Beyond the Shadows - Brent Weeks [84]
He should have known. The concubines had probably learned that Garoth’s body had been recovered even before Dorian had. For the Godking’s bodyguards, the recovery meant a small reclamation of honor. To the concubines, it meant death.
The former Godking’s wives would be expected to join him on his pyre. Only the virgins and the concubines the next Godking desired would be spared. Dorian had said he was claiming no one. The women thought they would all be burned.
“When did you figure it out, Hopper?”
“Your Holiness?” Hopper asked. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”
“Try again.”
Hopper cleared his throat, fearful. “I was with the rest of the concubines. Pricia came into this room to fetch something. I had no idea—”
“Try. Again,” Dorian said coldly.
Hopper searched Dorian’s face, his eyes wide, panicky. He must have seen something that satisfied him, because he said, “Ah.” The mask of fear dissolved and he bowed. “I knew you were an Ursuul after I told you that you seemed different. An eccentric slave would continue as before. A pretender would redouble his efforts to appear servile.”
“What is your position within the Godking’s Hands?” Dorian asked.
“I am their chief,” Hopper said, inclining his head.
So it was as Jenine had suspected. Who better to keep an eye on the Godking’s people and secrets than a eunuch whose awkward gait made him seem a buffoon? Hopper was at the confluence of the Godking’s eunuchs, concubines and wives, and servants. Through them, he had eyes on every important Vürdmeister, aetheling, and general in the realm. “How did you really lose your toes?” Dorian asked.
“When His Holiness your father offered me the position, he said that would be part of the price. I welcomed the chance to make such a sacrifice.” He smiled ruefully. “Being gelded, on the other hand, wasn’t so welcome.”
“He offered? Did you have the option to refuse?”
“Yes. His Holiness was always fair with us.”
It was a new side to Garoth Ursuul, a kinder side than Dorian had known. It was unsettling. “Why didn’t you expose me?”
“Because I didn’t have anyone to report to, and I didn’t know what you were trying to accomplish. By the time I did, you had accomplished it. It was, if you will pardon my presumption, one of my few failures as Chief of the Hands.”
No wonder he didn’t know what I intended. I didn’t intend it.
Hopper swallowed. “Your Holiness, I suspect some of the aethelings and Vürdmeisters know what I am. I guard against mundane spying, but I have not the means to stop their vir.”
It was astonishing how Dorian had blundered into success. He’d kept Hopper in the throne room the day he had seized power. The Vürdmeisters had come into the room and had seen not only a fearless Dorian, but Hopper off to one side, tacitly endorsing him. How much weight had that carried?
Dorian suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He suspected it was a lot.
He looked again at Pricia’s body dangling in the room. Death was so common here that life wasn’t considered sacred. Or did the cause and effect run the other way?
“What is your name, Hopper? Your real name.”
“I was ordered to forget—I’m sorry, sire, my name was Vondeas Hil.”
“I thought Clan Hil was annihilated.” Garoth had used the krul to wipe them out.
“The Godking saved me from . . .” he hesitated. “From the fleshpots. He thought I had potential. I did my best to prove him right.”
The fleshpots. So the krul and their feeding habits were no great secret.
“Vondeas Hil, I will remember your name and the sacrifices you have made. Will you serve me as the Chief of my Hands?”
Vondeas bowed low.
“I have questions for you. Where are my two hundred missing Vürdmeisters?”
“Vürdmeister Neph Dada sounded a religious summons when His Holiness your father died. He called all Vürdmeisters to help him bring Khali home. Currently, your Hands believe them to be in your eastern lands.”
Eastern Khalidor