Hunting Page 19

  Thornaster surveyed her, mouth ominously flat. "Sera Arpesial has been visiting. Most insistent that I don't mention her presence to anyone else, though. I imagine she'll return later this afternoon. How old are you, Ash?"

  "Twenty-one in about a month." She met his eyes, unwavering. "Too old to be a seruilis."

  She couldn't read his immediate reaction, but then he sat back, becoming brisk. "Well, technically, too old in a month, if there's some reason to strictly enforce such rules. It's certainly my preference to resolve this mystery before then."

  It was an offer to continue their partnership, and Ash hid a sigh of relief, and then let herself focus on the problem at hand.

  "What's the story with the Rhoi's apartments?"

  "Nests of thar-spiders. Tucked down beneath the coverings of the Rhoi and Veirhoi's beds. Our opponent wasn't counting on Enderhay succeeding with the kill – only to take the blame. Farpatten has a team going over Arun's apartments in case there's anything further, but given how tightly those rooms have been guarded these past few weeks, the question of spiders is exercising his security detail considerably."

  More suspicion for Carlyon, living temporarily under the Rhoi's supervision. He had remained carefully in the background during last night's drama, and Ash couldn't hope to guess if that suspicion was misplaced.

  "Did his lips turn blue?"

  "Yes. Your diagnosis shows no flaws as yet."

  "What chance that they might just stop? They can't blame further attacks on Enderhay."

  "Limited, I should think, given Karaelsur's possible involvement."

  Ash realised that she'd started to tilt, and straightened, a recovery that Thornaster didn't comment on. But a corner of his mouth turned up.

  "It's going to be another couple of days before I can really get about," she said, giving him an admonitory frown. "I just wanted to work out what's happening next. Does this clear Hawkmarten?"

  "Not unequivocally, but it has reassured Arun that Hawk doesn't want him dead, which I never did find easy to believe. It doesn't explain the rings. Verel will continue to take both of us with a few precautionary grains of salt, I suspect, but is now favouring the idea that we were to be the next targets. As for what now, Arun has arranged for a detailed map of ownership of smallholdings in the city to be prepared. We'll see what information your sources bring, put it together, and hope for inspiration."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  "I've never known anyone so determined to convince me of her death."

  "Kiri." Ash shifted slowly upright, and then held her arms out to her friend. "I am being more than ordinarily dramatic lately, I must admit."

  "You are ridiculous," Kiri said, squeezing her gingerly. "And impossible. And if you ever do that to me again, I swear I'll strangle you myself."

  "I can only promise to try."

  Even the most cautious embrace was not yet possible without winces, but Kiri's arrival at least solved the problem of how to change her bandages. While Kiri unwrapped and salved and wrapped again, Ash caught her up with the long tale of murder and poison and their diminishing number of leads, and Kiri listened with the same grave air of appraisal she had given to the not-always-truthful stories with which a younger girl had entertained her.

  "Decsel Donderry," Kiri said, when Ash was done. "Setsel Gibrace, Setsel Vicardie and Visel Itratan. Those four are the most likely to be put forward now that Decsel Enderhay is dead."

  "Itratan? I haven't heard his name suggested before."

  "He's a favour collector." There was a flat note to Kiri's voice. "Of the others, Setsel Gibrace is by far the most capable. Vicardie is considered reasonable, and is well liked. Donderry has greater resources, but is so full of enthusiasm that many believe he would gallop Montmoth into disaster. Still, he has a core of supporters and, if the Landsmeet vote is split among too many, he might unexpectedly find himself in the lead."

  Ash watched Kiri's face as she fastened the last bandage. How little had changed. This was still the Kiri she had once seen only when they were alone, her reserve receding as she switched between amusement and an almost severe intelligence, analytical and detached.

  "You've kept to your goal?"

  Heavy lashes swept up. "Why would I give it up?"

  "'My father is Visel'," Ash quoted. "'I am his only child. So I will study the Balance, and the duties of the Landsmeet, and stand before Astenar and Luin. No matter what my parents plan for me.'"

  "That at least has improved. They still want me to marry well, but Father is so pleased to be sure that Ariancy will be properly managed when he's gone he verified my first heir's right as soon as I was sixteen. Of course, it helped that cousin Ryovar grew up to be a tremendous idiot."

  "Always was," Ash muttered, having clashed more than once with Ryovar. She flexed her newly bound arm carefully. "Thanks for this. I didn't want to bother Investigator Verel again."

  "Given how peculiarly unconcerned Visel Thornaster appears to be, I'm almost surprised he hasn't taken care of this himself."

  "He's just acting." Ash glanced at the door. "He wouldn't have made me his seruilis if he'd known I was a girl. Aremal might have 'valarns', but just by having a particular word for 'female warrior' they underline there's a difference. Maybe not a negative one, but enough that the Rhoi's not wrong to worry about whether it's appropriate." She clicked her tongue in exasperation. "He relaxed when I told him how old I was. That let him decide he could in conscience keep up the pretence."

  "Should I ask if you care for him?"

  Ash shrugged, winced as the stitches pulled, and wished she could simply be entertained by the prospect of Thornaster.

  "Kiri, he was made for me. And once this is over I will do something about that, because never asking is the type of thing I'd regret." Even though she'd yet to discover any signs of concealed attraction. "But he is..."

  "Accustomed to being pursued," Kiri said, speaking as one recognising her own situation. "If he finds it amusing when he's insulted and slighted here, it most likely is because in Aremal he is competed over."

  "Egotistical wretch. He also seems to think everyone should really love sword fighting. Let's hope that isn't an absolute requirement." Ash blew her breath out, and then met Kiri's eyes. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with the Rhoi, or would you rather not talk about it?"

  In the years that a younger Ash had known Kiri she had never seen her blush. But as quickly as the deep colour rose beneath clear skin, it receded, and her friend summoned a faint smile instead.

  "Nothing to my credit."

  "Did your parents–?" The Arpesials had always had very high expectations.

  "No, I am the one at fault." Kiri minutely rearranged her long skirt, and sat tall and proud, an image of perfection. Ash had just decided that was all she meant to say when her friend went on.

  "My parents had already had in you an example of how terribly wrong an advantageous marriage could be. They chose not to push me. It was the entire Landsmeet – people who looked at me and said, 'Yes, that is worthy of Veirhoi Arun' – who brought a weight of expectation to our every interaction. And I was, oh, ready to mark any fault. He was too small-minded, impossibly earnest, never questioning what he was saying when he told me he intended to live up to the role he'd been born to. That he hoped for my support."

  "To be a truly great Rhoi?"

  "Like his father, who I could barely look at because Rhoi Malaster had never stopped Eward Carlyon. Disapproved of him, lectured him perhaps, but done nothing of substance. Irrhoi Lasantra did not help – to her it was a foregone conclusion that I would accept her son's interest and be grateful."

  "I'm still not seeing where you're at fault in this."

  "When the Irrhoi died, Arun told me that he had always looked to his mother for advice. And, for a time, I decided to see whether that would be enough." Kiri's gaze was fixed on a wall, unseeing. "It was slow work. His views were conventional, and if I spoke directly he would correct me. He'd had so littl
e practical experience, yet thought to teach me. And would break into what I was saying to recite poetry. Bad poetry."

  Ash burst into laughter and then stopped as her stitches warned her this was too soon. "Oh, Kiri."

  "It was Rhoi Malaster who changed that. The Rhoi was – now that you've told me of Karaelsur, I suspect that even then the Rhoi was uneasy, had sensed something was wrong with Montmoth's Balance. I learned that he held a deep regret over his handling of Decsel Carlyon – that he'd hesitated to overstep the process of law. He brought many new books in from Aremal and Firuvar, trying to widen his outlook. Sometimes they were books I had studied, and he would talk to me as Arun would not. With that example, Arun began to listen."

  "Less poetry?"

  "Thankfully. And – it was a heady wine, that attention. I began to see Arun anew. The genuine desire to do his best, the willingness to learn, and the struggle against the way he had been shaped. The walls put about him were not so obvious as mine, but they were there. When Rhoi Malaster began to speak of sending him to Aremal's Collegium, I encouraged the idea. I saw it as a final step toward Arun and I sharing our lives."

  "Did you have a formal understanding?"

  "Oh, yes. He had the leave of his father, and my consent. It wasn't until the day before he left that I learned that I had led myself astray."

  "Then?" Ash was startled. She'd assumed matters had gone awry when Veirhoi Arun had fallen at the feet of the Aremish Rhoi's daughter.

  "You understand, all that time I had been this." Kiri gestured down at herself, the motion the epitome of restraint and grace. "A very decorous courtship, with barely a held hand between us. But I had grown to appreciate him, and he was leaving for years, so I kissed him: a farewell so he would know I truly loved him. If he had walked out of the room, I could not more clearly have felt his withdrawal. I received a letter a few days after his departure, breaking our understanding. He had mistaken his feelings."

  Kiri's lips parted, then curved. "It was a game to me once, my Reserve. When I first noticed that I could change how people behaved toward me simply by controlling my reactions, it felt like magic. But practice became second nature, and I knew part of Arun's attraction for me was because I matched the Montmothian ideal. I'm not certain it had ever occurred to him that I might want him physically, or could collapse into laughter, or climb through an attic window. That I wanted someone who I could be Kiri with. And I did not see until it was too late that Arun was in love with this...this idea of a woman. I have not spoken to him since."

  "Shall we run away together then, Kiri?"

  This time Kiri's smile was real, a wry curl. "No. I will not give up Ariancy for something so trivial as a broken heart. And I have been teaching myself to be Kiri again, at least there. Among the Landsmeet it is difficult not to wear my Reserve, because it spares me so much, but there's no need to spend my time in the city."

  "Then would you mind very much if I hit him a little? I think I've done enough Rhoi-rescuing to get away with it."

  "If it relieves your feelings."

  "It would at least be entertaining watching him trying to explain away a black eye." Ash laughed, but then more soberly considered her friend. "I know enough not to try to fix this for you, and it sounds like he's behaved idiotically. But I think you may have succeeded better than you realise, having Rhoi Malaster send him to Aremal. You wouldn't know this, but he plans a law to require Kinsel girls to attend the Mern."

  Kiri's chin went down. "Your Thornaster's influence?"

  "He says not."

  "How...unexpected."

  "Of course, none of that will matter if the scut behind these murders succeeds. We've made it impossible to blame the Rhoi's death on Enderhay, but that doesn't mean they'll stop trying."

  And Ash was running short of ideas.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "What do you expect it to tell you?"

  Thornaster weighted the corners of his newly delivered map. "If nothing else, it will help me keep track of a foot tour of every unbound piece of land in this city. For the sake of my sanity, I hope you bring back something to narrow this down before it comes to that."

  "For the sake of your feet at least," Ash said, and headed for the door.

  "Arun wants to talk to you," he called after her. "You're excused the second session of Mern. Think up a suitable reward."

  Ash waved in acknowledgement and headed for the stable. Four days after Enderhay's death, she was finally feeling up to more than fetching dinner, though her need for rest had at least postponed some of the consequences of the revelation of breasts. Heran was the current sticking point. While Thornaster wobbled between giving her orders and treating her as a free agent, and the Rhoi's gratitude meant that those who followed his command were not going to get in the way of her hunt, a Veirhoi who had discovered his new friend was not at all what he'd thought him was a chancy keeper of important secrets.

  Debating her approach, Ash took her time cosseting Cloud Cat and then made no bones about finding a hay bale to help herself into the saddle. Her stitches were healing well enough, but she'd already torn a couple just trying to find a way to sleep comfortably, and the whole of her back and arm tended to throb relentlessly when she moved about too much.

  She'd arranged for the Huntsmen to gather as much gossip and talk about the disappeared as they could, hoping to come across information people were unwilling to pass to the Guard or the Watch. Melar had compiled it all into an impressive collection of notes for Larkin to pass on.

  "And much good it'll do you," Larkin told her, once she'd been properly exclaimed over and they'd escaped into the bakery's storeroom for serious discussion. "Different parts of the city. Different times of day. No way to tell if the handful who are older and younger are coincidence, or if it's all connected."

  "So many," Ash murmured, turning pages. "I hadn't realised."

  "Well, it is spring. Season of starting over. Or at least of having had enough of the damn cold. So, what comes next?"

  "How well are they holding?"

  Larkin grimaced. "The problem with you off playing hero is everyone else wants to as well. Collecting gossip's not exactly our strength."

  "Start patrolling again. Groups of four. Concentrate on the Commons. If you spot anyone at all suspect, follow if you're four together and it's possible to stay quiet and in each other's sight. If not, then get a good look at whoever it is, so we can at least start collecting descriptions."

  "And if we spot someone mid-kidnapping?"

  "Make a lot of noise. Play drunkards. The one thing Thornaster's been clear on is that this agent of Karaelsur is incredibly dangerous. I don't want anyone thinking our usual tricks are an option."

  "Options would be–" Larkin paused as Linnet poked her head through the door. "Go away Lincy."

  "Go away yourself," Linnet said, poking out her tongue. "I'm looking for Sonia. We're playing hide and seek."

  Larkin started to his feet, glancing quickly around at the neatly stacked sacks and boxes of stores. "I told you to stop that, Lincy."

  "She likes it."

  "And I'd like it if for once you did what you were told."

  Larkin began a systematic search of the storeroom, which Ash decided to forego, since it involved a lot of bending.

  "Sonia?" Larkin's voice was as soft as he could manage. "Could you come out of there please?"

  Stifled movement behind a stacked shelf, but nothing more.

  Ash realised that the girl might not remember her from her visits with Arianne, and didn't want to come out while she was there. "I'd better get going," she said, and philosophically took herself off.

  But as Ash headed out, Bitty, minding the shopfront, held a finger to her lips and nodded out the door. Ash paused, and discovered her horse-mad street girl in the process of offering a fragment of bun for equine consideration.

  "Her name's Cloud Cat," Ash said, after the mare had accepted the morsel.

  The girl immediately retreated, so
that all Ash could see of her was a pair of brown legs beneath the curve of Cloud Cat's belly.

  "Do you have a name?"

  Cloud Cat tossed her head, and the girl moved, a proud, angry profile emerging around the mare's neck. Dark, searching eyes, full of distrust, met Ash's in challenge.

  Holding out a hand, palm up, Ash took a step forward. "Talk to me."

  Something hit her, a wind that buffeted Ash against the bakery doorway. Twisting as best she could to avoid disaster for her stitches, she staggered and almost fell.

  "What happened?"

  Bitty, abruptly at Ash's side, hefted the stout cudgel the Rogadneys kept behind the serving counter.

  "Not sure." Ash looked for the street girl, but she was already out of sight. "Have you had any trouble with her?"

  "If you can call being treated like we're infectious trouble. She's no plans to trust us any time soon. Don't say as I blame her – she didn't get those bruises tripping over her own feet."

  "But no mysterious winds?"

  "Nope." Bitty, far from easily impressed, returned to the counter. "Doesn't stick around any longer than she has to."

  "Let me know if that changes."

  Taking it slow because her wounds had started to complain, Ash snagged a bun of her own and headed back, trying to make sense of this new bit of information. Could the girl be a mage? Was mage-craft something which could be done on the spur of the moment? Was that wind something inborn, like Thornaster's powers? Or something more sinister?

  ooOoo

  Ash's plans to tackle Heran were foiled by his absence from the Mern, but she enjoyed herself otherwise by describing her numerous stitches in great detail to an interested crowd, and then by solemnly thanking Marriston for trying to quell the bleeding. He could not quite stop himself from preening.

  Being slit open would not have been Ash's chosen method for winning over the senior seruilisi, but they were at least no longer intent on ostracising her. Ash only wished she could be sure one among them wouldn't turn around and try to kill her, if the opportunity presented.