The first sign that I was approaching the taudis was a chest-high brick wall to my right, on the south side of South Middle. The bricks had once been yellow, but now presented a mottled tannish brown appearance. In a few places, there were patches of faint yellow, where graffiti had been scrubbed off by one of the penal road crews. The second sign was that I could hear children playing beyond the wall.
I glanced over the time-smudged brick barrier wall and across the narrow strip of dirt that had been a parkway decades earlier at the rows of ancient two-, three-, and four-story dwellings, the wall of one building indistinguishable from the next. Most of the front stoops were empty, but I saw one man with a tangled beard, puffing on a long pipe of the type used for elveweed. I glanced farther south along the row of battered brick dwellings. There might have been another elver on a stoop near the cross street.
I kept walking.
A dark-haired woman with two children, both girls, looked up as I approached.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, sir.” She took their hands and did not meet my eyes. Her shawl and cloak were both spotless, but the wool was frayed in places, and the pattern an Extelan weave that had not been available since before I had become an apprentice to Caliostrus.
Two boys almost old enough to be working stepped through a gateless gap in the wall. The taller one looked at me defiantly, but only for a moment, until the other murmured something, and both turned and headed back into the taudis.
Just ahead, again on the right and behind the wall, was the first new building I’d seen, a narrow, single-storied, yellow-brick structure with a steeply pitched roof. A cupola of sorts rose on the nearer end above the three sets of double doors that made it look like a meeting house or an anomen of some sort, but I’d never seen an anomen like that, which suggested it was one for another faith, although they wouldn’t have called it an anomen.
For the next half mille, I saw no one else at all close to me, and I turned back.
I almost had reached Sudroad before I could hail another hack. This time, I had the driver take me a quarter mille beyond NordEste Design, farther out Nordroad, and drop me off. I didn’t know if I’d see or sense anyone with less than savory intentions, but if I did, I had an idea I wanted to try.
The only problem with my idea was that on the entire walk back, I saw almost no one. In fact, I saw fewer people than I had walking past the taudis. I did reach Seliora’s a fifth of a glass or so before I was due, but that wouldn’t be a problem. I dropped the polished brass knocker twice and waited.
Odelia was the one who greeted me. “Is there anyone you’d like to see before Seliora?” she asked, her tone innocent.
“Not if I expect to leave here with her speaking to me,” I replied, knowing that if I were a High Holder, I would have replied in a pleasant tone with words like “Were I not to speak with her first, speaking to anyone else would be an anticlimax.”
As she stepped back to let me enter, Odelia laughed at my more direct approach. “I think she’s probably in the foyer by now.”
Odelia and I walked up the stairs, reaching the foyer just as Seliora stepped out of the archway from the side staircase. She was more casually dressed than on the evening before . . . with a simple black pullover sweater and black slacks. A heavy silver chain and matching silver earrings were the only jewelry she wore. She did smile, openly.
“Everyone else will be down shortly, except Mother and Aegina. They’re in the kitchen.” She looked at me. “Your face is windburned.”
“I went for a walk. I had the hack drop me off farther out Nordroad. I walked back, but I didn’t see anyone.”
“Good. You shouldn’t have. Grandmama got tired of having people shoot at you. She called in a favor, and for a while there will be some old . . . acquaintances watching.”
I managed not to shake my head.
“Grandmama won’t know until tomorrow at the earliest when you can meet with Horazt. I’ll send a note by messenger to the Collegium. That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Much better. It has to be after fourth glass.” I paused. “It doesn’t have to be, but it would be a great deal easier if it were.”
“We thought as much. Besides, most taudischefs prefer the evening.” She paused. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I didn’t have much breakfast, and I’ve walked a lot.”
“Good.” She led me toward the dining chamber.
Seliora had once told me that they never had a formal evening meal on Solayi, except on holidays like Year-Turn. As I looked at all the platters of food spread around the table, I could see why.
I enjoyed the meal and remainder of the afternoon before I had to leave for Imagisle and the evening services at the anomen. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that I felt almost guilty on the hack ride back.
13
Lundi morning, Clovyl was relatively gentle with me in his hand-to-hand instruction, showing me ways to disarm someone with either knife or pistol. I refrained from pointing out that I could just image the weapons out of their hands. My caution was warranted, because he addressed that just before I was to actually try the moves on him.
“One of the reasons you need to learn this sort of thing, Rhennthyl, is because most imagers can’t image for a while if they get a stiff blow to their skull. The good assassins and spies know that.”
“It would have been nice to learn that earlier.”
“You would have, if you’d come to the Collegium a good bit younger than you did,” Clovyl replied mildly. “We teach that to the junior primes, but it would have taken years to go over everything with you, and it didn’t make sense to hold you back. You really would have done something stupid, then.”
“Thank you.” My words were not sarcastic. I meant them.
Clovyl looked puzzled.
“No one ever simply explained what you just did. A great deal of my frustration with the Collegium derives from the continual assumptions that I know things I don’t. If someone had just said what you did . . .”
“That’s probably true, Rhenn, but you have to realize that you’re also one of the oldest imagers ever to show up at the Collegium. No one, and I mean no one, has any experience with training a mostly developed imager. Most imagers who develop the skill as late as you did end up dead before the Collegium ever knows about them. That was why you ended up with Master Dichartyn as your preceptor. Usually, he only works with thirds and junior masters.”
That made me feel even more stupid, because I really should have noticed more. I’d known I was older than most of the primes, but before I’d had a chance to really think about it, I’d been made a second-and there were many seconds older than I was. There were even graying seconds.
I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and concentrated on learning the moves better. Then I ran the customary four milles and hurried through the rest of the morning routine so that I wouldn’t be late to Patrol headquarters.
I wasn’t. In fact, I was waiting outside Mardoyt’s door when he arrived.
“Have you been here long?”
“No, sir. Just a fraction of a glass.”
“Good. Follow me. I’ll introduce you to the patroller clerks, and you can go with First Patroller Baluzt and the coach-wagon taking this morning’s lot to the courts. He can explain how the procedures work.” Mardoyt offered a generous and open smile. “Possibly better than I can.”
“You’re the one who has to make sure all the supporting documents get to the court?”
“I also have to make certain that witnesses appear for any major offense. Tracking them down isn’t always easy, and it often takes a lieutenant and two patrollers to make sure that they do show up. We have another coach-wagon for witnesses.” He turned. “This way.”
We only walked across the hall into a room twice as large as the commander’s anteroom, and far more crowded, with seven writing desks and an entire wall filled with file cases stacked one on top of another. Three of the desks were empty, with files stacked on them. The walls might once have been white, but were now more like a dingy beige.