part.â
âYou loved him.â
âNo!â Seregil snapped, as memories of silken lips and callused hands against his skin taunted him. âNo, not love. I was passion-blind, though. Adzriel and my friends tried to warn me about him, but by then I was so infatuated Iâd have done anything for him. And in the end, I did.
âIronically, Ilar was the first to recognize and encourage my less noble talents. Even untrained, I had clever hands and a knack for skulking. Heâd devise little challenges to test meâinnocent at first, then less so. I lived for his praise.â He glanced guiltily at Alec. âRather like you and me, back when we first met. Itâs one of the things that made me keep you at armâs length for so long; the fear of corrupting you the way he did me.â
Alec shook his head. âIt was different with us. Go on, finish this and be done with it. What happened?â
Older than his years
, Seregil thought again. âVery well, then. One of my fatherâs most vociferous opponents was Nazien à Hari, khirnari of Haman clan. Ilar convinced me that certain papers in Nazienâs tent would aid my fatherâs cause, that I alone had the skill to sneak in and âborrowâ them.â He grimaced, disgusted at the green fool heâd been. âSo I went. Everyone else was off at some ritual that night, but one of Nazienâs kinsmen came back and caught me at it. It was dark; he must not have seen that it was a boy he was drawing his dagger against. There was just enough light for me to see the flash of his blade and the angry glint in his eyes. Terrified, I drew my own and struck out. I didnât mean to kill him, but I did.â He let out a bitter laugh. âI donât suppose even Ilar expected that when he sent the Haman back.â
âHe
wanted
you to be caught?â
âOh, yes; thatâs what all his attentiveness had been leading to. The âfaie seldom stoop to murder, Alec, or even to outright violence. It all comes down to
atui
, our code of honor. Atui and clan are everythingâthey define the individual, the family.â He shook his head sadly. âIlar and his fellow conspiratorsâthere were several, as it turned outâhad only to manipulate me into betraying the atui of my clan to accomplish their end, which was the disruption of the negotiations. Well, they certainly got that! What followed was all very dramatic and tawdry, given my reputation and my all-too-obviousrelationship with Ilar. I was found guilty of complicity in the plot, and of murder. Did I ever tell you what the penalty is for murder among my people?â
âNo.â
âItâs an ancient custom called
dwai sholo
.â
â âTwo bowlsâ?â
âYes. Punishment is the responsibility of the criminalâs clan. The wronged clan claims
tethâsag
against the family of the guilty person. If that clan breaks atui and does not carry out their duty, the wronged family can declare a feud and any killing that follows is not considered murder until honor is restored.
âAnyway, for dwai sholo, the guilty person is shut up in a tiny cell in the house of their own khirnari and every day they are offered two bowls of food. One bowl is poisoned, the other not. The condemned can choose one or refuse both, day after day. If you survive a year and a day, itâs considered a sign from Aura and youâre set free. Few manage it.â
âBut they didnât do that to you.â
âNo.â âthe choking heat, the darkness, the words that flayedâ
Seregil gripped the cup. âI was exiled instead.â
âWhat about the others?â
âThe small cell and two bowls, as far as I know. All except for Ilar. He escaped the night I was caught. And heâd accomplished his purpose. The Haman used the scandal to wreck the negotiations. Everything my family and others had worked decades
Learning to Kill: Stories