David Drake - The Gods Return

But it seems to me that it'll leave you with an awful lot of people to punish." Zettin relaxed slightly. The activities of the compound, construction and ordinary business alike, had stilled in a widening arc around him and Ingens. The staff of Halgran Mercantile was taking a break from work to be entertained by what might turn into a blood sport. "Go on, Ingens," Zettin said. "But this time tell meevery thing that happened." "Yes," Ingens said and swallowed. "Yes, milord." He closed his eyes, then opened them and resumed, "We reached the village of Caraman which was supposed to be the source of the saffron. It turned out it was brought to Caraman from farther away." "Farther how?" said Zettin, frowning. "From across the Outer Sea, you mean?"

"Milord, I truly don't know where they came from," Ingens said. "I didn't see a ship. The local people said to ring the gong in the grove on the east road out of Caraman. That's away from the sea and up on a hill besides. So we rang it, and a woman came out of the trees. That was Princess Perrine." "And she had the spice with her?" Zettin said.

He took his right hand away from the sword hilt, instead hooking the thumb under his belt. "Just a sample, milord," the secretary said.

"She talked with Hervir privately. He directed me and the guards to stay where we were while he walked with the young lady in the grove.

She was quite attractive and richly dressed." "How long had the gong been there?" Ilna said. The men had forgotten her; their heads turned with expressions of surprise. "Mistress," said Ingens, "the villagers said it was just since the Change. A prince came from the grove with six apes who wore clothing and carried saffron in stoneware jars. He sold it and said there was more for anyone who called him with the gong." "Sold for how much?" Ilna said. "In Barca's Hamlet the only people who had any amount of silver were merchants who came during the Sheep Fair. But this spice of yours sells for gold, doesn't it?" "Yes, mistress," Ingens said with a look of respect. He'd shown fear when Ilna read his history in the cloth of his tunic, but this was something else again. "The prince took copper and silver, the villagers swore. If that's true, then he can't have gotten but a tenth of the saffron's real value. That's why Hervir was so excited at the prospect." "Did Hervir make a deal with this princess?" Zettin asked.

"You know, I can't understand why you concealed all this previously, Ingens. You needn't think that your behavior is going to be ignored, you know." "Milord, you'll do what you do," Ingens muttered toward the ground. "I've been a loyal servant of Halgran Mercantile for seven years. I was simply trying to save… awkwardness for Master Hervir and for your noble sister." "Well, I see your point, my man," Zettin said with a touch of embarrassment. "You should certainly have come to me privately, but I don't suppose anything would be gained by rubbing my sister's nose in a business that would be distasteful to her." He cleared his throat. "Go on, then," he said. "Did Hervir continue to see this so-called princess?" "I don't know that for certain, milord,"

Ingens said, "but that's what I believe, yes. Hervir had rented the chief's house for a few bronze pieces. He and I slept there, while the guards-we had six of them-slept in a drying shed for fish. There was little enough to choose between the lodgings, I must say." Ingens licked his lips; fear dries them worse than a desert wind, and he'd had good reason to be afraid. Ilna was impressed by the way Ingens had deflected Lord Zettin's anger; but though she was sure that he hadn't made away with Hervir, she was also sure that he wasn't telling the whole truth. She decided not to pursue the matter, at least now.

Zettin's temper was still balanced on a knife-edge. Ilna's lips quirked in a humorless smile. She'd once woven a pattern which caused everyone who saw it to tell the truth. She'd done it as punishment for the house it hung in, and even she had been shocked by how effective it had been. "I woke up in the night," the secretary said. "I thought I'd heard the gong again. I looked in Master Hervir's room and found him gone with the money. I went to the grove but he wasn't there, either. Then I roused the guards and we made a full search, but we still didn't find anything." "Did you ring the gong?" Ilna said. "That would seem to be the obvious next step." "Ah…," said Ingens, turning his face sideways and looking at the ground again. "I did, yes, mistress, for several days. It didn't seem to me… That is, it seemed to me that my first duty was to bring word back to Lady Zussa and Mistress Raciana as soon as possible. But of course I intend to pursue all avenues to a solution when I'm back in Caraman." Ilna's face remained blank while her mind tried to unknot the truth of the secretary's tale. It'd be simple enough to assume that Ingens was a coward who'd run rather than endanger himself, but that wouldn't explain why he was going back to find his master of his own will.

"What do you expect to accomplish that you couldn't have done when you were in Caraman the first time?" Zettin said, putting his finger on the same point. His eyes were narrowed, but his hand hadn't returned to his sword. "I'll hire a full troop of Blaise armsmen when I get to Piscine, twenty at least," Ingens said promptly. "I have a draft on our agent there for the money. The guards we had with us were fine as a normal escort, but I'll want real soldiers to back me if Iexpect trouble. The whole village may be in league with Princess Perrine, you know." The explanation was perfectly reasonable. Another person might've proceeded in a different fashion, but Ilna couldn't fault the fellow's logic. He was lying, though. She was as sure of that as she was of sunset. "I really believe I'll be able to do a better job without…," Ingens said earnestly. "That is, by myself." "Don't be a fool, man," Zettin said irritably. He turned to Ilna and said,

"Mistress, how long will it take you to prepare for the journey?" Ilna shrugged. "I'll pack a spare tunic and I suppose a cloak," she said.

"And I'll tell Mistress Winora that I'll be travelling. She really runs the Society; I'm just a boogieman. I can serve that purpose from Blaise or wherever, so long as they're afraid that I might come back."

"Mistress?" said Zettin. Isn't it obvious? Ilna snarled in her mind; but it hadn't been obvious to Zettin or he wouldn't have asked the question. Calmly she said, "The staff, and I include Winora in this, will sort out their own differences quickly and quietly in order to keep me from hearing about trouble." "Ah!" said Zettin. "Because they respect you and don't want to disturb you." "No, Master Zettin," Ilna said. "Because they're terrified of what I might do if I became angry.

Since that concerns me also, I'll be just as glad to be away from Pandah while things are still being organized." She looked at Ingens.

From his expression, he'd understood what she was saying-better than Zettin had, at any rate. She'd frightened him badly by what she'd learned by touching his tunic. That meant the secretary had something to hide, but almost everyone had things to hide. Ilna herself didn't.

Ilna didn't have anything at all. "I'll…," Ingens said. "We'll leave at midmorning, from Krumlin's wharf on the river, then. The boat I've engaged is theBird of the River. If that's all right with you, mistress." "Yes," said Ilna, turning away. "Certainly." A commotion approached from the direction of the compound's gate. One of Lady Liane's attendants-Ilna didn't recall his face, but the collar of his outer tunic was embroidered with a pattern she'd seen only on Third Atara-was striding toward them, followed by a squawking bevy of clerks. The watchman hobbled along behind, cupping his groin with both hands. "Lord Zettin," the courier said, "I'm sorry for the bother-" He glanced over his shoulder. The clerks chirped in fear. The watchman glared, but he stopped also. "-but it isn't for sweepers and the like to tell Prince Garric's messenger to wait." Ilna eyed the man. He was younger than most of Liane's people, sure of himself-with reason-but not experienced enough to know that there were other people who were also rightly confident. He'd learn, probably sooner rather than later judging from his attitude. If he survived, he'd be better at his work in the future. Ifhe survived. The courier bowed. "His highness," he said, "requests your presence and that of Mistress Ilna-" He dipped his head in further acknowledgment. "-at an immediate council meeting in his suite." "Yes, all right," Zettin said. His face blanked.