Red Tide by Marc Turner Page A

she now? Did she go with him on the Hunt?”
    â€œI believe so. I thought that strange at the time.…” Silvar paused again to give Ebon a chance to explain, then went on, “When Rendale arrived at the embassy, he was in poor shape. I told him to stay here until he recovered, but he wouldn’t listen. He wanted to go home—at least as far as Mander. So I made arrangements to smuggle him out of the city.”
    Smuggle? “Did the Merceriens know he was here, then?”
    â€œI didn’t think so. But in view of your history with Prince Ocarn, I thought it best not to take chances.”
    Ebon nodded. He could see where this was heading. “What happened?”
    â€œThe Merceriens were waiting for Rendale when he left the embassy. Ocarn himself, in fact. Your brother hadn’t taken even a dozen steps—”
    â€œHow did Ocarn know he was here?”
    Silvar clasped his hands together. “I wish I knew. Someone must have seen him when he arrived at the embassy.”
    â€œSomeone aside from yourself, you mean.” Ebon made no effort to keep the edge from his voice. There would have been a constant flow of people entering and leaving Majack’s embassy, why should Rendale have caught anyone’s eye? There could be only a handful of people in Mercerie who would recognize his face. And what were the chances that one of them had been watching the embassy when he got here?
    â€œI don’t know what you’re suggesting,” Silvar said stiffly. “Only a few of my staff were aware who your brother was, and I can vouch for their integrity.”
    And who is going to vouch for yours? Ebon studied the ambassador. Silvar was a lifelong companion of his father’s, so his loyalty should have been beyond question. Yet the man’s unease in Ebon’s presence went beyond the discomfort of someone forced into being the bearer of bad news. It would have been easy for Silvar to act the friend to Rendale while simultaneously passing a message to Ocarn. But what would have been his motive? Money? His lifestyle here would clearly take some maintaining.
    Ebon pushed the questions aside. What was the point in speculating? The odds of him proving anything against Silvar were slim, and he had better things to do than hang around Mercerie to try.
    The silence drew out, and the ambassador moved hurriedly to fill it. “When I found out that Ocarn had taken your brother, I went to the palace to protest. But my objections were ignored.”
    â€œYou sent word to Majack of what happened?”
    â€œOf course. By three separate messengers, in fact. Beyond that, I don’t see what I could have done. Or what I should have done, indeed. Ocarn might count you his enemy, but he has no quarrel with your brother. Even if he did, his father would never allow a Galitian prince to come to harm.” His voice turned beseeching. “There was no way of predicting that Ocarn would invite Rendale on his ship for the Hunt. Or what would happen on Dragon Day when he did.”
    The ambassador was right, of course, but that didn’t make his words any easier to hear. The improbability of it all left Ebon with a feeling of … injustice. “What did happen on Dragon Day? All I’ve heard is rumors.”
    â€œThen you know as much as I do. Ocarn has not returned to shed light on it, nor has anyone docked here who took part in the Hunt.” Silvar must have realized how little room for hope that left, for he added, “But if anyone is going to have survived the Hunt, it is Prince Ocarn Dasuki. He’s taken part in every Dragon Day for the last dozen years, and never once has he come close to locking horns with a dragon. His ship would have been stationed far from the Dragon Gate.…”
    The ambassador’s voice trailed off, but it took a moment for Ebon to register why.
    Footfalls behind him—from the hallway he’d passed along earlier. He