Traitors' Gate (Crossroads) by Kate Elliott Read Free Book Online Page B

But that does not mean my brother and I can pretend he does not live and breathe. He remains the son of an emperor. You may see that this presents a problem for us. Yet we are peaceable men, seeking order, not war. Our father taught us that it is better to be prosperous than to quarrel. Thus, when my brother sired a son, I accepted the place foreordained for me, so that we could work together rather than sunder what would otherwise be strong.”
    “You’ve been cut,” said Eliar, going pale about the mouth. “I’ve read such stories, but I didn’t think—”
    Cut?
What on earth did that mean?
    The prince whitened about the mouth but spoke mildly enough that Kesh wondered if he were a man trained never to show overt anger. “We do not use such a crude term.”
    “I beg your pardon, Your Excellency,” said Eliar. “I know no other. There is no word in the Hundred that describes . . .” He blushed.
    “In the trade talk they might say gelded, but we have a more honorable term in our own language, which is more sophisticated than the crude jabber used in the marketplace.”
    Gelded! Kesh had to actually stop his own hand from reaching down to pat his own privates, to reassure himself they were intact. “Captain Anji isn’t the kind of man to accept a knife cut so as to live.”
    “We have something else in mind. And you, Keshad of no patronymic and Eliar son of Isar of the Ri Amarah, are the ones who will deliver our offer to our cousin. You will accept the assignment?”
    Kesh looked at Eliar. Eliar lifted a shoulder in a half shrug.
    “What choice do we have?” Kesh said.
    The prince lifted both hands. “You can be brought before the priests and accused and convicted of being spies. It is a choice. An honorable one in its own way, since an honorable man speaks truth at all times.”
    “What punishment would we then face?” Kesh asked.
    “A merciful one. A swift execution, rather than burning such as heretics and nonbelievers suffer. You, Keshad, in any case. I am not sure how the Ri Amarah would fare as those of his people who lived in these lands were banished from the empire one hundred and eighteen years ago because of their heretical beliefs. He might merit burning.”
    “Yours is a cruel law,” said Eliar.
    “Hsst!” Keshad kicked him.
    “Men are cruel,” observed the prince without heat. “The law binds them in order to mitigate their cruelty. Such is the wisdom of Beltak.” He folded his hands on his lap. He was as sleek and well groomed as any treasured gelding, a strong work horse, and a handsome person in his own way, better-looking than Anji if measured by symmetry alone. “So. I have found you, and made my proposal. Do you accept? You two, to carry our offer of peace across the Kandaran Pass to our cousin in the Hundred.”
    “This is no trick, no hidden poison or sorcery meant to kill him?”
    “No trick, no poison or sorcery meant to kill him. It is an honest offer, the best one he will get.”
    “What else can we do?” muttered Eliar.
    Kesh had spent too much time as a debt slave to trustmasters and merchants who, given a monopoly, did not exploit their advantage. But that didn’t mean a clever man couldn’t gain advantage for himself on the sidelines as the powerful wrestled. “Very well, Your Excellency, we’ll take your offer to the captain. What is it?”
    The prince nodded at the captain, who gestured. The guardsmen on the balcony backed up out of sight. The captain crossed to a door set on the far side of the chamber. He opened it and went through, leaving the prince—apparently unarmed—with Kesh and Eliar and their swords.
    “So do you have horns?” asked the prince in a pleasant voice. “I’ve always wondered.”
    Eliar flushed.
    The door opened and a woman entered the room. She was veiled, perceived mostly as cloth obscuring both face and form, yet she walked with confidence and carried a short lacquered stick with a heavy iron knob weighting one end. She