‘Maybe he doesn’t know he’s doing it,’ Kalten suggested. ‘When he first went to work for Martel, Adus used to try to sneak around and spy on people. That’s why Martel had to finally hire Krager.’
‘Who’s Adus?’ Sarabian asked.
‘A fellow we used to know, your Majesty,’ Kalten replied. ‘He wasn’t of much use as a spy. Everybody for a hundred yards in any direction knew when Adus was around. He didn’t believe in bathing, so he had a distinctive fragrance.’
‘Is that at all possible?’ Vanion asked Sephrenia. ‘Could Kalten have actually come up with the right answer?’
‘Vanion!’ Kalten objected.
‘Sorry, Kalten. That didn’t come out exactly the way I’d intended. Seriously though, Sephrenia, could our visitor be unaware of the shadow he’s casting?’
‘Anything’s possible, I suppose, dear one.’
‘A visual stink?’ Ulath suggested incredulously.
‘I don’t know if I’d use that exact term, but –’ Sephrenia looked at Zalasta. ‘Is it possible?’
‘It would explain the phenomenon,’ he replied after pondering the notion for a moment. ‘The Gods are remarkable – not only in the depth of their understanding, but also in their limitations. It could very well be that our visitor doesn’t know that we can smell him when he pays a call – if I may borrow Sir Ulath’s metaphor. He may actually believe that he’s totally invisible to us – that his spying is going unnoticed.’
Bevier was shaking his head. ‘We always talk about it right after it happens,’ he disagreed. ‘He’d have heard us, so he has to know that he’s giving himself away.’
‘Not necessarily, Bevier,’ Kalten disagreed. ‘Adus didn’t know that he smelled like a cesspool, and it’s not really the sort of thing one admits to oneself. Maybe this shadow’s the same sort of thing – a kind of socially unacceptable offensiveness, like bad breath or poor table-manners.’
‘There’s a fascinating idea,’ Patriarch Emban laughed. ‘We could extrapolate a complete book of divine etiquette from this one single incident.’
‘To what purpose, your Grace?’ Oscagne asked him.
‘The noblest of purposes, your Excellency – the greater understanding of God. Isn’t that why we’re here?’
‘I’m not sure that a dissertation on the table-manners of the Gods would significantly advance the sum of human knowledge, Emban,’ Vanion observed. ‘Might we prevail on your Majesty to smooth our way into the inner circles of your government?’
‘Smooth or rough, Lord Vanion,’ Sarabian grinned, ‘I’ll insert you into the ministries. After I’ve straightened Pondia Subat out, I’ll take on the other ministers – one by one or row by row. I think it’s time they all found out just exactly who’s in charge here.’ He suddenly laughed with delight. ‘I’m so glad you decided to stop by, Ehlana. You and your friends have made me realise that I’ve been sitting on absolute power for all these years, and that it’s never occurred to me to use it. I think it’s time to pull it out, dust it off and wave it around just a bit.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Oscagne said, his face suddenly filled with chagrin. ‘What have I done?’
‘We got this yere problem, Stragen,’ Caalador drawled in Elenic. ‘These yere yaller brothers o’ ourn ain’t tooken with th’ notion o’ steppin’ ‘cross no social boundaries.’
‘Please, Caalador,’ Stragen said, ‘spare me the folksy preamble. Get to the point.’
‘T’aint really natch’ral, Stragen.’
‘Do you mind?’
Stragen, Talen and Caalador were meeting in a cellar near the waterfront. It was mid-morning, and the local thieves were beginning to stir. ‘As you’ve already discovered, the brotherhood here in Matherion’s afflicted with a caste system,’ Caalador continued. ‘The thieves’ guild doesn’t talk to the swindlers, and the beggar’s guild doesn’t talk to the whores – except in the line of business, of course – and the murderer’s guild is totally outcast.’
‘Now that there’s real on-natch-ral,’ Talen observed.
‘Don’t do that, Talen,’ Stragen told him. ‘One of you is bad enough. I couldn’t bear two. Why are the murderers so despised?’
‘Because they violate one of the basic precepts of Tamul culture,’ Caalador shrugged. ‘They’re paid assassins actually, and they don’t bow and scrape to their victims before they cut their throats. The concept of courtesy overwhelms Tamuls. They don’t really object to the notion of someone murdering noblemen for hire. It’s the rudeness of it all that upsets them.’ Caalador shook his head. ‘That’s one of the reasons so many Tamul thieves get caught and beheaded. It’s considered impolite to run away.’
‘Unbelievable,’ Talen murmured. ‘It’s worse than we thought, Stragen. If these people don’t talk to each other, we’ll never get any information out of them.’
‘I think I warned you not to expect too much here in Matherion, my friends,’ Caalador reminded them.
‘Are the rest of the guilds afraid of the murderers?’ Stragen asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ Caalador replied.
‘We’ll start from there then. What’s the general feeling about the emperor?’
‘Awe, generally, and a level of adoration that hovers right on the verge of outright worship.’
‘Good. Get in touch with the murderers’ guild. When Talen brings you the word, have the cutthroats round up the heads of the other guilds and bring them to the palace.’
‘What are we a-fixin’ t’ do here, m’ friend?’
‘I’ll speak with the emperor and see if I can persuade him to make a speech to our brothers,’ Stragen shrugged.
‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘Of course not. Tamuls are completely controlled by custom, and one of those customs is that the emperor can suspend customs.’
‘Were you able to follow that?’ Caalador asked Talen.
‘I think he lost me on that sharp turn right there at the end.’
‘Let’s see if I’ve got this straight,’ Caalador said to the blond Thalesian. ‘You’re going to violate every known propriety of the criminal culture here in Matherion by having the murderers kidnap the leaders of the other guilds.’