Becar for decades—they could simply bide their time and invade later,” High Augur Teron said.
All the high augurs, except for Gissa, began talking at once, expounding on how the crisis would worsen the longer the problem persisted.
High Augur Etar held up his hands. “This is known. We have only one question before us: When must he die? It is a terrible thing to take even an emperor-to-be from our people. It will end a dynasty most see as eternal. We must be certain the time we pick is right. His death must do more good than harm. Given the news from Ranir, can we still afford to wait until the end of the races?”
“We must wait until the end of the races,” High Augur Siarm insisted. “You know the mood of the people during race season—it is their festival and their joy. If we take that from them, it will spark the very reaction we hope to prevent.”
There were nods from around the room.
“Then nothing has changed?” High Augur Etar asked.
The only response was a heavy silence.
High Augur Gissa rose. “One thing has changed. A small thing. But we can’t protect the empire if we ignore the small things. My sources have told me that an augur I know—a dedicated, holy man—is returning from his travels with a kehok for the emperor-to-be, as well as a rider, a trainer, and a race consultant. It is believed that the emperor-to-be has an interest in sponsoring a racer, and he has ordered the reestablishment of the royal stables, beginning with this one. If this is true, the emperor-to-be will undoubtedly recruit more, bringing a variety of kehoks in close proximity to the palace, under the scrutiny of a well-trained, highly skilled augur.”
More silence.
“This may not be a small thing,” High Augur Teron said.
“Since the augur in question is my friend, I will speak with him. He does not lie, and he certainly will not to me.” This was fact. Gissa did not allow emotion to color her voice. She knew she was best suited to learn what Augur Yorbel knew and also the most likely to influence his future behavior. “Perhaps he can be persuaded that this is not an endeavor appropriate for augurs. To be near such vile creatures is a threat to one’s soul, and Becar cannot afford the corruption of one of its most precious lights, especially in times such as these.”
“And if you do not like what you hear? Or if he will not listen to reason?” High Augur Etar asked her.
Gissa did not hesitate. She knew her duty. “Then I will kill my friend, with sadness in my heart but strength in my hand.”
“And those who accompany him?”
“If they are innocent, they live,” Gissa said. “However, if they do not have the best interests of our beloved Becar at heart, then they die with him.”
“So be it,” High Augur Etar said.
The others echoed him, and the council ended.
Inside the palace, in a suite with a view of the Aur River, Ambassador Usan of Ranir decided he despised sand. It wormed its way in everywhere, making even the finest silks feel gritty when the wind blew, which seemed to be all the blasted time. When he’d first arrived in Becar, he had found it mildly irritating. But now, he reflected, he loathed it.
Home was across the desert, on the shores of the Callifan Sea, where the breeze was crisp with salt and you could eat a slice of warm bread without having to chew grains of sand. He hated the bread here, and he hated the insistence of Becaran chefs on putting onions in everything.
But most of all he hated the people and their dewy-eyed insistence that all animals and birds were long-lost relations and thus should be honored. He hated the smug augurs, who treated the Becarans like goats to be herded and fed garbage until they were stuffed with self-righteousness.
The sooner his king could conquer this sand-blasted country, the sooner Usan could go home. He merely had to withstand its irritations a little longer. The country had almost reached its boiling point—even the augurs were having trouble keeping their herds soothed. Usan had done his part to stoke the fires, fueled by the unprecedented access to King Hamra of Ranir’s treasury, with careful whispers in important ears and judicious bribes in the appropriate pockets. His work was nearly done.
It won’t be long now, Usan thought. Everything was in place, and soon, very soon, he’d be able