Garlud took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You have spoken in riddles from the moment I came in here. For almost forty summers—since we were boys together—we have been more like brothers than friends. For that reason, if no other, I believe I am entitled to an explanation instead of badgering and half-veiled threats."
Jaltor's face darkened. "I'm the one who demands an explanation! Why did you set Heglar to attempt my life this afternoon?"
"I—set...."
"Do you deny," thundered the king, "that this very morning you held a long and carefully guarded conversation with Heglar in an ante-room outside my audience hall?"
"It is true that I spoke with him this morning," Garlud said slowly. "We did not talk for long, nor were we 'guarded' about it."
"I see!" Jaltor's tone was triumphant. "And what did the two of you talk about?"
"He sought me out as I entered the room on my way to the audience chamber. He drew me into a corner and asked if I had had word from Jotan, my son, recently. I told him I had not, but that I expected him to return within half a moon, perhaps even sooner."
Understanding dawned suddenly in Garlud's face and he added: "I wondered then why he drew me aside to ask the question, but at the time I thought little about it."
"And now?" Jaltor urged mockingly.
"I am beginning to see he had a reason of his own."