Seeds of Betrayal by David B. Coe Page A

death, guards in Jetaya found a vial that had held sleeping camas and were able to determine beyond question that it came from Rouvin. Doesn’t that seem a bit strange?”
    Brail had to admit that it did. “But that’s only one-”
    “Cyro of Yserne was garroted, just like Chago. And just like Chago, he had recently challenged the authority of the royal house.”
    “All that proves is that the queen of Sanbira is no more tolerant of dissenters than our own king.”
    Tebeo eyed him briefly before looking away and raising his goblet to his lips. Again they sat in silence for a time.
    “Earlier this evening you were agreeing with me,” the duke finally said, his voice so low that Brail almost couldn’t hear him for the wind and the snapping of the flames. “What happened?”
    Brail wasn’t certain how to answer. The truth was, he did agree with much of what Tebeo had said this night. He was neither blind nor a fool. Nobles in the Forelands were dying in strange, terrible ways, and in numbers that chilled his blood. But talk of this conspiracy disturbed him even more. Qirsi ministers lived in every castle and served every noble in the Forelands, from the lowliest baron of Wethyrn to the emperor of Braedon.
    Even if a mere fraction of the white-hairs were party to this plot, the danger to all the Eandi courts would be immeasurable.
    In a way, though, that thought troubled him far less than the notion that Fetnalla could be a traitor. Had she deceived him all these years? Had she been treating him with respect and kindness, while in secret thinking him an ass whom she could use for her own purposes? Worse, if she was allied with these renegade Qirsi, hadn’t she proved him to be just that? Better that Chago had been killed by the king, or thieves, or a madman who chanced upon him in the wood. Anything but this.
    “Nothing happened,” Brail said after a long silence. “I still agree that there was something a bit transparent about Chago’s murder. I’ll grant as well that recently there have been too many murders of a similar nature throughout the kingdoms. I’m just not ready yet to blame each one on some white-hair plot to rule the Forelands.”
    “I don’t want it to be true either, Brail. But if we ignore our suspicions out of fear, we help their cause.”
    Tebeo had always been a bit too clever for Brail’s taste.
    “What would they have to gain by killing Chago?” Brail asked, knowing how foolish he sounded.
    “Come now, my friend. You’re smarter than that. If the Qirsi did this, they didn’t do it to rid themselves of Chago. They did it to divide the kingdom, to deepen the rift between Chago’s allies and those of the king. That’s what alarms me so. Chago’s murder threatens to weaken Aneira; the garroting of Yserne has already emboldened those who would oppose the queen of Sanbira; Lady Brienne’s murder almost caused a civil war in Eibithar, and still might. Perhaps there’s nothing tying these murders to one another. From all I’ve heard, it certainly seems that the Curgh boy killed Kentigern’s daughter. I can’t help but notice, however, that each death further weakens the Eandi courts. It’s been nearly two hundred years since any kingdom in the Forelands suffered through a civil war. Yet right now, at least three kingdoms, including our own, appear to be moving toward some kind of conflict. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
    “So you think they want to rule the Forelands? You think they plan to weaken every court north of the Border Range and conquer us that way?”
    Tebeo shook his head, looking grave, and older than Brail had ever imagined he could. “I don’t know. It may be that simple.”
    “Simple?” Brail repeated, giving a short, breathless laugh. “What you’re talking about would require a conspiracy so vast…” He stopped, shaking his head as well. “I don’t believe it’s possible.”
    “Actually, it wouldn’t take nearly as many people as you think. All