Seeds of Betrayal by David B. Coe Read Free Book Online Page A

heard that as well,” Tebeo said.
    “So isn’t it clear to you what happened?”
    “I think,” Brail said, “that Tebeo finds it a bit too clear.” He faced the duke. “Is that right?”
    Tebeo nodded. “Precisely.” He rubbed a hand across his brow, staring at his wine as if searching the goblet for the correct words.
    Of all of them, Tebeo looked least like a powerful noble. He was short and portly, with a kind, round face and large dark eyes. Pazice had once remarked that he resembled an alemaster more than he did a duke. But Brail, who had never been shy about complimenting himself on his own mtelhgence and foresight, thought Tebeo the wisest leader in Aneira.
    “In all likelihood you’re right, Bertin,” the duke said at last. “Vidor showed me the message Chago sent to him and I understand that you and Ansis received similar ones. I’m certain that Carden heard about them as well. Chago made no secret of how angry he was about the fees; I have no doubt that he would have challenged the king openly at the first opportunity. And knowing what I do of Carden, I’m also certain that he would have found Chago’s defiance galling. No king is above murder, ours least of all.” He paused, shaking his head slowly.
    “Then what?” Bertin asked.
    Tebeo took a breath. “We’ve all heard talk of the conspiracy. I’ve even heard some say that Qirsi were behind the unrest in Eibithar.”
    Bertin snorted. “The Eibitharians are animals. They don’t need any help butchering themselves.”
    “Perhaps not. But coming so quickly on the heels of their troubles, this just strikes me as… odd. They say it was Chago’s first minister who found him. That makes me wonder as well.”
    “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Noltierre said. “Carden’s reek is all over Chago’s body, and you’re trying to blame the white-hairs.” Bertin turned to Brail. “And what about you, Orvinti? Does Tebeo speak for you as well?”
    Brail sipped his wine, not quite certain how to answer. He shared Tebeo’s suspicions, but he wasn’t ready yet to give them voice. He would have been happy to pass the night in silence, allowing the duke of Dantrielle to carry the burden of this discussion. But more than that, he was troubled by the extent to which he found himself fearing the Qirsi. His own first minister had been with him for six years-not a long time, but enough to have nurtured a good deal of trust on his part. Fetnalla had offered him wise counsel since coming to Orvinti. As a younger man he had thought it impossible that he would ever consider any Qirsi a friend, but in recent years he had come to see the minister that way, as had the duchess. He didn’t think it in her nature to betray him. Until the last few days, however, he would have said the same thing of Peshkal, Chago’s first minister.
    “Well?” Bertin prodded.
    “I’m not certain what I think,” Brail finally answered. “It appears that this was the king’s doing, and we all know that Chago gave House Solkara reason enough to want him dead.”
    “But?”
    Brail turned toward the voice. Ansis was eyeing him closely, looking young still, but not frightened as Brail might have expected.
    “But I also agree with Tebeo that it all seems a bit too easy.”
    “What of the garroting?” Bertin asked. “What of the scrap of leather in Chago’s hand?”
    “That scrap of leather is part of what bothers me. Had Chago really pulled it off the murderer’s belt or baldric, wouldn’t the other man have noticed? Wouldn’t he have retrieved it?”
    Bertin threw up his hands. “It was a Solkaran garroting on behalf of the king! Why would he bother with a useless piece of leather? Everyone was going to know who killed the man anyway.”
    “What if it was the Qirsi?” Ansis asked in an even voice.
    “It wasn’t the Qirsi.”
    “What if it was?” the young duke said again, his voice rising as he glared at Bertin. After a moment he faced Brail again.