The Thane obviously relished the disbelief and chastened discomfort of those seated with and behind him. Smiling wryly at Pran, he said, ‘I understand that you resigned your commission a year and some months ago. Would that have had anything to do with Malina’s banishment?’
Malina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Pran?
With a dismissing gesture, the Thane said, ‘You do not have to answer that.’
‘I will answer, if I may,’ said Pran very quietly, seating himself once more. ‘The answer, which you obviously have suspected, is this; to test my loyalty, my instructions were to not only banish Malina, but to kill her, and to tell no one.’
There was a long moment of silence, not all of it guilty. Eventually, the Thane nodded. To the room in general he said, ‘Hear you? Have I not said, repeatedly, that it has ever been the most loyal, the most trusting, who are in the greatest danger of being misled and betrayed? You have only to commit one vile act, believing it to be merely a test of your loyalty or your friendship, and you are lost, both to yourselves and to your fellows. No true friend or Sovereign or deity would ever ask that you do such a thing.’ It was clear that the Thane spoke for the benefit of only a few persons in the room; several had appeared thwarted by Pran’s words, others guarded, as though their plans had either failed, or gone awry, and might possibly carry unforseen repercussions.