Beneath an Opal Moon by Eric Van Lustbader Read Free Book Online Page A

the corners of his eyes.
    â€œTell me.” Softly.
    â€œNo. No!” he said miserably. “I promised.” He opened his eyes, pleading with Moichi.
    â€œPromised what?” He was relentless now. “You must tell me.”
    â€œI promised him I would not tell anyone!”
    â€œLook!” Moichi barked, pushing the boy down on his knees before the corpse. “He is dead now. Dead. Do you understand?”
    The boy began to cry. Great gasping sobs shook him and Moichi pulled him close, stroking his head. “All right,” he said softly. “All right. It does not matter now, your promise. Do you understand? What he was afraid of has already occurred. You cannot hurt him by telling me what happened. He is beyond that now.” He looked into the boy’s tear-streaked face. “Kuo, here. Sit here beside us.”
    After a time Kuo told them what he knew of the man who had given him the silver coin and promised him another.
    â€œKintai.”
    â€œHow did they get it?”
    â€œThe manufacture of the saddle. It’s as distinctive as a chop, you know. But they’re quite clever here. Given time, they could probably come up with the exact town within the province.”
    â€œAnd the horse? Anything there?”
    â€œDo you mean species?”
    Moichi nodded.
    Aerent shrugged. “That’s another matter entirely. There is nothing remarkable about it. But, in any event, he could have bought it anywhere, really, even if it were a luma.”
    They were sitting in the same room on the second floor of the Seifu-ke where they had talked earlier in the morning.
    Kuo had talked for a long time before he had led them to the stable where he had quartered their mounts, showing them to the stall where the dead man’s stallion was housed. He had brought it out at the appointed hour the night before, precisely as the dead man had ordered, only to find the horror in the alley where he had expected another silver coin and a few kind words.
    â€œI know little of Kintai,” Moichi said.
    â€œI am not surprised.” Aerent faced the window, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. The storm had all but spent itself and, here and there, over the rooftops of the city, he could see liquid wedges of cerulean as errant clouds followed in the wake of the rain. The Regent turned from the view of Sha’angh’sei. “It is a landlocked region far to the northwest. Not much is known of it, since its frontiers are beyond even the most northerly of the forest people with whom we have trading agreements.
    â€œWhat would an outlander from such a far-off place be doing in Sha’angh’sei with the son of the tai-pan of the Ching Pang?
    â€œAnd who was it killed them both?” Aerent tapped a long forefinger against his lips ruminatively. “I think what we must focus on is the difference of the modes of death.”
    â€œI agree.” Moichi nodded. “Omojiru is killed almost instantly while the outlander suffers a most hideous and pain-filled demise.”
    â€œInformation.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWe can only surmise that the murderer sought information.”
    â€œIt must be of enormous importance to resort to that kind of torture.”
    â€œMy thoughts precisely.” Aerent was tapping his lips again.
    â€œPerhaps Du-Sing should be told about this,” Moichi observed. “It does not look now as if the Reds were involved at all.”
    â€œUhm. Dangerous to make that assumption at this stage, I am afraid, tempting though it may be to do so. We do not know how many men were involved. Perhaps—”
    â€œPerhaps what?” Moichi prompted.
    Aerent poured them wine, handed Moichi a crystal goblet imprinted with the Regent’s seal in silver. His brow was furrowed in worry. “There may be a military aspect to this; that would quite logically involve both the Reds and the Greens. There are still many peoples in the