The gleaner grinned, looking embarrassed. "I told you I could." His eyes flicked to Fotir, then back to her. "I'll return soon."

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, the smile slipping from her face. Abruptly she looked frightened and very young. "I'll be all right." She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself as well as the gleaner.

"I know."

He stooped to kiss her cheek, then left the chamber, stopping just in front of the guard. "If there's any troublea"any at alla"you come and find me. I'll be in the great hall. Understand?"

"Yes," the man said.

Grinsa looked back at her one last time before gesturing for Fotir to lead him to the hall.

Once they were away from the guards, Grinsa asked, "Whose idea was it for the nobles and ministers to gather separately?"

"I'm not certain. Word of the arrangement came from the king, but others may have suggested it."

"I don't like it."

"Nor do I. I said as much to my duke, but he seemed to feel the king's caution was justified."

"So Javan believes there's a traitor among the ministers?"

"He must think it's a possibility," Fotir said.

"Do you agree with him?"

The minister considered this for a moment as they walked through the ward and into the tower nearest the king's hall. "Shanstead's Qirsi is the one who deceived Thorald's first minister into revealing her involvement with the conspiracy. I trust him. I've never met Tremain's minister, but I have no reason to doubt her loyalty either. And the only one of the king's ministers who has given any sign of being capable of such betrayal is the archminister. I had little opportunity to meet her before Kearney's investiture, but from what I observed, I'm not convinced that she's a traitor either."

Grinsa seemed to falter briefly at the mention of the archminister, but otherwise he said nothing.

"You've been in the castle for some time now," Fotir said. "Do you suspect her?"

"No," the gleaner said quietly. "But I didn't suspect Cresenne either. And she and I shared a bed."

They stepped into the great hall a few moments later. The other ministers had already arrived and they turned toward the doorway when Fotir and Grinsa entered, several of them eyeing the gleaner warily.

"What's he doing here?" asked Dyre jal Frinval, one of the king's high ministers.

"This is Grinsa jal Arriet," Fotir said. "He knows the Qirsi woman being held in your prison tower, and he's spent the last several turns traveling with Lord Tavis, guarding the boy's life. I asked him to join us."

"This isn't Curgh, cousin. I don't care who he is or what he's done, you had no right to bring him, or anyone else, for that matter."

"It's all right, High Minister," the archminster broke in. "I see no reason why the gleaner shouldn't join us."

"You can't be serious," Dyre said. "As the First Minister just said, this man has ties to both Tavis, who may be a murderer, and this woman who bore his child, who admits to being a traitor. Isn't that reason enough?"

Fotir couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You still think Tavis is a murderer? Even after hearing of the woman's confession?"

"I don't know what to believe. Your friend there brought the woman to us, perhaps hoping that the king would take pity on her because of her child. This could all be a Curgh trick, intended to establish Tavis's innocence."

The others were watching Dyre, looking uncomfortable. But none of them disputed anything he had said.

Fotir chanced a look at Grinsa, expecting the gleaner to be beside himself with rage, just as Fotir would have been had the minister said such things about him. Instead, Grinsa wore a small smile, as if all of this amused him.

"And what of the attack on the woman two nights ago?" the archminister asked. "Was that a trick as well?"

Dyre shifted in his chair. "I don't know what that was."

"Then let me tell you," Grinsa said. "It was an attempt to silence her by the conspiracy's leader. He wanted her to suffer first, before he killed her, so he entered her dreams and used her own magic to shatter her hand and carve gashes in her face."

"How can you know this?" Dyre demanded.

"Cresenne told me so," the gleaner answered. "And it's the only explanation that makes any sense. The guards saw the wounds open on her facea"there was no blade, there was no intruder. Only the woman and her dreams."

"So the movement is led by a Weaver."

They all turned to look at Tremain's first minister, Evetta ja Rudek. She had paled noticeably, her fear written plainly on her soft features.

Keziah nodded. "It is. We learned this from Cresenne as well."

"Do we know the name of this Weaver?" Xivled asked. "Or where he can be found?"

"Not yet."

"She hasn't told you?"

"She doesn't know," Grinsa said.

Dyre looked skeptical. "Or so she claims."

The gleaner glared at him. "Don't be a fool. You honestly believe that she would still defend this man after what he did to her? She's forced now to sleep by day, because she fears that if the Weaver comes to her again he'll kill her. And because her child needs to be nursed and cared for, she's forced to have the baby sleep during the day as well. She wants us to find him. She wants him dead. And if a minister of Eibithar's king is too blinded by suspicion to see that then I fear for the realm."

"How dare you speak to me so! You, a Revel gleanera""

"Stop it," the archminister said, her voice flat, as if she were too tired to grow angry with them. "Both of you." She cast a reproachful look at Grinsa before facing the high minister. "I don't believe she's lying about this, Dyre. Grinsa's right. She's frightened. If she knew anything that could help us defeat the Weaver, she'd gladly tell us so."

The high minister didn't look convinced, but he nodded, conceding the point.

Keziah turned to Xivled. "Minister, it's because of you that we're here. Perhaps you'd like to lead our discussion."

"It was your idea to meet separately from our lords?" Fotir asked.

"Actually it was Lord Shanstead's idea."

Dyre sat forward, grinning darkly. "Doesn't he trust you, cousin?"

"Like so many of us today, High Minister, my lord isn't certain whom he can trust. Recent events in Thorald have left him . . . troubled. He thought it best not to risk giving any more information to the conspiracy than was necessary." He faced Keziah again. "As to leading our discussion, Archminister, I'd first like to know all that you can tell us about this woman who sits in your prison tower and what you've learned from her of the conspiracy."

Keziah nodded, taking a long breath. Then she began to speak, and for some time, the other ministers merely listened as she told them of Cresenne's role in the killing of Lady Brienne, and her description of the Qirsi movement, its network of couriers for delivering gold, and the Weaver who led it. Long after she finished, the Qirsi continued to sit in silence, as if trying to absorb all she had said.

"Forgive me for asking this," Evetta said at last, her eyes on Grinsa, "but you believe all that she's told you? Don't you think it's possible that she's making up some of these details in the hope that it will give the king reason to keep her alive?"

"I do believe her," Grinsa said. "Even had I not before the attack on her, I would now. The Weaver wants her dead, which tells me that he fears her, that he doesn't want her telling us more than she already has."

Evetta nodded, seeming satisfied with his reply.

Xivled sat back, pressing his fingertips together. "When my Thorald first minister died, she had over two hundred qinde hidden in her chamber. Because of this, Lord Shanstead and I came to the conclusion that if we can find the source of the Qirsi gold we'll be able to find the people who lead the movement. What you've told us of the couriers only serves to make me that much more certain of this."

"I've thought much the same thing," the archminister said.

Wenda ja Baul, another of Kearney's high ministers, looked from one of them to the other "How would we do that?"

"By joining the conspiracy ourselves," Xivled said. He and Fotir shared a brief look. They had spoken of this before, during Qirsar's turn, when Fotir and his duke journeyed to Thorald to speak with Tobbar and Marston. They had agreed then that if one of them could join the movement, it would allow them to learn a great deal about its leaders and its weaknesses. Xivled had raised this possibility with the thane only to have Marston reject the idea as too dangerous.

Evetta shook her head. "You can't be serious."

"It makes a good deal of sense to me," Grinsa said. "There are risks, to be sure, but think of how much we could learn."

"There isn't a lord in the Forelands who would allow such a thing."

"Sometimes," the archminister said, staring at her hands, "we have to defy our lords in order to do what's best for them."

"Meaning what?" Evetta demanded. "You actually think this is a good idea?"

"I believe it's worth considering."

But Fotir thought the archminister meant even more than that. It occurred to him in that moment that she had already made up her mind to try this, that perhaps she had already succeeded in contacting the movement. His first response to the notion was to wonder how she could have been so foolish. Had it been Xivled, he wouldn't have felt so; Xivled, if he failed, brought danger only to the court of Shanstead. If Keziah failed, she endangered the royal court of Eibithar. Still, he could not help but be impressed as well by her bravery. She was small and slight, with a face so youthful that he found it hard to imagine her in the court of a king, much less as archminister. And yet, it seemed possible that she had taken it upon herself to challenge a Weaver.

Evetta looked imploringly at the other ministers. "Please tell me that I'm not the only one who believes this to be sheer folly."

"Our lords have chosen to gather apart from us," Fotir found himself saying. "We may take this to mean that they don't trust us, that they only wish to keep us occupied as they speak of fighting the conspiracy. Or we may take it to mean that they expect us to devise our own strategy for defeating the Weaver and his movement. I choose to believe the latter, and I think this as promising an approach as any."

"Do you believe Javan would approve of such a plan?"

"Perhaps not," Fotir said. "But as the archminister says, the time may have come when we must act on behalf of our lords without their approval."

He glanced at the archminister, only to find that she was already staring at him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"One need only look at Cresenne to know how steep the price of failure will be," Grinsa said.

"Does that mean you think it a bad idea?" Keziah asked.

"Not at all. Just perilous."

Keziah regarded him another moment before eyeing the others. "What of the rest of you?"

"I agree with the first minister," Wenda said, nodding toward Evetta. "I don't think it's worth the risk."

Dyre shook his head. "Nor do I."

Two of the king's underministers, who had said nothing up until now, voiced their opposition as well.

"It seems we're outnumbered," the archminister said with a small shrug. "I feel certain that before this conflict is over, we'll have to take risks that seem unfathomable today, but for now we'll honor the wishes of those who argue for prudence."

Once more Fotir had the sense that there was more to what she was saying than she let on. Despite her words, the archminister seemed relieved to be in the minority, which made sense only if she were concealing something. Perhaps she was a traitor after all. But Fotir didn't think so.

Dyre looked quite pleased, but Xivled continued to gaze at Keziah, as if he, too, were trying to gauge what lay behind her words.

"Isn't it possible, Archminister," he asked, "that as more nobles arrive in the royal city, and with them more ministers, a similar discussion might yield a different judgment?"

"Would that it were, Minister," she said. "But the king doesn't expect many more nobles to answer his summons. Kentigern won't come, and neither, it seems, will Galdasten. And with both of them refusing to make the journey, Eardley, Sussyn, and Domnall have declined as well. Rennach has made no reply at all. We expect the dukes of Labruinn and Heneagh to arrive in the next few days, but even if both first ministers support our position, that leaves us with only a split vote." She looked at the gleaner. "Forgive me, Grinsa. But in deciding matters of the court, I can't allow you to have a formal voice."

He inclined his head. "Of course, Archminister. I understand."

"But with a split votea""

"No, Minister. I don't think it wise to take such a momentous step with the ministers so deeply divided. As I say, in time, I believe we'll have little choice but to reconsider this question. But for now we'll have to find another way to strike at the conspiracy."

Shanstead's minister continued to stare at her, tight-lipped and silent. And though Fotir couldn't be certain, he could only assume from the man's expression that Xivled thought the archminister a renegade.

"I'm not certain it's our place to strike at the conspiracy at all," Dyre said. "We serve the courts, and when our lords are ready to fight the traitors in earnest they will. My objection to what the minister proposed," he went on, gesturing toward Xivled, "had little to do with it being dangerous, though surely it is that. Rather, I opposed it because the king would oppose it, as would the dukes, I imagine."

"So we're to do nothing, then?" Evetta asked. "Even I don't believe that."

"I'm not suggesting that we do nothing. But we can only do so much. We can remain loyal to our dukes and vigilant in looking for those who might betray them. We can recommend courses of action that the nobles might not consider, but then it becomes their choice as to whether to follow our advice or ignore it."

"You've a narrow view of a minister's role, cousin," Fotir said.

"As is appropriate. Perhaps if the dukes of Thorald and Kentigern had kept their ministers on a tighter rein, the realm wouldn't have suffered as it has over the past half year."

Fotir saw Xivled bristle, but before the younger man could respond, the archminister stood, shaking her head.

"No," she said. "We're not going to do this. We're not going to blame anyone for the actions of a few traitors and a Weaver we don't even know. This conspiracy reaches across all the realms of the Forelands. It's been claiming lives in the courts for far longer than any of us realized until recently. Either all of us are to blame for its success thus far, or none of us are. We can disagree as to what actions to take, but I will not allow this discussion to descend into a fight over which houses have failed the realm."

She paused, staring at each of the Qirsi in turn, as if daring them to argue with her. "Now, given that we've decided not follow the minister's suggestion, at least for now, what other options can we offer the king and his dukes?"

For a long time, no one spoke, and when finally the discussion did resume, the ministers could think of few suggestions to pass on to the nobles. When the midday bells rang in the city, Keziah reluctantly ended their discussion.

The king's underministers left the hall immediately, speaking quietly among themselves. The others remained for a few moments until Grinsa stood and excused himself, explaining that he wished to return to Cresenne's chamber in the prison tower. Fotir stood as well and the two men walked from the hall together.

"I had hoped our discussion would yield more than it did," the minister said, as they descended the tower stairs to the inner ward.

Grinsa gave a wan smile. "I'm sure all of us did. But though I'm disappointed, I can't say that I'm surprised."

"You think we should have allowed Xivled to join the movement?"

The gleaner glanced at him, but didn't answer.

"I actually had the sense listening to the archminister speak that she had already considered doing so herself. I even wonder if she's done more than just consider it."