Chapter 19

“You simply must come tonight,” Sechelle said as Aden pulled up his boots, just as he had done for the last two weeks. The overstuffed chair felt ridiculously comfortable, suitable for a cigar and a shot of northern whiskey. “Everybody who is anybody is going to be here, including the governor and his wife. Three weeks it took me to convince her to get her fat ass over here.”

Aden did his best to keep the judgment off his face. She may be a lady and she may be rolling in the riches again, but she had a mouth that could chase rats out of the deepest gutter. At one moment she could be proper and endearing, and in the next, she could rip out chunks of flesh with her sharp tongue.

“As I explained over dinner last night,” Aden said, “I am behind in my search and I must find the answers. The governor is pressing, and he is not tolerating my excuses any longer.”

“Feh,” she said. “You have all those toys in the basement and yet, you have to run off to that drafty old haunt every day. You should be spending time with me, which would be infinitely more productive to the business of the day.”

“Making wealth and lording it over your peers does have a certain appeal,” Aden said as he tugged on his britches as he stood up. “However, I am also charged with other needs of the day. With regret for the absence from the delights to be found in your home, Sechelle, I must depart for the city proper.”

“A great wizard would just pop over there,” Sechelle said.

“A great wizard appears where he needs to be when he needs to be, without anyone noticing,” Aden said. “Enjoy your day and I will do my best to return promptly this evening.”

Aden detoured through the kitchen and gladly accepted the thin slab of meat shoved into a sliced roll with some sort of spread. He said his thanks and walked into the hallway where he paused to take a bite. “At least he comes down at a decent hour and minds his manners,” he heard the cook’s assistance say. “Her ladyship won’t be down for an hour, demanding something the market hasn’t had for weeks, and those two boys won’t even show their faces until noon. All they’ll want is a tonic for last night’s debauchery.”

Striding across the house, Aden ran for the basement as quietly as he could, filling his satchel with as much as he could carry. Afterward, he marched to the stables. Since Sechelle did not wish to risk one of the finer horses that were usually hitched to the carriage, he was left to ride a nag that had seen better days. Still, the servants walked. The way Sechelle carried on sometimes, Aden was often guessing if he was only a little above their positions. She had a focused regard for her own, high position, especially with her new wherewithal.

Leaving the property each morning after a night in the lady’s bed put him in a reflective mood. Was there a place for him in this city? He may be intimate with Sechelle, but she was no intimate. He felt scrutinized in her presence, carefully guarding his words lest he reveal his business and his secrets. He glanced back at the mansion, confirming to himself that a weight was lifting off his shoulders the further he travelled from the property. Perhaps tonight would be his last night in her bed. His side of the vault was almost empty.

After putting away the artifacts in the master’s safe, Aden settled into the cushioned chair in front of the fireplace with the secretary’s book. He was almost done with the text; yet, he had gained precious few clues as the reasons for the school. They practiced a good deal of the day. They ate through supplies for the laboratories and their excursions out into the province. Despite these rote details, the notes did not clarify what they did indoors or outdoors, only that they went and did. The daily journal was mundane. If the journal was the only clue, then little of consequence happened in the building, yet Aden was certain that conclusion was not true.

His search was thwarted again, this time by the blasé writing of a secretary who appeared to be bored by his life. Aden wanted to hurl the book across the room, but he stopped himself. Banging the desktop with both fists, he stood to pace the room. A glance out the windows reminded him that evening was near, and the dreaded “little get-together” was ever nearer.

The old nag really was good for something. The entire trip through the city and up the ridge gave Aden time to find a frame of mind that he could maintain for the evening. While his first intuition was to act as unobtrusive as possible, he surmised that Sechelle would be trotting him out as a new bauble to display. Playing the boisterous expert on all things wizardly was a definite no-no, leading to bizarre and compromising requests asked, often with indiscretion and a tinge of threat. The richer and more powerful the petitioner was, the more brazen the request was. He had a sure path of guidance: he practiced his strategy of listening first, asking questions second, and only speaking if backed into a corner with a sword at his throat, or something akin to that weapon.

How he had hated temple patrons. He would have rather scrubbed the toilets like a novice than sit in the receiving room sharing a cup of tea with the local and regional powers. The Prime had decreed that every Master who ate at the communal table had to raise the funds to keep the place going. He would sit on the flattened cushion in his best robes and listen to his new-found friends brag about how wonderful they, their families, their businesses and their friends were, and how they needed just a little push or pull to make their world ever so much more wonderful. Praise phyzeec and the miracles of the world!

What could have been executed in five minutes would take two hours. People would confuse him with a priest who could speak to the gods, or the enlightened being who could grasp the foundation of the Earth, and he never disabused them of their notions, not even once. Although he could not point to one specific example, Aden believed that such attitudes had kept him safe and away from harm in the towns, cities, and villages of his homeland. He never received free drinks though, one of his acknowledgements of failure as an accomplished practitioner in the provinces.

Without any directions from Aden, the nag trotted into the stable with more excitement than usual. The creature deftly dodged around all the ornate carriages clogging the courtyard, as if she was highly trained in the art. “Food is a prime motivator for dumb animals,” Aden said to the stable hand, neglecting to mention that he was referring to the gathered mob of polished peers. He shook his head at his own indiscretion, as he walked towards the front door.

The butler looked particularly constipated when Aden crossed the threshold, although the man was not looking at him. An old man was pointing the end of his cane at the butler, shaking with dramatic indignation. Aden marched through the two men without looking at either of them. Using his index finger, he moved the cane out of his way and coincidentally, away from the butler. “Carry on,” Aden said with a flourish of fingers waggling over his shoulder, knowing well that nothing was going to carry on behind him.

Several crowds of people were spread among the sitting room, the library, and the game room. Aden did his best to slip past all of them, including the unlucky who were waiting in the hallway. Past the party, he strode with purpose to the kitchen, where he slipped through the doorway without any guests taking note that he could tell.

“Something, please,” Aden said to the cook’s assistant. “Anything will do.”

“There’s black bread on the sideboard and hard cheese on the other side of the knife,” she said. “Maudy is cooking up a grand fare though. You wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.”

“Maudy is a tremendous cook and I remember every dish she has served me these past weeks,” Aden said. “The gathered company is so demanding that I will hardly have time to take up a fork, much less taste it. If, and I do mean if, Maudy has an extra serving to two, perhaps I will be able to taste her cooking at the end of the night. Now, excuse me while I grab a bite and go to work.”

“Fair warning to you, sir,” one of the servers said as he stepped in with an empty tray. “Madam’s eldest has already dipped deeply into the barrel and he is in full soliloquy over the quality of your person. In the library, sir.”

Aden held up a thick slice of bread and a goodly chunk of cheese. The robust flavor reminded him of a kitchen somewhere far away in a place whose name he could not recall. He broke off a piece of cheese and stuffed it in his mouth as well. Wiping the crumbs off his face, Aden straightened his back and walked back to the party.

He stopped another servant and asked where the lady was holding court. She was in the sitting room, of course, speaking her mind from her favorite chair, the one that had a bit of extra padding at the small of her back, which helped her sit up straight and push out her breasts. Aden had been warned that presentation was everything. While her dress was designed to accentuate her best features and compete with the other vixens, his master’s jacket was built with unobtrusive pockets, where he stored a dagger. The chair was remarkable for what it did, but Aden considered his jacket much more worthwhile.