The man drank the last of his tea. He held the empty cup for a moment, and then casually tossed it over his shoulder. It fell on the rug and rolled in a half circle without breaking. Hest’s ears rang, and the room seemed to grow dim. When the man gestured with the razor-sharp knife, Hest could not contain the small sound in his throat. The Chalcedean appeared not to notice. He cocked his head at Hest and smiled like a flirtatious snake. “You will sit now, there, at your desk, and we will tease out a bit more of the truth here. I see it hiding in your eyes.”
“I don’t know the truth. I have suspicions, nothing more.” But the suspicions were rapidly weaving themselves into a logical pattern. Alise and her obsessive study of the dragons. Sedric’s sudden support for her ridiculous Rain Wild expedition to see the creatures. He’d even mentioned Begasti’s name, hadn’t he, in the midst of their last quarrel? Or the one before? Some foolishness about a fortune to be made . . . Hest made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. For the past few years, Sedric had watched him maneuver his way through the trading world. He’d run Hest’s errands, fetched his tea, brushed his jackets, and, yes, warmed his bed. But obviously he’d thought himself better and more deserving than that. He’d thought he was clever enough to cut this little side trade on his own. If he’d only put himself and Alise at risk, Hest might have found it amusing. But as he crossed the room on rubbery legs and took a seat at his desk, blood dripping from his slashed face and his mutilated hand, all he could feel was fury at Sedric’s incompetence and betrayal.
The Chalcedean took a perch on the corner of the desk and sat looking down on Hest. He smiled. “I see a bit of anger there, now. You are thinking, ‘his blood should be soaking this napkin, not mine.’ I am right, am I not? So. Summon your slave and let us apply this pain where it belongs.”
Hest fought to keep his voice steady. “I told you. He ran off. He stole from me and he ran off. I have nothing to do with him now. Whatever bargain he struck with Begasti Cored, he negotiated on his own. It’s nothing to do with me.” Sudden outrage that Sedric could have precipitated this disaster gave him courage. He leaned forward in his chair and shouted, “You, sir, have made a serious mistake!”
The Chalcedean was unimpressed. He cocked his head and leaned closer, smiling a thin-lipped smile. But his amusement did not seem to reach his eyes. “Have I? But not as grave as yours. You are responsible and you will be held responsible. What a man’s slave does or does not do reflects on his master. You have let one of yours run off and make bargains and steal from you and done nothing to correct him. So you must pay, just as if your horse had run wild in a market or your dog bitten a child’s face. Do you not know the saying, ‘When a slave lies with your tongue, it is still your mouth it is cut from’? What your man did in your name, you must answer for. Perhaps with a finger, perhaps with your hand . . . perhaps with your life. It is not up to me to decide how heavily you must pay, but answer you will.”