Traitor's Moon

the same rush of heat she had that day in Gedre. “I’m willing to work for that, talí,” she replied. “But if you come with me, you could be dead before next spring, too, or I could. Are you willing to risk that?”
    â€œI am, my beautiful warrior,” he replied earnestly, lifting a strand of her hair to his lips and kissing it.
    Beautiful?
she thought, smiling to herself as she pulled him close again. When had she started believing that? “Will your khirnari let you go?”
    â€œShe may be glad to get rid of me after what she learns tonight. Otherwise—” The grin he gave her could have beaten one of Seregil’s best. “I think I’m a bit past asking permission, don’t you?”

53
A CCUSATIONS
    W e never counted on coming back. Now they’re going to ask why we left,” Alec fretted as he and Seregil changed clothes for the evening’s work. “I don’t like the idea of lying to the Iia’sidra.”
    â€œDon’t lie,” Seregil replied, stirring through the clothes chest for a coat. “Just stand by me and look convincing. That was one of the first things I decided about you, that day we met.”
    â€œWhat? That I’m a poor Ilar?” Grinning, Alec reached around him and fished out a favorite blue coat.
    â€œThat, and that you have an honest face. Those have their uses.” Seregil paused over the somber black coat, then rejected it—too sinister given the current circumstances. A dark green one followed it into the discard pile—close enough in shade to Bôkthersa’s color to seem like a clumsy plea for acceptance.
    He settled at last on one of Alec’s, a russet brown, for no better reason than he couldn’t come up with any negative association with the color.
    No one’s going to care what you’re wearing
.
    Yes, but it’s better than thinking about where I’m headed
.
    Pulling the coat on, he did up the carvedbuttons and buckled on a wide belt. At the mirror, he examined the bruises on his face. Those Emiel had given him were going yellow around the edges, and the place where the Akhendi ambusher had kicked him was still dark and swollen. He was quite a sight.
    â€œThey’ll show better if you tie your hair back,” Alec suggested, guessing his thoughts.
    â€œGood point.”
    A knock sounded at the door and Thero came in. “Korathan is waiting. Are you ready?”
    Seregil shrugged. “What do you think?”
    Thero looked them over with a critical eye, then went to Alec and tugged at a strand of brown-dyed hair. “You don’t want to have to explain this, do you? Hold still.”
    He closed his eyes for a moment, then slowly combed his fingers through the younger man’s hair from forehead to nape, returning the dark hair to its natural color.
    â€œThank you, Thero. I’ve always preferred blond men,” said Seregil.
    â€œI’ve taken a great deal of comfort in that over the years,” the wizard shot back, tossing them their cloaks. “Now, hoods up until you make your grand entrance. I’ll be with Klia.”
    â€œI’m beginning to feel like one of those actors back at the Tirari theater,” said Alec.
    â€œSo am I,” Seregil said. “Let’s just hope tonight’s play doesn’t turn out to be a tragedy.”
    The rest of the household had already assembled in the main hall. Adzriel and her entourage stood with Korathan next to Klia’s velvet-draped litter. All Seregil could make out of the princess through the crowd were booted feet below the hem of a silk gown. Beka and her riders stood close by, holding themselves a bit aloof from Korathan’s guard. Nyal was there, too, talking quietly with one of Mercalle’s riders.
    Mydri caught Seregil’s eye and came over. Clasping his hands between her own, she held them tightly a moment.
    â€œWhat do you suppose the Iia’sidra will do with me, once they know I’m here?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know. They’re very angry. The Haman have asked for the death sentence this time.”
    Seregil gave her a crooked grin. “We’ll see how they feel after I’m done with them tonight.”
    Korathan and Adzriel took the lead as they set off. Braknil’s men carried Klia’s litter, flanked by the Orëska wizards and the remaining members of Urgazhi Turma. Pale but alert, Klia lay propped up on