The Master of Samar by Melissa Scott

Author:Melissa Scott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781952456169
Publisher: Candlemark & Gleam
Published: 2023-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The next few days were spent sorting out the aftermath of the reception—returning servants and borrowed goods and drawing cash from various accounts to pay back Gellis Ambros. The bulk of the silver went back to the bank, though Irichels kept enough to host a respectable dinner, and Envar slipped out on various errands while Irichels wrote the necessary letters of thanks and drafted a request for Oredana. Alaissou took over one of the second floor guest rooms above the dock and Irichels inscribed a permanent circle for her, ostensibly to damp the sound of her practice, but also to allow her to work her magic. The sounds of rebec and vielle spilled out occasionally anyway, and Irichels found he liked their presence. The high constable withdrew his men, though Envar reported that the house was still watched, and life returned to something more like normal.

He and Envar lingered over a late lunch, the faint sounds of a vielle drifting down from above while Arak ran through her exercises in the courtyard, and Irichels found himself wishing that the seeming peace was real. But it wasn’t, and he couldn’t risk believing that it was, and he carved a last sliver of meat off the roasted chicken. “Any news of Manimere?”

“Nothing of significance,” Envar answered. He was still in the worn, unobtrusive clothes he wore when he went in search of news, and Irichels could feel the curses that clung to them, inactive here in the house, but ready, diverting eye and ear and blurring memory. “She’s not been caught, though supposedly the city fleet caught sight of her pennon two days ago, and sent a patrol out after her. They’ve not returned, and there’s a certain smug pleasure circling round the docks. Manimere and her captains paid well and treated their people fairly, and no one seems sorry that the city captains are showing poorly. Nothing more than that, though, at least not in the circles I know.” He paused. “There is a new tune making the rounds, with a chorus of ‘strike the bell’. I can’t make much sense of it, but the ones who sing it seem to dodge the city sailors. I don’t know so many people on the docks.”

“Ask Alaissou,” Irichels suggested, and Envar nodded.

“I’d thought of that. At least you can tell the boy there’s no bad news.”

“I’m glad of that.”

“So am I,” Envar said. “You’ll need to figure out what to do with him, my heart. The longer he passes for yours, the more dangerous it is for him.”

“I know. But he’ll be safer passing as Samar for at least a little while longer.” Irichels looked up as the door opened, admitting Tepan.

“Beg pardon, Master, but there’s a letter from the Oratory. You said I should bring it right away.”

“Yes, thanks.” Irichels took the folded paper and broke the seal, scanning the elegant formal hand. “Finally. Oredana says she can get me an interview with the Oratorian who ruled on Debes’s case.”

“That may be very helpful,” Envar said.

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