Traitor's Moon

how can you support those who ask us to embrace the murderers of your own kinsman?”
    â€œAre the Skalans a single clan, that the action of one member brings shame to all?” Adzriel replied. “The Exile, once my brother, stands among us now in part due to his role in solving the mystery of Corruth’s disappearance. Thanks to his efforts, the bones of my kinsman lie in Bôkthersa at last, and the clan of those who killed him has suffered disgrace and punishment.
Atui
had been served.”
    â€œAh, yes!” sneered Nazien. “And what an advantageous discovery that was. It occurs to me that we have only the word of his murderers that the bundle of charred bones we saw was that of Corruth. What proof has been offered?”
    â€œProof enough for his kinswoman, the queen,” Klia retorted. “Proof enough for me, who saw the body before it was burned. And proof remains. Seregil, if you would?”
    Steeling himself, Seregil rose and faced Nazien. “Khirnari, did you know Corruth í Glamien well?”
    â€œI did,” Nazien snapped, then added pointedly, “in the days long before discord sundered the bonds of friendship between Haman and Bôkthersa.”
    Thanks so much for bringing that up here
, Seregil thought.
But strike a bruise often enough and it goes numb
.
    â€œThen you would recognize this, Khirnari.” He pulled out the ring and carried it slowly around the circle for inspection.
    Nazien’s face darkened with suspicion as it came round to him. “This was Corruth’s,” he grudgingly acknowledged.
    â€œI removed this and the consort’s seal ring from the hand of his intact corpse before it was burned,” Seregil told him, looking the man squarely in the eye. “As Princess Klia has stated, she herself saw the body.” When all had seen and acknowledged the ring, he returned to his seat.
    â€œThe murder of Corruth is the concern of Bôkthersa and the Skalan queen, not of this assembly,” Elos í Orian of Goliníl argued impatiently. “What Princess Klia has just proposed challenges the Edict of Separation. For more than two centuries we have lived peacefully within our own borders, trading with whom we choose without allowing foreigners and barbarians to roam our soil.”
    â€œTrading with whom Virésse chooses, you should say!” Rhaish í Arlisandin burst out angrily, prompting a groundswell murmur of agreement from many of the minor clans sitting in the outer circle. “It’s all well and good for you eastern clans—you do not have to cart your goods past the ports you once used, and you profit from those who must. When is the last time the markets of Akhendi or Ptalos saw Tírfaie goods and gold? Not since your Edict of Separation closed its hold about our throats!”
    â€œPerhaps Virésse would prefer to see Skala fall?” Iriel ä Kasrai of Bry’kha suggested. “After all, it has always been a shorter voyage to Benshâl than to Rhíminee!”
    Ulan í Sathil remained conspicuously silent as the others of the council warmed to the familiar fight; evidently the khirnari of the Virésse knew when to let others fight his battles for him.
    â€œThere’s your strongest adversary,” Seregil told Klia, letting the surrounding uproar cover his words.
    Klia glanced in Ulan’s direction and smiled. “Yes, I can see that. I want to know this man better.”
    Silmai was the wealthiest of the western clans, and Brythir í Nien had spared nothing in the name of hospitality. Tense as he was from the day’s business and the prospect of the evening still ahead, Seregil felt something loosen a little in his chest as he and the others entered the rooftop garden Brythir í Nien had prepared for them.
    Flowering plants and trees in huge carved urns were thickly banked around three sides of the roofline, screening the rest of the city from view except for the broad avenue below, which had been cordoned off for displays of horsemanship. Bright silk banners and prayer kites rustled softly in the evening breeze overhead. In water-bowls decorated with sea creatures, tiny silver ships carried candles and smoking cones of incense on their decks. The sen’gai of the Datsians and Bry’khans who’d already arrived added to the illusion that they’d all been transported to Silmai itself.
    â€œI thought the Haman were to be here?”