a Barrani Lord of note and it was considered an internal Barrani affair.”
“The Tha’alani are not Barrani.”
“No.”
“They died.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what happened. And drop the Barrani; I’ve heard nothing but Barrani for the past week, and I’m sick to death of it.”
“I am not certain—I mean, I’m not sure—”
Helmat lifted a hand, and abandoned Barrani entirely. “I’m in too foul a mood to handle bullshit. What happened?”
“Barrani were involved in the murders.”
“Do not try my patience.” He ennunciated each word with force.
“A Barrani man was involved with a Tha’alani woman.”
Helmat whistled before he could stop himself. “Was he insane?”
“By Barrani standards, probably. I’d’ve chosen the Tha’alani friendship over Barrani overtures any day.”
And still would, Helmat thought. “And?”
“She died. She was killed, but the death was marked as—and believed to be—accidental.”
“And the person responsible for her death was responsible for all the others?”
“Yes. I don’t believe the deaths would have stopped if he hadn’t died.”
“How did he die?”
Severn shrugged. This annoyed Helmat. But something about the boy’s expression quelled irritation. What had he said to Rosen? He was earnest. Earnest was often conflated with naivete. That, Helmat thought, the boy lacked.
“You’ll have to have better answers than these if you want this mission to be marked as resolved.”
Severn nodded.
“And the death of the witnesses?”
“The witnesses weren’t witnesses; they were perpetrators.”
“And they were murdered in order to hide that fact?”
“No.”
“Private—”
“They were killed,” not murdered, Helmat noted, “in order to save the Tha’alani from revisiting the memories of those events.”
“You believe the Tha’alani were involved in the witness deaths?”
“No. But I believe the desire to protect them motivated the killings. There’s a way to determine the truth; one of the four survived.” He met, and held, Helmat’s glare. “If he’s guilty, he would likely face death.”
“The Tha’alanari would be called to confirm.”
Severn nodded.
“You advise against?”
“The reason the Tha’alani are called in is to confirm beyond a doubt that the condemned is guilty. Without that, we’d have to guess.”
“What would you do with the witness?”
“I’d release him.”
“Even if he’s guilty of murder?”
Severn nodded.
“You don’t think he’ll survive long on the streets.”
“Do you?” Severn countered.
“Don’t get emotionally involved with the Tha’alani.”
Severn nodded again.
“...I’ve never been forced to utter those words in this office before.”
“You didn’t want Ybelline involved in any aspect of this investigation, either. And it would be Ybelline who would conduct the interview. There’s no one else she would allow to do it.”
“She said that?”
“She didn’t need to say it. Timorri might never return to the Imperial Service, and he chanced upon memories of the events and recoiled. She’ll be castelord. You said it. Garadin said it. She’ll conduct that interview if an interview is demanded.”
“You’d rather she didn’t.”
“I don’t see the point. I believe he’s guilty. You believe it.”
“That is not the way the law works.”
Severn bowed his head again. He was silent for long enough, Helmat thought he had surrendered, but there was, in the boy’s silence, something almost immovable. “It’s not the way the law works for us,” he said, when he raised his head again.
“What are you suggesting?”
Silence.
“Do you fully understand what you’re asking of me?”
“The Emperor’s Laws are the Emperor’s. The Emperor decides guilt or innocence. He can’t make that call using the Tha’alani to get at the truth—if the criminals were in our custody, there’d be no hunt. He calls the hunts based on information he’s given. He can call them off. It’s entirely his choice. It’s not possible for the Emperor to break the law.”
“It is,” Helmat said.
“The Emperor is the law.”
“Did Elluvian put you up to this?”
“Elluvian?” Which answered Helmat’s question.
“Tell En,” he finally said. “I don’t have the Emperor’s ear. En does.”
“Why do you call him that?”
“Because it annoys him. Tell Elluvian, if you prefer. Elluvian can broach the subject with the Emperor.”
“And you’ll accept that?”
“I’ll accept it. Elluvian might not.”
“No.”
“Is that why you wanted to speak with me?”
“I thought you’d understand my reasoning.”
“And Elluvian won’t?”
“Elluvian won’t care.”
Ah. “Elluvian is a Wolf, but he occupies an unusual position. I cannot command Elluvian to discuss this with the Emperor. I can ask, but I can’t control the conversation; I can’t control what Elluvian says or requests. If I have no chance, you have—”
“Less than no chance.”
Helmat nodded.
Severn surprised him then. “I would like,” he said, “to speak with the Emperor.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Wolves had a tabard that was seldom worn; unlike the Hawks or the Swords, the ranks of the Wolves were always thin. Severn was not allowed to enter the presence of the Eternal Emperor without