the riffraff.” He rubbed his chin. “There always was something off about him. I’ve always known it.”
Uni leaned back on his elbows, trying to stay somewhat upright. “According to what I hear, Dag isn’t just a lawyer. He defends poor people for free. He may be a fanatic, but he is also honest. He’d never try to poison a man.”
Vordius nodded in agreement. “He’s never been a sneak. And where would he have gotten the poison from if he wasn’t worried until after your conversation on the balcony? Did he bring it with him just in case? That’s nonsense.”
“Moving down the list. Sorgius. He’s the world’s biggest blockhead, but no one would ever call him a murderer. And he couldn’t possibly have a motive. He and I live in different worlds.”
“What about the girl? I can’t remember her name. Who was she?”
“I didn’t catch her name, either.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard to find out.”
“That’s true.” Uni was silent for a moment. “I just don’t understand who could possibly want me dead?”
“Do you have any enemies? What about someone you may have angered on accident?”
“Not a thing. I’m a nobody, with no money and no rank.”
“What about this delegation you’re supposed to go on? Maybe someone doesn’t like it.”
“But who? There wasn’t anyone else in the running for my post? Old Barko and I are the only two people in the Empire who speak Virilan.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course. They could have hired a Capotian. Lots of the merchants who trade with Virilan know some of the language. But the purpose of our mission is so secret that they don’t want to risk letting a foreigner be present for the negotiations.”
“Do you mean to say that if you’re dead, the delegation won’t happen?” Luvia asked from her seat in the corner.
Neither friend spoke for a moment. Vordius stopped pacing the room. His mouth hung open.
“You hit on it! We both missed it, but you figured it out!”
“She is right,” Uni whispered. He lay back on his pillow and stared stupidly at the ceiling, which was painted to resemble the canopy of a forest in the evening light. “It’s as easy as shelling peas! I’ve been laughing about the secrecy around our trip because I thought it was bureaucratic paranoia. I had no idea things were so serious.”
“This is beyond serious! You’re a pawn in a dangerous game, and you didn’t even know it until now.”
Uni passed a hand over his eyes. “I always did think it was strange that there hasn’t been a delegation to Virilan before now.” He paused and took a sip of water from the cup at his side. “I suppose someone at the palace doesn’t want our Emperor to have direct contact with Virilan. I even have an idea who it might be. But what could he gain by going so openly against the Emperor’s will? Old Forsey was worried about hurting our relations with Capotia, but that was just for cover. The palace would never give up an opportunity to profit from direct trade, and we will need all the allies we can get if there’s a war with the Arincils.” He sighed. “It would be so interesting to get to the bottom of it all!”
“Just look at him!” Vordius exclaimed to Luvia before turning back to his friend. “Wake up, Uni. You’re in the real world now. You could get killed. Did you not know that?” His voice lowered. “You don’t need to be chasing down secret enemies. You need to hide before they find out you’re still alive!”
“Do you really think they would come after me here, at the home of the Emperor’s chief physician?”
“Great Sun, do you still not see? If they tried to kill you once, they’re capable of anything! They resorted to the most primitive type of attack, and that means they’ve run out of other options!”
Vordius crossed his arms and stared down at Uni, who lay helplessly in his bed. Then he turned to Luvia, whose light-blue eyes were full of pity.
“Here’s what we do,” he said. “Luvia’s father is off on official business. You two stay here and be quiet. I’ll tell the servants not to open the door to anyone. I’ll run down to the barracks and get five or so of my men. We’ll move you to my house until it’s time for your departure. That’s the safest way.”
“But I have to see my mother,” Uni objected. “And someone has to explain to her what is happening.”
“I will talk to Emel Virando. She does not need to know too much.”
“Is that so? I’d like to see you tell her that.”
“I’ll come up with something. She has always had a soft spot for me.” Vordius grinned.
“Of course she has,” Uni gave a wry smile. “You always defended her only son from the older boys at school.”
“See? It’ll work out somehow. And even if it doesn’t, they won’t let her into the barracks to see you.”
Luvia couldn’t help but object. “You’re terrible, Vordius! Why don’t you let me talk to her?”
“No, you two sit still!” he hissed. “Neither one of you so much as looks out a window. Your mother will thank me for this someday,” he said to his friend as he slipped out the door.
Uni folded his arms behind his head and made a sad face at Luvia. Once again, life was teaching him that he was not in control. Even of himself.
The most popular establishment in Enteveria’s southern port district bore the ridiculous name “Bedsores”. The secret to the success of this lowly tavern had nothing to do with its tasteless moldings and vulgar draperies which were intended to emulate the interiors of the Emperor’s palace. No, it was people’s finer moral feelings that brought them to Bedsores. If you were an upstanding merchant or middling civil servant and firmly convinced that it would be a terrible thing for your wife if you were to carry on an affair with another woman, then your feet eventually carried you to Bedsores. First of all, it was in a neighborhood where nobody would recognize you. Second, it was relatively safe. And third, because it was located near the port where there were lots of foreigners with their own strange beliefs, it seemed reasonable that the Heavenly Deity – who had nothing to do with nonbelievers – would not turn his eyes that way often.
Interestingly, those same upstanding merchants’ wives had similar ideas and habits, especially since Bedsores was strategically located close to a number of large markets that a woman could be expected to visit on her shopping days. The only risk was that a husband and wife might run into each other within the tavern’s walls; however, since men preferred to take their recreation after the end of the working day and women tended to stop by in the middle of the day, problems only occurred if someone violated this unspoken rule.
The rule certainly seemed to be in peril as a tiny woman wrapped in a brown head covering made her way through the masses of lower-class workers who were on their way to their evening entertainments. With a speed and lightness that did not match her status as a middle-aged matron, she quickly slipped around anyone blocking her way in the street, her rounded buttocks eliciting rude comments from the people behind her. Before the local troublemakers had a chance to wager as to her intended destination, she slid through the front door of Bedsores. Several people guffawed as the door closed behind her.
History ignored the matter of what adventures the port district’s young people went in search of that evening, but it paid close attention to the woman in brown. She gestured at the owner of Bedsores, a short, oily man with an unpleasant face, and he nodded and turned away from her. Then, the woman pulled her head covering over her face and headed up the wooden staircase.
It was a long way up. The tavern had four floors of rooms, and each floor was given a symbolic name: earth, water, forest, and sky. Since the residents of the most expensive rooms