b’Estorr shrugged, set his pitcher aside. “It would be hard to prove they didn’t know, but they had to suspect something. The stars—there weren’t enough patterns in the horoscopes to make that work, if you ask me.”
“And I’d take it kindly if you’d tell that to the surintendant,” Monteia answered. “He can tell you who to talk to in the judiciary.”
“Looking for a conviction, Chief Point?” the necromancer asked
“Oh, yes,” Monteia answered, and Rathe cut in hastily.
“What happened to Domalein?”
Monteia made a face. “Gone. Probably got out as soon as she heard we were looking for the astrologers, but at least we got to go through her house pretty thoroughly. She left in a hurry, didn’t even stop to burn her papers, and we found plenty of letters from your Maseigne de Mailhac. She was paying for the whole thing, from the printers to the astrologers, and paying handsomely, too.”
“Except that Timenard had something else in mind,” Rathe said suddenly sobered again. He was himself something of a Leveller by heritage and temperament, and Timenard had tried to draw on that, paint a vision of a world without queen or seigneury. An attractive thought, for a southriver rat, except that it would have been Timenard and only Timenard who ruled in their place.
b’Estorr touched him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s a matter of balance, Nico. You can’t compel the stars, not in the long run, no matter how much aurichalcum you have. He could have made things very difficult for a while, very painful, but in the long run, the natural order reasserts itself. We were its agents this time.”
“Personally,” Eslingen said, “I’d be happier without that sort of favor.”
Rathe smiled again, made himself relax. He heard the tower clock strike, and then, a heartbeat later, the case-clock on the wall echoed it, beating out the hour. The true sun was sinking toward the horizon, the winter-sun still high in the sky, and he allowed himself a long sigh, tasting the familiar summer smells. He was home, the children were home and safe, and that was the end of it. He looked around, and Eslingen put a cool mug in his hand.
“Drink up,” he said, and Rathe laughed, and let himself be led away to join the celebration.
—«»—«»—«»—
[scanned anonymously in a galaxy far far away]
[A 3S Release— v1, html]
[May 22, 2006]
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Point of Hopes
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