“Let’s start with these,” Taul said. He pointed to the devices he’d taken from the ironwood box and arranged them in a grid on a silk square.
“Kithvyrae,” Balniss said, squinting at the box.
“We haven’t had one under Ryldia’s rule,” Taul said.
“I think longer than that,” Balniss said. “This is dangerous, brother.”
“Help me make it less so.”
Balniss crouched before the devices and passed his hand over them without touching them. Taul sat cross-legged beside him and waited. Balniss took out a slip of cloth from a pocket and started separating the devices, grasping each gingerly with the cloth.
“I wouldn’t touch those,” he said, nodding to the left-hand side of the square. “These others have milder impressions. You’ll need to touch them to learn their use, though.”
Taul selected the ring and dared to press a finger to it.
“I am Taul Lor’Toshtolin, prime consort,” he said. “Our house is in need.”
He repeated the words like a prayer while rubbing the smooth steel. It warmed to his touch and a willowy voice seemed to whirl about his skull. Taul continued his supplication until the voice settled at the base of his skull and warmed considerably. The voice within the device did not speak with words, though Taul seemed to sense its meaning: press it to your chest and imagine a face and form. The flat ring was a disguise device, but he kept that knowledge to himself. His brother didn’t press. Taul was a prime consort, and like a matron, his secrets must be his own.
There was a long history in the ring. Layers of thought and feeling bubbled up. Taul set it down. He’d no interest in all that right now.
“What about those?” Balniss said, pointing to a pair of heavily embroidered bands.
Taul took them both, one in each hand, and rubbed them.
You will walk in shadow, they seemed to say. No other words came to him. It just repeated.
“You’re right,” he said, turning to Balniss. “They are simple.”
“Good,” Balniss said. His eyes betrayed a deep curiosity, but he refrained from asking what they did. “I’d stay away from the spearhead and those daggers. Weapons accumulate strong emotion. An inexperienced wielder often ends up dead, or mad.”
“What about these?” Taul asked about the knives and needles.
“Those needles must have belonged to a priestess or assassin. Could be dangerous. That knife seems safe.”
Balniss was pointing to a plain looking kithaun knife. It had a smooth ironwood handle and a silver guard and pommel.
Taul picked it up. It had a five-inch blade and a curved tip, more than enough to shank or slice if needed.
“It’s been a while since you trained,” Balniss said.
“Yes, I’ll spar with the house guard.”
“Do you think that wise?”
“Who, then?”
Balniss grinned. “Me.”
“I didn’t know diviners kept up their martial skills.”
“I am a knight, brother. We, above all, are neck-deep in the war of assassins.”
“Still? I thought all that ended long ago.”
Balniss looked away. “If only you were right. There are diverse types of assassins, and each has its own war.”
“Like the Naukvyrae?”
“Yes, like them, but even they experience division, factions within factions. There is the Kithvrass, the honest edge. They go about killing the unworthy, doing what their matrons could not for the sake of the whole. They are the true justice of the goddess… or so they think.”
“And the others?”
“Some kill false diviners. Others kill false priestesses.”
Taul gasped. “Surely none of that happens now?”
“Now more than ever, but most of it is bluster. Nine in ten priestesses would be dead, otherwise. It’s mostly a political tool veiled in righteousness.”
“Ryldia…” Taul said without thinking.
“I don’t think she passed the trial,” Balniss said. “I’m sorry to say. Not that she isn’t a fine woman and a good matron. Most don’t attempt the trial, and their houses discourage it for fear of losing their head. I suspect Ryldia dipped-a-toe, as they say.”
He meant the pool of trials at the base of the temple spire. His sister had mentioned it when they were young, but only once. Those were secrets meant only for women.
“What can we do, brother?” Taul asked. “It’s like we’re in a mudslide with nothing to stop us.”
“No, just the bottom of the mountain. We’ll reach it someday.”
