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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] "Something like that." "And yourself? Did you just ingest the antidote, before we showed up?" "No, it was harmless! . . . supposed to be. I had made arrangements to go and rest, till it passed off. I thought it might be . . . an interesting sensation." "Pervert," murmured Ivan. Yenaro glared at him. Miles said slowly, "When I was burned, that first night. All that hand-wringing on your part wasn't totally feigned, was it? You weren't expecting it." Yenaro paled. "I expected . . . I thought perhaps the Marilacans had done something to the power adjustment. It was only supposed to shock, not injure." "Or so you were told." "Yes," Yenaro whispered. "The zlati ale was your idea, though, wasn't it," growled Ivan. "You knew?!" "I'm not an idiot." Some passing ghem glanced in puzzlement at the three men kneeling in a circle on the floor, though fortunately they passed on without comment. Miles nodded to the nearest bench, in the curve of the nook. "I have something to tell you, Lord Yenaro, and I think you had better be sitting down." Ivan guided Yenaro to it and firmly pushed him down. After a thoughtful moment, Ivan then poured the rest of the pitcher of liquid into the nearest tree-tub, before settling between Yenaro and the exit. "This isn't just a series of gratifying tricks played on the doltish envoys of a despised enemy, for you to chuckle at," Miles went on lowly. "You are being used as a pawn in a treason plot against the Cetagandan Emperor. Used, discarded, and silenced. It's beginning to be a pattern. Your last fellow-pawn was the Ba Lura. I trust you've heard what happened to it." Yenaro's pale lips parted, but he breathed no word. After a moment he licked his lips and tried again. "This can't be. It's too crude. It would have started a blood feud between his clan and those of . . . all the innocent bystanders." "No. It would have started a blood feud between their clans and yours. You Page 76 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html were set up to take the fall for this one. Not only as an assassin, but as one so incompetent that he blew himself up with his own bomb. Following in your grandfather's footsteps, so to speak. And who would be left alive to deny it? The confusion would multiply within the capital, as well as between your Empire and Barrayar, while his satrapy made its break for independence. No, not crude. Downright elegant." "The Ba Lura committed suicide. It was said." "No. Murdered. Cetagandan Imperial Security is on to that one, too. They will unravel it in time. No . . . they will unravel it eventually. I don't trust that it will be in time." "It is impossible for a ba servitor to commit treason." "Unless the ba servitor thinks that it is acting loyally, in a deliberately ambiguous situation. I don't think even the ba are so un-human that they cannot be mistaken." " . . . No." Yenaro looked up at both the Barrayarans. "You must believe, I would have no regrets whatsoever if you two fell off a cliff. But I would not push you myself." "I . . . so I judged," said Miles. "But for my curiosity what were you to get out of the deal, besides a week's amusement in embarrassing a couple of loutish barbarians? Or was this art for art's sake on your part?" "He promised me a post." Yenaro stared at the floor again. "You don't understand, what it is to be without a post in the capital. You have no position. You have no status. You are . . . no one. I was tired of being no one." "What post?" "Imperial Perfumer." Yenaro's dark eyes flashed. "I know it doesn't sound very mighty, but it would have gained me entrance to the Celestial Garden, maybe the Imperial Presence itself. Where I would have worked among . . . the best in the empire. The top people. And I would have been good." Miles had no trouble understanding ambition, no matter how arcane its form. "I imagine so." Yenaro's lips twitched in half a grateful smile. Miles glanced at his chrono. "God, I'm late. Ivan can you handle this from here?" "I think so." Miles rose. "Good day, Lord Yenaro, and a better one than you were destined to have, I think. I may have used up a year's supply this afternoon already, but wish me luck. I have a little date with Prince Slyke now." "Good luck," Yenaro said doubtfully. Miles paused. "It was Prince Slyke, was it not?" "No! I was talking about Governor the haut Ilsum Kety!" Miles pursed his lips, and blew out his breath in a slow trickle. I have just been either screwed or saved. I wonder which? "Kety set you up . . . with all this?" "Yes . . ." Could Kety have sent his fellow governor and cousin Prince Slyke to scout out the Imperial Regalia for him, a stalking horse? Certainly. Or not. For that matter, could Slyke have set up Kety to operate Yenaro for him? Not impossible. Back to square one. Damn, damn, damn! While Miles hovered in new doubt, the protocol officer rounded the corner. His hurried stride slowed as he spotted Miles and Ivan, and a look of relief crossed his face. By the time he strolled into the nook he was projecting the air of a tourist again, but he raked Yenaro with a knife-keen glance. "Hello, my lords." His nod took all three in equally. "Hello, sir," said Miles. "Did you have an interesting conversation?" "Extraordinarily." "Ah . . . I don't believe you've formally met Lord Yenaro, sir. Lord Yenaro, this is my embassy's protocol officer, Lord Vorreedi." The two men exchanged more studied nods, Yenaro's hand going to his chest in a sketch of a sitting bow. Page 77 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "What a coincidence, Lord Yenaro," Vorreedi went on. "We were just talking about you." "Oh?" said Yenaro warily. "Ah . . ." Vorreedi sucked his lip thoughtfully, then seemed to come to some internal decision. "Are you aware that you seem to be in the middle of some sort of vendetta at present, Lord Yenaro?" "I no! What makes you think so?" "Hm. Normally, ghem-lords' personal affairs are not my business, only the official ones. But the, ah, chance of a good deed has come up so squarely in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |