Four and Twenty Blackbirds

specially licensed and bonded Bodyguard, but not bad. Ten silver a week for twelve weeks; enough, supposedly, to make you unbribable.'

Since that sum was more than he had made per week after all his years on the force at Haldene, he hardly knew what to say except—'It is.'

And with no personal expenses to speak of— it'squitegood.Food, lodging, uniforms—the Church supplied all of these. What would hedo with ten silver pieces a week?

She nodded briskly. 'Good. Anything else you need to know?'

He held the tunic up a little. 'This. It's not what I expected—' He flushed. 'Actually, it seems a bit . . . gaudy. I thought I'd be wearing black or something.'

Kayne laughed, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. 'That's because you've never been in an Abbey of the Justiciars before. You should see all of us in our ecclesiastical best—you'd think the room was on fire.'

'Ah.' He'd noted the red robe that Ardis wore, and the rust-colored one of the novices, but it hadn't occurred to him that these were their equivalent of working clothes. 'So on an occasion like a High Holy Day, we Guards wouldn't stand out at all, would we?'

'In fact, you'll blend in,' she assured him, 'And if you wore, say, black—like the Guards of the Healing Orders—you'd stand out like crows against a sunset.'

At that moment, a bell sounded somewhere, and Kayne cocked her head to one side. 'That's the bell for dinner, and I believe I hear one of the other Guards coming to show you the way.' No sooner had the words passed her lips than a shadow blocked the door, and a discreet tap on the frame proved that she was right.

She turned, as the biggest man that Tal had ever seen eased himself into the room. 'Well, this is an honor, indeed! Tal Rufen, this is the Captain of our Guards, Herris Othorp.'

The huge, black-haired man who was clearly several years Tal's junior gravely offered a ham of a hand to Tal to shake. Tal took it, and was pleased and relieved when the handclasp was firm without being a test of dominance. It seemed that Herris Othorp saw no reason to prove he was a better, stronger man than those under his command.

What a pleasant change!

'I am pleased to welcome the new Special Inquisitor,' Othorp rumbled, actuallysounding pleased. 'I have told the High Bishop more than once that her office requires at least one. No one among the Guards has had any experience in investigation; I wouldn't have the faintest idea of where to start if I were assigned to a case.'

'Don't be too pleased,' Tal warned. 'Maybe I have experience, but I'm not sure I'm any good!'

At that, Othorp laughed, a deep bass rumble. Tal decided that this man was going to be, not only easy to work with but a definite ally. 'I think we should let God and Time judge that, and go to our dinner.'

'And on that note, I shall take leave of both of you,' Kayne said, and turned with that swift agility that Tal had noted in the High Bishop's office, and left them.

Othorp waited expectantly, and after a moment, Tal realized that the Captain was waiting for Tal to assume one of his new uniforms. Feeling a little self-conscious, Tal shed his old, worn canvas trews and knitted woolen tunic, and did so. When he belted the new tunic and pulled it straight, the Captain beamed with as much pride as if he had tailored the uniform himself.

'You make a fine show, Inquisitor, and that's a fact,' Othorp told him. 'When you aren't out investigating, I'd like to have you up in the front ranks at our major ceremonies, if you've no objection. It's a pity, but half the old fellows here are just that—old fellows, one short step from collecting their pensions. They look sad, that's the truth of it. What used to be their chest has gone south, you might say, and I'm afraid they think more of their dinners than they do of why they need to be in shape.'

'And why do they need to be in shape?' Tal asked curiously as he preceded the Captain out the door and into the hallway. 'Other than for ceremonial occasions, that is?' He coughed. 'I hope you'll forgive me for saying this, but it would seem to me that an Abbey full of Justiciars would be the last place a troublemaker would care to go. Constables in general reckon a position like Church Guard is a soft berth.'

Othorp's face darkened, but not with anger; he was very clearly worried. 'You'd think that, wouldn't you.' He made it a statement, not a question. 'Think about it, though. Someone has a suspect, they want the truth out of him—they bring him to Justiciar Arran to see if Arran can use his magic to call it out. City constables have evidence, have a group of suspects, they call in the High Bishop or one of the other mages to link the two. And when it's Judgment time for misuse of magic, murder, rape, serious crimes, who is the one who sets the penalties if the Duke and his two Judges don't have the time or don't feel qualified to make a Judgment? Justiciars, that's who. And the more serious the crime, the more likely it is that it'll be passed here across the river.' He shook his head as he walked.

Tal suddenly felt very stupid. 'That's a lot of enemies,' he said slowly. 'The bad lads tend to put the blame on anybody but themselves for what happens to them.'