Traitor's Moon

they’d do anything to protect themselves, but assassination!” a taverner exclaimed, treating them to mugs of her best. “Maybe the Khatme are right about too much contact with outsiders. No offense to present company of course. I’m talking of the Plenimarans.”
    â€œYou won’t hear us defending them,” Seregil assured her.
    Stopping in at another tavern, they met Rhaish í Arlisandin, accompanied by several younger kinsmen. The khirnari seemed surprised to see them.
    â€œWith all the unrest in the city tonight, we thought we’d stop by and see that you and your people are safe,” Seregil explained, joining him at a long table and accepting a mug of ale.
    â€œI thank you for that,” Rhaish replied. “These are uncertain times indeed when the insidious weapons of Plenimar are found in Sarikali.”
    â€œIt chills my heart,” Seregil agreed. “I thought you’d be at Torsin’s funeral.”
    Rhaish shook his head sadly. “As you say, the mood of the city is so uncertain tonight, I thought it would be better if I remained with my own people.”
    As if to underscore this, the sound of angry shouting broke out suddenly in the direction of Khatme tupa.
    â€œAura protect us!” Rhaish groaned, sending men to investigate. “See that none of our people are doing violence!”
    â€œPerhaps you’re wise to remain close to home,” Seregil observed. “Those who struck at us may strike at our closest allies, too.”
    â€œJust as you say,” Rhaish acknowledged wearily. “But surely the guilt of the Virésse is clear? Why hasn’t Klia declared teth’sag against them?”
    â€œSkalans.” Seregil shrugged and spread his hands, as if that explained everything.
    â€œI must attend my people,” Rhaish said, rising to go. “I trust you’ll keep me informed of any new discoveries?”
    â€œOf course. Aura’s Light shine on you.”
    â€œAnd you.” The khirnari’s escort closed ranks behind him as he continued on his way.
    Alec watched the stooped figure fade into the night. “Poor fellow. Except for Gedre and us, no one else stands to lose as much when everything goes to pieces. And it’s going to, isn’t it?”
    Seregil said nothing for a moment, listening as the distant shouting took on a more dire tone. “I didn’t come home for this, Alec. Not to watch the two lands I’ve called home bring each other down. We’ve got to uncover the truth of all this, and soon.”
    A moment later a tiny point of bluish light flickered into being just in front of them, one of Thero’s message spheres. The wizard’s voice issued softly from it, drained of emotion: “Come back at once.”

37
W ORSE N EWS
    T he arrangements for Torsin’s funeral came together quickly, thanks to Nyal. He’d even turned up a bundle of spices somewhere, and with these Kheeta’s mother had skillfully overseen the preparation of the corpse. By the time she and her helpers had sewn it into layers of canvas and patterned silk, the odor was almost tolerable.
    Unwilling to spare too many soldiers from guarding the house, Beka took only Nyal, Kheeta, and her three corporals as torchbearers. A cart draped with cloaks and prayer scrolls served as catafalque, bearing Torsin out to a site on the plain outside the city. Adzriel and Säaban accompanied them, each with a painted prayer kite honoring the dead man. It was fully dark now, but the soft gleam of massed wizard lights was guide enough.
    â€œWell, look at that, would you?” Nikides exclaimed softly.
    In spite of the general unrest, at least a hundred Aurënfaie had gathered on the moon-washed plain. The pyre, a rectangular stack of cedar and oak logs fifteen feet high, was surmounted by a pair of carved dragon heads. Dozens of prayer scrolls fluttered against its sides.
    â€œYou’d think he was one of their own,” said Corporal Zir.
    â€œHe was a good man,” Nyal said.
    Beka hadn’t known Torsin well, but sensed a rightness in this final moment; the man had spent his life, and perhaps given it, trying to bring the two races together.
    Kallas and Nikides slid the body into a shelflike opening near the top of the pyre. Adzriel made a few prayers in the dead man’s behalf, then stepped back. Beka and her riders were about to light the tinder when another rider galloped out