House of Shadows(19)
The mage opened one broad hand, conceding the point.
Miennes said to Taudde, “As long as you abandon your original purpose, whether it was spycraft or assassination or some other manner of disruption—as long as you abandon that intention, I say, we needn’t inquire too closely as to what it was. So long as you are amenable to the little task I—we have for you. You may even find our purposes run close coupled.”
“Yes?” Taudde inquired, in his politest tone.
Miennes paused and held his goblet up to muse on the pale wine. “As you seem to approve this vintage, perhaps I will serve it with the sweet course tomorrow evening. You will join us for the occasion, I hope? There will be a guest we would particularly like you to meet.”
“Of course I will attend. Your attention flatters me.” Taudde set his cup down with a tiny precise click of porcelain against marble. The wine, he surmised, was not drugged. And an acquaintance with this guest was clearly the price of this forbearance. Not, he suspected, a lasting acquaintance. Miennes, unless he was very much mistaken, meant to make Taudde into something like his own private assassin… It was an ugly idea. But he suspected that such an ugly use was exactly what a man such as Lord Miennes would think of, for a Kalchesene sorcerer who had fallen into his hands.
And even that might be preferable to such use as Ankennes might intend. Everyone knew that what a mage would comprehend, he took first to pieces, as though by mapping out its constituent elements he would learn to understand the whole. Taudde did not want to imagine what a Lonne mage would do with a captive Kalchesene sorcerer and a free hand. Strange to think that Miennes might be an asset to him, under these peculiar circumstances.
At least, even if Miennes and Ankennes were both subtle men, probably neither was the type to set up this dance and counterdance merely as a ruse to trap a Kalchesene bardic sorcerer for the Laodd authorities. No. They could have done that more safely and surely in a dozen ways, mostly involving far less personal involvement. Taudde was surer by the moment that these two meant to keep their newest toy fast in their own hands. Taudde met Miennes’s eyes. The lord smiled. Taudde smiled in return. Ankennes smiled. Everyone smiled. Ah, yes, we are all fast friends here.
“How fine a thing, travel,” Mage Ankennes said warmly. “It broadens the mind and strengthens the will, I believe the saying goes. I am sure you will benefit from it, young man. And we here in Lonne will surely benefit from it as well.”
That was the subtle way they delivered threats in civilized, sophisticated Lonne. Taudde wished he were back in Kalches, where both speech and threats were clear and straightforward.
The streets were indeed cold, Taudde found, once he was at last able to take his leave from Miennes’s great gray house. The late sun shone forth with little light and less warmth, fading notes in the closing movement of the day’s symphony. Even now the cold evening mists were creeping down the steep slopes into the city streets.
Taudde might have hired a conveyance, but it was not far to the townhouse he was renting, and perhaps the chilly air would help him clear his mind. He strode down the street, keeping well to the side to avoid getting afoul of the mounted traffic in the middle. Open carriages for wealthy merchants, closed ones for noble ladies, high-stepping horses for sleek young courtiers full of their own importance—very few of any sort would go to much trouble to avoid trampling a man on foot. But the streets were clear enough at this hour that Taudde could think while walking.
Taudde had spent considerable attention and effort on making sure he remained unnoticed by Lonne’s mages. He’d thought he had succeeded. But it seemed that Mage Ankennes had discovered him somehow. No doubt both he and Lord Miennes were involved in some ridiculous conspiracy Taudde would not care about at all, but in which he was undoubtedly going to be forced to participate. He was quite certain that the conspirators would have some plan already in place to keep control of their newest tool. If that had not been so, there would have been a drug in the wine.
Miennes, Taudde was sure, would prefer something subtle and slow acting, a trap that a clever opponent would close on himself by being clever. Ankennes was perhaps more direct, or perhaps so subtle that he simply suggested directness. In either case, no doubt trying to leave the city tonight would be a mistake. Taudde only wondered what shape the trap would take, if he should try. If anyone followed him along the streets, he could not detect them. But then, Ankennes was a mage. No doubt he had some more subtle way to keep track of the conspiracy’s newest tool.
Taudde rubbed his hands hard across his face. Why exactly had he come to Lonne in the first place? Beyond the satisfaction of defying his grandfather, a satisfaction that seemed at the moment rather trivial? Not, surely, to play games of politics and treachery with ruthless Lonne courtiers. Grandfather would laugh if he knew of this little predicament. Then he would stop laughing and say, Fool boy, get out of Lonne and come home! Now is not the time for a Kalchesene to be caught in Lonne! If you’ll only steady down, you’ll find the bardic sorcery of your own country enough to hold your attention for a lifetime or two without adding in the treacherous, ungraspable magic of the sea!