Poison Study Part 26

She made a small noise of surprise when I stepped clear of the trees. Peering through the gloom, she studied the blood on my shirt. The wet material clung to my skin. When she saw I was unharmed, her sharp nose jerked her head around, searching for her goon.

"He's dead," I said.

The color drained from her face. "We can work this out." A pleading note entered her voice.

"No, we can't. If I let you walk away, you'll only return with more men. If I take you to the Commander, I'd have to answer for killing your thugs. I'm out of options." I stepped toward her, my body frozen with dread. The others I had killed in self-defense during the heat of battle; this would be difficult-this would be premeditated.

"Yelena, stop!" someone called from behind me. I spun. One of the Commander's soldiers stood with a sword in his hand. As he moved closer, I judged the distance between us.

He must have recognized my battle stance because he stopped and sheathed his sword. Pulling the wool cap off his head, he let his black curls spring free.

"I thought you had orders to stay at the castle," I said to Valek. "Won't you be court-martialed?"

"And I thought your killing days were over," he replied as he examined the p.r.o.ne form of Star's thug. His crushed windpipe had suffocated him. "Tell you what. If you don't tell, I won't. That way we can both avoid the noose. Deal?"

I jerked my head at Star. "What about her?"

"There's an arrest warrant out for her. Did you even consider taking her to the Commander?"

"No."

"Why not?" Valek didn't try to hide his disbelief. "Killing isn't the only solution to a problem. Or has that been your formula?"

"My formula! Excuse me, Mr. a.s.sa.s.sin, while I laugh as I remember my history lessons on how to deal with a tyrannical monarch by killing him and his family."

Valek flashed me a dangerous look.

I was on the edge. Changing tactics, I said, "My actions were based on what I thought you would do if you were ambushed."

He considered my words in silence for an uncomfortable length of time.

Star seemed horrified by our discussion. She glanced around as if planning her escape.

"You really don't know me at all," Valek said.

"Think about it, Valek, if I took her to the Commander and explained the details, what would happen to me?"

The sad knowledge in his face said it all. I would be arrested for killing Star's men, the food taster's job would pa.s.s on to the next prisoner awaiting execution and I would spend my last few days in a dank dungeon.

"Well, then, it was fortunate for both of you that I arrived," Valek said. He whistled a strange birdcall just as Star made her escape.

She dashed down the trail. I moved to follow, but Valek told me to wait. Two gray forms materialized from the dark forest on either side of the road. They grabbed Star. She yelped in surprise and anger.

"Take her back to the castle," Valek ordered. "I'll deal with her when I get back. Oh, and send a cleanup crew. I don't want anyone stumbling onto this mess."

They began to pull Star away.

"Wait," she said. "I have information. If you release me, I'll tell you who plotted to ruin the Sitian treaty."

"Don't worry." Valek's blue eyes held an icy glare. "You'll tell me." He was about to walk past her, when he paused. "However, if you want to reveal your patron now, then we can skip a painful interrogation later."

Star's nose twitched as she considered his offer. Even in this situation, she was still the shrewd businesswoman.

"Lying would only worsen your predicament," Valek warned.

"Kangom," she said through clenched teeth. "He wore a basic soldier's uniform with MDa8 colors."

"General Dinno," Valek said without surprise.

"Describe Kangom," I ordered, knowing that Kangom was another name for Adviser Mogkan, but unable to tell Valek how I had come by this information.

"Tall. Long black hair in a soldier's braid. An arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I almost kicked him out, but he showed me a pile of gold I couldn't refuse," Star said.

"Anything else?" Valek asked.

Star shook her head. Valek snapped his fingers. As the camouflaged men escorted Star back toward the castle, I said, "Could it be Mogkan?"

"Mogkan?" Valek looked at me as if I had sprouted antennae. "No. Brazell was far too happy about the delegation. Why would he jeopardize the treaty? That doesn't make sense. Dinno on the other hand was furious with the Commander. He probably sent one of his men to hire Star."

I tried to fathom the reason why Mogkan would endanger the treaty negotiations when trade with Sitia was to Brazell's benefit. Unable to deduce a logical answer, I wondered how I could convince Valek that Mogkan had hired Star.

I began to shiver. Blood soaked my uniform shirt and stained my hands. I wiped the blood on my ripped pants. Retracing my steps, I found my cloak, but before I could swing it over my shoulders, Valek said, "You better leave your clothes here. There would be quite a fuss if you showed up for dinner soaked with blood."

I retrieved my pack from behind the tree. Valek turned his back while I changed into a clean uniform. I wondered if he had any more sneaks in the woods as I wrapped my cloak around me.

We set out for the camp.

"By the way, nice work," Valek said as we pa.s.sed the second dead body. "I saw the fight. I wasn't close enough to help. You held your own. Who gave you the knife?"

"I bought it with Star's money." A stretch of the truth, but I wasn't about to get Janco into trouble.

Valek snorted. "Fitting."

When we arrived, Valek melted into a group of soldiers while I rushed to the Commander's tent to taste his dinner. The entire Star episode had taken only an hour and a half, but my battered body felt as if I'd been gone for days.

As I sat by the campfire that night, my muscles trembled in reaction to the fight. Grief for Rand surprised me as melancholy thoughts filled my mind. The flames of the fire wiggled accusing red fingers at me. What do you think you're doing? they asked. Three men are dead because of you. How are you going to help anyone? Pure conceit, the flames admonished. Go south. Let Valek worry about the Commander and what Brazell's up to, you silly girl. The fire pulsed, making shooing motions at me.

I pulled my gaze away, blinking into the darkness. Was it my imagination or was someone trying to influence me? Summoning the mental image of my protective brick wall cooled some of the doubts, but not all of them.

Rand's disappearance wasn't noticed until the next morning. Thinking he had run away, Major Granten sent out a small search party, while the others continued deeper into Brazell's district.

The rest of the journey was uneventful except for the disturbing fact that the closer we drew to Brazell's manor house, the blanker the look grew on the Commander's face. He had ceased to give orders or to take an interest in the events surrounding him. The intelligent, piercing glint that had made his gaze lethal faded with each step, leaving only a vacant, dull expression in its place.

In contrast to the Commander, I was beginning to feel rather warm. My hands left slick prints on my bow as we neared Brazell's. I scanned the woods for an ambush as dread hovered behind me like a pair of hands waiting to wrap around my neck. The ground felt soft and sucked at my boots so that each step required an extra effort. Big mistake, big mistake, coming to Brazell's, I thought as my mind whirled on the edge of panic. To calm myself I imagined my brick wall, and focused my thoughts on survival.

An hour away from Brazell's, the rich aroma of Criollo hung heavy in the air. As a precaution, I slipped into the forest off the main trail and stashed my backpack in the crook of a tree, hiding my bow nearby. Taking only my picks from the bag, I pulled my hair into a bun, using the thin metal tools to hold it in place.

At the outer buildings of Brazell's manor our pace slowed. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the soldiers. They had safely delivered the Commander. Now they could rest in the barracks until it was time to return home.

I experienced the opposite of the soldiers' ease despite my mental protection. I found it difficult to breathe as I followed the Commander and his advisers to Brazell's office. I heard the liquid slamming in my heart, and felt light-headed.

When we entered, Brazell rose from behind his desk, a large smile adorning his square face. Mogkan hovered behind Brazell's right shoulder. With my mental shield in place, I remained near the door, hoping to be inconspicuous. As Brazell recited a formal greeting, I surveyed his office. Lavish in its decoration, the room had a heavy, brooding feel. Black walnut wood framed hunting scenes, and crimson and purple velvet draped the windows. Brazell's oversize ebony desk seemed a barrier between his high-backed leather chair and the two overstuffed, velvet seats facing it.

"Gentlemen, you must be tired from your trip," Brazell said to the Commander's advisers as a tall woman entered the office. "My housekeeper will guide you to your rooms."

She motioned for them to follow her. As the advisers exited the room, I tried to slip out with them, but Mogkan grabbed my arm.

"Not yet," he said. "We have special plans for you."

Alarmed, I glanced at the Commander, sitting in one of the chairs. The abundant purple fabric of the cushion exaggerated his pale face and slight build. No expression touched his features; he stared into the distance. A puppet waiting for his master to pull the strings.

"Now what?" Brazell asked Mogkan.

"We put on a show for a few days. Take him to see the factory as planned." Mogkan gestured toward the Commander. "Keep his advisers happy. Once everyone's hooked, then we don't have to pretend."

"And her?" Satisfaction bent the edges of Brazell's mouth.

I kept the picture of the brick wall in my mind.

"Yelena," Mogkan said, "you've learned a new trick. Red brick, how mundane. But..."

I heard a faint sc.r.a.ping noise like stone grinding on stone.

"Weak spots. Here and here." Mogkan pointed a finger in the air. "And I do believe this brick is loose."

Mortar crumbled. Small holes appeared in my mental wall.

"When I have a moment, I'll smash your defenses into dust," Mogkan promised.

"Why waste your time?" Brazell asked, drawing his sword. "Dead. Now." He advanced with murderous intent blazing in his eyes. I flinched back a step.

"Stop," Mogkan ordered. "We need her to keep Valek in line."

"But we have the Commander," Brazell whined like a child.

"Too obvious. There are seven other Generals to consider. If we kill the Commander while he's here they would be suspicious. You'd never become his successor. Valek knows this, so any threat to the Commander won't work." Mogkan turned his calculating eyes on me. "But who cares about a food taster? No one except Valek. And if she dies here, the Generals will agree that it was justified."

Mogkan leaned over the Commander, whispering in his ear. The Commander opened his briefcase, withdrew a flask and handed it to Mogkan. My antidote.

"Starting now, you'll come to me for your medicine," Mogkan said, smiling.

Before I could react, someone knocked on the door. Two soldiers entered the office without waiting for permission.

"Your escorts are here, Yelena. They'll take good care of you." Mogkan turned to the guards. "She doesn't need a tour. Our infamous Yelena has come home."

29.

I SCANNED THE TWO MUSCULAR guards. Swords, short knives and manacles hung from their belts. They were well armed, and wore grim expressions of recognition. I was outmatched. I touched the familiar lump of the switchblade strapped to my thigh, but decided to wait until the odds were more in my favor.

The guards gestured for me to accompany them. I shot a final beseeching look at the Commander, but nothing so far had roused him from his oblivious stupor.

I felt a small surge of hope when the guards led me to a tiny, barren room in the guest wing instead of the underground cells in which Brazell housed his prisoners. Having spent a week in those dank, rat-infested chambers after I killed Reyad, I loathed the thought of ever going back.

After the door was locked behind me, I took comfort from removing the picks from my hair. The lock was a basic pin-and-tumbler type, which would be easy to open. Before springing it, I slipped a small pick with a mirror on the end under the door. With the mirror, I spied a pair of boots standing on either side. Those overachieving guards had stationed themselves outside my room.

I went to the window. The guest wing was on the second floor. My view included the main courtyard. I could jump to the ground if I was desperate, but for now I would wait.

The next day, I was permitted out of my room only to taste the Commander's meals. After breakfast, Mogkan waved a small vial of antidote in front of my face.

"If you want this, you must answer a question," he said.

I steadied my nerves. With a calm voice, I replied, "You're bluffing. If you wanted me dead, I wouldn't be standing here now."

"I a.s.sure you, it's only a temporary condition." Anger burned in his eyes. "I'm merely offering you a choice. Death by b.u.t.terfly's Dust is a long, ugly and excruciating experience, while, say, slitting your throat is quick-a moment of pain."

"What's the question?"

"Where's Valek?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. I hadn't seen Valek since the fight in the woods. Mogkan considered my answer. Taking advantage of his distracted state, I plucked the vial from his hand and drained it in a single gulp.

Mogkan's face reddened with fury. He seized my shoulders then shoved me toward the guards. "Take her back to her room," he ordered.

Once there, I wondered what mischief Valek was creating. I doubted he was sitting idle. Mogkan's questions on Valek's whereabouts confirmed my suspicions. Restless, I paced the small chamber, longing for a workout with Ari and Janco.

During my brief visits with the Commander over the next few days, I began to recognize that my presence was part of Mogkan's show. In order to keep the Commander's advisers from becoming suspicious, Brazell pretended the Commander was still giving orders. At one point, Brazell leaned close to the Commander as if they were having a private conversation, then proclaimed that, per Commander Ambrose's request, a factory tour would be scheduled for the next day.

I was allowed to join the group going to the plant. This surprised me almost as much as the fact that none of the Commander's advisers made a protest or comment about Brazell manufacturing Criollo instead of the livestock feed he had reported on his permit. They munched on bars of Criollo, content to nod and agree with Brazell that the factory was a marvelous invention.

As we walked through the building, sweltering heat pulsed from the gigantic roasters that were continuously fed with Sitian beans. Workers, streaked with sweat and black dust, shoveled coal into the ma.s.sive fires under the ovens. Once roasted, the beans were conveyored to a large area where other workers cracked their sh.e.l.ls with mallets, extracting a dark brown nib. Steel rollers crushed the nibs into a paste. The paste was spooned into a five-foot-wide metal container to which sugar, milk and b.u.t.ter were added. Using steel pitchforks, workers stirred these ingredients until the mixture became a smooth, thick liquid, which was then poured into square and rectangular-shaped molds.

A veritable shop of delightful smells and flavors, the place was, however, a joyless environment. The dour employees, uniforms soiled with Criollo and sweat, grunted and strained under the physical exertion. During the tour, I searched the various work areas for poisonous or addictive ingredients that might be slipped into the mix but found none.

When the group returned to Brazell's manor house, I watched the animated expressions on the advisers' faces leak away, leaving behind the same blank look that had taken over the Commander's face. Which meant that there must be a link between eating Criollo and succ.u.mbing to Mogkan's magic. Mogkan's show would end as soon as he had gained control of the advisers' minds, and when that happened my accommodations would change for the worse.

That night, under cover of darkness, I dropped my cloak out the window of my room and banged on the door, calling to the guards.

When the door opened, I declared, "I need a bath." Without waiting for a response, I strode with purpose down the hallway. The guards followed.

At the baths, one guard stopped me in the hallway while his companion looked around inside. Only when he was sure I would be alone did he nod and step back.