The Death of Nnanji Read Online Free PDF Page B

under a lampblack slave stripe and gone spying on sorcerers. Katanji had his faults, but cowardice had never been one of them. Wallie had no reason to believe that the liege lord’s brother ever indulged in such deception these days, but his hesitation in answering now suggested that he at least knew people who did.
    “I might be able to lay my hands on a sort of makeup that ladies use to hide moles and so on. It comes off when you wash your face.”
    “That will do. I will send a junior over to your hutch to pick it up. I need it right away. I’ll think about the Addis problem when I have time.”
    “Don’t wait too long.” Katanji rose and handed back the silver goblet, which had been a gift from him in the first place. When offering wine to Nnanji, Wallie always used an unglazed earthenware beaker.
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 4
     
     
    As soon as Katanji had left through the waiting room, Wallie went out by the other door. His guards sprang to their feet, scattering knucklebones and money, but he spoke only to Filurz. “I need you to come with me, the rest of you stay. If Master Horkoda comes looking for me, we’ll be down in the kitchen.”
    Leaving a dozen eyes stretched wide with amazement, he marched out into the hallway. “I hope you know the way to the kitchen, because I don’t.”
    “Yes, mentor. Along here.”
    Swordsmen tended to be short, since agility mattered more than strength. Filurz was one of the shortest seniors in the Tryst, a swarthy little man with a high opinion of his own opinions, which he tended to offer unasked. Wallie usually overlooked his presumption, because he had a high opinion of them too. Too many swordsmen were either dumb jocks or toadyish yes-men.
    “This may not be good mentorship,” he said as they started down a long flight of stairs, “but I may be about to involve you in a major felony.”
    “In a good cause, I hope?”
    “I think so. Adept Sevolno told you about the attempt on my life last night. Did he tell you where he confined the prisoner?”
    “In the cell in your palace, my lord.”
    Wallie had a jail in his basement that his guards used as a brig if one of their number came on duty drunk, or otherwise offended. He had excused it to Jja on the grounds that a palace that didn’t have everything wouldn’t be much of a palace, would it? The children often played in it on rainy days.
    “I want you to arrange for her to be taken to the city jail and locked up in the dingiest, smelliest cell they’ve got. But she must be on her own. The city jail is usually pretty full, as I recall.”
    “Yes, my lord. I’ll have to get a cell emptied for her. Not that they won’t do it, or anything.”
    Not when a swordsman of his rank demanded it.
    “And obviously I want her very well guarded. Requisition some swordsmen to keep watch. There may be attempts to rescue her or kill her.”
    “And in either case we try to take prisoners?”
    “Of course. Tomorrow we’ll give her some company. Dig up some baby-faced junior who’ll cooperate and be discreet about it afterwards. One who can read. We’ll paint over his facemark and put him in her cell; see if she’ll talk.”
    “Adept Sevolno said—”
    “Yes, I know. She has no tongue. But she can still signal yea or nay.” If she were a sorcerer, she would be able to write.
    Filurz opened a door, letting Wallie walk through into warm, cozy odors of freshly baked bread. Apprentice Vixini was leaning back against a high worktable, gnawing on half a loaf while chatting up a couple of young slave girls. No doubt the older cooks in the distance disapproved of this, but they were not daring to criticize a swordsman, even a lowly Second. Addis, son of Nnanji, was hunched over, leaning hands and elbows on the worktable, watching but not participating. He was probably fair game for teasing at the moment.
    Wallie had not seen the boys together for a while and the contrast startled him. Apart from not growing facial hair, the men