She almost spilled her wine. “No. When did that happen?”
“The day before yesterday. You really didn’t know? Well, your father’s away again, I suppose. And you spend too much time sealed inside that villa. How you don’t go mad with boredom is beyond me.”
Kestrel knew the captain. Oskar had dined at her house. He was a friend of her father’s, and unlike most of his friends he was jovial and well liked.
“It was an honor suicide,” Ronan said, which meant that the captain had fallen on his sword.
“But why?”
Ronan shrugged. “The pressure of his position?”
“He was captain since the colonization. He was excellent at it, and respected.”
“Personal troubles, perhaps.” Ronan spread his hands. “Really, I don’t know, and I wish I’d never brought up such a dreary topic. This day hasn’t gone at all as I had hoped. Could we please talk about something other than suicide?”
On the way home, Arin said, “Was your ride not pleasant?”
Kestrel glanced up, startled by his biting tone. She realized she had been frowning, lost in thought. “Oh, it was very nice. I’m just troubled by some news.”
“What news?”
“The captain of the city guard has killed himself.”
“Does this … grieve you? Did you know him?”
“Yes. No. Yes, I knew him, as a friend of my father’s, but not well enough to feel his death.”
“Then I don’t understand why it should concern you.”
“It concerns the whole city. There’s bound to be some disorder as the governor appoints a new captain, and the transition might not go smoothly. Oskar was very good at policing the city and his guards. That isn’t what bothers me.” Kestrel shook her head. “His suicide is the second thing to happen recently that doesn’t make sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Senator Andrax. He loves gold, to be sure, but only because it buys him comfort. Good food, mistresses. He likes bribes: easy money. He won’t sit down at a Bite and Sting table with me, he’s so afraid of losing. How could he risk everything to sell black powder to the barbarians?”
“Maybe there is a side of him you have never seen. But he has nothing to do with the captain.”
“Except that both events are strange. Oskar had no reason to commit suicide. Even the emperor had praised his performance as captain. His guards admired him. He seemed happy.”
“So? You don’t know everything. People are unhappy for many reasons.” Arin’s voice was impatient, and she thought that they were no longer talking about the captain. “What do you know of unhappiness?” he said. “What makes you think you can see into the hearts of men?”
He spurred his horse ahead, and the puzzle about the senator and the captain flew out of Kestrel’s mind as she concentrated on keeping up.
17
Kestrel’s father didn’t dismiss the captain’s death as easily as Ronan and Arin had. During the next lesson in the library, he listened to Kestrel broach the topic, his brow furrowing into deep lines.
“Did Oskar have enemies?” she asked.
“Everyone has enemies.”
“Perhaps someone made life difficult for him.”
“Or someone made him fall on his sword.” When the general saw her surprise he said, “It’s not hard to make murder look like an honor suicide.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said quietly.
“And what do you think now?”
“If it was murder, he could have been killed by someone likely to inherit his position as captain.”
Her father rested a hand on her shoulder. “The death may be only what it appears: a suicide. But I’ll discuss our concerns with the governor. This matter bears further thought.”
Kestrel, however, had little thought to spare. Enai wasn’t getting better.
“Your cough is starting to worry me,” she told her nurse as they sat near the fire in her cottage.
“I rather like it. It keeps me company. And it brings you to visit more frequently … when you are not playing Bite and Sting.”
Kestrel didn’t like the coy look on Enai’s face, or the fact that it was almost impossible to keep anything that happened in the villa private. Those games were private.
In a sharp tone, Kestrel said, “Let me send for a doctor.”
“He will only tell me that I am old.”
“Enai.”
“I don’t want to see one. Don’t try to order me around.”
That silenced Kestrel. She decided not to press the issue. After all, the feverish glaze in Enai’s eyes had vanished long ago. Kestrel, seeking to change the subject, asked about something that Arin had said. It had been like a needle in a dark part of her mind, stitching invisible patterns. “Did the Herrani enjoy trading with Valorians before the war?”