In which Keevan reveals part of what he knows about the Dal’Imuri spy…
Hadi and Ian exchanged a look, and Ian turned back to Donal. “Is he injured?”
“Stabbed, but not fatally,” Donal said. “The sayas are treating him, and Aqio is standing guard.” They turned and hurried toward the exam room.
Aqio stood just outside the open door of the exam room where the sayas worked on the spy’s stab wound. Hadi entered the room to help the sayas as Aqio turned to Donal and Ian. “What happened?” Ian asked.
“I am still trying to figure that out,” Aqio said. “Two men brought the injured spy to the front gates and just dropped him there. The sayas are not unaccustomed to treating people under such circumstances, so of course they brought him in and began ministering to him. As soon as I saw his face, I recognized him as the man we were warned about. Unfortunately, he’s lost a lot of blood and isn’t capable of speaking yet.” He turned toward the room again and nodded toward Keevan. “He recognized the man, too.”
“How do you know?” Ian asked.
“His face betrayed him when the sayas brought the man into the room.” Aqio glanced at Ian again. “Did you write up the assurances our young Eiryan scoundrel wants?”
Ian nodded and patted a pocket. “Perhaps we should save them and see what he knows first?”
Aqio nodded. “I appreciate your help, your highness.”
“The Eiryan government has no wish to damage relations with the Tal’Amuni government. I am happy to be of assistance.”
Hadi had joined the sayas to examine the injured man, and he looked up from the table and motioned the others toward him. “He has lost a lot of blood, but I think he can survive this,” Hadi said. He pointed at the wound in the man’s side. “The wound is long, but shallow. By some miracle, it missed everything vital.”
Ian leaned in to look more closely at the man’s features. He had been dressed entirely in black, just as Suchart had been, but his clothes had been cut away from his face to allow him to breathe more easily. His tunic was cut completely off his body, and Ian could make out a small tattoo on the man’s upper arm. He gestured to Aqio. “What’s that mark?”
“It identifies him as a member of his emperor’s elite guard,” Aqio said.
“It seems odd to tattoo themselves with something others might easily see.”
Aqio shrugged. “They cover their arms. Besides, no one would know the significance here in Tal’Amun. They might even mistake him for a member of my own city guard.”
“What do you know about this man?” Donal asked.
Aqio folded his arms. “His name is Amit, or at least we believe it is. He’s the son of one of the Dal’Imuri emperor’s sisters. We are reasonably certain that this man is responsible for stealing the item in question from the palace.”
“That’s something that’s been bothering me,” Ian said. “Why was the stone here, in Xi’jan?”
“You will recall that when we met, I told you I had other intelligence about the spy?” Aqio said. Ian nodded. “The emperor’s men have been tracking him from the capitol. He has been running for some time, trying to get back to Dal’Imur and barely evading us repeatedly.” He paused. “Why he didn’t just return to Dal’Imur through the mountains is a mystery.”
“He couldn’t, aye?”
Aqio, Donal, and Ian turned to Keevan. “You know something about this man?” Ian asked.
Keevan nodded. His eyes still bore a slightly glassy sheen from the pain medication, but in general, his coloring and posture was much healthier than when they’d captured him. He reclined halfway on a cot to one side of the room, his arm once again positioned properly and resting in a sling. “He was pursued from the moment he left the capitol. The eunuchs were tracking him with their spiders. If he tried to go through the mountains, the entire Tal’Aster sect would come down on his head.”
“Then why come into Xi’jan? The eunuchs have their spies everywhere here,” Aqio said.
“Last resort,” Keevan said. “He wanted to stow away on a ship before you closed the docks.”
Donal looked at Aqio. “Then this is why you told Robbie that we couldn’t leave? It wasn’t because of the body—it was because of the stone?”
“Yes,” Aqio said.
“When did you learn the stone was in the city?” Ian asked.
“The morning of the altercation on your ship,” Aqio said.
“Suchart would have known what you were looking for, wouldn’t he?” Ian asked. “Is that why he attacked the spy?”
“It’s possible,” Aqio said. “I tried to keep the knowledge of what had been stolen to only my captains, but Suchart could have overheard.” He returned his attention to Keevan. “But this still does not explain your involvement, or the involvement of the others in your crew.”
Keevan’s mouth tightened again. “I believe I asked for some assurances.”
Ian pulled the parchment from his pocket and offered it to Keevan. “You’ll note my signature and seal at the bottom,” he said. “This document bears the full weight and backing of the Mac Roy name.”
Keevan glanced at it. “You’ll have to tell me what it says. I can’t read.”
Ian lowered the sheet and nodded. “I suspected as much.” Ian motioned to the sayas. “Can any of you read Taurin?” he asked them.
One woman—an elderly woman with pale skin and blue eyes—raised her hand. “I was raised on Taura, your highness.”
Ian motioned her over and passed the paper to her. “I want you to read these to our prisoner here. I suspect he’ll trust you more than he would trust me.” He looked at Keevan. “All of this is contingent on your information helping us, aye?”
Keevan nodded. “Aye.”
“Good. The fair saya will read my proposal, and then we’ll talk about how you can get back into the good graces of the Eiryan government.”