said.
Cammon shook his head. “He’s from Gillengaria. I don’t know how he ended up in the ambassador’s train.”
Khoshku looked bewildered. “But—everyone who attends me is from my own country. Why would I need more servants when I have plenty of my own? How did he come to join my company?”
“Let’s ask him,” Wen said in a pleased voice. She twisted her hand through her captive’s hair and yanked back hard. He cried out in pain but didn’t speak.
Suddenly the Karyndein servant broke into low sobs and began confessing in a choked, rapid voice, saying something only the ambassador could understand. Khoshku looked, if possible, even more appalled. “He says that shortly after we sailed into Forten City, a few of my men got into a drunken brawl. There was a dreadful fight, and my servants were overmatched until a few strangers came to their aid. One of my men disappeared—they believed he had run away—but they were too embarrassed to tell me. And this other man, this impostor, he agreed to come with us so I would not realize anyone was missing.” Khoshku looked with horror at the king. “He has been with us all this time. More than a week.”
As clearly as if Tayse had spoken, Cammon could feel the big Rider’s contempt. You are so ill-acquainted with the men who serve you that you can spend a week with a stranger and not realize it? Such a fate would never befall Baryn, who prided himself on a close relationship with each of his Riders.
Though he might not, perhaps, recognize each of his cooks and scullery maids and lower footmen, Cammon thought. How many great lords would? Cammon could catch the same ideas cycling through the minds of all the nobles in the room. I would know my own men…most of them…well, one or two might slip by me. The thought made all of them uncomfortable, Cammon could tell.
“This is a very distressing tale,” Baryn said, but his voice was a degree or two warmer. “We must have time to review your story, interrogate this—this—person, and decide if we believe you are telling the truth.”
“What’s significant is that this brawl occurred in Forten City,” Senneth said. “We have long suspected that Rayson Fortunalt is in league with Halchon Gisseltess in plans to unsettle the throne.”
Now Khoshku was starting to look angry. Cammon could scarcely imagine how the ambassador could have had a worse day, and he did not look like the sort of man who could always keep his ire in check. “No one told us not to sail to Forten City,” he said stiffly. “No one told us outlaws would be lying in wait for us, trying to turn our mission of peace into a bloody debacle.”
Tayse glanced from Senneth to Cammon to the king. “They’re targeting envoys,” he said in a quiet voice. “This is the second one.”
Cammon could feel the bewilderment that swept over everyone else in the room, but the three of them nodded back. Of course. The assassin who had crept into Ghosenhall a couple of weeks ago had been dressed in Arberharst colors, but he had been a Gillengaria man with murder to his credit.
“And we have to believe they’ll keep trying,” Senneth said.
Finally, Tayse slipped his sword back in its scabbard. “And they won’t always come in disguise.”
“I demand to know what is happening in Gillengaria and why I have been chosen to appear as a villain,” said Khoshku, truly beginning to work up some righteous indignation. “It seems there is trouble in the realm and I have stumbled into the middle of it! Explain this to me! All of it!”
Baryn merely turned his gentle smile on Khoshku and waved everyone else to their seats. “In good time, my dear ambassador. Let us now finish our meal, so rudely interrupted. I believe there is some excellent wine waiting to be served, and it will make all of us feel very much better.”
N ATURALLY , the rest of the luncheon was an awkward, rushed affair, strange and uncomfortable even after the Riders had carried off
Cammon shook his head. “He’s from Gillengaria. I don’t know how he ended up in the ambassador’s train.”
Khoshku looked bewildered. “But—everyone who attends me is from my own country. Why would I need more servants when I have plenty of my own? How did he come to join my company?”
“Let’s ask him,” Wen said in a pleased voice. She twisted her hand through her captive’s hair and yanked back hard. He cried out in pain but didn’t speak.
Suddenly the Karyndein servant broke into low sobs and began confessing in a choked, rapid voice, saying something only the ambassador could understand. Khoshku looked, if possible, even more appalled. “He says that shortly after we sailed into Forten City, a few of my men got into a drunken brawl. There was a dreadful fight, and my servants were overmatched until a few strangers came to their aid. One of my men disappeared—they believed he had run away—but they were too embarrassed to tell me. And this other man, this impostor, he agreed to come with us so I would not realize anyone was missing.” Khoshku looked with horror at the king. “He has been with us all this time. More than a week.”
As clearly as if Tayse had spoken, Cammon could feel the big Rider’s contempt. You are so ill-acquainted with the men who serve you that you can spend a week with a stranger and not realize it? Such a fate would never befall Baryn, who prided himself on a close relationship with each of his Riders.
Though he might not, perhaps, recognize each of his cooks and scullery maids and lower footmen, Cammon thought. How many great lords would? Cammon could catch the same ideas cycling through the minds of all the nobles in the room. I would know my own men…most of them…well, one or two might slip by me. The thought made all of them uncomfortable, Cammon could tell.
“This is a very distressing tale,” Baryn said, but his voice was a degree or two warmer. “We must have time to review your story, interrogate this—this—person, and decide if we believe you are telling the truth.”
“What’s significant is that this brawl occurred in Forten City,” Senneth said. “We have long suspected that Rayson Fortunalt is in league with Halchon Gisseltess in plans to unsettle the throne.”
Now Khoshku was starting to look angry. Cammon could scarcely imagine how the ambassador could have had a worse day, and he did not look like the sort of man who could always keep his ire in check. “No one told us not to sail to Forten City,” he said stiffly. “No one told us outlaws would be lying in wait for us, trying to turn our mission of peace into a bloody debacle.”
Tayse glanced from Senneth to Cammon to the king. “They’re targeting envoys,” he said in a quiet voice. “This is the second one.”
Cammon could feel the bewilderment that swept over everyone else in the room, but the three of them nodded back. Of course. The assassin who had crept into Ghosenhall a couple of weeks ago had been dressed in Arberharst colors, but he had been a Gillengaria man with murder to his credit.
“And we have to believe they’ll keep trying,” Senneth said.
Finally, Tayse slipped his sword back in its scabbard. “And they won’t always come in disguise.”
“I demand to know what is happening in Gillengaria and why I have been chosen to appear as a villain,” said Khoshku, truly beginning to work up some righteous indignation. “It seems there is trouble in the realm and I have stumbled into the middle of it! Explain this to me! All of it!”
Baryn merely turned his gentle smile on Khoshku and waved everyone else to their seats. “In good time, my dear ambassador. Let us now finish our meal, so rudely interrupted. I believe there is some excellent wine waiting to be served, and it will make all of us feel very much better.”
N ATURALLY , the rest of the luncheon was an awkward, rushed affair, strange and uncomfortable even after the Riders had carried off
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