Traitor's Moon

to a woman working over a nearby brazier. “Morsa, Kerian, finish with that dhima and get it heated!” This last was directed at several men who were struggling to stretch a thick felt cover over a wooden frame.
    Kneeling beside Klia, Alec listened to the faint, steady whistle of breath in her throat. Her face had taken on a bluish pallor, and the dark circles around her eyes had deepened alarmingly.
    â€œLook at this,” said Seregil, lifting Klia’s free hand. The flesh beneath her fingernails had turned a dusky blue. Her bare feet showed the same discoloration up to the ankles, and were icy to the touch.
    â€œShe shows signs of poisoning,” Mydri said doubtfully, “yet it’s like none I’ve ever seen. None of the usual remedies alleviate her stupor, but still she lives.”
    Alec looked at Thero again. The wizard was sweating and drawn. “What’s he doing?”
    â€œI tried a divining trance,” Thero said without opening his eyes. “Some magic blocked my vision, which suggests that whoever did this covered his tracks. Now I’m just lending her strength. Magyana and I did the same for her mother.”
    The woman at the brazier brought over a cup and began patiently spooning its contents between Klia’s lips, a few drops at a time. Theworkmen finished with the dhima and lifted it to cover Klia, the woman, and the makeshift fire pit.
    â€œFrom the time you first met with Klia this morning, what did you see her eat?” Mydri asked Alec.
    â€œAlmost nothing before we left,” Alec replied. “She complained of being wine sick.”
    â€œSo Beka said, but she did eat later. Just list it off. Whatever you saw the whole day.”
    â€œA little bread, an apple. I picked some wintergreen leaves for her in the woods to settle her stomach. I think she nibbled a bit of that. And I’m sure that’s what it was. I tasted it myself to be sure.
    â€œBy the time we stopped for the midday meal she seemed better. She shared part of a roast kutka with Beka and me, drank a little wine—” Alec closed his eyes, picturing the meal. “Nazien offered her cheese and bread. But I saw him eat from the same portions.”
    â€œThe poisoning could have been accidental,” said Mydri. “Did she eat anything wild besides the wintergreen? Berries, mushrooms? The scent of caramon buds is tempting, but they’re dangerous even in small amounts.”
    Seregil shook his head. “She knows better than that.”
    The sound of retching came from inside the dhima and went on for several minutes. When it subsided the woman nursing Klia handed a basin out to Mydri. She inspected the contents closely, then passed it to another servant to carry away. “It appears you are correct, Alec.”
    â€œWhat about snakebite?” suggested Thero.
    â€œThere are no snakes in Aurënen, only dragons,” Seregil said.
    Mydri shrugged. “The sweating and purges should help. That and some strengthening magic are all we can do for now. She’s survived this long. Perhaps this will pass.”
    â€œPerhaps?” Alec rasped.
    Sergeant Mercalle entered hesitantly, dispatch pouch in hand. “Captain? I was about to send this when we got the news about Lord Torsin, so I held it for the Commander’s return.” She cast a mournful look at the dhima. “It’s sealed and ready to go, but shouldn’t someone write Queen Phoria about what’s happened?”
    Beka looked over at Seregil and the others. “Who do I take orders from now?”
    â€œThat would be you, Thero,” said Seregil. “You’re the last Skalan standing with any noble blood in him. The Iia’sidra certainly won’t deal with me.”
    Thero nodded gravely. “Very well. Send it as it is, Captain. We’ll inform the queen of her sister’s illness when we have determined the cause. It’s unwise to risk spreading rumor without facts.”
    Mercalle saluted. “And the Haman, my lord?”
    Thero looked to Seregil. “You’re my adviser now. What do we do with them?”
    â€œHold Emiel, but let Nazien and the rest go back to their tupa under pledge of honor. Don’t worry. He won’t go anywhere, and if any of his people make a dash for it, we’ll know who our poisoner is. Beka, station some of your people to keep an eye on them, but discreetly.”
    â€œI’ll see to it