"How can you know that?"
"The assassin was right-handed. He threw the knife at you with his left."
Isana frowned, then said, "The bloodstain was on the right side of the tunic."
"Precisely. The assassin approached the dockworker from behind and struck with the blade in his right hand. We know that the kill was not a clean one. We know that the dockworker was probably an earthcrafter. It is reasonable to assume that he struck back at his attacker with furycrafted strength-likely a glancing blow back with his right arm or elbow, striking the assassin's arm in the process."
Isana stared down at Serai. The practical, quiet tone of the courtesan's voice in discussing calculated violence and murder was chilling. A current of fear coursed through Isana, and she sat down at the fountain again. Men of terrible skill and intent were determined to end her life, and her only protection was a frail-looking slip of a woman in a low-cut silk gown.
Serai sipped again at her wine. "Had he been able to get any closer before being seen, or had he been throwing with his preferred arm, you would be dead, Steadholder."
"Great furies preserve us," Isana whispered. "My nephew. Do you think that he is in danger?"
"There's nothing to suggest that he is-and within the Citadel he's as safe as anywhere in the Realm." Serai touched Isana's hand with hers. "Patience. Once we contact Gaius, he will protect your family. He has every reason to do so."
Bitter, old sadness washed through Isana, and the ring on the chain about her throat suddenly felt very heavy. "I'm sure he has the best of intentions."
Serai's back straightened slightly, and Isana sensed a sudden wash of comprehension and suspicion from the courtesan. "Isana," Serai said quietly, dark eyes intent, "you know Gaius. Don't you."
Isana felt a flutter of panic in her belly, but she held it from her voice, expression, and posture as she rose and paced away. "Only by reputation."
Serai rose to follow her, but before she could speak the courtyard was filled with the sound of the house bells ringing. Voices called out from the street outside, and only a moment later, an elderly but robust-looking man in fine robes limped quickly into the garden.
"Sir Nedus," Serai said, performing a graceful curtsey.
"Ladies," Nedus replied. Tall and slim, Nedus had been a Knight Captain for thirty years before retiring, and his every precise and efficient movement still reflected it. He bowed slightly to each of them, and grimaced, an expressive gesture given his bushy silver eyebrows. "Did you drink all my wine again, Serai?"
"I may have left a splash in the bottle," she said, walking to the little table. "Please, my lord, sit down."
"Steadholder?" Nedus asked.
"Of course," Isana replied.
Nedus nodded his thanks and thumped down on the stone bench around the fountain, rubbing at his hip with one hand. "I hope you don't think me rude."
"Not at all," she assured him. "Are you in pain?"
"Nothing that doesn't happen every time I spend hours on my feet dealing with fools," Nedus said. "I must have talked for hours." Serai passed Nedus a glass of wine, and the old knight downed it in a long swallow. "Furies bless you, Serai. Be a dear child and-"
Serai drew the bottle from behind her back, smiling, and refilled Nedus's glass.
"Wonderful woman," Nedus said. "If you could cook, I'd buy your contract."
"You couldn't afford me, darling," Serai said, smiling, and touched his cheek in a fond gesture.
Isana refrained from voicing a curse aloud and settled for asking, "What happened, sir?"
"Bureaucracy," Nedus spat. "The First Counselor's office was packed to the roof. If someone had set the building on fire, half the fools of the Realm would have burned to ash together and left us the richer for it."
"That many?" Serai asked.
"Worse than I've ever seen," Nedus confirmed. "The office wanted every request in writing, and they weren't supplying paper and ink to manage it with. The Academy refused to give any away during examinations, every shop in the Citadel was sold dry of them, and errand boys were gouging applicants for a bloody fortune to run and get them in the Merchants' Quarter, bless their avaricious hearts."
"How much did it cost you?" Serai asked.
"Not a copper ram," Nedus replied. "Something strange was up. The First Counselor's demands were just an excuse."
"How do you know'?" Isana asked.
"Because I bribed a scribe in the office with a dozen golden eagles to find out," Nedus replied.
Isana blinked at Nedus. Twelve golden coins could buy supplies for a steadholt for a year or more. It was a small fortune.
Nedus finished the second glass of wine and set it aside. "Word came down that no further audiences with the First Lord were to be granted," he replied. "But that he'd commanded the First Counselor not to reveal the fact. The fool was stuck with figuring out how to prevent anyone from seeing the First Lord without giving them an excuse as to why. And from the looks of the folk in the office, he didn't expect to last the day without someone setting his hair on fire."
Serai frowned and exchanged a long glance with Isana.
"What does it mean?" Isana asked quietly.
"That we cannot reach him that way," Serai said. "Beyond that, I am not sure. Nedus, did you learn anything at all about why the First Lord would do such a thing?"
Nedus shook his head. "Rumor was strong among the Counselor's staff that the First Lord's health had finally broken, but no one knew anything solid." He took the bottle from Serai's hand and drained the rest of it in a single pull. "I tried to find Sir Miles and speak to him, but he was nowhere to be found."
"Sir Miles?" Isana asked.
"Captain of the Royal Guard and the Crown Legion," Serai supplied.
"He was a water boy for Gaius's Knights, back in the my day," Nedus added. "He and his brother Araris. Miles was a hopeless squire, but he grew up pretty good. He remembers me. Might have helped out, but I couldn't find him. I'm sorry, child. I failed you."
Serai murmured, "Of course you didn't, darling. Gaius is making himself scarce, and his captain is nowhere to be found. Clearly something is afoot."
"Not all that scarce," Nedus said. "He presided over the qualifying runs of the Wind Trials this morning, as always."
"Perhaps," Serai said, her brow furrowed in thought. She glanced back at Isana, and said, "We must now consider more dangerous means of reaching him." She opened a small purse affixed to her belt, withdrew a folded piece of paper, and offered it to Isana.
"What is this?" she asked.
"An invitation," Serai replied. "Lady Kalare is hosting a garden party this evening."
Nedus's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Crows, woman. How did you manage to get an invitation?"
"I wrote it," the courtesan replied serenely. "Lady Kalare's hand is quite simple to reproduce."
Nedus barked out a laugh, but said, "Dangerous. Very dangerous."
"I don't want to go to a party," Isana said. "I want to reach the First Lord."
"Without being able to schedule an audience or reach your nephew, we must attempt something less direct. Each of the High Lords has an audience with the First Lord every year, as do the Senator Primus, the Regus of the Trade Consortium, and the head of the Dianic League. Most, if not all of them will be at the fete."
Isana frowned. "You want to talk one of them into letting us accompany them on their audience?"
"It isn't uncommon," Serai said. "You would not be privileged to speak to the First Lord under normal circumstances, but then once we are actually in Gaius's presence, we should be able to resolve matters in short order."