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“What comes next?” her companion asked.
“I don’t know. All his friends have … disappeared.”
Mann blinked. “Disappeared? Or merely inaccessible?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is a different matter. Then, if I might suggest, let us return to the inn, where we can plan your next venture.”
They took an easy pace through Tiralien’s main avenues, which were crowded with carts and carriages this afternoon. Mann suggested a detour into the Little University, including a visit to the house where Tanja Duhr’s most famous archivist once lived. He was attempting to divert her, and to provide a distraction for anyone who might be observing the baron’s activities in Tiralien, so she did not protest.
As they came into the narrow street where Asa Dilawer had lived while he organized and annotated the first and most complete collection of Tanja Duhr’s poetry, Ilse felt a hand skim her leg. She glanced down to see a nondescript man of uncertain years hurry past. There was nothing about him to attract attention …
She rode on a few moments, then casually leaned down to adjust her stirrup. Just as she suspected, there was a note tucked into her boot. She slid that into her palm, and from there into her sleeve, before she straightened up.
“A problem?” Mann asked.
“An answer,” she replied. “Or so I hope.”
At the next fountain, Mann called for a halt while they watered their horses. Ilse unfolded the scrap of paper into her palm and read the few short lines the message contained. Go back to Little University to Aldemar Square. Third passage south to old stables. I have news of Raul.
She crumpled the paper into her fist. An obvious ploy, except no one knew of her presence here, except Mann, his servants, and Kathe.
“You don’t like the answer,” Mann observed.
“I’m not certain. I might need to ride alone. Can I trust you to return to the inn?”
“No,” he said cheerfully. “I would rather come with you. And do not think to use your sword against me, oh guardian of my heart. Someone would surely notice.”
“In my next life, I shall hunt you down and make you miserable,” she growled.
“That is my hope.”
In the end, she allowed him to accompany her as they rode a great circle round to reenter the Little University, then into the third passage south from Aldemar Square. Their destination proved to be an abandoned stable, built from stone. Once it might have belonged to a thriving merchant. Now it was an empty dusty shell.
Just as Ilse was wondering what came next, a lean man dressed in a stained brown shirt and trousers emerged from the stables. “This way.” He took hold of her horse’s bridle. Mann dismounted and followed, gazing around him as they proceeded through a long corridor lined with empty stalls, then into a larger hall that echoed with the trill and coo of doves. The man gathered the reins of Mann’s horse and nodded toward a ladder. “Go there. Your friends are waiting. Don’t worry about the horses. I’ll see to them.”
Ilse climbed up first, a knife in one hand. She passed one darkened floor, then came to a second lit with shaded lamps leading off to one side. This one, yes. She waited for Mann, and they proceeded down the trail of lamplight, until they came to a small bare room illuminate
d with more lamps, where Benno Iani waited.
As she approached, Benno stared. “You live,” he said in a wondering tone. “I was afraid—”
“My own story doesn’t matter,” Ilse said. “Tell me what happened with Raul. Quickly, please.”
Her voice broke on the last word. Benno held out a hand and guided her inside to a bench where Emma Iani sat.
It was Emma who gave her the essential information.
“He rode to Duenne with Ault and eight guards. That was almost two months ago. Lord Khandarr arrested him the moment he entered Duenne. According to our last report, the king has agreed to a trial.”
“What else?”
They took turns in delivering the news.
How Khandarr had infiltrated Raul’s network in Tiralien. How Khandarr believed that Lord Kosenmark intended to sail to Károví to betray his own kingdom. Raul’s absence seemed to confirm the rumors, until he reappeared two months later. His stay was brief, however. Less than a month after his return, he signed over all his possessions in Tiralien to Kathe Raendl and Dedrick’s cousin, Lord Gerek Haszler.
Their last report, delivered by a friend from another friend, said Duke Kosenmark insisted on a public trial for his son. The king had agreed, but the process had stalled in bickering between political factions.
