Free Seeds of Betrayal by David B. Coe

land save Uulrann. It would be dangerous to dismiss all of them as idle rumors.”
    Tebeo nodded but offered no response. He seemed to be waiting for her to say more.
    Evanthya took a breath. The question hung between them, waiting to be given voice. Better she should ask it and hear his reply, before he turned the question on her.
    “Do you think the Qirsi killed Lord Bistari?”
    The duke gave a small shrug. “With all I’ve heard, I have to think it possible. You said yourself that you fear for the kingdom. I fear for Sanbira as well, and even for Eibithar. It seems to me that every murder in the past year has moved one of our neighbors closer to a crisis. Now it’s our turn. Eandi nobles are dying throughout the land. Whom should I blame but the Qirsi?”
    Evanthya conceded the point with a single nod. She had never for a moment doubted her duke’s intelligence, but she was surprised to hear how much thought he had given these matters. He hadn’t mentioned any of this to her before today. She could guess why.
    “I’m sorry to have to ask you this, First Minister, but are you party to the conspiracy?”
    She looked at him, her gaze steady despite the pounding of her pulse. “No, my lord, I’m not. But as your first minister I have to advise you not to believe me. If you have any doubts at all about my loyalty, you should remove me from my office and appoint someone in my place until you’re satisfied that I can be trusted.”
    That of all things made him smile, albeit wanly. “I’m sure that’s wise counsel. But for now you’ll remain my first minister.”
    “As you wish, my lord.”
    “You never really answered my question, Evanthya. Do you think the king had Chago killed?”
    Her hands were sweaty in spite of the cold, and she had to keep from wiping them on her breeches. “I don’t know, my lord.”
    The duke glanced at her and nodded once more, his round face pale and that same fearful look in his eyes. “Do you want to know the real reason I won’t replace you?” he asked a moment later.
    She just stared at him, not certain that she did.
    “I wouldn’t know who else to turn to. I’m afraid to trust any Qirsi right now. At least I know you.”

Chapter Four
    Kelt, Aneira
    He went out of his way to be kind to her, showing her courtesies she was certain no one else enjoyed. He hadn’t forced her to climb to the top of the rise since her fourth turn, and recently he had appeared to her before she walked more than a hundred paces. On the other hand, as her time approached he entered her dreams more and more frequently, until she found herself too weary to do much of anything during her waking hours. It almost seemed that the Weaver believed himself to be the child’s father, so concerned was he with Cresenne’s well-being. That was impossible, of course; she and the Weaver had never even met outside of her dreams. But he often asked what she had eaten the previous day, chiding her when the answer she gave failed to satisfy him. One night during the previous turn, he had spoken to her at length of what a glorious future awaited her baby.
    “Your child will grow up in a land ruled by the Qirsi,” he said that night, sounding almost breathless with excitement. “Rather than aspiring to be a gleaner or a minister, he or she will grow up dreaming of being a noble, a duke or duchess, perhaps even more. No Qirsi child born in the Forelands has ever had that before.”
    Cresenne had entertained such thoughts herself almost from the day she realized she was pregnant. But she nodded and agreed with the Weaver as if with his help, she had glimpsed this possible future for the very first time.
    Still, she might have been flattered by the interest the Weaver had taken in her and her child had it not been for the utter terror that she felt whenever she spoke with him. And she might have believed his interest genuine and unselfish, had he not asked her the same one question during each conversation.
    On this