Kaavl Conspiracy (35 page)

“It’s necessary,” whispered a second voice. “I warned you before, in the letter, remember? Don’t worry. I will take care of it.”

“As you took care of the others who were in your way?
Without
my authorization.”

“Methusal must
go.
” The words were a sibilant hiss.

Methusal drew in a sharp breath. She must
go?
She concentrated harder, trying to pinpoint the location of the voices. They appeared to come from about thirty lengths northwest. Maybe from the Chief’s tent.

“No.” A flat, cold order. “You will leave Methusal to me.”

“You are a
fool!
”

“She is a mere girl.” Contempt sliced through that icy tone. “It will be an easy matter to make sure she keeps her place.”

“She is not easily intimidated,” insisted the whisperer. The tone was low pitched. He must be a man. “Better to kill her now.”

Methusal gasped softly. Pieces of the conversation flew together in her brain.
As you took care of the others who were in your way…You want to bring the count to three…Better to kill her now.
Finally, she understood.

Mentàll was talking to Renn and Liem’s killer. The Dehrien must be the thieving murderer’s ally. And the killer wanted
her
dead, too. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or uneasy that the Dehrien Chief wouldn’t allow it. For what purpose he wanted to keep her alive, she couldn’t imagine. Unless he truly thought he could use fear to manipulate her into keeping her place. A likely possibility, and in keeping with the Chief’s arrogant personality. And if fear didn’t work, she had no doubt he could take that ultimate step. Something about that cold man told her he could kill brutally and emotionlessly, should the situation require it. She shuddered at the thought.

If only the killer would quit whispering, so she could identify him. Was he a Rolbani who had come to Dehre with the kaavl team? Or had he traveled to Dehre tonight on his own?

“You will leave her in my hand.” A nasty note underscored Dehrien Chief's tone, “Do you understand?”

“She will destroy our plans.”

“
Do you
understand?”

A squeak escaped, and then a small scuffling sound. “All right,” rasped the other man. “But you had better not let her destroy my plans… Your plans, I mean. Believe me, soon you will want her dead, too.”

A tent flapped.

“Bloodthirsty
scienth,
” the Dehrien Chief muttered contemptuously.

Nearly silent footsteps glided east across the compound. Methusal strained her ears, struggling to hear where they ended.

The faintest sound of a tent flapping came from far across Dehre. Frustratingly, she had no idea where the killer had gone—just the general direction. She lay very still, listening hard. But she heard nothing else.

Fourthday

Victory is near.
Rolban is hungry to embrace her own destruction. They still suspect nothing, which is laughable. Their weaknesses are plain, and have been simple to exploit. Soon Rolban will trust neither Dehre nor Tarst. Suspicion festers, and boils hotter every day. Even if our pawn’s takeover fails, thanks to me, new distrust has been sown, bitter and deep. I am confident the ore is ours to pluck, for war between the communities is imminent. Soon Rolban will stand alone.

* * * * *

The next morning Methusal slid onto the dining bench beside Behran, pack strapped to her back for the journey ahead. She yawned sleepily. She hadn’t slept well at all.

The Dehrien Chief’s conversations played over and over through her mind. It appeared that her fate was in the Dehrien Chief’s hands—not the killer’s. That didn’t make her feel any better, but at least now she could put a face to her enemy.

However, she still did not know who had killed Renn and Liem. Or who might next be in danger from the bloodthirsty man.

Was the killer on the Rolbani kaavl team? Both Verdnt and Kitran had exited from the cabin next door this morning. Both accounted for. And Behran too, of course. However,
just because the killer’s footsteps had traveled far across Dehre
after visiting Mentàll last night, it didn’t rule out the possibility that either Kitran or Verdnt was the killer. The man could have gone across town to visit a woman, and then returned later in the night, while Methusal slept.

While in her heart Methusal didn’t want to consider the possibility too closely, she must face the facts: both Kitran and Verdnt were immigrants, had access to the ore, and were tall with dark hair. But there were a number of other Rolbani men who met those criteria, too. It was possible the murderer had left Rolban for a secret meeting with the Dehrien Chief yesterday. But if another Rolbani had come to Dehre, she didn’t see him now.

Her mind again returned to the uncomfortable idea that Verdnt or Kitran might be the murderer. While she didn’t like Verdnt as well as Kitran, Kitran had been to Dehre often recently. In addition, in the past he’d been a messenger to both Dehre and Tarst. He had many contacts, including other runners, in both places.

On the other hand, Verdnt was from Dehre. He’d left seven years ago, before Mentàll had come to power. They must have trained in kaavl together, though. Still, Verdnt was trying to become Chief of Rolban. Why jeopardize his chances by going on a thieving and killing spree?

She could find no motive for Kitran, either. And she couldn’t imagine either of her instructors killing Renn and Liem in cold blood.

None of it made any sense.

Methusal longed to tell Behran about the conversations she’d overheard last night. But then she’d have to reveal her secret hearing ability, and she didn’t want to do that just yet, even though the conversation between the Dehrien Chief and the killer scared her. Someone wanted her dead.

She cast a glance down the table. No one paid the least bit of attention to her.

Breakfast did little to settle her nerves, either.

“Porridge!” Aali wrinkled her nose at the goop streaming from her spoon.

“Odd,” Behran said with a frown. “They had a small grain crop. I thought it would be gone by now.”

“So where did they get this?” She drew a quick breath. “What if it’s our stolen seed grain?”

One eyebrow lifted. He glanced at his bowl.

“Of course!” Aali cried out.

She was right. Of course it was Rolban’s stolen grain. The killer and Mentàll were allies, as she’d learned last night. Probably the grain theft was only one fruit of their unknown alliance.

“But how did it get here?” Behran asked.

Thinking out loud, Methusal said, “Remember, the thief carries his stolen goods to the plateau and tosses them into the ravine. Maybe he rolls them down the incline, so they
aren’t damaged. Pots went to Tarst. The grain came to Dehre.”

“Right,” Behran agreed. “But why would the thief send stolen goods to two communities? He’d need at least two accomplices. It sounds pretty complicated.”

“Unless the killer sometimes carries them himself.”

“Maybe he’s trading for precious stones. Or gold or silver,” Aali suggested.

Was this about greed? Although why someone would stock up on gold or jewels, Methusal couldn’t imagine. Few people used gold. The communities provided everything people needed, for free. It would look suspicious if someone left town and bought expensive items from other communities, and then brought them home.

Behran said, “And think about this. How would the thief’s accomplices get all of the stolen stuff into Dehre and Tarst? Someone would notice a person carrying in suspicious, bulging packs.”

“Not if they were messengers.”

“You think the accomplices are messengers?”

“Or maybe the thief is a messenger, too.” This new thought struck Methusal. “Dehriens aren’t afraid of wild beasts. A Dehrien messenger probably wouldn’t be afraid to take the grain from the ravine in the dark.”

“But who?”

And that was the question. A man who was tall and dark. Timaeus? Kitran used to be a messenger, too. He’d made a lot of visits to Dehre lately to work on the Alliance. So had Verdnt, for that matter. Considering last night’s strange conversation between Mentàll and Kitran, she wasn’t sure what to think about her enigmatic kaavl instructor any longer.

Behran said. “Ludst is a Dehrien messenger, and he won the Quatr-level. I’ll bet he could sneak out to the ravine and carry the grain home without being seen.”

Methusal nodded. “Whoever’s involved has to be good at kaavl. To escape being caught all this time, kaavl has to be the key.”

Behran nodded, and Methusal sent an apprehensive glance toward the Dehrien Chief’s white, rippling tent. A Primary level kaavl player could easily put together such a tricky, devious plan. She didn’t trust Mentàll one handbreadth. And the killer in Rolban…it sounded like he had taken some matters into his own hands. Was his agenda different than Mentàll’s?

What
were
the two men’s plans? Why steal grain or pelts or ore pots? Well, she could see why the grain was stolen, because the Dehriens were starving. But the rest? It made no sense at all.

Hendra slid onto the bench across from them, so the conversation ended. Methusal still wasn’t sure how far she could trust the Dehrien girl. While her instincts said she was trustworthy, they also said she was hiding something. Time would tell.

“Morning, Hendra,” Behran said with a grin. “Are you coming to Tarst today?”

The blond-haired girl smiled shyly. “Yes. In our games, I finished third, so I get to go.”

“Great!”

Hendra glanced toward her cousin’s tent. “We’ll leave soon,” she said softly. “Are you ready?”

Behran lifted his pack in answer. “Is Mentàll married now?”

Methusal followed his gaze to the Chief’s tent. Mentàll stood outside with a pack slung over one shoulder. A slim woman with red hair spoke to him. Methusal had never seen anyone with red hair before. It gleamed copper in the sun. The woman rested her hand on the Dehrien’s broad shoulder, and spoke close to his ear. Mentàll shook his head, and twitched his shoulder free. The woman pouted and slunk away.

“No,” Hendra said. “He has women companions—but never the same one, and never for long. She was his latest, but he wants nothing to do with her now.”

The woman should count her blessings, Methusal thought.

“We’re ready to go.” Kitran spoke from behind Methusal. “Verdnt’s feeling under the weather today, so he’s volunteered to take you home, Aalicaa. He’ll miss the games.”

“No!” she wailed.

“Yes. He has a fever, and can’t compete. And you’re too young to make the trip over the mountains.”

“I am not!” But Kitran could not be budged. Aali went into a funk and fell stonily silent, glaring at, but not touching her food until it was time to go.

Verdnt and Aalicaa would travel with the kaavl teams until midday, and then head south for Rolban when they neared the Rolban Mountains. Rolban was located midway between Dehre and Tarst, with Tarst located in a mountain valley to the northeast of Rolban. The whole trip would take seven hours of steady walking, but the last three hours of the trip would be especially tiring. They’d be hiking over rocky, mountainous hillsides.

Behind Methusal and the Rolbani team straggled behind the Dehriens. Ahead, Kitran talked to Mentàll. Darkly, she wondered what they were talking about now.

A quick listen revealed they were talking about the upcoming Games in Tarst.

Last night’s conversation haunted her. She longed to talk to someone about it, but if she did, she’d have to reveal her secret—and she didn’t want to do that yet. Not with new games ahead. But after…yes, definitely after.

She still didn’t know how she had heard Kitran and Mentàll’s voices last night. They’d woken her up, for goodness sake. How had that happened? In the past, she’d always needed to concentrate hard in order to hear far off conversations. Last night had been so easy—so effortless—so
unconscious
.

She plodded on, trying to understand what had happened. Maybe that whack to her head had done something. It didn’t seem likely. So far, all it had inspired was a dull, throbbing headache. More likely it was all the kaavl she had been practicing recently. Maybe kaavl was simply becoming a part of her. Whatever the case, it had happened. Would it happen again?

“You’re so quiet when you walk, Methusal,” Retra’s admiring comment broke into her thoughts. “How do you do that?”

Methusal looked where she was stepping—one toe pressed down an inch beyond a brittle twig. Her other foot carried forward, avoiding a stray, dry leaf. What was happening here? Yesterday she’d had to work hard to avoid the noisy ground cover. Another example of her kaavl becoming automatic? Was this what it was like for Kitran?

Bemused, she shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Methusal paid more attention to what she was seeing,
hearing and experiencing. But nothing else unusual happened
. Kitran cut back to join his group.

“Are you practicing?” His tone was stern. “I want to see a better showing in Tarst than in Dehre.”

“Just so long as
they
play fair,” Lina muttered.

Kitran’s eyes narrowed. “The rules will be made clear before the games begin.”

About an hour into the hike they all stopped for a moment to say farewell to Verdnt and Aali, who would continue heading directly east to Rolban, while everyone else would head north.

Methusal approached her cousin, who looked very unhappy. “It’ll be okay, Aali.”

“No. It won’t.” Her lips trembled.

“Don’t worry. Petr might be mad, but he’ll get over it soon. The Dehrien delegation will arrive soon. That’ll distract him.”

“It’s not fair,” Aali mumbled unhappily.

Methusal hated to say it. “Maybe if you tried harder to obey him, he’d let you do more things you want to do. Like kaavl. Picking fights and running away is not going to help you.”

“Right.” Bitterly. “Like how Deccia always does what he says, but can’t see Timaeus.”

“She will. Petr will see reason.” Eventually.

“I hate him! He doesn’t care about me at all!” The younger girl burst into tears and ran after Verdnt. The two trekked east to Rolban. They were a sad looking pair, with Aali crying stormily and Verdnt looking white and fatigued.

Methusal felt sorry for Aali, but for the second day in a row had to agree with Deccia’s assessment. Aalicaa must learn discipline. If she wanted to advance in kaavl, she must learn to control herself. Petr’s stubborn unreasonableness only made it harder.

The remainder of the morning flew by. It was as silent as the trip to Dehre had been yesterday. Methusal practiced fervently, determined to win in Tarst. It didn’t sit well that she had been beaten by the arrogant Dehriens, or by Behran, either. She’d still dearly love to beat him at the Tri-level, although truthfully she was glad he’d beat the Dehriens yesterday.

At midday they halted for lunch at a cluster of boulders just south of the Tarst Mountains.

Methusal was starving, and was glad for the rations she’d brought from home. The water, too. The noonday sun beat into her dark hair and her brown leather clothing.

Hendra sat by herself on a boulder a short distance away, and after a little while Behran moved to join her. The blond girl flushed a little, but smiled when Behran spoke to her. Discomfort twisted through Methusal as she watched them. They looked perfect together. The different shades of their blond hair complemented each other, and it was clear from their body language that they were still good friends from days long past.

* * * * *

Hendra felt happy, but also a little uncomfortable that Behran had chosen to sit with her. For one, she’d noticed Methusal casting a disturbed glance at the two of them, and for another, Hendra
felt uneasy to have any man sit so close beside her. Discretely,
she added a handbreadth of space between them when she retrieved a meat strip from her pack.

“Dehre is worse than I had expected,” Behran said in a low voice, chewing on a grain disc.

“It’s the drought. And the aptes and wild beasts.” Hendra decided to share her biggest concern. “I’m afraid for the orphans. Our well water is low. Now the river is diverted, so it’s closer to Dehre. That should help. But it takes a long time to cart buckets of water back home. We don’t get enough to really be able to clean. The children have been sick. I wish the water was closer.”

Behran lifted his pack. His arms flexed as he tied it up, and his elbow brushed hers. A cold waterfall of alarm rushed through her, and she froze. Coldness prickled through her nerve endings and sped toward her mind.
No.
Not now. Not with Behran!