Bonds of Vengeance by David B. Coe Page A

aid. Even Trescarri might fight on our behalf.” She shook her head. “No, this wasn’t Brugaosa.”
    “Then who?”
    At that, she did open her eyes. “You have to ask?”
    He twisted his mouth sourly and returned to the chair by his writing table. “We have no evidence that the conspiracy has been active here in Curlinte.”
    “No, we don’t. But Cyro’s murder has never been explained to my satisfaction, and we’ve heard enough from Aneira and Eibithar to convince me that the Qirsi are sowing discontent across the Forelands.”
    “Cyro was killed by the Brugaosans,” he said, looking away. “We know that.” She saw the pained expression on his face and felt an aching in her chest. Three years since her brother’s death and still his loss was a raw wound on their hearts.
    “Why?” she said, her voice thick. “Because of the garrote? Because Edamo had threatened him after their encounter in the Dark Wood?”
    “Isn’t that enough?”
    She sat up again, her head feeling a bit clearer. “He’s denied it, Father. If he was going to make such a show of killing him—using thegarrote rather than poison, or a dagger—why would he bother denying it?”
    “He’s Brugaosan! He needs a reason to He?”
    “You know what I mean.”
    Her father said nothing and Diani knew that no good would come of arguing the point further.
    “Those men who attacked me today were not Brugaosans,” she said again. “I’m certain of it. It was the conspiracy.”
    To her relief, Sertio didn’t ask her for proof. “Which one do you think is the traitor?”
    “That I don’t know. But I think we should assume the worst.”
    Sertio winced. “Kreazur?”
    Kreazur jal Sylbe had served as Curlinte’s first minister for six years, and as second minister for three years before that. In truth, though Diani had never cared for the man, she didn’t want to believe it either. He had been her mother’s favorite among all the Qirsi in the castle, and while others, Diani’s father among them, had urged her to look outside the castle for a new minister when Kreazur’s predecessor died, she had insisted on promoting the underminister. Just considering that he might have betrayed Dalvia’s trust in this way made Diani tremble with rage.
    “Perhaps it’s not him,” she said weakly. “In which case we’ll try the underministers.”
    “But we start with Kreazur,” her father said. It was hard to tell if he was acquiescing to her wishes or acknowledging his own doubts.
    “I think so.”
    “What do you want me to do?”
    “Summon him. When he gets here, tell him that you expected me back hours ago and that you’re concerned for my safety.”
    “Where will you be?”
    She scanned the chamber briefly. She had been in this room thousands of times, but it had been years since she and the other court children played find-the-wraith. There was a small space beside her father’s wardrobe in the far corner of the room. During the warmer turns, when the windows were open, it would have been a poor place to hide. But today, in the cold of the snows, with the shutters locked, the space was only dimly lit.
    “There,” she said pointing. “By the wardrobe.”
    Her father nodded. “All right. What do you expect him to say?”
    “I’m not certain,” she said, shrugging. “I suppose I’ll know when I hear it.”
    “Wouldn’t it be easier to wait until we find the archers?”
    “We may not find them.”
    Sertio nodded, still looking uncertain.
    She stood and walked stiffly back to the wardrobe. Her entire left side ached still and her thigh was throbbing. It would be days before she could ride again.
    Sertio crossed to the door and spoke quietly to the soldiers in the corridor. Then he returned to his table and sat, holding his head in his hands. Diani hadn’t given much thought to him since waking from her ordeal. Seeing her bloodied, with arrows jutting from her body in all directions, must have struck at his heart. They had just