Whisper of Waves

39

17 Hammer, the Year of the Wyvern (1363 DR)

SECOND QUARTER, INNARLITH

Khonsu’s house reeked of an old man-which was not a surprise considering how old Khonsu was. Even his household staff was old. The young chambermaid was Willem’s mother’s age.

Willem stood in the drawing room, waiting for what felt like hour after hour listening to the maid help Khonsu down the stairs. Each step was an eternity of physical struggle, as difficult to listen to and wait for as it was for Khonsu to execute. Willem fiddled with the vial in his pocket and tried to focus his hearing on the wind instead.

“Mister Wheloon,” the maid said from the door and Willem turned from the window. He’d taken the alias from a small town north of Marsember, one he’d visited in his youth. “Senator Khonsu will receive you now.”

She stepped aside and Khonsu shuffled into the room. He was dressed in his typical conservative fashion, which surprised Willem. He’d half expected the old man to show up in his robe and slippers. Why had he thought that?

“Wheloon, is it?” the old man asked as he made his way to a chair and sat.

“Wheloon, yes, Senator.”

“I’ll be off to do the shopping, Senator,” the maid said. “Will you be all right with Mister Wheloon?”

She looked at Willem for an answer, but it was Khonsu who said, “Yes, yes, go on, go on. I can take care of myself.”

“Very well, then,” the maid said and closed the door behind her.

“The stupid girl,” Khonsu grumbled. “Take my advice, Wheloon, don’t live to be an old man. You’ll find yourself surrounded by fools who think you need them to change your knickers for you. It’s tiresome, being old.”

Willem nodded, not wanting to either agree or disagree.

“Sit down, boy,” the old senator said.

Willem took a chair across from Khonsu. Between them was a little table on which the maid had set a tea service.

“Shall I?” Willem asked.

The senator nodded and waved a hand at him. A window rattled from the wind, drawing the old man’s attention away.

“I hate this time of year,” he said.

Willem poured one cup of tea, and while Khonsu gazed out the window he emptied the contents of a slim silver vial into the steaming liquid.

“It’s been cold,” Willem said, his throat dry.

“Cold and windy … rainy,” the old man grated. “I hate this time of year. When you’re old like me-if you’re unlucky enough to get old like me-you’ll hate it too.” He turned back to Willem and took the offered cup of tea. “It’s pain, that’s all winter is to me. Pain in the muscles, in the joints, everywhere. Everywhere pain.”

“Is there anything I can do, Senator?”

“I have an apothecary, thank you, son,” Khonsu said. “I think the question at hand is more what I can do for you.”

Willem watched the old man drink his tea. He rubbed his sweating palms together and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. The window rattled again, startling Willem.

“I’m at a loss for words, Senator,” Willem said.

“You asked to see me,” said the old man. “You work for the master builder, and your name is Korvan, isn’t it? Not Wheloon. We’ve met before, son, and I’m old but not that old. Does Inthelph treat you well?”

Willem wanted to look away from the old man, but couldn’t. He could see the suspicion mounting in the senator’s gaze, but it was more curiosity than fear.

“He treats me like a son,” Willem said, and he was sincere. “I couldn’t ask for a better patron or mentor, and please accept my apologies for this Wheloon business. I just thought that perhaps some discretion….”

“I have secrets on everyone in this city, Korvan. I’m alive today because I keep them. What’s on your mind?”

Willem forced a smile, but inwardly grimaced at the sight of the old senator downing the rest of his tea in one half-choking swig.

“Your wisdom is valued by many in Innarlith,” Willem said. “I thought you might be able to answer questions for me that the master builder can’t.”

“Like, how can you move up if the master builder is always in your way?” Khonsu suggested with a wicked smile.

“Senator, I …” Willem hedged.

“Oh, come now, Korvan,” Khonsu said. “I’ve been around a long time, but I was young once. You’ve gone as far with Inthelph as you can. That whole wall business…. Word is you saved his incompetent arse on that one-and that keep of Osorkon’s as well. Old men take credit for the works of the young, Mister Korvan. The trick is to hang on until they drop dead. Present company excluded”-and he indicated himself with a wry smile-“they all drop dead eventually.”

The old man laughed, and Willem tried to laugh with him but couldn’t. Khonsu didn’t notice. All of a sudden, the old senator seemed to be having some trouble seeing. He blinked, looked around, then rubbed his eyes.

The window rattled again, loudly, startling them both.

“What was that?” Khonsu asked, still blinking.

“The wind,” Willem said.

“My …” said Khonsu. “All at once I can’t seem to …”

“I’m told it will resemble heartstop,” Willem said, his brain and his mouth moving all on their own, without his seeming to have any say in the matter. “In a man your age, that won’t surprise anyone, I should think. Old men drop dead after all, Senator, leaving room for the young.”

Khonsu coughed, and his eyesight returned enough that he could look Willem in the eye. He seemed somehow relieved.

“It’s not Inthelph who’s standing in the way, old man,” Willem went on. “It’s you. You’re standing in his way. All this talk. He’s heard it. He has more friends than you do now. This talk of incompetence …” Willem found it difficult to talk about that. It appeared that Khonsu was having even more trouble breathing, so Willem could pause in silence before going on. “Inthelph would regret this if he knew I’d come here to kill you and not just to trap you into admitting to me what the master builder already knows. You’ve done that, anyway, as well. I can’t have you turning on him, you fickle old …” Willem stopped himself from being too disrespectful. The murder was bad enough. “The poison in your tea was entirely my idea. The master builder thanks you for your support over the years.”

Willem stood and looked down at Khonsu, who, try as he might, could not breathe at all.

“Sorry, old man,” he whispered, looking Khonsu in the eye.

Willem walked out, also having a difficult time breathing.

He left Khonsu to die and went to the nearest public house where he didn’t stop drinking until it felt like he could sleep. By the time he fell into bed, the sun had come up.