“Probably,” he conceded. “But we’re not giving up the opportunity to watch him hang right here in Siddar City when the time comes.” He shrugged, his sapphire eyes far bleaker than his almost whimsical tone. “Sometimes tradition is important, and if anybody ever damned well deserved to hang, it’s Sahbahtyno.”
“I can’t argue with you there,” Nynian acknowledged, her own tone rather more serious than it had been. “But, all jesting aside, this is exactly why I argued against arresting him when we first identified him.”
“And, as usual,” Merlin turned smiled warmly at her, “you were right. Have I ever mentioned that you have a habit of being that way?”
“From time to time,” she said, leaning closer to rest her head on his shoulder. “From time to time.”
He tucked an arm around her and sipped cherrybean, then snorted a laugh.
“What?” she asked without lifting her head from his shoulder, and he chuckled.
“I was just thinking about Mahrlys and Rahool,” he said. “I wonder if either of them ever expected this to turn out the way it looks like it’s going to?”
“You mean in front of an altar?” It was Nynian’s turn to chuckle warmly. “I doubt it, but it couldn’t happen to two nicer people!”
“No, it couldn’t. And I hope you don’t mind that Seijin Aibram will always have a warm spot in his heart for Mahrlys.”
“I’d be astonished if he didn’t. She wasn’t simply one of the most … accomplished young ladies in Madame Ahnzhelyk’s employ, she was also one of the sweetest. And the smartest. There was a reason—besides Aibram’s charming Silkiahan accent—that I suggested her for him that first night, you know. She always was one of my favorites.”
“And with good reason,” Merlin said with a fond smile. Then he sat back, sipping more cherrybean as the two of them watched the imagery from the SNARC remote on the ceiling of Airah Sahbahtyno’s hotel room.
Even with the advantages the SNARCs conferred, and even with such talented hunters as Nahrmahn Baytz and Nynian Rychtyr, it had taken over four months to find and identify Sahbahtyno. They’d known he had to be out there somewhere, and together with Owl, they’d been back over every second of imagery from every single one of the hundreds of remotes seeded throughout Siddar City until they finally found him.
I suppose I should feel at least a little remorse that we hanged Samyl Naigail for Trumyn’s murder, Merlin reflected. On the other hand, he was definitely right there in the middle of the riot, and they found plenty of imagery of what that little bastard did in the Charisian Quarter two years ago. The seijin’s mouth tightened ever so briefly as he remembered reviewing some of that imagery. Nobody in the universe ever deserved hanging more than he did. And the fact that we hanged him for it—and truly thought we were getting the guilty party, at the time—was probably a major factor in Sahbahtyno’s conclusion that no one suspected him at all.
It was painfully obvious that the Church’s sudden acquisition of the open hearth steel process must have come from the briefcase which had been stolen from Zhorj Trumyn after his murder in that “spontaneous riot” in Tanner’s Way. Unfortunately, there’d been far fewer remotes in Siddar City at the time, and that particular bit of violence had escaped their attention. Ultimately, that was probably for the best, though, because if they’d identified Sahbahtyno at the time, they would most certainly have executed him for it. And that, as Nynian had just pointed out, would have been a pity.
Or a waste, at least. Merlin couldn’t quite convince himself to view Sahbahtyno’s continued existence as a good thing, however useful he might have proved. In fact, he’d been all for bringing the bastard in and repairing the omission which had left him alive, and both Cayleb and Sharleyan had supported him strongly … until Nynian pointed out that after his success in acquiring the steelmaking information he must have absolutely established his reliability in the eyes of his masters in Zion.
Just leaving him in place while they studied his actions had told them a great deal about how Rayno and Clyntahn had reorganized their intelligence operations in light of Charis’ lethally effective counterintelligence. Sahbahtyno had very carefully avoided creating any sort of network, any web of sources that could be penetrated and tracked back to him, and that explained a great deal about how he’d evaded detection in the first place. It had limited the reach of his information gathering, despite the unanticipated treasure trove which had fallen into his lap when he’d launched the riot in which Trumyn died, but it had also made him almost totally invisible, even to Nahrmahn and Owl. And he really was very, very good at his work, with exactly the combination of skill, acute observation, cool calculation, discipline, patience, and dash of recklessness a first-rate intelligence agent required.
The Inquisition had done an excellent job in establishing his basic cover, as well. He’d set up as an upscale rug merchant with a well-heeled clientele, importing his goods from both Chisholm and Tarot, and he turned a tidy legitimate profit. In fact, his business produced more than enough income for him to afford a room someplace like the Protector’s Arms, and he clearly realized that the best place to hide was usually in plain sight. He’d made no effort to keep his activities—or, at least, the activities of his public persona—under wraps, and “furtive” was probably the last word anyone would have applied to him. After studying him for a few five-days, Nynian had realized he reminded her a great deal, in some ways, of Ahrloh Mahkbyth. She doubted he was as physically tough as the ex-Guardsman, and he definitely wanted to stay as far from any more “hands-on” work than he could possibly avoid. But he was perfectly willing to resort to violence when needed, as the Tanner’s Way riot demonstrated, and he was probably just as smart as he thought he was. That was saying quite a lot—self-deprecation wasn’t one of his outstanding qualities—and that suited her purposes just fine. A smart spy who didn’t realize he was being manipulated was a priceless asset, she’d explained. Especially if his superiors knew how smart he was. They’d be far more cautious about accepting information from a stupid spy, after all.
And smart people could be counted upon to do smart things. Which meant that if one understood their motives and approached them properly, it was actually easier to predict how they would react than it would have been with someone who wasn’t smart. That was a fundamental article of faith for her, and she’d set out to demonstrate its applicability in Airah Sahbahtyno’s case.
Mahrlys Fahrno truly had been one of Ahnzhelyk Phonda’s favorite courtesans in Zion, almost more daughter than an employee. She’d never been recruited by the Sisters of Saint Kohdy, but when Ahnzhelyk disappeared, she’d arranged independent routes by which each of her young ladies could escape Zion as well, if they chose. She hadn’t expected the Inqusition to become suddenly and deeply interested in Ahnzyhelyk’s past activities, but she hadn’t been able to rule out the possibility, and so she’d given each young woman her own avenue out of the city without ever mentioning that she’d done the same thing for all of them.
In the event, no one in the Inquisition even seemed to have noticed Ahnzhelyk’s disappearance, but the savagery of Zhaspahr Clyntahn’s purge of the vicarate, following so closely on the closure of Madam Phonda’s establishment, had made it easy for Mahrlys to make her choice. Few of Ahnzhelyk’s competitors had been able—or willing—to provide the quality of client, the comfort, and—above all—the safety Ahnzhelyk had, and she’d personally known too many of the men Clyntahn had so brutally murdered. She’d known that whatever else they might have been, they definitely hadn’t been the monsters the Inquisition claimed they had. She hadn’t much thought about Reformism before that, but the shattering proof of the Group of Four’s corruption had clarified her thinking remarkably, and Zion had been no place for a new, fiercely devoted Reformist. Besides, she’d been born and raised in Silk Town. That meant she’d had no family in the Temple Lands to hold her there, and she’d arrived on the doorstep of Aivah Pahrsahn’s Siddar City townhouse less than three months later.