Traitor's Moon

33 BACKTRACKING

A sizable entourage awaited Alec in front of the house. Saaban and Kheeta had half a dozen kinsmen with them, all with swords and bows. Braknil and his decuria flanked them, dressed for battle.

"Have you something of Klia's for me?" asked Saaban, his long face graver than usual beneath his dark green sen'gai.

Alec handed him the tunic Klia had worn to the hunt, still stained with dirt and blood. Saaban held it between his hands for a moment, then nodded. "Good. The feeling of her khi is strong. I can even sense her illness. If she touched some object that caused her harm and it is there, I should be able to sense it. It does take great concentration, however. I can't just ride along picking things out of the air."

"But if I show you where she fell, you could check the immediate area, couldn't you? Emiel may have dropped the ring or whatever it was into the stream."

Saaban shrugged. "It is possible."

Possible. Alec sighed, doubting they'd come back anything but empty-handed. "All right, then. Let's get going."

They followed the same route as before, riding hard for stretches, stopping when Alec recognized places they'd halted the previous day.

This was the first time since his arrival that he'd had the opportunity for any extended conversation with Saaban, and it occurred to Alec as they rode that if not for the standing ban against Seregil, he and Saaban would be calling each other kin.

The man's quiet demeanor made him easily overlooked at banquets. Today, however, he proved to be a valuable companion, a skilled and patient tracker. He reminded Alec of Micum Cavish, and the similarity was underscored by the sword at Saaban's side. The hilt was worn with use, the scabbard scarred and weathered.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Alec said as they combed a site together on foot. "Killing is forbidden, and murder is rare among the 'faie, yet your sword has clearly seen some use."

"As has yours," Saaban replied with a knowing look at Alec's scabbard. "We fight Zengati raiders, mostly. The slavers grow bolder by the decade."

"I thought Seregil's father made peace with them?"

"With some, not all. They're a tribal people, not controlled by any one ruler. Rather like the Aurenfaie, I suppose," he added with a fleeting smile.

"And there are bandits in the mountains, too," said Kheeta, whose scabbard showed considerably less wear. "There's a troublesome band of them who range north of Bokthersa—a real mongrel pack: teth'brimash, mostly, with some Zengati and Dravnians mixed in. They steal, slave, whatever takes their fancy." He tugged proudly at his lock of white hair. "That's how I got this. The first time I went out to fight them, one of the faithless bastards tried to take my head off. I dodged just in time to get away with a nick, then returned the favor, but lower."

"We may abhor fighting, but those of us who live on the coasts and borders must train our children to the bow and sword as soon as they can hold them," said Saaban.

"Then it wasn't just life in Skala that made Seregil so good?"

Kheeta snorted. "No, he comes from a long line of swordsmen: his father, his uncle, their father before them."

"That's the way it is with our people, too," said Sergeant Braknil, who'd been following the conversation.

"I've watched you Skalans at your practices," said Kheeta. "I would rather fight beside you than against you."

"We should put on a demonstration for the Iia'sidra," Alec joked. "Maybe that would sway them to helping us."

"The final outcome of the vote will have little to do with Skala." Saaban told him.

"What about what's happened to Klia and Torsin? I thought the harming of a guest was a great crime, especially at Sarikali," said Alec.

"It is a grievous offense, but it is a matter of atui, not unlike what happened when Seregil committed his unfortunate act. Bokthersa was banned from the Iia'sidra until the matter was tried and teth'sag satisfied, just as the Haman are now."

"It was only out of respect for the rhui'auros that the matter was settled as it was," said Kheeta.

"The rhui'auros?" Alec looked at the two men in surprise.

Saaban exchanged a look with Kheeta. "Then it is true. Seregil has not told you what happened."

"Not much." Alec shifted uncomfortably. "Just that the Iia'sidra spared his life after he was questioned by a rhui'auros."

"It was the rhui'auros who saved Seregil from execution, not the Iia'sidra," Saaban explained. "His guilt was clear and the Haman demanded the two bowls in spite of his youth. Korit i Solun did not contest the sentence. Before it could be carried out, however, a rhui'auros intervened, asking that Seregil be brought to Sarikali. He was in the Nha'mahat for three days. At the end, the rhui'auros themselves ordered his banishment. Seregil was transported directly to Viresse and sent to Skala."

"Three days?" Alec recalled how uneasy Seregil had been that night they'd gone there. "What did they do to him?"

"No one knows exactly, but I was there when he came out afterward," Kheeta replied, suddenly grim. "He wouldn't look at any of us, and wouldn't speak. The ride to Viresse took over a week, and he hardly said a word the whole way. The one time I got close enough to talk to him, he said he wished they'd just killed him."

"Some say the rhui'auros took part of his khi from him," Saaban murmured.

"I think it was Ilar who did that," said Alec. "But you said that what's happened here now is somehow the same?"

"In some ways," the older Bokthersan replied. "As a descendant of Corruth i Glamien, Klia may be able to claim teth'sag. In the meantime, a clan under suspicion cannot vote."

"And if guilt is not proven?"

Saaban spread his hands. "Then teth'sag cannot be carried out. How do you mean to proceed, if you do not find what you are looking for in the forest?"

"I suppose we begin with anyone who had the most reason to hurt Klia. The way I see it, that brings in the Viresse first of all, since they're the ones with the most to lose. Then there are the Khatme, who hate us because we're Tir, outsiders."

Saaban considered this. "There's sense in what you say, yet you are thinking with the mind of a Tir. This outrage was committed by an Aurenfaie. Their reasons might not be what you suppose."

"You're saying I should think like an Aurenfaie?"

"As you are not one, I doubt that's possible, any more than I could think like a murderer. It's madness to kill another. How can one think like a madman unless you are mad yourself?"

Alec smiled. "Seregil claims that Aurenfaie have no talent for murder. Where I'm from, it comes a bit easier to most—whether they're doing it or just thinking of it."

They reached the clearing at midmorning and found everything as it had been the day before. The ash in the fire circles was damp and undisturbed. Flies buzzed lazily over the piles of offal left where hunters had cleaned their kill.

Alec could still make out Klia's footprints beside the cascading series of pools. "It was here that I found her and Emiel," he told Saaban, showing him the spot.

The Bokthersan draped Klia's tunic over one shoulder and began a tuneless humming.

The pool Alec had found her beside yielded nothing. However, a few yards downstream Saaban halted suddenly and plunged his hand into the water, bringing up a sodden arrowhead pouch. An ivory plaque on one of the drawstrings showed the flame and crescent device of the Skalan royal house.

"It's Klia's, all right," Alec said, examining it. "It must have come loose during the struggle."

Saaban held the pouch in one hand, concentrating. When he spoke again, his voice had a high, singsong timbre. "Yes. Her legs gave way and she fell, choking on water. Her face—her eyelids were heavy, stiff."

"Emiel?" Alec asked hopefully.

Saaban shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alec. It is only Klia I feel on this."

They spent the next hour searching but turned up nothing but a few lost buttons and a Skalan amulet.

Searching the edges of the main clearing, Alec looked up to see Saaban on the far side, rubbing wearily at his forehead. He'd made no complaint, but Alec guessed that even for the 'faie magic took a toll on the user.

He slowly retraced the way Klia and Emiel had taken down to the stream, poking into clumps of dead leaves and bracken along the way. Reaching the spot where he'd overtaken them, he looked around again. The only other marks were those left by the soldiers who'd carried Klia up the slope to her horse, a steeper but more direct route than the path. Following this, he cast back and forth as he worked his way up the hillside. The ground here was covered with dead leaves and fresh new undergrowth; an easy place to lose a small item. Saaban followed, humming softly to himself as he searched in his own fashion.

Reaching the top, Alec turned and started down again, knowing that things always looked different with a change of direction. Halfway down, his patience was rewarded with a glimpse of something in a clump of tiny pink flowers.

Alec went down on one knee, heart suddenly beating faster. It was an Akhendi bracelet, half trampled into the soft ground. Pulling it free, he saw that it was the one he'd watched Amali make for Klia that first night in Sarikali; there was no mistaking the complicated pattern on the band. The ties had broken, but the bird-shaped charm still hung from it, coated in mud. Alec used the hem of his shirt to clean it, then let out a low whistle of triumph.

The pale wood had gone a telltale black.

"Ah, no wonder I missed this," Saaban said, though he looked a bit chagrined. "The magic on it interferes with my own. Are you certain it is Klia's?"

"Yes, I saw it on her yesterday morning." He touched the charm. "And this was still white. I don't suppose you can tell anything from it?"

"No. You'd best take it to an Akhendi."

For the first time that day, Alec smiled. "I know just the Akhendi for the task."

Kheeta's grin mirrored his own. "Let's hope Seregil is as lucky with his search."