Part 20 (2/2)

”But Lyll told me they were sent overseas for helping you get out of prison.”

Somehow Daul's cold gaze grew even icier. ”That's the official story, is it? Don't believe every thing they tell you, little mouse. I remember that gaol - twelve stinking years of it. Ask Antoch how long he spent there.”

Laughter drifted closer, and Lord Antoch rose from his spot near the fireplace. ”Remy, Remy - leave the poor girl alone. You'll put her off her dinner.” He crossed the room in a few easy strides and threw a huge arm around Daul, who stiffened. ”Celyn, my girl, this snake of a brother of mine isn't bothering you, is he?”

For a moment I felt dizzy. Daul couldn't be right.

Could he?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

All evening long I stole glances at Lord Antoch. Was he really a man who would send his own people to their deaths in return for a post at a foreign court and a run-down castle in the mountains? Daul was convinced, but I just didn't know - Antoch doted on Meri, and there was nothing but love in his gaze for his wife. But that was no good mea sure of what a person might do when pressed hard, or when tempted. And I knew better than anyone not to judge somebody by his relatives.

Lord Antoch's best friend was trying to destroy him. The prince insisted he was n.o.body. The wine merchant was an arms dealer. Lady Lyll was hiding every thing, and Meri was a wizard. There had to be somebody in this castle who was exactly what he seemed, with no treacherous secrets or betrayals to conceal. There had to be.

And what about me, sneaking around spying, working for Daul? Why could I accept such treachery from Daul - or myself - but it seemed unforgivable in a person like Lord Antoch?

I was still stewing over it all the next morning when I ducked down to check on the prince.

”Celyn just-a-maid! You're just in time for my debut.” Wierolf was sitting on the edge of his bed - in a s.h.i.+rt finally, thank the G.o.ds - and he held up his hand. ”Wait - stand there.” Very carefully, he pushed himself to standing, wavering only slightly. He took a few tentative steps, then lurched for me, grabbing my wrists.

”Very impressive,” I said, leading him back to the bed. His color was better, and dressed now, he didn't look quite so frail. ”You'll be storming the castle in no time.”

This drew one of Wierolf's rare frowns. ”I don't think so,” he said quietly.

”What did Lady Lyllace say when you talked to her?” I asked.

”Surprisingly little,” he said. ”And I scared the other one when I tried to speak to her in Corles.” With a sigh, Wierolf leaned back against his cus.h.i.+ons. ”What is going on here, Celyn? This place, with its mysterious silent keepers and spare accommodations and its strange little maids who show up in the middle of the night?”

I sank down as well. ”I don't know.” I thought for a moment. Maybe the missing piece to the puzzle upstairs could help untangle this whole mystery. ”Do you know anything about the Battle of Kalorjn?”

”I've studied it, of course. The Sarist and Royalist forces were evenly matched, and the Sarists had the advantage of terrain. By rights they should have carried the day.”

”I was thinking more about the end of the battle.”

Wierolf turned, propping himself on his elbow. ”The unknown traitor? Well, that's the great mystery, isn't it? There are rumors, theories - but only the dead know for certain.”

”What theories?”

He shrugged. ”Names, suspects - Daul, for one.”

”Daul - Remy Daul?” I blinked.

”No, Senim. The commander. There's no evidence, of course.”

”Did anyone ever say it might have been Antoch Nemair?”

He eased back and regarded me carefully, letting out a long, low whistle. ”Are you serious?”

I stared at my hands and gave a shrug.

”All right,” Wierolf said. ”Let's think about this. The Sarists were defeated because they were given false intelligence about the size and movements of the Royalist troops. Nemair had command over the Sarists' right flank, which was supposed to protect against a charge coming at them on their seaward side. That charge never came, Nemair's men never mobilized, so Daul's forces faced the full brunt of the Royalist attack. By the time Nemair's men got word, it was too late. More than twenty-five hundred rebels were killed in the battle alone. Vorstig - the Royalist general - had the surviving common foot soldiers rounded up and executed. Their commanders were arrested.”

I'd heard the rest of that story. ”So . . . it was Nemair's fault? If he'd attacked when he should have -”

Wierolf turned up his hands. ”Who can say? Most people give the blame to the reports he and Commander Daul relied on to plan their strategy. Unfortunately no one has ever been able to determine the source of that information.”

”But how can they be sure it wasn't just a mistake?”

”No. The Royalist attack was too specific - they knew exactly where to strike, and how hard, knowing that a third of their opponents' forces would be distracted elsewhere. That could only have come from spies within Daul's camp.”

I sighed. Maybe it was true.

The prince was watching me. ”Look, I've never met the man, and apparently I'm not quite the judge of character I thought I was” - he gestured vaguely toward his wounds - ”but every thing I've heard of Antoch Nemair would suggest he's not your man.”

I was silent, turning that over and over in my mind.

”Eighteen years is a long time. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore.”

”It does.” I was surprised at the vehemence in my voice.

Wierolf touched my arm with a cold hand. ”Why?”

”Because it does.” But Wierolf was right. Why did I even care? The Battle of Kalorjn had nothing to do with me. I sighed and tried to explain it, even to myself. ”They took me in when - when I left the Celystra. They gave me a home and a post and a -” I faltered. ”I just need to know.”

”Would it change anything? He'd still be the man that took you in.”

”The truth always changes things.”

”He might not be the same man he was, eigh teen years ago.”

I made a skeptical sound. ”People don't change that much.”

Wierolf lay back against the pillows. ”What happened to becoming anyone you want if n.o.body knows the truth?”

”That isn't what I meant.”

”Oh,” he said. ”Because that's what it sounded like to me.”

Meri was getting anxious and fussy. For the last several days, she'd been told to stay away from the Sarists' camp. The weather had been clear, and with no new snow to obscure her tracks leading to and from their little settlement, apparently Reynart felt it too risky for everyone for them to continue to meet, until he sent word that it was safe.

”Why can't you take the tunnels?”

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