Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [136]
“I knew it!” Simna burst out. He glared murderously at his tall friend. “There was treasure all along! You’ve been lying to me—but I never believed you, you sanctimonious southern scion of a promiscuous porker!”
Honestly baffled, Ehomba gaped at his friend. “Simna, I do not know what you are talking about.” He nodded as best he was able in Beckwith’s direction. “I do not know what he is talking about.”
“But I do know—now! At last I understand. Oh, you were so subtle, you were, so adept at parrying my questions about ‘treasure.’” Turning sharply away from the herdsman, Simna ibn Sind gazed expectantly at the throne. “There’s a reward, isn’t there? For information about your son. That’s the treasure!”
A wary Bewaryn Beckwith nodded slowly. “There has been for months. Knowledge of it was spread far and wide in hopes of securing some information as to Tarin’s whereabouts. This good merchant earns it by dint of the invaluable information he has brought me. I am only thankful that he arrived in time to tell me the truth of how things really are, and to inform me of your nefarious intentions.” His attention shifted back to Ehomba. “It is clear you not only murdered my son, but intended to claim the reward for bringing us the news of his death. Simple man that I am, I cannot conceive of such incredible arrogance.”
“Hoy, I can, noble sir!” Not only was an obviously outraged Simna not finished, he appeared to be just warming up. “For weeks I have been attending to this mumbling, stone-faced charlatan, seeing to his needs, waiting upon his desires, helping to protect him from all manner of difficulties and dangers. I did this of my own free will because in my heart I knew he was after treasure. I could smell it in his words, sense it in the way he stared at the far horizons. And, humbly avaricious fellow that I am, I wanted a piece of that treasure for myself. That was all I was interested in: I admit it. Condemn me for my confession if you will, but give me credit at least for my honesty. I am ashamed to admit that it never bothered me that he killed the man who inspired him to come all this way. Your son, noble sir.”
Ehomba’s jaw dropped in utter disbelief. “Simna!”
The swordsman sneered at him, “‘Simna’? What is this use of my name to express outrage? Am I now reduced to nothing more than a surprised expletive? ‘Simna’ yourself, you fakir, you champion of lies, you user of honest men. You fooled everyone, even the cat, but you can’t fool me any longer!” Straining against the ropes that enveloped him, he struggled to bow in the direction of the throne. It required considerable flexibility and effort.
“Sire, Count Beckwith, I abjure this deceptive and conniving villain now and for all time! I was wrong to think the treasure that I knew he sought could be come by honestly, but you must see, you have to see, that I could not have suspected otherwise. He is a master of deviousness, which he cleverly masks with a studied attitude of simple affability. Free me, give me back my life, and I will tell you everything! I see now that there never was any treasure in this for me, fool that I was.”
Beckwith stared hard at the bound swordsman, the fingers of one hand tap-tapping against the arm of the throne. “Why should I let you go? You have nothing to give me.” He nodded in the merchant’s direction. “This good gentleman has already told me everything.”
“Impossible, sire! He can only have told you what his ancient employee told him. Only I have traveled in this prevaricator’s misbegotten company since near the very start of his journey. Only I have been privy to all of his plans and intentions.” He lowered his head and his voice. “Besides the murderer himself, only I know the most intimate details of your son’s death.”
To his credit, bin Grue’s expression never changed. “He’s lying,” the merchant avowed brusquely.
“Lying?” Bewaryn Beckwith eyed the foreign trader thoughtfully. “Lying about what? Are you saying that perhaps this stranger was not responsible for the death of my son?”
“No, sire, of course