Mother of Lies Read Online Free PDF Page A

consensus she would be gone.
    Even so, running a city was easier than being a mother.
    A pale robe shimmered in the shadows. The old man lowered himself carefully to his knees, then folded forward, forehead to floor, just on the edge of the puddle of light the two little oil lamps spilled on the tiles. Everything else under the high ceiling was darkness and the gigantic surging of the storm.
    Oliva had several choices. She had once seen Piero leave an unwelcome petitioner crouching like that for half a day until the man must have been near to screaming from cramp. Or she could say, “Approach,” which would mean he had to crawl forward like an insect.
    Instead she said, “Welcome, Master Dicerno,” and that was permission for him to rise and walk closer—bowing several times, naturally. They were alone and no one could eavesdrop in a hall so huge. “Well? What has my infamous son been up to this time?”
    Chies was already taller than her by a fair amount and absolutely impossible. Master Preceptor Dicerno had the reputation of being able to turn the most obdurate adolescent animals into model citizens, but she would not be surprised in the slightest if he had come tonight to announce that he had met his match at last and must wash his hands of an intractable lout. Then all the tongues of Celebre would wag harder than ever. Blood, as they said, will out.
    The preceptor looked blank. “To my knowledge nothing, my lady! I believe he is really trying now. Lord Chies is truly remorseful when he offends you, you know, even if he cannot say so; men of his age have trouble admitting to errors of judgment. If I may presume … a few words of praise from you now would be most helpful. I am very happy with his progress and his efforts.”
    Oliva breathed a silent prayer to some god or goddess. No, to all of Them. “I shall certainly congratulate him. That is very good news! But if you have not come about my son, why do you venture here in such weather?”
    She was surprised to see the haughty old man glance around at the shadows. Paradoxically, he seemed both nervous and even more pleased with himself than usual.
    “I come as envoy from an important visitor, my lady. He wished an audience with his lordship, and I explained how that would not be possible. So he begs that you will receive him tonight. Here. He specifically asked that the audience be here in the Hall of Pillars.”
    She hid an unexpected shiver of fear behind bluster. “Outrageous! To dictate where I will receive him? I doubt if even the Fist himself would presume so. Who is this arrogant knave?” Whoever he was, she was much afraid that she could guess who had sent him. For the last year, the war had been relentlessly moving in this direction.
    Dicerno came a pace closer. His voice was soft as gossamer, almost inaudible under the rattling of the shutters. “A man who may now be greater than the Fist.”
    If all her blood were drained away and replaced by ice, she might feel like this …. “In person?” she whispered. “Here in Celebre?” Ice, ice! “Are you sure?”
    “He was a pupil of mine, my lady. A little older than lord Dantio. I believe he can be trusted. He … he has a warrior’s rough manner at times, my lady, but he is not the bloodlord.”
    No. No one else was Stralg. Utter evil could not appear twice in human guise. “What does he want ?”
    “He will not say.”
    “Tomorrow, when my advisers—”
    Dicerno shook his head. “He swears he will be gone by dawn. My lady, I wager my soul that he can be trusted this far! He … he is a Celebrian noble, remember. My lady, you must receive him!”
    Piero would not tolerate that word, and Dicerno would never use a word by accident.
    Marno Cavotti himself? She could not imagine what Stralg would do if he found out, and few knew his cruelty better than she did. But what might the Mutineer do if she refused him? She was between millstones. His mother was a councillor, but no friend of