Chapter 20 #3
“Nothing, ma’am! I’ve only heard curses of him, given that I serve the Armentas. They say he is strange, and brilliant, yet all too willing to turn his innovations against the Armentas, who consider themselves the elder keepers of the ranching life here.”
“What of his son, Jalin?”
“Well…Jalin had no stomach for the ranching life, that I know,” she said. “His father put him to work in the flensing halls, to toughen him up—always with the firstborn son, I suppose…”
I avoided her gaze.
“…but it only made him more broken. Burilis wished the boy to be a weapon against the Armentas, but he never fit the mold. Jalin tried to overcompensate—he’s the only Burav I’ve ever known to actually wear a gentry tughra ring, the rest don’t bother—but he was always found wanting.”
“Not the murderer type, then,” said Tauri.
“Possibly,” said Fotia. “But I know he hated one Armenta passionately—Lyimo Armenta, Velona’s firstborn.”
Ana sat up. “Really!” she said softly.
I summoned the memories of the painting I’d glimpsed of the Armenta children. Lyimo, the eldest, had seemed tall, dashing, charismatic—but there had been something slightly cruel in his smile. A little princeling, inclined toward cheerful gaiety and cruel torment equally.
“Lyimo was said to mock Jalin endlessly whenever he glimpsed the boy in town,” said Fotia.
“Or even anyone who knew him. He made Jalin’s waking days an utter hell.
Eventually Jalin stopped visiting town altogether.
I never said this among the Armentas, but Jalin’s life was likely a very sad one—at home, brutalized by his father, and abroad, terrorized by Lyimo. ”
“Intriguing,” said Ana. “Did Jalin harbor any other personal enmities? Perhaps of Sagma Armenta, the girl who hanged herself?”
“No. Nor Gevma. He had nothing personal against them—but there were plenty of impersonal reasons for dislike. They were feuding families, after all.”
Ana was silent for a long while. “Your testimony is helpful, Miss Kol,” she said finally. “Yet it is but words. We need more.” She leaned forward. “I’ve a task for you, if you’re willing.”
“Ah—beg pardon, ma’am?” I asked. “I think my sister has done enough—”
“No, no, Din,” said Ana. “She’s proven herself a wily and useful thing!
And my mind now turns to the three dead Armenta children.
For I do not think Velona knew all. I’ve more questions, but I do not believe the household will be inclined to answer them honestly now.
So I would like a more honest face to ask those questions—very quietly, and very secretly, instead. ”
“You wish her to be our operative?” I said angrily. “I won’t have her put at risk, ma’am,”
“Yet she is at risk!” said Ana. “She and her husband-to-be. I thought that was very clear.”
“You use her jailed husband to bait her?”
“I remind her of her priorities now, Din!” snapped Ana. “The Burav fire is obviously the work of our web-killer, but we will learn little from it. We should return instead to the beginning. To our poisoner, and the first deaths we know of. And that wi—”
“I’ll do it,” said Fotia.
I turned to her, shocked. “What! You…Fo, you don’t even know what it is!”
“But I will do it,” she said. “I was clear to you, brother. If this killer isn’t caught, I’ll never be safe, nor will Ip or anyone else. And I’ve a fierce desire to bring hell down upon their heads.”
“The girl is of your infuriating ilk, Din,” said Ana, grinning. “A little too decent and impetuous for her own good. You cannot resent her for that. Besides, I have a very specific target I wish her to ask about—the murder of Sagma Armenta, and no other.”
I blinked through my anger, and asked, “Why only Sagma?”
“Because,” said Ana, “Sagma’s death was different. She hanged herself.”
At that, Tauri said, “Oh! Aha! Yes. Very wise!”
We turned to him.
“What do you mean, sir?” I asked.
“Oh, well—conditioning someone with the web is not a terribly exact method,” Tauri said. “The field cats get a very, very simple command put in their tiny brains—Bring me these red beans. Very simple!”
“So?” asked Fotia.
“So hanging yourself is actually pretty tricky, yes?” said Tauri. “There’s ropes, knots, beams, chairs. And more, the web only trains creatures to do repeatable actions—but hanging yourself is something you can only do once!”
“Quite right,” said Ana. She turned again to Fotia. “Can you make inquiries for us on this, dearie?”
Fotia pulled a face at that last word—there was no one less grandmotherly than Ana—but nodded. “I can. I know the servants well. I bridge the gap, I suppose, between family and labor, and can try to learn more about Sagma’s last days.”
“Then do so,” Ana said. She tilted her head, listening. “I believe you might have a visitor for now, girl. Someone very large has arrived downstairs and is talking quietly but firmly with the porter. By the timbre of his voice, I suspect it is your Grandfather Trikao. Go see to him.”
“And what of Commander Tauri and me, ma’am?” I asked.
“Rest,” she said. “Both of you. I am considering a difficult task for you, but I am unsure how it could be done.”
“Done technically,” said Tauri, “or quickly, or…”
“Or without getting you two massacred by the entire fucking town in a fit of outrage,” said Ana. She smiled primly. “So. Give me a moment to put a plan together, please.”