67. Assassins

His brothers led them to one of the few stone houses in the city. Of course, His Eminence Atasiag Peykat could not live in just any slum. That would have been unthinkable, wouldn’t it? With a mocking pout, Dashvara moved forward, following Wassag down the stone corridor. The Wolf was dressed in his usual gray tunic and slave belt. He led him into a room where Atasiag was sitting at a small desk scribbling a message. Unlike Wassag, the federate was not wearing his usual white tunic and magistrate’s belt: he had dark clothes and carried two daggers on his belt. The man standing in front of him had become Cobra again, the leader of the Dream Brotherhood.

Casually, Dashvara sat down on the chair in front of him and said:

“Hello, Eminence. What’s up? How is it going?”

Cobra arched an eyebrow and finally looked up from his parchment.

“I had buried you a second time, Philosopher. Let me rejoice to see you alive again.”

Dashvara smirked.

“I let you, Eminence. And let me thank you in turn for helping my brothers to escape.”

“Oh.” Atasiag made a vague gesture. “It was only natural. We’re family, aren’t we?”

“Uh, yes, well…” Dashvara ran his tongue over his lips. “Any news from Titiaka?”

“And fresher than yours,” Atasiag said. He tapped a message on the table. “Homing pigeons are a fantastic service. Did you know? A message can travel from Titiaka to Matswad in less than six hours. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Beautiful and admirable,” Dashvara agreed, amused. “I guess this means that not all of Titiaka has been burned to the ground.”

“Far from it,” Atasiag assured. “It took them three days, but the Ragails finally calmed the crowd. The Council was completely ravaged and looted. The Legitimates ran away like rabbits.” He smiled. “Half of them left on their ships to Dazbon, including the brave Telvs.” He huffed, as if stifling a laugh. “The other half dug in at the Federal Palace. And some of them made the unfortunate mistake of deceiving some Ragails. They told them that the Commander ordered them to protect them, instead of going out to help their companions in the city. Imagine that,” he chuckled. “When he found out, the Commander of the Ragail Guard got angry and ordered them arrested.” This time he laughed loudly. “Who could have the idea to deceive the Ragails! That must have been impressive to see. Since then, the Commander has taken the liberty of establishing a Provisional Council, headed by Captain Faag Yordark. He and his father are among the few Legitimates who have behaved as true leaders of their people.” He rose from his chair and continued, “Now they have just informed me that the imprisoned Legitimates have been released. They have confiscated the property of those who fled, and the Commander has exiled the Nelkantas for supporting the Unitarians rebellion. The Yim and Steliar must be shaking and praying that the Commander doesn’t notice them too much.” He shook his head, amused. “When the Ragails want to clean up, they don’t just pretend. They’re the ones who set up the Legitimates, ninety years ago. And now they’re the ones who put them down. Or at least part of them.”

Dashvara looked at him, bewildered. Atasiag seemed more jovial than melancholic after the turnaround in his life over the past few days. Well, it was also true that, from the little he knew of his past life, such sudden changes must have been rather familiar to him.

“What about Sheroda?” he asked.

Atasiag raised an eyebrow.

“She’s here. Under this same roof. With Aligra and the other members of the Pearl Brotherhood. Do you wish to see her?”

Dashvara swallowed hard.

“No. I was just asking. What about my sister?”

Atasiag winced.

“She is… in the east wing of the house. She is…” he repeated, “with Lessi and with other people.”

The strange look he gave him alarmed Dashvara.

“What other people?”

Atasiag stopped near a side door to a courtyard. He motioned for him to follow him, and Dashvara stood up.

“With what other people?” he insisted as he followed him out the door.

“With Lanamiag Korfu. And some other citizen who fled with him.”

His voice was quiet. Dashvara did not try to hide his annoyance.

“Lanamiag Korfu,” he repeated. “Why on earth are you harboring the son of the man who betrayed you?”

Atasiag stopped in the middle of the courtyard, and his mouth twisted into a smile, but his eyes remained serious.

“Don’t ask me. Ask Fayrah. This is the room,” he pointed. “He’s badly hurt, Dash,” he added. “Stay here. I’ll go get your sister.”

“Eminence,” Dashvara called to him, uneasy. “If she is with him, I would rather not disturb her. I’ll… I’ll talk to her at another time.”

Atasiag raised his eyebrows before nodding slowly.

“Okay.”

There was an awkward silence. A morning mist danced on the cobblestones of the courtyard. It seemed almost as alive as the mist of the Whispers.

“I killed Rayeshag Korfu,” Dashvara whispered at last. “He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

Atasiag Peykat did not answer immediately.

“Can the one who ends up betraying you really be a friend?” he asked abruptly. “No, Philosopher. He was not a friend. As I told you, he merely required my services. He respected me, more because of the Dream Brotherhood than because of my title as magistrate, but… he was a man who did not like risks. As soon as the Dikaksunora began to threaten him seriously, he switched sides. And he made a mistake.” He smiled bitterly. “He could not imagine that a steppeman would go directly to end his life. Nor that the Akinoas, the great enemies of the Xalyas, would support you.”

Dashvara looked down at his hands and pouted in disgust. His voice was hoarse as he said:

“I’ve had enough of this, Eminence. Enough of having to continually fight to stay alive. Enough of revenge. And enough of being on this island surrounded by water.”

Atasiag smiled sympathetically.

“I’ve had enough too. Except for the last point. Besides, by definition, an island is surrounded by water, Philosopher.” Dashvara rolled his eyes, and the Diumcilian added, “You can stop calling me Eminence, Dash. We are not in Titiaka.”

Dashvara gave him a mocking smile.

“But you used to like being called that. Eminence.”

Atasiag looked at him for a few seconds before sighing.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I guess there are too many bad influences in Titiaka. Sometimes I feel like I’m half a fool.”

Dashvara laughed quietly.

“Well, that’s a good start. When you have fully confirmed your feeling, I will stop calling you Eminence. And I’ll call you brother.”

Atasiag shook his head in amusement and was about to respond when a commotion suddenly broke out in one of the corridors. His heart in shock, Dashvara ran across the courtyard toward the screams… He was just reaching the door to the hallway when it flew open and he saw a man rushing toward him, sword in hand. His eyes bulging, Dashvara narrowly dodged a lethal blow that grazed his chest. The next second, five Xalyas pounced on the assassin from behind, disarming him and slamming him to the ground.

“Don’t kill him!” Dashvara shouted.

With bated breath, he approached the man. Tsu blocked his way and took him by the arm.

“Did he hurt you?”

Dashvara shook his head.

“No,” he breathed out. He looked down at his chest and smiled, “Your amulet must have worked, Tsu.”

“Who the hell are you?” Orafe growled at the assassin. “Answer!”

He and Maef shook the man. The captain patiently intervened:

“Guys, stop shaking him, come on. How do you expect him to answer like that?”

All the Xalyas had joined the courtyard, followed by Yira, Wassag, Yorlen, Dafys, and Loxarios and his dog.

“What happened?” Yira asked, running to Dashvara.

Dashvara took her by the waist and calmed her down:

“Nothing, naâsga. That man tried to kill me, that’s all. If he can explain why…” He fell silent suddenly when Maef sat the man up and allowed them all to see his face. Dashvara recognized him right away.

It was Zefrek of Shalussi. Zefrek son of Nanda.