absent assassin 13

 my excuse today was that Kindle whined at me about the de Curtney house plan in Cavalier Approach paperback so I spent a couple of hours re-doing it....

I have also updated the Kindle version so if you wanted it, give it a couple of days for the new map to embedd...

Chapter 13

 

Lord Idis met Quester early in the morning when he came over to question Lady Lyra.

“My Lord, it is good of you to trust me with Lady Lyra in light of the attempt upon your life last night,” he said. “It did not sink in at the time how heinous... What can I do to show that my household has no designs upon your person?”

Quester smiled grimly.

“I have sent in a report already exonerating you from blame. I am well capable of reading a man, and your integrity is plainly absolute.”

“Thank you, my lord, that means a great deal to me.”

“I have also made a report that this attempt on my life is a confirmation of the complaints of piracy and smuggling, since having declared an intent to stamp it out,” said Quester. “There has been some attempt to confuse the issue.”

“And easier if there is a traitor on the council; a horrible thing to have to contemplate,” said Idis.

“Indeed, but better faced than ignored,” said Quester, feeling fatuous in saying so. Idis had that effect on him.

“Oh, yes, quite so, quite so. However much one may dislike the idea of suspecting others of one’s own... though some are easier to picture in the role than others,” said Idis.

“And I need to question Lady Lyra about her husband’s death, if only to clear her of having any foreknowledge, because it would be as well to discover whether it is connected to him reporting the smugglers or whether it is merely a sordid matter of a woman having her husband killed because of wanting to take a lover,” said Quester.

“Dear me, that would have clouded the issue,” said Idis. He hesitated. “My lord, I hope you think I did the right thing; I... normally I would have confined the lady in a locked, but comfortable room. But since she has offended you, and has difficulty understanding how much trouble she is in, I have placed her in a cell I use for any indentured servant who has behaved badly, to impress on them the majesty of the empire. It is very basic, and there is only one painting, showing the games, as a suggestion that this is an option for a recalcitrant offender.”

“I see; yes, it is to be hoped that it will be a chastening experience,” said Quester. “You should, however, have a second picture; one of the Blessed Abe to whom a sinner can pray.”

“Of course, of course; I should have thought of it,” said Idis.

“I can’t say I am looking forward to this; the lady has no idea of her relative lack of status, it seems,” sighed Quester.

“Perhaps you would like me to explain this to her first, before you question her?” asked Idis. “She knows me as a fair man.  I... I would plead that her understanding is not of the highest, and she has been over-indulged all her life. My sister, Lady Alcithoa Dimitra Arkada, who married into the family, is concerned that you will judge her as if she were wilfully rude, not merely....”

“She is wilfully offensive and defamatory, Lord Idris, and if that is the fault of her family for indulging her, then her family will have to take the consequence for not having curbed her outrageous comments and her temper. Whose family sired her?”

“Lyra Spyra Arkada is the daughter of Spyros Minyan Peleos, and her brother is Minyas Spyron Peleos, the current lord Peleos. Spyros indulged his wife and daughter a great deal, and when he died, Alcippa Pandarea Peleoa went with her young daughter, then fourteen, to live with her brother, Theodrakis Pandareon Poltronis.”

“Father of Anastas Theodrakon Poltronis?” said Quester.

“Yes, indeed... dear me, it does smack rather of incest, does it not?” said Idris, unhappily.

“And throws doubt upon the paternal identity of the late Orionis Aristidon Arkadis, if Lyra was married off for being pregnant with the child of her cousin,” said Quester.

“All of us are interrelated to some degree, of course,” said Idris.

“Yes, and I am sure you will support the betrothal of Lady Arkada to an outsider,” said Quester.

Idris’s eyes widened. It was plain that he thought that Quester meant himself; and Quester had no intention of disabusing him of this fact if not asked outright.

“Oh! Yes, most certainly,” he said. “I will move for a law that makes it possible for a family head to marry someone outside of the islands, or even someone not born a patrician, in order to be certain to avoid consanguinity.”

“A wise move,” said Quester.

 

“Lyra,” said Lord Idis.

“Peleus! Let me out of here! That horrid little man and his whore....”

There was the sound of a slap. Quester raised an eyebrow. Idis was sufficiently afraid of him to step outside his concept of how to treat a lady.

“Listen, Lyra, and listen hard for once in your life,” said Idis, grimly. “I turned down marriage to you because I thought you a spoilt little idiot, and I suspected you were used goods. And now you are risking being put to the question – that means torture, you little fool – because of your attitude. Get into your pretty if vacant head that this man you call a horrid little man has as much power over you and over me as we have over the peasants. In fact, more. And grow a few sensible thoughts and co-operate enough to answer his questions, and if it means that you hang or go to the arena, it’s better than being tortured first.”

“But he can’t torture me! Elena won’t let him! I’m first lady of the first family!”

“He can, and Elena can do nothing to stop him. I can do nothing to stop him. You have insulted his young assistant, who is, as far as I can see, young enough for your suggestions to be offensive to any decent person.  Now grow up for once in  your life and tell him the truth, and if, Abe help you, you’re involved at all in the smuggling and piracy as well as in killing your husband, try to accept your fate with dignity, and do all you can to help him to mitigate any punishment.”

“But... but people don’t punish me, I was Papa’s Angel, and I had a girl who was whipped for me,” said Lyra. “Send for my maid, Peleus, he can torture her instead.”

“It doesn’t work like that in the real world, whatever sort of an idiot your father was,” said Idis, appalled. “I knew you were a fool, Lyra, but I didn’t realise you were wanting! If you won’t let me help you, I fear you will have to deal with the consequences.”

He left.

“I fear I am not sure she is fully cognizant yet,” he said.

“Let me try,” said Kiliana. “I want a brazier and some scary looking tools.”

Lord Idis blinked.

“My dear young lady....”

“It is a valid tactic,” said Quester. “But be dispassionate, my dear, rather than eager for vengeance.”

“I’ll, er, find what you want... and get your new boots, my lord,” said Idis. “My cobbler sat up overnight to complete them.”

“That was very kind of him... permit me...” Quester wrote out a chit to give material thanks to the cobbler.

 

Servants carried in the brazier and tools. Kiliana, hood up, strode in after them.

“You might as well get undressed whilst I am kindling the brazier to heat irons,” she said. “It’s so unprofessional to burn clothes, and I have no desire to have to undress you.”

“I sh... shan’t!”

“Oh?  The Ogroid can undress you then, if you don’t want to do this the easy way,” said Kiliana.

“You whore, you can’t do this!” Lyra advanced on Kiliana.

“Your names do not touch me; a Justiciar does not fear vilification for carrying out duty,” said Kiliana, indifferently. She caught the woman’s slapping hand, and put her down. “I can do this all day, you know, and all you get are a few extra bruises. Have you a preference for where you want to be burned? The places that show least are usually more painful, but it’s your choice.”

Lady Lyra fell apart at this point and curled up on herself, sobbing.

Quester came in.

“Lyra Peleoa,” he said, “My assistant is perhaps a little premature. I am sure you would like to tell me how you plotted with Anastas Poltronis, your sometime lover, to kill your husband. Did you know he planned to kill your son as well, and that it was a plot to cover his smuggling and piracy?”

Lyra sobbed.

“Oh! I didn’t know anything!” she wailed.  “Anastas said that there was a rogue Assassin who planned to kill Aristidus, and all I had to do was to go along with anything he said, and it would be all right, and then he could marry Elena, and be first among equals and remain my lover whilst Elena was kept busy being pregnant all the time, and given drugs to stop her questioning!”

“You are quite loathesome,” said Quester. “Unfortunately for me, I believe you, which means I am unlikely to get any information from you at all. You don’t have enough intellect to lie, or even to think through what you or other people do or say. You have, however, called the Judiciary into disrepute by your ill-famed remarks about my young and innocent assistant. You will go to the nearest religious house and serve there as a penitent lay servant for three years, praying to the Blessed Abe to teach you how to curb your tongue.”

The religieuses would not take any nonsense from her.

He turned to Idis.

“I think you are merciful, my lord,” said Idis.

“Let it be recorded that I fine the houses of Peleus and Arkadis an equal sum to cover the plain garb of a lay servant and the keep of one for the time in which she is in the religious institution,” said Quester. “Arrange it; if I do not know to which institution she has been sent, I cannot mention it, and no ill-planned rescue attempt can be made.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Idis. He reflected that this was his punishment for permitting the attempt on the Justiciar, and it was a mild imposition.

In this, he was incorrect, as Quester merely felt that it was a suitable act of delegation to the most able person around.

 

oOoOo

 

“There wasn’t much the servants knew, sah,” said Burdock. “Cuh, Miss Kiliana, you frightened them good an’ proper. They was ready to co-operate all right after that!”

“You know it was all a bluff, Burdock?” said Kiliana, anxiously.

“’Course I do! But I wasn’t gonna tell them, was I?” said Burdock. “All they knowed, though, was that A-Nasty Poltroon’s servant didn’t leave the cloakroom until just before we left the ball. But it ain’t conclusive, is it?”

“No, Burdock, it isn’t,” sighed Quester. “Any more than Poltronis telling Lady Lyra that a rogue assassin was after her husband is conclusive. All he has to do is to explain that this was something he heard, and that she misunderstood what was, in fact, a warning to her to pass on. Her understanding is not superior, I fear, and it is easy to say that she misunderstood.”

“I heard she was dead stupid, sah,” said Burdock.

“Well, yes, I was being tactful so as not to put it so bluntly to Lady Arkada,” sighed Quester, who privately thought that Lady Lyra was less mentally able than an average Ogroid, let alone Burdock.

 

Elena was waiting.

“My mother?” she asked, bluntly.

“Your mother will serve three years as a lay servant in a religious institution and I am fining your family and her birth family the cost of her keep and suitable outfitting,” said Quester, harshly. “She talked after threats, and she is too mentally limited to lie. Unfortunately she is also too mentally limited to be able to give me anything concrete on which to act.  It adds to the slowly mounting evidence, including the attempt to kill me last night, but I need something more on which to act.”

Elena gasped.

“I did not know anyone had attempted to kill you!” she said. “Is that why Idis’s dogs were baying, chasing someone?”

“Something like that,” said Quester. “The attempt was unsuccessful, but the party involved does not yet know that. I want it to remain that way. I will go to the arena this afternoon, and see if I can surprise anyone.”

“I see,” said Elena. “Perhaps if you come cloaked,  you can remove it at a good strategic moment, being supposedly in Lucius’s party.”

“That makes sense,” said Quester. “Thank you for your continued support despite my need to have your mother punished.”

“I have tried to curb her unruly tongue, but as her daughter, my words have had no weight,” said Elena. “Being head of the family does not weigh with her at all. Perhaps three unpleasant years will allow her to live a long and more pleasant life for not offending people.”

“It is to be hoped so,” said Quester.

“I don’t much appreciate being called a whore, when I’ve never slept with anyone at all,” said Kiliana. “Your mother is a nasty-tongued creature, and she projects her own sleeping around on others.”

Elena’s eyes flashed, but she pulled a rueful face.

“I have to acknowledge it; but she is still my mother, even if we do not get on well.”

“You should look at it that she has betrayed your whole family in not acknowledging your leadership, and in trying to bring anyone associated with her into disrepute,” said Quester, icily. “It was why I set the fine. It is, as far as both families are concerned, a nominal sum. But it also absolves both families from the moment it is paid. I asked Lord Idis as a neutral party to administer the arrangements.”

“I see. Thank you for explaining that,” said Elena. “To which nunnery has she been taken?”

“I left that to the local ecclesiarchy,” said Quester. “I don’t want to know.”

“Anastas Poltronis asked me where she was,” said Elena.

“Oh, you may tell him that she has withdrawn to a cloistered life, if you imply that it was done last night, and do not mention my state of unharmed.”

“And if he asks about you?”

“Say that there was an attack upon me last night, and that you had been unable to ascertain the extent of my injuries,” said Quester.

“You lie very cleverly with the truth,” said Elena.

“I am waiting for backup; but for now I am one man with two assistants, one of them a ward of the empire for his race, the other of tender years. I am not about to risk an arrest or their lives.”

“But you don’t mind risking mine?”

“My dear Lady Arkada, you are the head of a powerful family. You should be capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Ah, of course; being head of the family removes from me any need for chivalry.”

“Quite so,” said Quester.

 

absent assassin 12

 

Chapter 12

 

Quester had been dancing with Elena when Lady Lyra’s rather nasal voice rose in whining vituperation.

He frowned, and his mouth thinned. Elena winced.

“Your mother has gone too far, I am afraid,” he said, grimly. “I cannot permit this to pass.”

Elena sighed. She could see no way of extricating her mother from this piece of foolishness.

“I am sorry, my lord. What can I do to mitigate her behaviour? I have tried to explain to her that she has no jurisdiction over you or your assistants, but she is too used to having her own way.”

 “To be honest, I want to use the excuse of her attack on my assistant to ask her how much she knew about your father’s murder,” said Quester.

Elena’s eyes mirrored the shock she plainly felt.

“I... I could wish she was not tortured....” she said. “But if you think there is reason to ask, I want to know. I was very close to Papa.”

“I despise torture,” said Quester. “But the threat of it – which I would carry through if I had to – does help. I will ask Lord Idis if there is some secure place where she may be held for questioning. I will invite him to attend, as a witness.”

“That makes me happier,” said Elena. “My mother and I have never been close but she is still my mother.”

Quester went over to the knot of people converging on the altercation.

“Lord Idis, a word?” he extracted his host.

“One might put it down to grief over losing a husband and son....” said Idis, lamely.

“Not when she’s all over Anastas Poltronis like a lapdog on the leg of some unfortunate visitor,” said Quester, with a snap. “I want you to hold her in your custody, if you have somewhere secure, and I will ask you to witness me questioning her on the morrow. I will not, if I can avoid it, use the rougher judicial methods.”

“I see; thank you, I will have my bodyguards confine her,” said Idis.

“I will have my bodyguard remove her, and hand her over to your guards to confine so nobody knows where she is,” said Quester.

As Burdock had given permission for the touch of Quester’s mind, Quester reached out and called for him, finding the Ogroid’s mind surprisingly well organised, better than some humans, and easier to access.

Burdock strode into the room.

“This woman is under arrest for her continuing attacks on my ward and assistant,” said Quester, coldly. “Take her away.”

Burdock saluted, after a surreptitious look for the tattoos on his right hand.

“Yes, me lud,” he said, lifting Lady Lyra from where she was having hysterics on the dance floor.

“And you can hand her to Lord Idis’s men when you are out of sight,” Quester reminded him. Idis had slid off to doubtless have some secure chamber arranged, and to send his bodyguards to collect Lady Lyra; and the  lord slid into step with Burdock as he carried the wriggling, shrieking, protesting woman gently but firmly held by her upper arms, far enough away to avoid her kicking feet.

It was an almost amusing sight, but Quester sighed.

It had put a bit of a dampener on the evening for poor Artemisia.

Who was giggling.

Oh, well, she was the sort of girl who seemed to enjoy life as it came.

He would circulate a little more, and then they might leave.

 

oOoOo

 

Quester managed to chat with both Diktis brothers, who were very cagey about naming names officially, but it was plain enough who they meant by their suspicions.

“Somebody owns his own high atmosphere balloon, you know,” said Kolis, the elder. “And you know what that means.”

“The ability to relay signals around the curvature of the earth,” said Quester, grimly. “Presumably in code, and presumably to pirates and smugglers.”

“I’d love a chance to get a look at his communications suite,” said Lycos.

“Have you ever picked up radio chatter that you can’t decipher? Apart from Imperial signals of course,” Quester added.

“Yes,” said Lycos. “I can find out if any of our fishermen have any transcriptions as well, and let you have all the recordings we have taken.”

“Thank you, that will make a lot of difference to me,” said Quester. “Unless he uses an advanced code, I may well be able to break it.”

“Good luck,” said Kolis. “I tried, once, but got nowhere.”

“If you would turn over your attempts, it may well spark an idea, and at least prevent me from covering the same ground,” said Quester.

“I’ll have a packet to pass you at the next games, tomorrow afternoon,” said Kolis. “You won’t torture my fishermen if they co-operate, will you?”

“I’m hoping not to torture anyone, but you have my assurance that unless there is good reason to think them agents of pirates or smugglers, they have nothing to fear.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Kolis.

 

oOoOo

 

Quester was about to resume his boots and cloak preparatory to returning to Elena’s house, when he wrinkled his nose.

“Burdock,” he said, “Do my boots smell unpleasant to you?”

“Your feet isn’t cheesy,” said Burdock.

“No, but my boots have an unpleasant, acrid scent to them, I think,” said Quester, bending down to sniff. “Fox urine, if I am not mistaken.” Burdock reached out to pick one up. “No! Don’t touch, kneel and sniff,” said Quester.

Burdock did as he was told and made a face.

“Dat’s one nasty practical joke,” he opined.

“Practical joke? Means of tracking me? Means to kill me?” mused Quester. “Ask Lord Idis if he will come and witness this.”

Burdock trotted off, and presently Idis came into the men’s cloakroom.

“What’s this your Ogroid tells me? Someone has doctored your boots? He seemed to think it was an attempt to kill you, poor chap, excitable people Ogroid can be.”

“I suggested it to him, actually,” said Quester, coldly. “You breed dogs, I believe, Lord Idis. I saw a number of them on guard when we arrived. Now, I may not know a lot about dogs, but I do know that fox urine makes them attack. Am I correct?”

Idis went pale.

“My lord Justiciar! Surely you do not think that I would wish to have you killed in such a way?” he cried.

“Not in the least,” said Quester. “But I think someone wished to do so, and to have the blame cast onto you, as being a thoroughly impartial man.”

“I... I find it hard to believe of any of my servants, but of course, you must question them....” Idis was upset.

“I doubt it was any of your servants, Lord Idis,” said Quester, grimly.

Idis frowned.

“But who else might it have been?” he asked, wringing his hands.

“Oh, come, man!” snapped Quester. “Half the Patricians in the islands at least have been through your house tonight, and it could have been any of them!”

“But... but they are Patricians! And neighbours!” cried Idis.

“Half the people I have to indict are Patricians; it means nothing,” snarled Quester. “I just ordered a Purge on the Patricians of Attu for having caused heresy to take hold by their poor behaviour!” this was not strictly true; he had recommended a Purge on four families who had caused the problems, but it was close enough to impress the naive older man.

Idis gaped.

“You... you believe Kolis and Lycos that there is someone on the council who supports the pirates and smugglers, then?” he said.

“I think he leads them,” said Quester. “And if I had enough proof, I would have no hesitation in putting him to the question, but I do not, and I will not act without enough proof to back me.  This act of murderous intent is another small piece of proof, but not conclusive.  Perhaps you can loan me some boots and... you had better dispose of those. I doubt the smell will ever come out. Burn them so no poor fellow in your employ is disposed to wear them and come to an unpleasant end.”

“I... yes, indeed!” said Idis. “Your feet are small for your height, will you mind wearing a youth’s boots? My son is about the same size... he will be honoured....”

“I will have them returned on the morrow,” said Quester. “And I will see about having new boots made to the same pattern.”

“I will show them to my own cobbler; I am sure he will have some ready for you soonest,” said Idis.

“Ah? Then I will transfer my feet measurements to your datatab if I may,” said Quester, for whom handmade boots made to measure was one of the few luxuries he indulged in.

 

Kiliana was waiting as Quester, in borrowed boots, and Burdock, emerged to escort her to the autogyro.

“What happened?” asked Kiliana.

“Oh, nothing much,” said Quester.

“Some’un put fox piss all over his boots to make them big dogs attack,” said Burdock.

Kiliana gasped.

“Burdock, there was no need to frighten her,” said Quester.

“I beg to disagree, my lord,” said Kiliana. “There is every need for me to be on my guard to the type of nastiness anyone might get up to, in putting you at risk.”

“She’s right, sah,” said Burdock.

Quester sighed.

“Yes, I suppose so,” he said. “But at least we know that he is out to kill me, and will stop at nothing.” He frowned. “I don’t know if there’s anything to be gained from talking to Idis’s servants, who might have seen anyone looking suspicious. Obviously you weren’t in there all the time, Burdock.”

“No, sah, but I will be in future,” said Burdock. “De servants have a sort of ongoing revel in their own rooms whilst balls is happening, takin’ turns to serve, an’ passin’ word for them as are called for by their masters or mistresses, wiv eats, and a bit o’ dancing. You c’n tell the sour old creeps, wot don’t let their servants have a bit o’ time. Wot I’ll do another time, if there’s a ball is grab a plate and sit in the cloakroom with it.”

“Thank you, Burdock; I appreciate it.  I suspect it may have been done opportunely whilst you were seeing Lady Lyra into custody.  I have to come back tomorrow and talk to her.”

“I’ll talk to the servants then, while you do, an’ see if they noticed anyfink,” said Burdock.

“Good man,” said Quester. “You may tell them that someone tried to discredit them or their master, and that it would have meant someone questioning them all roughly had the plan succeeded.”

Burdock nodded. A few flakes of dandruff were still dislodged by this, but the expensive shampoo had certainly worked wonders, and Quester was glad to purchase it for his big, loyal companion. Burdock understood very well what could have happened, and was capable to use his initiative in asking questions.

“Leo, you said it was opportunistic, but who carries fox urine around with them?” demanded Kiliana.

“Ah, you misunderstand me,” said Quester. “I suspect Poltronis or his man prepared by having some ready, knowing that Idis breeds big, fierce dogs, but the incident with Lady Lyra was one which definitely got my servant away from my clothing for a while. If I thought Lyra capable of acting, I might have wondered if the distraction were orchestrated, but I do not believe that Lyra could act her way out of a rice sack. However, Poltronis might well have anticipated that she would be likely to make some sort of scene, and that it might cause enough of a distraction.”

“I see,” said Kiliana. “And his man perhaps holding it, ready to doctor your boots if Burdock left for any reason.  A loose plan.”

“And a man who can make loose plans is a dangerous one,” said Quester.

“Leo,” said Kiliana, “We are leaving early. Do you suppose we should ask Lord Idis to do something to make the dogs make a fuss? So Poltronis thinks he was successful? We might catch him out in something he says if he sees you alive.”

“I... it’s a thought,” said Quester.

“I’ll pass on your suggestion to have them fed a treat so they bay good and loud,” said Burdock, slipping off.

Quester and Kiliana climbed into the autogyro and were joined a few minutes later by Burdock.

A few dog handlers came out, and threw something around, and gave a command to the dogs that they might eat whatever it was.

They fell on the titbit, baying happily.

“Our cue to leave,” said Quester. “You can come back for Lady Arkada,” he added to the pilot.

 

oOoOo

 

Back in his chamber, Quester gladly stripped off the ball clothes and put on pyjamas and a robe; Kiliana was, he knew, doing the same. They met in the outer room as Burdock brought coffee. Kiliana handed the box of jewels to Quester.

“My dear child! I assumed you would keep them,” said Quester.

“It’s not a gift, it’s a disguise,” said Kiliana. “A man only makes a gift of such things to his mistress or his betrothed wife.”

“Then I wish you will retain the disguise for now, as you may need it again,” said Quester.

“Very well,” said Kiliana. “I will wear the nail covers from it tomorrow as if I still had the temporary nails on.”

“It seems very uncomfortable,” said Quester.

“It is,” said Kiliana. “It was nice to be glamorous for an evening, but I kept catching them on things. Artemisia gave me some pointers on how not to catch my nails. She’s really nice; I thought I might write to her when we’ve done here.”

“Yes, it will be good for you to have a female friend,” said Quester. “But as well to continue pretending you have long nails and are a useless Patrician girl.”

“I bubbled and giggled at a number of silly boys,” said Kiliana. “I learned quite a lot of minor illegalities which go on, which you can hit the council with, because most of the Patricians don’t count income from the games as taxable, and they all have shares in it.”

“Well, we are attending the games tomorrow afternoon, we shall do an audit,” said Quester. “Anything else?”

“Well, everyone is discussing the comments you made,” said Kiliana. “There’s a level of fear as an undercurrent. Some of them might know something, but they are afraid to say anything for fear of not being believed that they only know a little, afraid of torture from you on the one hand, and torture and death on the other from the king of the pirates, who will punish anyone who talks.”

“Now, that is very interesting,” said Quester, in satisfaction.

 

absent assassin 11

 oh my!  I woke up with a ladder going up by my bedroom window.  Blearily I made a dressing-gown clad way to ask when the boys wanted tea [I wasn't expecting them back until Friday] and Darren said, 'never mind that, Sarah mate, it's going to blow and rain and we have a window of opportunity to get some done." they got here not long after it was light enough and got away before the hail.  And I forgot everything else. Sorry. I'm not doing too well in the concentration stakes I'm afraid. 

Chapter 11

 

The abode of Lord Idis was not in the classical style of public buildings, nor was it in the vernacular architecture like the house of the Arkadi family, but built after the Gothic manner made popular by having been associated with the God-Hero, emulating the oldest building on the five islands of Nyork, at Greenwood. Quester had seen the style executed worse; he had also seen it made much better. The synthetic gothic style was unfortunately unsuited to concrete, and bore a distinct air of the early ghastly, especially as the gargoyles [standard Empire pattern two] lurched from the roof in a manner which was more inebriated than intimidating.

“Whatever the Lord Idis who had this built paid for it, he was robbed,” said Kiliana, critically.

“Yeah,” said Burdock. “He has a lot of dogs.” He indicated several large shapes in the shadows.

“Lord Idis is in the business of breeding guard dogs,” said Quester. “They appear well-trained, not approaching those who come on sanctioned business by helipad. But note, they shadow us as we approach the door.”

They were announced by a grand major-domo.

Lord Idis came to shake Quester’s hand.

“Good of you to come and put an official seal of approval on the match, my lord!” he said, pumping Quester’s hand too enthusiastically. “What do you think of my lovely abode, eh? A bit different to the other places, which all look the same.”

“I must say, it’s a remarkable synthesis of traditional Imperial style with modern materials, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it,” said Quester.

“I knew a man from the Central Islands would like it,” said Idis, with naive pleasure.

“It’s an unequivocal paradigm of the compromise between the ancient and the modern,” said Kiliana, gravely.

Idis beamed.

“Come and meet my daughter, and her intended.” He led Quester and Kiliana over to the young girl who was fortunate enough not to resemble him too closely, since his ears stuck out rather. Burdock had gone with other servants.

“Artemisia, my dear, Justiciar Quester, and Lady Kiliana... are you need of being formally introduced?” he asked Kiliana.

“I’d just as soon be informal with another girl,” said Kiliana.

“Splendid!” said Idis. “Lycos, my dear boy, Lord Quester will doubtless like to chat to you about piracy, but do recall that the ball is in yours and Artemisia’s honour, and give some attention to the guests, hmm?”

“I’d as soon discuss serious matters in a more serious setting anyway, Papa Idis,” said the young man.

“Wise,” said Quester. “Though I take it that you back your brother in deploring the piracy and smuggling?”

“Oh, Void, yes,” said Lycos. He waited as Lord Idis withdrew. “My father-in-law does not want to accept that some of us have our suspicions; he feels that the position of a member of the twenty-one conveys an unassailable level of honesty and integrity. He’s painfully honest himself, and he can’t imagine such a betrayal.”

“I take it he would be willing to act, however, if proof was brought?” said Quester.

“He’d be at the head of those wanting to lynch Pol... the person my brother and I suspect.”

“I have heard a name mentioned,” said Quester. “But you are wise not to speak it without proof.”

“Lady Lyra Arkada makes a fool of herself over him, and there is gossip that she incited him to kill her husband, but  it’s also without proof,” said Artemisia.

Her gown followed fashion more closely than Kiliana’s, without making the younger girl look in any way dowdy; she wore a series of layers in decreasingly dark colours of violet, from a dark pansy-coloured bodice which faded to a mid shade at the bottom of a hip-length tunic descending from a high waistline, over two layers of skirt, the bottom one being almost white at the hem, with embroidery the colour of the bodice and gold around the hem. It suited her dark prettiness, with violet eyes in a creamy face. Her intended was dressed similarly to Quester, with a short tunic with wide, cuffed sleeves over very tight trousers tailored to fit him precisely, down to the soled foot which did service as indoor footwear once the boots were shed. Quester loathed the style, preferring to have his footwear separate. However, he complied. He did not go to the extent of ankle jewellery many of the men wore. Far too much risk of it being caught in something.  He also wore his tunic longer than was fashionable, though none could question its cut, quality, and the restrained embroidery about it. He noticed that a few of the men wore hand jewellery like Kiliana’s, but instead of ending in rings, the chains ran to steel-tipped nail-protectors. It seemed to be a new fad, like the ankle jewellery, and not universally worn. A few of the men had decorated nails too, but cut square and more restrained than the fanciful artworks on some of the women.

Quester was glad to note that several men with longer hair wore it in the style Kiliana had sorted out for him. Several of them included a gold or silver ribbon which went across the brow like a crown, and tied the tail off at the back. Long hair was an affectation of Patrician men, though some preferred still to wear their hair short. He observed the fashions thoughtfully. The older men wore their gowns over tunics, the fashion being for a wide fold-back collar often intricately embroidered, batwing sleeves which hung but were at elbow length at the elbow bend, and calf length. Some of the tunics were cut to resemble a shorter gown over a contrasting coloured front. He felt uncomfortable without his own gown-cum-mantle, but needs must. He curled his toes inside the hated foot-trouser.

“You’ll pull them out of shape,” said Kiliana. “Endure it the way I have to endure high heels.”

“What is it about Patrician fashion which calls for uncomfortable feet?” demanded Quester, irritably.

“The statement that one does not need them,” said Kiliana, dryly. “Go and dance with people. I’m sure the bride-to-be will be happy to dance with the guest of honour.”

The bride-to-be giggled.

“Oh, I’d love to,” she said. “I doubt, when you’ve sorted things out, and subdued various people, there will be any need for a Justiciar to visit for another hundred years, so I can boast to my grandchildren that I danced with one once.”

“I certainly hope to do so,” said Quester, offering his arm.

“Of course, what you really want is the gossip and the ill-natured remarks Papa would be shocked at me sharing,” said Artemisia, as they began a gliding, dipping dance. “I assume that socialising has a purpose?”

“You are an astute young lady,” said Quester. He had learned to dance at the academy, and knew this three-beat dance, called a Rishingle.

“And Elena is a friend of mine and we stick together because both of us know how many fingers make a hand,” said Artemisia.”You want to know that the new Lord Omalos is known to go on fishing trips with Lord Poltronis, who managed to fascinate Lysandus when he was first out of school, despite warnings from Sepheus.  I think you’ll find that Lysandus does not want to consider that his brother’s death was anything but a tragic accident, because he doesn’t want to have to face any thought that his dear friend might have had anything to do with it.”

“Is that common gossip?” asked Quester.

“No, it’s a deep suspicion held by those of us who don’t like dear Anastas,” said Artemisia. “And I’m talking to you as a flirty young girl to a handsome man, because then I can’t be accused of slander, can I?”

She batted her eyelids at him.

“Er, yes, very astute,” said Quester.

Artemisia giggled.

“Oh, I don’t poach on another girl’s territory, even if I wasn’t wildly in love with Lycos, which I am; I know you’re taken.”

“You are mistaken; I have no emotional ties,” said Quester, stiffly.

Artemisia dissolved into laughter.

“Oh, well, I’ll say no more about it,” she said, when she had herself under control.  “But we are halfway through the dance, so you need to know that those who usually vote with Poltronis are Lord Nidas, of the nine, and lords Drakis, Peleos, Spyridakis and Tazankis of the twelve.  As well, now, as Lysandus Omalos. My father is determinedly neutral, because that is the traditional stance of the second of nine, in order to be a voice of control and reason. Lord Lefkas is also neutral, he is sixth of nine, and Limines, who is ninth. The twelve are usually neutral unless in the camp of a strong voice. The danger at the moment is that Anastas is a strong voice, and Elena is not proved a good leader. There will be those who write her off as too young and too female. Lady Vasilaka of the twelve will probably support her on principle.”

“I see, thank you for your insights,” said Quester. “Drakis – is there not a connection to Omalos?”

“Oh, you have done your homework,” said Artemisia. “Yes; Platonis Achilleon Drakis is the father of Anna Platona Omola, wife of the late Basilis Aion Omalos, father of Lysander and the late Sepheus. There’s no question but that he died of natural causes. They questioned his servants and his personal indent – indentured servant – said that he had sent out for mussels and a forbidden drug called Tigra, which puts a man on. It makes him sterile as well, so everyone is watching Anna’s belly, but she wouldn’t have had the time or energy to play him false, poor woman.”

“What is the point of him taking it if it makes him sterile?” asked Quester.

Artemisia giggled.

“Plainly you don’t experience any difficulty with your ‘staff of office,’” she said. “Old men often can’t manage at all, and as old Basilis had two sons, he was more interested in a good shag than in procreating again.”

“Ah,” said Quester, blushing.

The dance ended, and he restored Artemisia to her betrothed. She was promptly engulfed in a flurry of young women, and Quester blushed more to hear questions asked which ran along the lines of, ‘darling, is he as dreamy as he looks? Is he single? Do you think he likes blondes?’

Kiliana slid into his arms and headed for the dance floor, making it look as if he led her.

“Did she come through with good information?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s a very astute young woman, and has a good grasp of politics,” said Quester. “Though she made a poor guess in thinking that I am in some way involved with some woman. I disabused her of that misapprehension,” he added.

“Well, don’t blame me if all the other unattached females want to get into your trousers,” said Kiliana. “They’re agog to know all about you.”

“I hope you didn’t tell them anything! Why should they want to know?” demanded Quester.

“I said that you were of forbidding disposition and avoided emotional entanglement, don’t worry,” said Kiliana. “Are you really asking me why they want to know about you?”

“Well, yes,” said Quester.

“Leo!  Well, for a start, you are handsome, in that brooding sort of way that sends women crazy, you have a muscular body as shows out in ball clothes, and you carry an air of charisma, because you are important and know it. It bothered me a bit at first, but I have grown used to it.”

“Bothered you? My dear girl, you called me pompous, and poked fun at me.”

“Yes, well, if I could laugh at it, I felt less intimidated,” said Kiliana, looking down her nose at him. “But when I figured out that it’s just supreme confidence in your ability, and the pomposity is just extra armour, it was fine.” She hesitated. “I think it’s also that a Justiciar carries an air of danger. I can’t see it myself, and I got to know you before I realised just how dangerous you are, but some women are attracted to dangerous men, and get a kick out of the frisson of nearly fear.”

“I do not understand women,” said Quester, bewildered.

“That’s why you have me to do so for you,” said Kiliana.

When the dance ended, Kiliana found herself looking up at the still handsome figure of Anastas Poltronis.

“My lady, will you dance?” he asked.

“Thank you, my lord,” said Kiliana, properly. She analysed him critically. Yes, over forty, but not by much, a year or two younger than Elena’s mother. No grey showing in his crisp, dark hair, too crisp to mess about with braids, and curling back from his face in any case. He wore a moustache as many of the men here did, which also had no grey in it. But then, there was always hair dye. He was one of those who favoured a tunic with the look of a gown to it, slate grey silk inner sleeves and front made of pleats seeming to cross in several layers, and a dark red apparent robe, embroidered in gold and grey.

“We are fortunate to have so beautiful a visitor as yourself to our gathering,” said Poltronis.

“You are kind to say so,” said Kiliana.

“Why, I mean it,” said Poltronis. “Your guardian, I hear, is the Justiciar; doubtless a harsh guardian who does not often permit you to shine as a woman. I saw how displeased he looked when he danced with you.”

“He is not inclined to frivolity,” said Kiliana, casting her gaze down.

“No, I imagine not,” said Poltronis. “But my philosophy in life is to take what you want when you want it; you should not let him trammel you.”

“Oh, I am getting used to life outside my previously somewhat cloistered existence,” said Kiliana.

“And I am sure you will soon be used to people telling you that you are a charming and beautiful young woman,” said Poltronis.

Kiliana looked disconcerted, then made herself frown in thought.

“Can it be that you are paying me compliments on behalf of a son of yours who is too shy to speak to me himself?” she asked. “You are a Patrician, so you are not the sort of creepy old man one is warned about, but, you know, it does come over as a bit creepy for someone of your age to compliment me so fulsomely.”

Poltronis went purple.

“I am not usually accounted old,” he said.

“Oh!” said Kiliana, blankly. “I thought you looked well over thirty, and that’s middle aged, isn’t it?”

Poltronis did not get a chance to answer, since there was a screech, and Lady Lyra positively dragged Kiliana away from him.

“You red-haired slut! Don’t you work your wiles on Anastas! She is nothing, Anastas, an outsider!” she cried. “You, you little whore....” she went to slap Kiliana, who acted instinctively, and put the woman down on her face on the floor.

“I fancy the woman has been drinking,” said Kiliana. “My lord, will you be good enough to call servants to see her home?  I believe I will retire and cool my face. Thank you for the dance.”