10 Paperchase
Holder Velgan of Sweetmeadow Hold was distraught;his hand holding the mug of klah T'lana had pressed upon him was shaking.
"I don't understand it! I don't understand why she did it!" he repeated again and again.
"Take it easy, Holder Velgan" T'lana said gently. "Tell us about it in your own words."
The Holder had sent his firelizard with a note requesting to be allowed to talk to 'the clever people who work things out'; as a result D're, technically a smokeless weyrling, had been sent out to collect him. D're being steady had been permitted to start flying Between by R'gar and was thrilled to have a responsible job. Holder Velgan had been able to thank the young man but it was doubtful that he took in the honour of having a Bronze Rider – even if the Bronze dragon was only three quarters grown – to pick him up. At T'lana's suggestion to tell his tale he shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, like a man who had received a blow to the head. The blow was, T'lana suspected, to his spirits rather than a physical one.
"Haven't shared a room with Gelina – m'wife – for some time" he said. "Problems. I can't …..you know."
The logicators nodded sympathetically and made the right noises, the men secure in their own ability to perform, the women – those that had weyrmates – smug in the performance of their men. Impotence was a problem to sympathise with sincerely! Velgan went on,
"I never thought I did anything to make her unhappy. Knew she had lovers – preferred not to see much, but knew they existed, you know?" he paused again. "She was….jumpy. unhappy. Almost….scared. only way I can describe it. Asked her what was wrong. She laughed. Mad little laugh. You know. Said nothing was wrong. Must have been though; after this, it shows it, you know?" tears rolled down his face.
"After what?" T'lana asked quietly.
"Didn't I say? Oh dear! She – she's killed herself. Overdose of fellis. Found her this morning" he broke down.
T'lana let him sob for a while then touched his arm gently.
"Did she have any…..I hate to use so strong a word as enemies, but those who might wish her harm?" she asked "That might have driven her to so drastic a course of action?"
He shook his head.
"No…..no! I'm sure not
"Ex lovers jealousies causing problems?"
"I don't think so….she picked itinerant craftsmen, stable boys….those that could have no expectation of marrying her or who would cause much stir….she was considerate to me that way."
"Did she know you were aware of her lovers?"
He stared, bewildered.
"I don't know….it was never mentioned. I assume she must have known I knew….please find out why she has done this!"
T'lana nodded.
"H'llon, you and Zaira go look at her room – and the body if you're able. Report back."
H'llon nodded solemnly. He was glad that Zaira was to go with him. Examining a lady's room – and potentially her body – made him uncomfortable.
Lady Gelina still lay on her bed. Velgan had touched nothing, he assured H'llon, and moved nothing, save in the checking if his wife still lived and picking up the mug of fellis to sniff it for confirmation of his worst fears. H'llon too checked the mug; its pungent scent was masked in the room by other, less pleasant smells caused by the relaxation of muscles at death. He briefly considered the concept that the Lady Gelina had been poisoned by her husband, or killed in some other wise, the mug of fellis introduced afterwards to confuse the issue; but to his mind the man's grief was genuine enough. Besides, he had no need to call in the logicators. Gelina's personal drudge and the Hold aunties would verify finding the fellis and nothing more would be said. He said as much to Zaira when Velgan had hastily left them to it.
"Always suspect the nearest and dearest when there's a sudden death, huh?" asked Zaira.
"It's the people who are closest who find the most reasons on a daily basis" said H'llon seriously "Or so it appears to me. Renegades are a convenient scapegoat for murders but if you review all our cases, you will find that most killings are done by close relatives."
"I don't doubt your theory. I'm glad you're big enough, my love, to recognise that it doesn't always work that way and be open minded if the facts don't fit."
"Anyone who makes facts fit his theory is a poor logicator" said H'llon.
"True. Now you look around the room and I'll strip and examine her" said Zira.
Rigor was well developed, as Zaira told H'llon; and the mouth as well as the mug smelled of fellis, indicating that the mug had not been left as a blind by any party.
"I see no signs of pregnancy" said Zaira "Such as might have been a Shame upon a woman no longer enjoying marital relations with her husband; besides, I see you have found the dirty linen basket and soiled sanitary garments."
"I'm glad I'm not a woman" said H'llon with feeling.
He moved on from the linen basket, and started examining a chest.
"This has been repaired quite nicely recently" he remarked. "The repair is better than the original build."
Zaira sighed.
"DEAR H'llon" she said "We're looking for clues. I know you take a professional interest…."
H'llon grinned ruefully.
"I like to see a job well done. And though it's not first rate, it is extremely competent" he left the chest to continue the search.
His gaze was arrested by the grate; and he knelt down.
"Ashes at this time of year?" he wondered "And it was a warm night…why, she's been burning paper!"
"PAPER? Why?" Zaira was alert. Only important documents were written on paper, not casual things to be burned. Not, at least, by most folk. Disposable notes would be scrawled on cloth, or on scraps of hide that really would not take any more scraping.
H'llon attempted to lift the ashes, but they started to crumble and he stopped immediately.
"I can see some words" he said "- burned white on the black. Write them down for me as I decipher them."
Zaira got out a notebook of small leaves. High Reaches Logicators DID treat paper as a disposable asset since H'llon made so much, and wrote up scribbled notes on finer paper for storage in the logicator archive held by the Harperweyr. Though their notebooks did find a secondary use in the Necessary before disposal, and were voted far more convenient that washing out rags by the rest of the weyr.
H'llon read carefully.
"'If' – there's a big space – 'don't g' – I guess that's give; next line, 'me'; next line 'tell'; next line 'we did' next line 'husband' final line 'or else'."
Zaira wrinkled her nose.
"It doesn't make much sense."
"It's mostly the words down one side and at the top; the middle's burned to white ash, and the right hand side is curled and crumbling."
Zaira came and looked, and wrote it out on a fresh sheet to study as it appeared.
if ... don't gi
me
tell
husband
or else.
"Sounds threatening to me" she said.
"Yes. To me too" said H'llon, worried.
The two weyrmates went down to find Holder Velgan.
H'llon asked bluntly,
"Do you know if your wife received any letter from anyone?"
The Holder looked confused.
"Letters? No I don't think so, no runners have been in carrying messages lately. But some of her girl friends have firelizards – as do I of course" he affectionately stroked the poll of his little green lizard "- so she might have been sent something by firelizard. They say some are clever enough and well enough trained to carry messages. My little Polla can only manage to take them to people she knows well…..why?"
"Yes, greens can be a little flighty" said H'llon. "There was a letter we found burned in the grate. We couldn't make much out; but it seemed…threatening."
"Who would threaten my lovely Gelina? She never harmed anyone!" wondered the distraught man.
"We're working on that" said H'llon, grimly. "But it would seem that the letter is the probable cause of her suicide; we shall not leave it at this, Holder Velgan, we shall track down the writer of the note, though I cannot say how soon it may be that we are able to find more. You can have the amenities and obsequies seen to if you wish though; we need no more from the body. Our deepest sympathy on your loss."
Holder Velgan bowed in thanks, too overcome to speak.
oOo
H'llon and Zaira reported to T'lana, who listened carefully and whistled in surprise.
"Paper?" hmm. Not a common commodity" commented the little weyrwoman. "Available to the Ranking, weyrfolk, Harpers and woodcrafters. And that's about it. Though I had an idea that you might do well selling some leaves at the weyr craftstall" she added.
"That's a thought" said H'llon. "People like to jot down new songs, and to sketch, as well as making more mundane notes. But I thought the use of paper seemed odd."
"I agree that the message looks like threats" said T'lana. "The 'or else' is a bit of a giveaway. Though I suppose anyone in a position to sneak after people's secrets to threaten them might also be in a position to steal leaves of paper."
"Sneak after people's secrets?" queried Zaira "What do you mean?"
"When I was a child" said T'lana "There was an unpleasant old woman who spied on people. She would whisper things like 'I seen you with so-and-so' to people – married people in unhappy unions, often with paramours – and she'd add 'give me some eggs – or milk- or whatever – and I'll forget it. Or else.' It's the 'or else' that made me think of it."
"Old hag!" commented Zaira. T'lana shrugged.
"They exist. Her son was a wastrel who didn't care for her properly; he never wed, preferred loving wenches. No daughters, no aunties, no family but him. I guess that's how it began in earnest, though people who do spy enjoy it for its own sake, or for the power it gives them over people. She made a lot of people miserable until one woman stood up to her and told the whole of the cotholders what Mazilla – the hag – had said. Of course, a lot of other people then admitted to it too, claiming she was nothing but a liar but that they'd paid up because they were afraid of not being believed. No smoke without fire, you know; in a cothold community, rumour can destroy a reputation. In Holds too, I imagine or crafthalls. And it was more comfortable for everyone to make the tacit pact that Mazilla was a liar than admit their own faults in order to point the finger at others. From what I recall, she was spot on most of the time, though" added T'lana thoughtfully. "I guess in some ways I learned a lot about logicating from watching her."
"Ugh!" commented Zaira.
"I was too little to understand really what was going on; it was a game" said T'lana, half apologetically.
"What do we do now?" asked H'llon. "I told Holder Velgan we'd try to find the author of that note, but I don't see where to start."
"Do? You go back and ask the man exactly what visitors his Hold had over the last three months – not casual ones, those who might have had opportunity to speak to the Lady Gelina or to visit her room. Those who whisper poison rarely wait long to do so."
H'llon nodded; and was off.
"Frankly, we've little chance of getting further" said T'lana to Zaira "Unless the creep tries it on with somebody else- someone who comes to us to complain of it."
"If they don't?"
"Then I suppose we must wait for someone else to commit suicide and check who visited them." Said T'lana.
"That sounds cold blooded."
T'lana touched her face.
"Dear one, if I don't make myself cold blooded about some of the things we investigate I get upset. And that upsets Mirrith. And our primary job is, after all, to stay calm and fight Thread" she explained.
H'llon returned before long with a list.
"Velgan wasn't sure about times or dates" he said apologetically. "He wasn't even that sure about people. I had to keep prompting, but I don't think I put words in his mouth; I used words like 'relatives' and 'girl friends' and 'craftsmen'."
"That's scarcely putting words in his mout, dear one" said T'lana, taking the list from him. Being H'llon, it was neatly divided into kinds of people. The first category was 'female friends'. T'lana scanned it.
"Her sister Gelra – highly unlikely. She'd use speech to hint poison, not a note if it were she, claiming sister's privilege to see her. Zeleika. Zeleika gets about, doesn't she!"
"You're not seriously suggesting her, are you?" asked Zaira, sharply. "She's a friend of Rillys, and Rillys is no fool to pick a false friend."
"Yes, I know. She's also footloose and fancy free. No, I'm not seriously suggesting her – but she does get about. She might have been told something by other victims, which might provide a shortcut to our searching."
"But there might not be any other victims" said H'llon.
T'lana shook her head.
"These people never stop at one. It's called blackmail. Look at your Holmes – Charles Augustus Milverton in the scandal in Bohemia Hold. And it's mentioned obliquely in the Charter too, I checked it up in the Harperweyr copy, it's clearer than the Weyr copy."
H'llon nodded.
"Of course! The Bohemia case had some dirty cases mentioned in it. Not enjoyable to read at all."
"Crime IS dirty, dear one" said T'lana. "Who else is on this list….Lady Bellanda and party, being a distant connection of the Lady; somehow the idea of B'lova's mother sneaking around in the passageways spying has a bizarre and unnatural ring to it."
H'llon and Zaira laughed at that idea!
T'lana read on into the next list.
"Itinerant journeymen. Several of these and all, by Holder Velgan's suggestions potential lovers. Incidentally, and speaking of lovers, if it's an ex lover who is a stable boy, say, he'd not stop at the lady, but would try it on with the servants and other holderfolk as well. We should get M'gol to wander in and ask questions; he's good with serving wenches."
"Not now he's weyring with J'nara" quipped Zaira.
"Minx. You know what I mean" T'lana looked thoughtful. "Who have we here, anyway… a runnerbeast trader, selling, long standing order. A Harper, message for Hold Harper from the Harper Hall, new songs. A woodcrafter, mending the chest in Lady Gelina's room. A glasscrafter, replenishing a set of glasses to match the remaining ones that had been an espousal gift. Finally, a weaver, measuring rooms for new tapestries, two matching showing the local fauna and flora – expensive" she added.
M'gol, accompanied by J'nara, visited the Hold; and with their knots not on display managed to convey the impression that they were personal drudges of the weyrfolk who had been visiting so much since the Lady's demise. M'gol told a few slightly scurrilous tales of weyr life to gain the confidence of the men, and J'nara spun romantic stories for the women. M'gol winked a lot, and J'nara looked winsome; and though the tale – heavily hinted at and not alluded to directly – of the Lady's involvement with a particular groom emerged, no-one seemed aware of any threats or blackmail.
The pair reported in the negative.
"Well, that possibility is ruled out" said T'lana "Leaving the visitors. M'gol, you know Zeleika, don't you?"
"I've a nodding acquaintance."
"I'd be obliged if you could find out where the dizzy wench is right now and invite her on my behalf on a visit to the Weyr."
"Do my best!" M'gol gave a wink and a grin to his milk-brother's weyrmate and left on his quest.
J'nara muttered something about 'little boy'; but her censure of his manner lacked the bite of old!
Zeleika was a little nervous at M'gol's charmingly-worded but forceful invitation that was in effect a summons. She knew T'lana slightly, having been introduced by Rillys at her friend's espousal ceremony to the dragonless man, Corbin. She found the red-haired weyrwoman a trifle intimidating in her positive and forceful personality; herself quite forceful, Zeleika was unused to finding women so positive outside the Weyr. Consequently the Holder woman gave a deferential bob of the head when she came into T'lana's room, though she had sworn to herself she would not do so!
T'lana smiled warmly.
"Come and sit down, Zeleika. I've klah here. I do apologise for, well, summoning you in so peremptory a way, I hope you're not offended."
"No – no, not at all" Zeleika found herself swept along by the personality of the little weyrwoman and felt her momentary resentment ebb away under her friendliness. T'lana went on,
"In truth, Zeleika, I need your help; but being pregnant I can't stir from the Weyr – not going Between anyway – so I asked M'gol if he'd mind asking you to visit."
"I – I'm delighted to be of any help I can be to the Weyr!" Zeleika, rather vain, was flattered. "It's an honour to be invited to the Weyr!" that was also true; Zeleika did enjoy her vicarious relations with the weyrfolk – and now she had a personal connection! T'lana smiled privately at the thought of the socially active Zeleika scoring points over some woman she disliked by dropping casually into conversation something like 'well when I was last talking to Queenrider T'lana….'.
"Rillys has told me how kind you are!" said the little weyrwoman "And I know that you know so many people around the High Reaches and Nabol region. The truth is, we believe that somebody is threatening Ranking people – maybe just ladies – with revealing their secrets. One lady has committed suicide; an acquaintance of yours. And we want to stop it."
Zeleika looked horrified.
"How terrible! Who has been driven to take her own life?"
T'lana hesitated.
"I am discreet" said Zeleika "And you said it was an acquaintance…. I would surely find out anyway some time."
"I'm sorry. Of course you are discreet. It was Lady Gelina of Sweetmeadow."
"Great Shells!" Zeleika was stunned. "But what could anyone find to threaten Gelina with?"
"Lovers. Specifically, I think, the blackmailer himself" said T'lana, dourly.
"But Velgan must have known!"
"And suppose Gelina thought he didn't know? Was she as fond of him as he appears to have been of her?"
"Oh yes, she was extremely fond of him; she asked my advice on…..matters to help him, as I'm well known to be…..experienced with men" said Zeleika, flushing slightly. "She hoped to have a relationship with him rather than lovers….but that was some turns back and nothing I could suggest had the required effect" she shrugged. "For some men an inability to perform is in their heads, and that you can fix with a few judicious….love games. For those for whom it is a physical problem, there's no cure I know of. But she'd hate to hurt him, if she thought him ignorant of her er, activities. But how can I help?"
"You helped me generally already by telling me some men with such problems can be helped….we don't have such problems when dragons are involved but it might come in handy. I wonder if it would have helped if she had had a blue firelizard to mate with his green?" wondered T'lana, sidetracked into helping with other problems.
"I never thought of that" said Zeleika. "IS it like dragonlust then?"
"We-ell, kind of…it's not so strong, you can put it to the back of your mind, just experience some, uh, physical manifestations of the backwash of lust…..but you can't ignore it when your dragon is involved. You ARE the dragon. You can touch THROUGH the firelizard. It gives some idea" T'lana explained. "But back to the business in hand; what I would like you to do is to think of all the places you've been to recently, visiting; you're almost as peripatetic as a Holdless trader, and that's to our advantage. I want you to think if your friends and acquaintances have been under any strain – upset or nervous. I guess it's too much to hope any would have confided in you over receiving nasty threatening letters."
Zeleika frowned in thought.
"Well… yes, there have been a few…. Not that anyone has said anything outright….but recently – well, I've been at Highspire."
T'lana pulled a face.
"I've heard it's an unhappy Hold at the best of times."
Zeleika nodded.
"And all over silliness. Dalia and Dara. Dara, Trabin's wife, was fostered with me for a while – like Rillys. Dalia came with her as her milk sister. It's quite likely that they are also half sisters. You can imagine the jealousies that that can cause even before Dara married Trabin."
T'lana nodded.
"It's the fault of the parents of course" she said. "If they'd been brought up with a little more care they could have been friends."
Zeleika sighed.
"They are. Sometimes" she said. "They have this peculiar relationship – loving and hating each other in almost equal measure. I do not suppose for one moment they'd have got to this ridiculous state if Trabin's daughter Trassela hadn't resented her father remarrying. Without giving them a chance to make friends with her she started causing trouble. Such a pity; I've been trying to patch things up between them" she shrugged self deprecatingly.
"I wish you the very best of luck in that endeavour!" said T'lana fervently. "There's a 'But' in there though, isn't there? That is pertinent to my queries?"
Zeleika nodded.
"It's Dalia. She's frightened of something."
T'lana gave a grin of satisfaction.
"Good. I mean, I'm sorry."
Zeleika smiled suddenly.
"You mean 'good'" she said. "That answers a question I've sometimes asked myself – whether you really are so straightforward and frank as you appear, or just very good at manipulating people."
T'lana blushed.
"Manipulating people? Hey, I know I'm bossy – it goes with the territory of being a Queenrider – but I don't think I've ever done that. It sounds kind of devious."
"So I see. It's nice to know there are genuine people about. Oh, shells, I guess I shouldn't have spoken like that to a weyrwoman!" she suddenly covered her mouth with her hands.
T'lana laughed.
"I'm glad you did. I like straightforwardness too!" she grinned; then pulled a grimace. "I REALLY want to go to Highspire. Still, it's not so far Straight flight, not really. By the time you've got up you're coming down as the old uncle complained to the loving wench. And if I don't tell anyone before I go, they can't forbid me" she gave a conspiratorial grin. "C'mon, let's go, and we can be back in time for supper. Which will be worth it; because Keerana's trying a new recipe for peppercorn sauce from Ista to go with roast herdbeast and there are the earliest of new tubers from southern Nabol."
Zeleika knew that to ride on a Golden Queen dragon was a pinnacle of social success! Besides, she was genuinely glad that T'lana might just be able to help her friend – both her friends, she thought, for she liked both Dara and Dalia and had mediated between them more than once in the girls' dormitory in her father's Hold.
Dalia was inclined to be truculent at the interference of weyrfolk in her life; but Zeleika was firm.
"Dalia, T'lana can help you. Tell her, weyrwoman T'lana."
T'lana smiled reassuringly.
"Dalia – I have reason to think that someone has written you a letter suggesting that you pay for information about you not to be passed on."
Dalia went white.
"What have you been saying?" she cried to Zeleika.
"Only what I was asked – which of my friends seemed frightened. I want to HELP you."
There was a rustle of a hanging, a fine piece of brocade depicting a mating flight surrounded by swags of indeterminate foliage with arrow shaped leaves. A woman not unlike Dalia came through the door concealed by the hanging. Such hangings kept a lot of draughts out in the cold High Reaches winters!
"I overheard that last conversation" said the woman, who had to be Dara. "If you've received unpleasant letters too, Dalia, let us get it stopped now."
"Too?" the Holder's mistress blinked.
Dara came forward.
"Too" she reiterated. "I thought it was some prank of Trassela's. But if a weyrwoman is involved I imagine there's more to it than that."
T'lana regarded her gravely.
"A woman has died by her own hand because of the person who sends these letters. I am asking both of you to tell me what you know."
Dara threw herself onto a sofa and patted the seat beside her, looking at Dalia. After a moment's hesitation the other woman sat down beside her. Dara slipped an arm through her half sister's.
"The letter suggested that since my husband looked elsewhere for his entertainment that I had done so too. The guess was well off the mark. The writer suggested the Hold Harper because I'm learning a lot from him – and he suggested more than simple fingering."
Dalia said quickly
"But that's impossible!"
Dara chuckled.
"Exactly. But Trassela's so straight-laced I thought it might not have occurred to her – when I thought it was Trassela. Obviously an outsider would not know."
T'lana raised an enquiring eyebrow; and Dara explained, giggling.
"Allusend only likes other men. I don't mind telling you, because weyrfolk don't mind. And Zeleika's no innocent girl to be shocked."
"I'll take that as a compliment" said Zeleika.
"Did you show your husband the letter?" asked T'lana.
"Are you joking? It was filthy. And remember, I thought Trasseela was the perpetrator. It would hurt Trabin if he had found out she'd done something of that order. I burned it."
T'lana said a short, ugly, scatological word.
"I have the one written to me" said Dalia. "It frightened me. I'd done nothing serious, but I didn't know if Trabin would understand…." She pulled a face. "I'll go get it."
She left the room for a few minutes and returned with a scrap of paper.
T'lana read it out loud.
"'Lady Dalia. If you do not give me fifty marks I will send the letter you received from Lord Cordet to Lord Trabin. You'd better pay up, or else. Put it in a bag at the next Hold Gather and leave it in behind the side pillar nearest the door.' Hm" said T'lana. "This gives a means of leaving the money that must have burned off the other one. If the worst comes to the worst we can catch him that way, red handed. Tell me about this letter from Lord Cordet."
Dalia gave a tight little laugh.
"Cordet's just a boy. He fell for me, puppy love. There was nothing in it; but he wrote me a wild and indiscreet note. I kept it because it was flattering. But I don't know HOW this – this PERSON could have found it!"
"Where did you keep it?"
"In a secret drawer in my clothes press. It's worked with a hidden catch. I keep the contraceptive herbs there too, to make sure I don't have a child before Dara conceives."
Dara touched her arm.
"Thank you; that's really considerate" she said. Dalia smiled at her.
T'lana was looking quizzically at the Holder's mistress.
"Tell me, have you had any work, repair work, done in the Hold recently?" she asked.
The women exchanged glances, rather embarrassed.
"There was some repair work to chairs" said Dalia in a small voice.
"Extensive repairs" added Dara, dryly. "Our respective….partisans…came to blows."
"Oh really, how ridiculous!" exploded Zeleika. "It's an example of what I've been saying to you all along! You two are making Trabin and Highspire quite laughable!"
Both women looked uncomfortable; and with one accord turned their eyes on T'lana, to confirm what Zeleika said.
"It is a matter of unkind and ribald gossip" she said, bluntly. "One of our people experienced it first hand – and might have suffered fatal accident – when one of your partisans sought to trip the servant of the other with a tripwire on stairs. A dangerous and childish prank for a grown man, and by – my friend's – comments possibly the spoiled and pampered catamite of your Harper, or one of similar ilk."
The women exchanged glances again.
"Vardek!" they said with one voice.
"I will speak to him about such pranks" said Dara grimly. "But believe me, I never meant to hurt Trabin!"
"Nor I!" his mistress concurred.
They turned again to T'lana. Their expressions plainly asked for her to fix it.
"Right!" said the Queenrider crisply. "We are agreed, I think, that at bottom you want to be fond of each other – but each has got it into her head that she has cause for jealously of the other?"
They looked sheepishly at each other; and nodded.
"Then first you must talk through what each envies in the other. In private; and NO raised voices. Then, I suggest, you BOTH go to bed with Holder Trabin with the intention of pleasing him."
"Both?" Dara was scandalised.
"Together?" so was Dalia.
"Why not? If you share him together there's going to be no room for jealousy. And the Charter makes no mention of how many spouses a man can have; a fact, if you recall, Fax exploited. If Dalia weds him too, you will be equals and no room for any malicious gossip. And having reached agreement, you can discuss how to sort out your warring supporters. There's a drudge here named Clemelly who has, I'm told, uncommon good sense. Get her to help; and the steward, who holds himself aloof from faction fighting. And the Weyr can help by broadcasting how helpful the pair of you were to pretend to be at loggerheads in order to tempt the blackmailer in; and that saves face all around."
"It's brilliant!" ventured Zeleika.
Her friends looked at her dubiously; then at each other. There was an unspoken conversation, and an embrace.
"But can we?" asked Dalia "Help catch him, I mean?"
T'lana nodded.
"Oh you have. I know who it is now. It might have been almost anyone capable of pumping maids to get ordinary gossip – but not to purloin a letter. That had to have been removed by someone who understood furniture – and the manufacture of secret drawers."
"Journeyman Revis the woodcrafter!" gasped Dara. "He tried to flirt with me too, the little creep!"
"Indeed. And a woodcrafter was at the Hold where another incident took place. You have now supplied me with his name. I already wondered about a woodcrafter, since he is one of four types of people with free access to paper. Others could conceivably have stolen it; but the coincidence of mended woodwork and the opening of a secret drawer makes me certain."
H'llon was furious when T'lana told the other logicators of her deductions; but she refused to let him be the one to find Journeyman Revis.
"You might get….overwrought, dear one" she said. "You shall report to Master Bendarek when it has been proven. If indeed I am correct."
M'gol sought permission from Lord Bargen to have the itinerant crafter's quarters searched when he could be traced; and hearing the history, the Lord Holder readily sent one of his men and the Harper Samwil to see justice served.
Revis was in the act of writing one of his nasty letters when the three men kicked down his door at the Hold where he was then working; as it happened, Riverbend, so they had also the full cooperation of Holder Marlov.
Bargen could find no reason for mercy towards such a spreader of misery; and handed out the rare death sentence, though asking Bendarek to ratify it as a matter of courtesy.
Bendarek, filled in by H'llon, endorsed the sentence grimly with the comment,
"Crafters are supposed to be trustworthy and discreet when working in other folk's holds."
H'llon was satisfied that justice had been done too.
"That fellow is worse in many ways than a murderer!" the young woodcrafter declared hotly. "For he drags out a misery and inflicts fear that causes little deaths of the spirit over and over!"
"And I say" said T'lana "If we ever come across one who has killed such to be free of their tortures that we should in general terms account it no crime."
"Agreed" said H'llon!