Page 50 of A Drop of Corruption

“The death of your delegation member?” echoed the green-faced man. “You mean the one so brutalized in the canals?”

“Yes, sir.”

The green-faced man took a step forward, studying me. “You came all this way alone?”

“I did, sir,” I said.

“With no guard, nor any escort?”

“No, sir,” I said, puzzled.

The green-faced man’s eyes stayed fixed upon me. He did not speak for a long time. I began to feel somewhat discomfited.

“And who might you be, sir?” I asked finally.

Kardas cleared his throat. “This is Satrap Danduo Darhi, Kol,” he said. “The administrator of the court of Yarrow, and foremost adviser to the king.”

I glanced back at the green-faced man, whose face remained inscrutable. That explained Kardas’s anxiety, then: he likely did not wish this man to return to the king of Yarrow with news that Imperial Iudex officers wandered about picking fights with their priests. Perhaps that was why he’d tried to send me off so quickly.

I bowed yet again—this time a full bow, my brow nearly touching the tips of my boots—and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

The green-faced Darhi attempted something resembling a smile, yet it was as warm as a stone in a mountain stream; but I noted that despite all his poise, his teeth, too, were misshapen and rotted. “It seems a pity for someone with so valiant a task to have come so far, and alone, only to be sent away with nothing! For we wish the Treasury delegation all the safety we can offer—yes? Especially after such a tragedy. I assume you have given him kind greetings, Pavitar?”

“The kindest,” grunted Pavitar.

“I’ve no doubt. But, still…I am moved to grant him a token of my favor. Not all can navigate the slopes of our realm so easily.” Darhi reached into his pocket and slipped out something shining and silver.

Pavitar shook his head, disgusted. “Why must you always make such a show?”

“I do it for I am a decent man, and reward decent work,” said Darhi. “And it is a hard thing for an imperial to travel so far, alone.” He handed the silver thing to one of his soldiers, who took it and began to trot toward me.

“Oh, no, sir,” I said. “There’s no need to offer me any gi—”

“Signum Kol would be most happy to take your gift, sir,” said Kardas, and shot me a look.

I took the silver thing from the Yarrow soldier. It was a coin, wide and flat and bright. I hastily put it away, sensing that now was not the time to scrutinize it.

“If you are ever in the High City,” said the green-faced Darhi, “show that to any Yarrow fellow you meet, and he will call you a friend. If he is of noble make, he is oathbound to grant you a service.”

“A high gift,” said Pavitar sourly. “One that requiresgreatworks to be deserving of it.”

I took the comment to mean I had accomplished no such thing, but I bowed and said my thanks.

“Very good. On your way now, Kol,” said Kardas nervously to me. “On your way, please.”

I mounted my horse and rode back down the muddy path. After I had turned once or twice, I slid the coin from the pocket to study it.

The coin held the crude visage of a man, grim-faced and with a beard in braids, and a narrow circlet set upon his brow. Not the face of the emperor, then, as I was accustomed to seeing on talint coins; perhaps the king of Yarrow, whose face I did not know.

I glanced back up the path and saw a figure standing at the edge of the bluff, watching me: the purple-faced Pavitar, his fur cape rippling in the breeze. He gazed at me, then turned and walked away.

—

I was a leagueaway from Old Town when I heard a rustling from the foliage at the edge of the path, and then a voice: “There you are. Finally.” Malo emerged from the leaves, her crimson hood spattered with mud and her longbow slung across her back. “I have sought you all day, sniffing your trail, Kol. Why do I find you here? Nothing good lies at the end of this road.”

“So I saw,” I said. “I went to try to speak to one of Kardas’s people. Instead I spied something very strange.”

She stopped. “Did you,” she said carefully. “What was it?”