natives of this town but one thing they are not, to a man, woman or child of
them – stupid enough to taunt the Beysib like this!’
Walegrin frowned. ‘So they believe it’s a Sanctuary man, or woman, behind it.
But at least one of the bodies was found on the rooftops, right here, in the
palace compound. This place is guarded, Molin. We guard it; they guard it. We’d
have seen him, at least.’
‘Exactly what I’ve told them. Exactly why I’m sure it isn’t one of us. But no;
they’ve been frightened. They’re convinced the town is smouldering against them
– they don’t intend to be pushed any further and they’re not about to listen to
me.
‘I figure it works this way: there are malcontents in this court just like
anywhere else. I knew the bulk of the hotheads congregated at the Aphrodisia. I
didn’t think there was danger to it; I just meant to keep those young men
watched. Their leader is the eldest son of Terrai Burek, the Beysa’s prime
minister. And a child more unlike the father you can’t imagine. It’s no secret
the boy hates his father and would do anything to spite the old man – though I
expect bullying the townspeople would come naturally to him anyway. Yet, the
father protects his son and the common laws of Sanctuary can’t reach him.’
‘You’re talking about Turghurt, aren’t you?’ Walegrin asked, obviously
recognizing the name, though Cythen didn’t recall having heard it before.
‘Still, Cythen’s sister was killed by venom – and the Harka Bey are all women.’
‘True enough, but if the Harka Bey is real then it’s likely a number of other