Casket of Souls

cabinets similar to the one upstairs. The sweet aroma of snuffed candles still hung on the stale air.
    The cabinets were all locked and needle-trapped. Seregil carefully picked the lock of the left-hand cabinet and found stacks of papers on an upper shelf, and on the lower one cloth-wrapped parcels that reminded him of round wheels of Kerry cheese. He reached for one and found it surprisingly heavy. Undoing the wrappings, he saw that it was an Aurënfaie
kar
, a bowl-shaped ingot of pure gold about the size of a large bird’s nest. There were fifty-two in all. Seregil whistled softly through his teeth as he examined the markings on it; it bore Goliníl clan’s hallmark.
    So Kyrin must be smuggling something south, but what? The
khirnari
of Goliníl was hand in glove with the khirnari of neighboring Virésse; together they had opposed the opening of Aurënfaie ports other than wealthy Virésse, a treaty made by Klia. Perhaps they were backing a plot against her out of revenge, or foresight, if they really believed that she was a viable rival for the throne. Seregil eyed the kars; this represented a considerable amount of support by the ’faie, in return for what must have been some pretty convincing assurances from Kyrin. Since Aurënen was a collection of separate but interdependent clans, Goliníl could do this, while other clans, especially the western ones like Bôkthersa, benefited from the open ports and supported Phoria in her war.
    There were several caskets of jewels in the other cabinet. Taken all together, it was more than enough to finance a conspiracy—or a hasty escape.
    He turned his attention to the papers on the top shelf of the first cabinet, expecting more manifests. Instead he found a collection of short notes and, after reading a few, realized that they were most likely the translations of Danos’s codedletters. “Klia disagreed with the queen in front of the troops at Monton.” “Klia wounded at Alford.” “Hawk clipped Klia’s wings at Morninghill.” “Klia’s troop defeated at Ustin.” His forged note was among them. Another caught his eye: “Klia lives. No survivors.”
    “You bastards, you really did it,” Seregil muttered.
    There were more of the same in the other cabinet, and some in a different hand, pertaining to the queen’s movements. That came as little surprise, but it was the first time he’d found anything suggesting there was a spy in Phoria’s camp.
    Among the rest of it he found a rolled letter tied with scarlet ribbon. Seregil slipped the ribbon off and scanned it, recognizing Reltheus’s bold handwriting even before he read the signature at the bottom. It was addressed to Tolin. The first part dealt with the sale of some horses Tolin had purchased from the duke, and then made reference to the courtesan Hyli, whose favors he outlined in graphic detail. It was the last paragraph that sent Seregil’s heart racing.
    In reply to your question at the ball the other night—yes, when Danos is consort, I will urge him to have you appointed chief minister of the exchequer. Upon that you have my word
.
    Seregil seriously doubted that Reltheus had placed this in Kyrin’s hands. Bilairy’s Balls, was
everyone
in Rhíminee blackmailing each other this summer? And what could have possessed Reltheus to commit something like this to ink and parchment? Strictly speaking, it was not treasonous, but the wording—
when
Danos was consort, not if—would reflect extremely badly on both father and son if it was shown at court, and most likely end any marriage hopes between the two families. Had Kyrin snared Reltheus into this plot, this cabal? What Seregil had found so far pointed to the marquis being the head of the serpent, rather than the duke. Kyrin was not as social, but he seemed to have the more impressive collection of information. It appeared that Danos sent his messages to his father, to avoid suspicion, then Reltheus passed them on to Kyrin. Which meant Kyrin was taking the greatest risk, though Reltheus had something more personal at stake.
    And how had Kyrin gotten the letter? From Tolin himself, perhaps, since the man seemed to be quite solidly in the plot. Unless Kyrin was blackmailing him, as well? Seregil frowned as he replaced the letter; holding a conspiracy together by coercion was a recipe for disaster. No, it was more likely only Reltheus, whose use lay in his son’s position in Klia’s regiment. Should Reltheus’s hopes be realized, Seregil wondered