move against the Imaiz if the necessity arose?’
‘The lords of Anharitte have certain rights of arms. Outside those, whoever destroys the peace of Anharitte will be forced to account to me. That goes for the Imaiz , for the other lords—and most especially for you, Ren. Agent you may be, but if you assume the role of agent provocateur , then you’ll not find us so hospitable.’
Ren scowled with disappointment. ‘I doubt the other lords would condone your tolerance toward the activities of Dion-daizan and his slaves.’
The prefect exploded in anger. ‘You’re an outworlder, Ren. Don’t try and tell me what Di Rode and Di Guaard and the Lady T’Ampere would or wouldn’t think. I was raised with these people. I know what they think better than they know it themselves.’
‘But you weren’t raised with the Imaiz ,’ said Ren coldly. ‘Because the suggestion is very strong that he’s a Terran. Don’t tell me that doesn’t offend your precious law?’
For the first time Di Irons seemed unsure of himself.
‘You have evidence to support that statement?’
‘No positive proof as yet. But I will have. Don’t you query the rights of the claimants to your aristocratic Houses?’
‘Query?’ Di Irons was grimly amused. ‘Do you think I would dare look closely at the credentials of Di Rode or Di Guaard—or they at mine? How many murdered infants do you suppose would be found in the moats? Which unfortunate son went alive into his tomb behind the new wall in the tower? Whose mother is that demented crone who has sat in chains for thirty years in the dungeon? The rights of the title go to the claimant with the ability to survive at the top. The state acknowledges the title of the House—the holder of the title declares himself.’
‘I understand all that,’ said Ren patiently. ‘But surely the position is different if the occupant of the title is an outworlder?’
‘It would be—if the matter could be proved. Then I would have to act. But you’ve admitted you don’t have the evidence. Until you do, I submit you’re playing a very dangerous game.’
‘Dangerous in what way?’ asked Ren.
‘I know Dion well. He’s shrewd, resourceful—and his information is impeccable. What do you think he’ll be doing while you wander the countryside trying to stir trouble against him? I strongly advise you to guard your back, not to visit dark places alone and to engage a taster to test your food. If you were to die—I’m sure I’d have a hard time trying to hang the responsibility on Dion-daizan.’
‘I’ll remember that. But in the meantime think over what I’ve said. I doubt even you would refuse a quarter of Magda’s share of the income from the spaceports concession.’
‘I prize some things above money,’ said Di Irons. ‘And one of them is life. Nobody in his senses provokes a needless quarrel with a man as far-reaching and formidable as Dion-daizan. I know it’s not fashionable among Free Traders to speak of magic and superstitions, but some of the works of the Imaiz are well beyond the powers of man.’
‘That I must yet have proved to me,’ said Tito Ren. ‘For the moment I prefer to regard him merely as an academic Terran adventurer with no supernatural powers.’
‘It would be churlish of me,’ said Di Irons, ‘not to wish you a successful venture. If what you’ve told me is true I stand to gain or lose as much as you. But I would need more reason than you’ve given before I raised my hand against the wizard of Anharitte. Take care, merchant. You’ve chosen a stronger enemy than you think.’
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. A watchman came in, apologized for the intrusion and handed Di Irons a note. The latter read it, looked questioningly at Ren for a moment—then his face broke into a wry smile.
‘It appears I spoke more truly than I knew. Don’t tell me after this that you don’t believe in the powers of the Imaiz .’
‘Why? What’s
Jeffrey Cook, A.J. Downey