Page 77 of Keeper of the Word

I leave you alone for five short moons and already you’ve kidnapped a StarSeer, made an enemy of the Order of Siria, and now I hear others as well. Wolf, I fear I should board a ship.

As Ghlee wentinto the news from Dara Keep, Tolvar skimmed to the end to see if the message held anything more interesting than an unwelcome lecture. There was far too much information about Alvie and a tale of him returning Kenn, Sloane’s horse, to the Cibil of the Nay Moon.

Who cared about some tale?

The Cibilof the Nay Moon is certainly interesting. He gave Alvie a note that I am still mulling over.

What did that mean?The postscript was even more infuriating.

By the way,I was reflecting on that time years ago when you and I, along with your brother, pursued Himmex the Hand not far from Trysinmar, only to find he was dead. Most inconvenient when his mistress showed us the body. Would it not have been wild to discover that ’twas all a hoax?

Stars,Ghlee.What nonsense was that at the end? Who cared about the criminal, Himmex?

All a hoax.

His heart quickened. Could Ghlee be sending a discreet message about Crevan? Ghlee wasn’t one for riddles, and whatreason would he have to not be forthright in a sealed message traveling via trusted messenger?

“Who brought this?” Tolvar asked.

“A page from the Order of Sira, m’lord.”

Ah. That made more sense. Ghlee may have sworn oaths of the Order of Siria in Deogol, but if he’d received word that Tolvar and the Order here had clashed, Ghlee was no dimwit. They were brothers. A bond stronger than any he had to the Order.

Tolvar reread the message.

Ghlee had specifically mentioned an incident that included Crevanandthe town of Trysinmar. ’Twas only a half-day’s ride from here. Could Crevan be hiding in plain sight in Trysinmar? Well, Tolvar’s “assistance” certainly wasn’t making much difference here.

“Saddle Valko and find Gus and three others to ride with me to Trysinmar.”

“Aye, m’lord,” a soldier said, before exiting Bernwald’s tent.

Tolvar gave the message to Bernwald and tried not to study the decanter of wine that sat on the corner table.

“M’lord, I am not certain what to make of this. Do you think it wise to leave?” Bernwald asked. “Tensions are high, even without the ‘crack.’ Tell me what you think you’re to find in Trysinmar, and I shall go in your stead.”

Tolvar opened his mouth and then closed it. He trusted Bernwald; of course, he did. But what about others around them?

You’re being paranoid. All this sitting around feigning diplomacy, finding traces of the Curse. All this business with Elanna and Crevan and the prince. ’Tis making you paranoid.

“Thank you, Bernwald, but I doubt anything interesting will happen while I’m away. Try and hold affairs together until I return tomorrow.”

“Tolvar,” Bernwald caught him off guard by using his name. “Is this ‘hoax’ you seek…? Is it Lord Crevan?”

Tolvar didn’t answer right away. “And what if it was?”

“M’lord,” Bernwald paused. “You have not been behaving entirely as yourself since your arrival. Lord Dillard?—”

“Stars, man. Let us not bring that up.”

“Very well. But is it possible that in Trysinmar you seek naught but a ghost?”

“Bernwald—”

“Hear me out, and then I shall hold my tongue. The weight of the Capella Realm is not entirely placed upon your shoulders.”

Stars. Would that those words felt true. “I shall return tomorrow.”

The evening had turnedinto a quiet night when Tolvar and the others entered Trysinmar. The first place they stopped was the constable’s, a rickety office two doors down from the town’s gate. Tolvar made a mental note to have the office repaired as he tied Valko to the post outside.