Four and Twenty Blackbirds

'And not all of them wind up doing the rope-dance. Some of them even see out their time and get turned loose.' Othorp sighed heavily. 'And do you think I can getone of them to believe that they might be the chosen target of some very bad people and take care about their movements?' He shook his head. 'That'swhy I wish we could just retire our old men when they get too fat to run, but they're sentimental around here, though you wouldn't think it. They won't hear of sending a man off to pasture on half-pay and replacing him with someone younger.'

Tal shrugged; there wasn't much he could add to that. 'Maybe you could urge it on appearances—it doesn't look good for Church Guards to look fat—like, aren't we supposed to be part of the chastity and poverty business?'

Othorp chuckled, and rubbed his heavy eyebrow with his forefinger. 'I could try that. At the least, it might get the High Bishop to order some of these old fellows on a serious training regimen. Reducing diets won't work; most of them are steady customers of the inns across the river.'

By now they had reached the tall wooden door at the end of the hallway; Othorp pushed it open, and Tal looked into the refectory.

He'd had occasion to stay at Abbeys of the Wayfaring Order a time or two when he'd taken excursions into the country, and these dining-halls all looked alike. The one thing that struck him as odd about this one was the relative quiet. Beneath a high ceiling crossed with age- and smoke-blackened beams, tables and benches were arranged with mathematical precision on a plain, scrubbed wooden floor. At two of them, rows of scarlet-clad Guards were already waiting for their meal, talking in hushed voices. From another door, Priests in the scarlet robes of the Justiciars, and novices in the same rust-colored gowns that Kayne wore were filing in silently to take their places at the rest of the tables. They must have been wearing soft-soled boots or slippers of some sort, as their footfalls were barely audible.

All four walls were plastered white, with dark beams exposed. One wall held a huge fireplace, the opposite one nearest Tal and Othorp had three windows glazed with tiny diamond-shaped panes of glass in lead. There was a raised dais of dark wood at the far end of the room with a wooden lectern on it; beside the lectern was another table, this time with only a single bench behind it. Othorp led Tal to the second table full of Guards; there were wooden plates of bread and cheese already on the table, wooden spoons, mugs, plates, and bowls before each place. Someone—probably Kayne,he thought—must have informed the kitchen staff of his arrival, for there was an extra place laid ready for him. He and Othorp were the last of the Guards to arrive, and it was plain that Othorp had only spoken truth when he commented how important their dinners were to some of these men.

When the last of the Priests had taken his or her place at a bench, the High Bishop entered, followed by four other Priests, all male. All of them wore the standard cowled scarlet robe, belted with a black cord. The High Bishop wore a small round cap of scarlet on her short blond hair; the rest went bareheaded.

'That's Arran, Leod, Harden, and Cole,' Othorp whispered. 'Chief Justiciar, Chief Clerk, Chief Exchequer, and Chief Household. You'll only have much to do with Arran and Cole; you'll only see Harden if you need to draw out some extraordinary expense and Kayne can't handle it for you—and as for Leod, write your own letters, he has a knack for making a man feel like a chunk of street-scum.'

Of the four, Arran and Cole looked the easiest to deal with. Ardis took her place in the middle of the table. Arran, a tall, raw-boned man with a mouth like Ardis's and the kindest eyes Tal had ever seen, took his place beside Ardis on the right. Cole, lean, bald, and good-humored, took the left. A novice stepped up to the lectern, opened the book there, and began to read aloud as other novices with white aprons tied over their robes passed among the tables, ladling soup into bowls and cooked vegetables onto plates. The Guards passed the bread and cheese up and down the table, ignoring the novice, who was reading some religious text; Tal, with the edge taken off his raging hunger, took a modest amount of both bread and cheese and passed the rest on. The soup proved to be pea, and the vegetables a mix of squash, beans, and root vegetables in a thick sauce.

'This is Tal Rufen,' Othorp said as he tore off a hunk of bread for himself. 'New man, High Bishop's own Guard from now on. Recommended by Justiciar Brune, from Haldene.'

Tal gave Othorp points for giving him the story he should follow, and nodded affably at the rest of the Guards, hoping there would be no jealousy over what should have been a prime position going to an outsider.

'About time she got her own Guard,' one man said without prompting, a fellow with a weathered face and graying black hair. 'Stop messing up the duty-roster every time she takes a notion to go across the river. Hard on us, trying to reshuffle so that nobody gets stuck with double-duty.'

The others nodded, in total agreement, and Tal was taken a bit aback for a moment. Then he realized what was going on—as Othorp had hinted, these men were used to a fairly set routine with very little variance, and resented any change in it. They had the soft berth that he had described.

As he listened to them talk, he had no doubt that most, if not all of them, would spring to the defense of their charges if one of the Justiciarswas attacked—assuming some of themcould spring anymore—but if there was no crisis, they simply didn't want to be stirred from their set ways.

'Don't envy you, Tal Rufen,' said another, one of the very men Othorp had complained about, whose uniform tunic strained over a decided paunch that overlapped his belt. 'High Bishop's always gadding here, gadding there— you'll miss half your meals, leave your bed early and get to it late. When you aren't running your legs off to keep up with her, you'll be standing around outside of doors for hours and hours.'

'Oh, I'm used to that by now,' he replied easily. 'I was on third shift, dockside duty in Haldene. At least now, if it rains, I won't be spending a full shift out in it.'