Kaavl Conspiracy, page 29
She ran down the hill and took off, running easily, breathing lightly. The breeze felt fresh and cool. Flying beasts circled and cawed overhead. Several whips slithered several lengths to the southeast. The scent of tagma leaves gave way to another smell…of blood. Of death.
Methusal slowed down. The smell was strong. If it was a small animal, she should almost be upon it. But she saw nothing. It must be a larger animal then, and further away. If it was a wild beast, other animals might be feasting on its remains right now. She should be careful.
She listened carefully. Snarling slurps reached her ears. Wolmites; ahead twenty lengths.
Heart pounding, she slowed down still more. Should she head back? Wolmites usually didn’t attack humans, but if their food was threatened…
Something made Methusal continue on. She moved silently, staying downwind of the beasts.
She saw the wolmites, two of them, nuzzling something that lay sprawled against a prickly tagma bush. It was large, but not big enough to be a full grown wild beast. An adolescent, then. Methusal scanned for the wild beast’s claws, trying to determine the dead beast’s age. But she saw no claws. Instead she saw a bloody moccasin, attached to a human leg.
She screamed.
* * * * *
“Methusal!”
She opened her eyes. Kitran stood over her. Timaeus and another runner also stared down at her. She lay on the ground.
She’d fallen. She had bumped her head, too…
The memory came back. She moaned and covered her eyes. Welling tears slid down her cheeks. “Did you see?” she whispered.
“We saw,” Kitran said grimly. He gripped her arm and pulled her into a sitting position.
Methusal couldn’t help it—her eyes went back to the mangled human form. The wolmites were gone. A whip slithered closer, but Timaeus pivoted and hurled his hunting knife. The whip twitched and lay still. He swiftly retrieved the knife.
Wiping the bloody knife on a leaf, Timaeus pointed to the other runner. “That’s Dastn.”
The dark-haired runner nodded to her. After the cursory greeting, he pulled a bow and arrow from the quiver on his back, and held it at the ready, waiting for another animal to slink closer to the corpse. The Tarst runner looked to be the same age and height as Timaeus, but he was more thickly muscled in the chest and arms.
Methusal’s gaze slid again to the bloody mess that had been a man. Kitran knelt by him, examining something at his neck. Bile rose in her throat. She staggered to her feet and vomited in a nearby bush.
“It’s Liem,” Kitran said.
Liem!
“How do you know?” she choked out.
He fingered a bloodied, looped strand. “This is his family’s marriage necklace. He’s worn it since his wife died.”
Methusal crossed her arms and hugged herself. She could not look at the dead man—Liem—again. Tears ran in a rivers down her cheeks. “Mama was right,” she whispered. Something awful had happened. Liem was dead. Murdered. Who would do such an awful thing?
“His wrists are tied to the bush.” Timaeus said.
“I know.” Kitran sounded grim.
Methusal gasped. “You mean…someone tied him there, and…and let the wild beasts…eat him?” A horrible, gasping wail left her throat. She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Look, Methusal.”
“No. I can’t!” Looking was the last thing she wanted to do.
“He’s tied up with kaavl strips. The ends are wrapped in blue. Just like yours.”
“What?” She couldn’t help but look where Kitran was pointing.
Sure enough, blood and skeletal wrist bones were tied to the bush by blue-banded kaavl strips. Her kaavl strips.
“They’re not mine!” she cried. “I would never… I could never…”
“I know. Timaeus, get Petr and Erl. Fast,” Kitran said. “Leave your knife.”
“Yes, sir!” Timaeus and Dastn took off for Rolban at a dead sprint.
Methusal sank down on the ground again, facing away from Liem. She could not believe this had happened. Liem was dead. And the killer had framed her again.
* * * * *
Erl and Petr soon arrived, along with two grave diggers. Timaeus came with them, but Dastn had had to continue on his run in order to reach Dehre before nightfall.
In the meantime, Kitran had searched the perimeter for footprints, but he said he’d found it hard to distinguish the killer’s footprints from their own, as they’d all come from the same direction.
Methusal stood, arms crossed, shivering in the late afternoon’s gentle breeze. She felt numb inside. “I didn’t do it.”
“We know, Thusa. Here.” Her father pressed a cloth into her hand. She hadn’t realized she was still crying.
“I didn’t!” She pressed the cloth against her mouth, and tried to suppress her throat aching sobs. Tears streamed from her eyes.
“I know.” Petr’s quiet rumble surprised and comforted her. “I know you didn’t do it.”
She turned swollen eyes to him. “How do you know?” Her voice trembled. “Those kaavl strips might be mine. Every single clue points right at me!”
Gently, her father said, “We know because you’re not that kind of a person, Thusa.”
More matter-of-factly, Petr said, “And Liem would not have allowed you to lure him out here. He’d have been on his guard with you. He was a tough fighter, too. You could never have overpowered him. And if someone dragged or carried him out here—you couldn’t have done that, either. The evidence is a little too convenient. Combined with the other clues you’ve found, I’m convinced you’re innocent.”
Thank goodness for that.
“But unless I miss my guess,” Petr continued, “you’re in danger. Liem was investigating, and now he’s dead.”
“Renn investigated,” Methusal whispered. “He’s dead.”
“And you’re investigating. I can lock you up, if you’d like,” her uncle offered. “If he thinks you’re out of the way, you might be safe.”
“No!” She turned to her father. “I don’t want to be alone in that jail cell. Anything could happen to me there.”
“I agree,” Erl said. “The safest thing may be to get you out of Rolban. Thank goodness the IC Games are tomorrow. You should be safer in Dehre.”
She hoped. Methusal couldn’t look at Liem again. “What will happen to him?”
“We’ll bury him tonight,” Petr said. Then, to the grave diggers, “Wrap him up. We’ll have his service before supper.”
* * * * *
Liem’s service was short and sweet. Hanuh wept on Erl’s shoulder. Methusal had never known it before, but Liem had been her mother’s first love, when she’d been a teenager. While they had gone their separate ways as adults, she still cared for him very much. Maybe that was why she’d felt the premonition of his death so strongly last night
Liem’s compartment was also searched. There were signs of a struggle, and a pool of blood found on the floor. It appeared that he had been killed there, and carried onto the plains last night. While the front gates were locked all night long, there was a steep path down from the crop plateau to the plains. It was located near the waterfall. The killer must have carried Liem’s body out that way. At least Liem had been dead before the wild beasts ate him. A huge mercy. Still, someone had brutally murdered him.
Petr announced at the service that he would require every man with access to the ore mines to come in for questioning. He’d speak to Kitran and Verdnt tonight, since they would leave tomorrow for the IC Games.
At last, her uncle was clearly taking steps to find Renn and Liem’s killer. Methusal couldn’t help but wonder why it had taken so long. …Unless he’d been investigating all along, and she just hadn’t seen it.
A subdued group of people reentered Rolban for dinner. Fear was a noticeable undercurrent, as well.
Methusal was afraid she was next on the killer’s list.
Although she wasn’t very hungry, she joined her family at the table. The dining hall was quiet. Liem’s spot was noticeably empty. When Methusal spotted Sims sitting alone, she rose to her feet and went to him.
“Sit with us,” she urged. “Please,” she added with a small smile. No one should be alone tonight.
Sims offered a small smile in return and walked slowly with her to the Maahr table.
Erl stood as they approached, and shook Sims’ hand. “Sims. We’re honored you can join us. Please sit.”
Methusal had never had a chance to speak to her parents about asking Sims to join their family’s meals, but her father seemed pleased by the idea, all on his own.
With an answering smile Sims sat down, and Hanuh and Poli immediately engaged him in conversation. The old man began to relax and enjoy himself.
Behran arrived a few minutes later. Then, to Methusal’s surprised delight, Deccia and Aalicaa arrived, too. They wanted to eat dinner with Methusal tonight, since she’d leave tomorrow.
“Sorry I have to rush, though,” Deccia said. “Verdnt wants me to put in a few more hours of work.” A faint frown worried her brow, and the movements of her spoon were jerky.
“What’s wrong?”
Aali glanced at her big sister. Her bad temper, which had been simmering over the last few days, had mysteriously vanished. “Yes, Deccia, what is it? You’ve splashed my arm twice with your soup!”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry.” But her gentle smile looked pinched, and eyes troubled.
“Her heart is breaking for Timaeus,” Aali said, but not unkindly.
Deccia remained silent. Hurriedly, she finished her soup and rose to her feet. “I have to go. Good luck, Thusa. I know you’ll do great. Remember, we’re all pulling for you… And you too, Behran,” she added with a faint flush, perhaps afraid that she had slighted him somehow. He smiled quickly to dispel her embarrassment. “See you when you get back!” Then she was gone.
“Verdnt must be turning into a slave driver,” Methusal commented, untidily draining the last, surprisingly delicious drops of soup by tipping the bowl into her mouth. “I thought he was supposed to finish instructing her this morning.”
“He’s probably been distracted by preparing for the IC Games,” Behran said, ignoring her bad manners.
“Methusal!” Hanuh frowned. “Please don’t eat like that in Dehre or Tarst. They’ll think we’re uncivilized.”
With a sheepish smile, Methusal put down the bowl. She wiped her mouth with the blot of lynnte weed distributed to each table for such emergencies.
“So, do you two think you’re ready?” Erl asked with a faint twinkle in his eyes. Since Aali and the others had arrived, the mood at the table had lightened a little.
“I’m ready,” Behran stated. One of his brows shot up in an arrogant manner when he glanced at Methusal.
“So am I.” Calmly, she met his gaze.
“Good.” Erl’s mouth twitched. “Then let’s have a toast to Behran and Methusal. Sims, you start it off.”
“May you both bravely meet the challenges before you…”
“And put forth your best effort…”
“Remembering your code of ethics as Rolbanis…”
“Treating others with courtesy…”
“And above all…win!” This last impertinent bit was from Aalicaa, and they all laughed.
“One of us will win,” Behran agreed.
Methusal only rolled her eyes and smiled.
* * * * *
Honorable Presidente,
Liem is dead, but Methusal still roams free. I could not prevent it. Logic and justice are not words Rolbanis understand. Again and again, they prove they are weak and stupid. Methusal, however, is far more of a threat than I originally believed. Not only does her investigation endanger our plans, but her kaavl is extraordinary, according to Kitran. She is a true threat, should we go to war. She cannot be allowed to live. Our Zindedi messenger has been warned of all issues. He will monitor the situation from afar. Should something happen to me, he will send you a letter detailing Rolban’s last stand. However, I am not worried. Victory is certain.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DEHRE
Thirdday
HENDRA STEPPED OUTSIDE into the clear, crisp morning. Today the Rolbani team would arrive for the Kaavl Games. So would Behran—one of the few men in her life whom she’d granted a sliver of trust.
It had been five years since she’d last seen him. Lately she had been remembering how she’d been able to talk to him about almost anything. Would it be the same now?
Dared she tell him about her suspicions concerning Mentàll?
Again, worry conflicted with her lifelong respect and loyalty to her cousin. Had he ordered illegal swords made, or not? Was his secret plan a threat to Rolban? She didn’t want Rolbanis hurt. Especially not Behran. But if she confessed her worries to him, would she be betraying Mentàll?
Of course she would. Behran may have been born a Dehrien, but now he was a Rolbani.
So what should she do?
If she could get Mentàll to tell her the root of the problem, maybe then she could try to steer him back on the right path.
Uneasiness settled in her soul. The Prophet had asked how she’d stop Mentàll. Well, she’d wait, and she’d watch, and when the time came, she would do what she absolutely must.
* * * * *
ROLBAN
PALE FINGERS OF SUNLIGHT slid beneath the curtain to her room as Methusal silently moved about, collecting together essentials for the trip. Extra clothes, a comb, and a few other items were all folded neatly into her coverlet, which was in turn folded and threaded securely with leather straps. Those hooked through her arms so she could carry the coverlet like a pack.
She slipped the pack strap over her shoulder. Time to go.
Sunlight streamed into the main chamber of the Maahr’s compartment. Her mother paced the chamber with a cup of tea in her hands. Chup Chup sat on a chair, and his alert eyes followed Hanuh’s movements with interest. Probably wondering when she’d feed him.
“Morning.” Methusal gave the apte a quick pat on his soft, furry head.
Hanuh turned. A gentle smile touched her lips. “Thusa.” She crossed the room and swiftly pulled her daughter into a quick hug.
When Methusal stepped back, she saw the worry that her mother tried to hide. “What is it?” Unease gripped her. “Is more trouble coming?”
Hanuh shook her head. “I don’t want to burden you. I want you to enjoy your trip.”
“Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“I could be mistaken.”
Methusal remembered Liem. “I doubt it.” In fact, she’d never known her mother to be wrong. She waited patiently.
Hanuh placed her cup on the table and crossed to the balcony ledge. She gazed out at the silvery pink dawn. “It’s not over. The worst is yet to come.”
“For whom?”
“You. Rolban.” Her mother turned back. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re leaving. It’s dangerous here, Thusa. And…” she took a deep breath, “it’s dangerous where you’re going. Please be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
“I know your father hopes Petr will find the killer before you return home. So do I.”
“Me, too.” Methusal didn’t state the obvious—that the killer may have associates in Tarst, and possibly Dehre, too. She’d need to stay on her guard, which meant trying to stay in kaavl, aware of every nuance of her surroundings, at all times—if she could. Staying focused into kaavl was difficult for her. She had a lot to learn before she could reach the Bi-level.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Sixthday?”
“Sixthday.”
“Go with The One.” It was an odd blessing, and one her mother had never used before. Hanuh smiled, and Methusal quietly let herself out of her family’s compartment.
She slipped down the hall to the dining room, where the other kaavl contenders and Matron Olgith stood waiting. When Matron saw her, her finger jabbed impatiently at a pile of grain wafers and dried meat and berries. Apparently those were Methusal’s rations for the coming four days. Dehre and Tarst would probably feed their guests, but the custom had not yet been established. On the chance they would not, the Rolbani contenders would not go hungry. She scooped the food into a pouch created by the folding of her coverlet, and strapped the parcel to her shoulders.
Kitran stepped forward. “Thank you, Matron Olgith, for preparing our meals for the journey.”
The fat, hard face of the matron dimpled for the handsome Kitran. Clearly, the work had not been a chore, if done for him.
Kitran’s black eyes scanned the faces before him. Retra and Lina, the two Quatr-level contenders, stopped giggling.
Methusal and Behran were the contenders for the Tri-level, and only Verdnt represented Rolban’s Bi-level. Actually, Petr had won the Bi-level competition last week, but he had decided to stay behind and welcome the Dehrien delegation. And Kitran was the only Primary level competitor.
His black eyes finished their piercing inspection, and Kitran pointed to the Grand Staircase. “Time to go.”
Obediently, the five followed on his heels.
The silver rays of dawn had given way to a soft rose and orange tinted sky. The air was a crisp mixture of both warm and cool on Methusal’s face as she stepped beyond the gates. Perfect walking weather.
Kitran halted. “It will take three hours to reach Dehre. I expect each of you to keep quiet and practice kaavl during that time. Your Dehrien competitors will be hard to beat.”
Kitran set a brisk pace. Retra and Lina had to run from time to time to keep up with his long strides. Methusal was used to walking fast, so the pace didn’t bother her.
