"No. He thinks I'm destined to fail. He says I have enemies close by who will destroy me."

"Did he say who they were?"

"No."

The minister said something else, though Numar couldn't say for certain what it was. Indeed, a moment later he found that he couldn't remember at all what he had just been saying.

"My lord?"

He stared at the Qirsi for a moment. "What?"

"You were telling me that you've yet to hear from the emperor as to his request for soldiers."

"Was I?"

"Yes. And so you don't know how high to set the quotas for the other houses."

"That's right, I don't. I expect it will be at least five hundred men from each."

"Some of the dukes may object. Dantrielle, for instance."

"Yes. Dantrielle, Bistari, perhaps Tounstrel. I'm aware of the problem." He frowned. The man always seemed to be prying into Numar's affairs, as if he considered himself regent. "The dukes are my concern, Archminister. I'd ask you to leave them to me."

The Qirsi inclined his head slightly and stood. "Of course, my lord. Forgive me. I'll leave you now."

"Yes, please."

He watched the minister leave, and only when the door finally closed did he feel his anger begin to sluice away. He would have to be more wary of Pronjed. The man was probably every bit as dangerous as Henthas. Numar walked back to his writing table and began to search for the most recent message from Braedon's emperor. After a few moments he paused, however, gazing at the door once more.

Something about his conversation with the Qirsi disturbed him. If only he could remember what it was.

Pronjed strode through the castle corridors, his rage threatening to break free at any instant. It was bad enough that he had to humiliate himself before the Weaver, begging his forgiveness for actions that should have been lauded rather than punished. But to have to tolerate such treatment from the regent was almost too much. Numar might have been intelligent for an Eandi, he might even have been the canniest of the brothers Renbrere, but he was still a weak-minded oaf. Bending the man's will and mind was proving itself all too easy. Unfortunately, what he had learned from this most recent encounter had disturbed him greatly. Numar, it seemed, was but one dolt among many.

Reaching the door he sought, he rapped hard on the oak and pushed the door open in response to the summons from within.

He was careful to close the door before saying anything. But once it was shut, he whirled toward the figure standing by the open window, leveling a rigid finger at him.

"You're a fool!"

Henthas grinned, though his eyes blazed angrily. "No, Archminister. I'm a Jackal, remember. I believe you've just come from the Fool."

"This is no joke!"

" *This is no joke, my lord.' Isn't that what you mean?"

"You told him he had enemies in the castle?" Pronjed said, ignoring comment. "You told him that he was destined to fail?"

Henthas eyed him keenly. "How do you know what I said to him?"

"I have my sources. I've lived in this castle, and among these people, far longer than you have."

"You had someone listening to our conversation?"

"Why would you tell him these things? Are you so childish that you just have to gloat, or is it more than that?" He took a step toward the man. "Are you planning to betray me to him? Is that it? Are you playing both sides of this?"

He knew, of course, that Henthas was doing just that, but he needed to give the duke an opportunity to deny it. Which the man did, quite convincingly.

"Calm yourself, Archminister. I'm not planning to betray you, and I've done far less damage than you seem to think. Numar has never trusted youa"you've been Chofya's ally from the very beginning, at least that's how it seemed to Numar, and to Grigor as well. He's thought of you as his enemy for so long that I'd imagine he's looking elsewhere trying to decide who I meant. All I've done is confuse him."

Pronjed exhaled through his teeth and straightened. The duke was probably right, though that did little to ease the minister's frustration with the man. He shouldn't have spoken to the regent of enemies, nor should he have been encouraging the man to kill the girl-queen. Of course he could say nothing about that part of their discussion, not without making Henthas even more curious about the sources of his information.

Apparently the duke's thoughts had wandered in a similar direction.

"What else do you know about what Numar and I said to one another?"

"Very little. Perhaps you'd care to tell me more."

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"You still think he means to do harm to the queen?"

"I believe it's possible. Numar wants to be king, and the girl stands in his path."

"You want to be king, too."

His face colored. "Yes, I do. But I know that the dukes will never allow such a thing. They'd overthrow the Supremacy before they accepted me as their ruler. That's why Numar is so dangerous for the girl. They'd believe him innocent of any crime against her. I doubt Chofya will ever believe this, but I'm far more suited to be regent than my brother."

"Because your reputation is so poor that you could never get away with murdering the child."

"Precisely."

Pronjed gave a thin smile. "Such reasoning hardly flatters you, my lord."

"No," the man said, "I don't suppose it does. But you can't deny that it makes sense."

It was hard to know just what Henthas had in mind to accomplish with all his machinations. The minister could have used magic to divine his thoughts, just as he had with Numar, but he thought it safer to employ such tactics against only one of them. And though the regent had made the mistake of taking his brother too lightly, Pronjed still considered Numar the more intelligent of the two brothers, and therefore the more dangerous. Thus he had to content himself with gleaning what he could of Henthas's intentions from his conversations with the man, and from his probing of Numar's mind.

It seemed that the duke hoped to raise Pronjed's fears of Numar, claiming that he did so out of concern for the queen, and as a secret ally of Chofya. At the same time, he plotted with the regent, urging him to kill the girl. No doubt he hoped that any attempt on Kalyi's life would confirm all he had said to Pronjed of Numar's dark ambitions. If the girl survived, Numar's disgrace would hand him the regency. If she died, Numar would be executed, and he would claim the throne.

The role he envisioned for Pronjed in all of this was even less apparent. Clearly he needed to have someone else calling Numar a murderer, since no one would trust him to tell the truth. But more than that, he had probably guessed that Numar would attempt to blame him for Kalyi's death. He needed Pronjed to protect him from his brother.

"So," Henthas began after a long silence, "do you intend to speak to Chofya of this?"

"She should probably know that the queen's life is in danger," Pronjed said. "But if you'd prefer to tell her yourself, I'll keep silent."

The duke shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I . . . I don't think she'd believe any of this coming from me. And then the danger to Kalyi would remain. You should tell her."

"What if I don't believe you?"

Henthas frowned. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Any number of reasons. Your reputation, all that you have to gain from destroying your brother, all that you could gain from killing the queen yourself and making it seem that the regent was responsible. You came to me some time ago, indicating that you would help me keep the girl alive, and telling me that Numar was my enemy. But I've seen no evidence of any of this beyond your word." He opened his hands. "And I'm afraid that doesn't count for very much."

Henthas gave that same thin smile again. "What is it you want?"

This had to be handled delicately. The Weaver wanted Solkara weakened as war with Eibithar drew nearer, but Henthas would resist any action that was too obvious. And with relations between the brothers deteriorating, there was no guarantee that Numar would listen to him anyway. Still, Pronjed had to try.

"What do you think of this war your brother is planning with the emperor?"

"If it succeeds, it will strengthen the realm and our house for generations. If it fails, it will probably mean the end of the Supremacy."

"Do you think it will fail?"

Henthas stared at him, his eyes narrowing. "Perhaps I should ask the same of you, Archminister."

"I'm not certain I know what you mean."

"Then allow me to be more explicit. For some time now I've wondered when this conspiracy of which we've heard so much might strike at House Solkara. Ours is the leading house in the realm, after all, and if the rumors reaching Aneira from throughout the Forelands are to be believed, the Qirsi have been more than willing to strike at other royal houses. I find it impossible to fathom that the conspiracy would ignore us. Which leads to a most obvious question: who is the traitor in our midst?"

Pronjed stood motionless, struggling to ease the pounding of his pulse. He had anticipated such an accusation from Numara"not because he thought the regent knew anything for certain but because it would have served the man's purposes to raise doubts about Pronjed's loyalty. But for Henthas to have reasoned it through . . . This was the last thing he had expected.

"Are you asking me if I am this traitor?"

"Would that surprise you?"

"Yes, my lord, it would. I've served House Solkara for many years, and no one has ever questioned my loyalty."

"Nevertheless, I must ask. Are you a traitor?"

The minister let out a short laugh. "How am I to answer? Would you believe me if I said I wasn't?"

"Probably not. But neither would I have you hanged if you said you were. At least not right away."

"I don't understand."

"We're both traitors, Archminister."

"I never saida""

"That you were part of the conspiracy? Of course you didn't. You don't have to. Even without such an admission, you're guilty of treason, as am I. We speak openly of defying the regent, of undermining his power. Yes, we do so to save the queen, but it's still treason. It matters little if you have compounded that betrayal by joining the conspiracy. If one of us decides to betray the other, we're both dead men."

Pronjed wasn't certain what to say. The duke's accusations left him shaken; the man's reassurances only confused him.

"You needn't look so worried, Pronjed. I don't intend to speak of this to anyone, at least not for a while. Regardless of where your loyalties lie, our interests are the same for now. We both need House Solkara to remain strong and we both need to keep Numar from growing too powerful, which means that we share a desire to keep the queen safe. At some point in the future, our interests will diverge, and I make no promises about what I will and won't do then. But for now, you have nothing to fear from me."

"You speak of treason with unsettling ease, my lord. I assure you, I am no traitor. I may speak against the regent, but only because you tell me that he threatens the queen, to whom I owe my allegiance."

Even the minister could hear how hollow his denials sounded, but he had little choice but to offer them anyway. The duke would expect no less.

"Of course, Archminister," Henthas said, sounding unconvinced. "You understand, I had to ask."

"Of course, my lord." He paused. Then, "Perhaps I should go."

"Probably."

He turned toward the door, but the duke spoke his name, stopping him.

"My lord?"

The man was grinning once more, as if he had just won a great victory, looking every bit the jackal. "I trust you'll never come in here again calling me a fool, or questioning my actions."

Pronjed had to stifle a retort. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. Now get out."

The archminister stalked from the chamber, gritting his teeth. It would be a pleasure killing the man. Killing them both, actually. The brothers Renbrere.

In good time.

CHAPTER.

Fourteen.

She still didn't want to believe that her father had killed himself. It was a violation of Ean's doctrines and it be spoke a sadness she wouldn't even have wished on her uncle, the duke. But Numar had told her that there could be little doubt about how her father died, and she remembered overhearing her mother say much the same thing at the time of her father's funeral.

Kalyi had hoped, in speaking with the regent, that she might find some proof that her father had been killed, that all of the adults in the castle had been wrong about his death. In the wake of their conversation, she lost all enthusiasm for her "inquiry," as Numar had called it. How was she to learn what her father had been thinking when he died? If there had been a way to know this, wouldn't her mother have found it by now?

But as the day wore on, and she dreamed her way through her studies, thinking more about her father than about Aneiran history and the battle tactics of Queen Amnalla the Second, her resolve began to return. She had first decided in the days just after her father's death to learn all she could about why he had died. It had been the most frightening time of her life. Her uncle Grigor had poisoned her mother and the Council of Dukes, an Eibitharian spy had been spotted in the city, and it seemed the entire land was poised to go to war over whether or not to make her queen. She was too young to defend herself or her castle, too ignorant in the ways of the court to command an army, too small even to wear the heavy golden crown that her father had left for her. But she had a quick minda"all her tutors told her soa"and she had always been good at reasoning things out. So she had set herself this task. It was too late to save her father from whatever had caused him such grief, but it wasn't too late to understand.

Somewhere in the time since, she had tried to convince herself that her father had been murdered, that he couldn't have died by his own hand. She knew now that she was wrong.

But nothing else had changed. She was still intelligent enough to ask the right questions and to learn what she could from what her father had left behind. And that, she decided in the middle of her lessons, was what she would do.

It seemed only natural that she should speak first with her mother, and so when her last tutor of the day ended her lesson, asking her please to be more attentive tomorrow, she ran from the chamber to her mother's sleeping quarters, which were just beside her own.

She found her mother sitting by the open window, staring out at a clear blue sky. Her mother rarely left her chambers anymore. She took most of her meals there, only venturing beyond her walls for formal meals in the great hall and occasional walks in the castle gardens. She was still beautifula"Kalyi thought her the most beautiful woman in the realma"but there were thin strands of silver appearing in the dark hair at her temples, and her face was paler than Kalyi remembered from before her father's death.

"Good day, love," her mother said from her chair, her face brightening as Kalyi let herself into the room.

"Hello, Mother."