She laughed. “That’s the most polite way of saying ‘You’re nosy’ that I’ve ever heard.” Then she sobered. “Truthfully, Yorbel, how is our emperor-to-be?” She was treading closely to asking what they had discussed, which would have been an improper question. Confidentiality after consultation with an augur was customary and important. Also, it was law.
Early on in their existence, augur readings had been public. But people had used their results as an excuse to persecute others, and so the first High Council of Augurs, in their wisdom, had limited readings and imposed strict rules of privacy. Of course, Gissa knows I can’t discuss details of my conversation with Dar, Yorbel thought. He gave her a true yet vague answer. “He loved his brother dearly and mourns him greatly.”
Gissa nodded. “As is appropriate. But he cannot allow his emotions to interfere with his duties. Do you believe he is capable of setting aside his personal pain for the good of Becar?”
He considered his answer carefully. He trusted Gissa, of course, but now that she had been raised to the top tier of augurs, to talk with her was to talk with all the high augurs. And there were some he wasn’t overly fond of, despite his respect for them and their integrity. In fact, his disagreement with some of their decisions was what had prevented them from inviting him to become a high augur, or so he had inferred. “I believe he wants to do his duty. But his brother’s death was unexpected. He will need time to come to terms with it.”
“He may not have time.” Gissa was eyeing him more closely than Yorbel was comfortable with, as if she were trying to see what he wasn’t saying. He wished the conversation hadn’t shifted to politics. “Things are becoming more unsettled in the western cities with the passage of time, not less. As soon as the vessel for his late brother’s soul is found, Prince Dar will need to move quickly to restore stability.”
“He will be ready,” Yorbel said, trying to put as much reassurance into his voice as possible. He hoped she’d believe him, and that she’d convey that to the council.
“Will he? Is he aware of how far the empire could fall before he’s crowned? Soon, we will see an escalation of violence, as well as an increase in the threat from beyond our borders—”
“You think it will come to violence?” He knew the courtiers were impatient—the guard had made that clear—but he hadn’t known that such concern had spread throughout Becar. Sequestered in the temple most days, Yorbel didn’t have a feel for the mood of the bulk of the citizens.
“I do,” she said seriously. “In some places, in small doses, it already has. We’re lucky it is nearly race season. The races will distract the commoners for a time. But once they end, I fear the worst. He will need to be coronated by the end of the floods and ready to rule, or steps will have to be taken. Do you understand my meaning, Yorbel? The high council will not allow Becar to devolve into riots and war. We serve the greater good.”
That was . . . troubling. He thought of all the rumors he’d heard about Gissa’s “special training”—rumors he’d always denied, at least out loud. “Gissa, why are you asking these questions? Why did the high council summon you back?” He wasn’t certain he wanted to hear the answer.
“In five weeks, when the races end, if the late emperor’s vessel has not been found or if Prince Dar is too distraught to accept his responsibilities, I will be the one to see the peace is maintained.”
“You?” But she was speaking of . . .
“Yes, Yorbel.” Her voice was gentle, as if she knew he’d understood what she meant and knew it would upset him. “It is my duty.”
“But . . .” There were a thousand things he wanted to say. He looked into her eyes and saw only her resolve—and perhaps a hint of pity. “Only five weeks?”
She looped her arm through his. “Much can happen in five weeks. Let’s talk of pleasanter things. Tell me of all I’ve missed in the temple.”
Only five weeks to prevent one friend from being killed . . . and another friend from being his killer. He wondered if his idea to search the kehoks was a waste of time—time that neither Dar nor Gissa had. Maybe he should abandon it as a wild-goose chase and