Casket of Souls

who set them on us?” Alec said as soon as they closed the front door behind them.
    “I can think of two,” Seregil croaked, leading him to the kitchen. “Reltheus may have seen me spying at Elani’s today, although I don’t know how. He certainly knew where we’d be tonight. These assassin bastards probably followed us from there.” He paused. “And then there’s Malthus.”
    “But he’s our friend!” Despite all his training and all the things they’d been through since they’d met, Alec still had some of his native innocence intact. The sign of a good heart, Seregil supposed, and usually he admired Alec for it, but in situations like this it could get a person killed.
    “Queen-making might trump friendship, don’t you think?” In the kitchen he lit a candle from the banked coals on the hearth, filled a basin with water from the barrel by the door, then went to the cupboard where the simples were stored. “Interesting that General Sarien took an interest in me tonight. Even patted me on the shoulder. If Malthus’s cabal considers me a threat, then he could have been signaling one of the assassins, concealed in the crowd.”
    “They could just as well have attacked me when I was alone tonight,” Alec noted.
    “I don’t think you were the target,” said Seregil, sitting down beside Alec to clean and tend his wound. “Which would mean that Malthus believed me when I told him you weren’t involved.” He paused and shook his head. “Perhaps I tipped my hand too soon, speaking with him.”
    Alec winced as Seregil sponged the blood away. “Or he knows you set his house on fire,” he said, only half joking.
    “I doubt that. But we can’t afford to trust anyone now.”
    “Maybe not. What are we going to do?”
    Seregil pulled the garrote from inside his coat. “Send this and a heavy purse to one of my less savory connections.”
    “Are we still going to talk to Valerius about the sickness?” Alec asked. “I really think he should know about it. Besides,we don’t have any engagements so far tomorrow, and there’s not much we can do with Reltheus and Kyrin in daylight.”
    Seregil glanced out the window, where the grey lowering clouds were beginning to brighten. “It’s almost dawn. We might as well stay up and have an early breakfast. We’ll go to the temple at sunrise. Valerius is a disgustingly early riser.”

 
    S EREGIL and Alec set off for the Temple Precinct just after dawn. Both were stiff and bruised from the night’s attack, and Seregil’s voice was still as rough as a crow’s. The cut left behind by the assassin’s garrote was a scabbed, angry red line just below the edge of his collar. Alec’s hand wasn’t much better, being a deeper cut.
    The early-morning sky was filled with lowering red-tinted clouds that presaged more rain to come. Leaving their horses with a precinct ostler, they made their way on foot past lesser temples and shrines to the heart of the precinct.
    The main temples of the Four flanked the black-and-white-paved square, washed at this early hour with a soft morning glow that made the white paving stones look pink in the light and pale blue in the shadows. The stones here were laid out to form squares within squares, which in turn formed a greater pattern symbolizing the eternal unity and balance of the Sacred Four. The white-domed Temple of Illior and the dark bulk of the square-pillared Temple of Sakor faced each other across it, looking west and east. Red firelight showed between Sakor’s pillars at all hours, reflecting off the great ruby-studded gold aegis that hung behind the altar.
    The Temple of Astellus with its fountains, and Dalna’s temple in its great grove, took the other two sides. A soft hush hung perpetually over the sacred site, and at this hour there was little to hear but the bright tinkling of the falling water and the mournful cooing of the Maker’s doves. Although Sakor and Illior were the patron Immortals of Skala,this sacred square with its four temples was repeated in every city and town; even the humblest villages had a small patch of ground flanked by four simple shrines. Reverence for the Four, in all their complex unity, had for centuries given Skala internal harmony and power.
    They climbed the broad staircase leading up to the open doors of the Dalnan temple and left their boots in the care of an elderly verger. There were already quite a few other shoes lined up in the portico.
    The huge temple hall was