Four and Twenty Blackbirds

only when Arden was with the Lady Asher; at that point, there was a relaxation and a softening that never showed on High Bishop Ardis's face.

As Tal followed the page to the upper-level area where Visyr's rooms lay, he wondered what Ardis might have been like if she had followed the Duke's path. Would she have been happier, unhappier, or much the same?

He couldn't picture her dressed in an ornate gown like Lady Asher, trailing about the seemingly endless corridors of this palace. He couldn't imagine what she'd do with her time; whatdid women like Lady Asher do all day? Ardis would go mad with boredom in a fortnight.

And he recalled Torney, that former Priest who had given up everything he had and was for the sake of his true love. There were many who would call him a fool for the decision he'd made; would Ardis say the same? Would Ardis have made the same choice he had, given the same set of circumstances?

Tal just couldn't picture it. Ardis was so much a creature of intellect that he couldn't even imagine her making a decision that was so clearly an emotional one.

And yet, if shehad made such a decision, he couldn't picture her ever looking back on it with regret. No matter what she decided, she would stand by her decision, just as Dasel Torney had, and find a way to make the best of her situation.

But for a moment he envied Dasel Torney and his wife, and not just because of their happiness, but for the ease with which they had made their own choices. He suspected that for them, there had never really been a matter of 'choice'; it had all been a foregone conclusion that they would stand by each other. Therewere no questions, only certainties. Perhaps that much certainty was a form of insanity.

He only wished that he could be that certain of anything. It sometimes seemed that he spent all of his life second-guessing himself. Perhaps, ifhe had spent less time in analyzing things, he wouldn't be here; he'd be an ordinary constable with a wife and children.

Certainly the Duke was another one of these happily-wedded fellows, and he certainly would not have made any other choice but the one he had; no man who saw Lady Asher would ever think he could have done otherwise. But of course, he was the Duke of Kingsford, and he could do whatever he chose to and with whoever he wished; if he'd wanted to marry a common street-entertainer, he could have, and the cheers from his people would probably have been just as loud. As she herself had told Tal, Ardis had been blessed with fewer options than her cousin by simple virtue of her gender.

But now—what about now? Doesn't she have more options now than she did when she was subject to the will of her father?

Now the page stopped beside another door—this one with no guards outside it—and tapped on it. It was answered, not by a servant, but by the Haspur himself.

He looked larger here than he had in the station, or even in the Abbey. Perhaps it was because of the way he was holding his wings; arched above his body and held slightly away from it, instead of closed tightly in along his back. The page didn't seem the least intimidated by the bird-man, but then the boy probably saw him several times every day.

'This gentleman wishes to speak with you, Sirra Visyr,' the boy said in his high, piping voice. The bird-man turned that huge, sharp beak and looked down it at his visitor. Tal became the focus of a pair of enormous, golden eyes that regarded him out of a face that had little in common, at first impression, with human features. It bore no expression that Tal could recognize, and no real sign of recognition.

That, however, did not mean that the creature didn't remember him. A Haspur, it seemed, could project a flawless raptoral expression of indifference when he so desired.

'This has nothing to do with the incident you were involved with, sir,' Tal said hastily, trying not to appear uneasy beneath that direct, raptoral gaze. 'Or rather, it does, but not directly. I have the Duke's permission to speak with you, if you would be so kind.'

Visyr continued to examine him, unwinking. Finally the beak opened. 'Perhaps you had better come in,' he said, in his deeply resonant voice. Then, as he held the door open for Tal to enter, he looked back down at the page. 'You may go, Joffrey,' he said to the boy, his voice a bit softer and kinder. 'I'll ring if I need someone.'

'Thank you, Sirra,' the boy replied, as Tal entered Visyr's suite and the bird-man closed the door behind him.

Well. So the Church has come to me in my own aerie. Interesting. I wonder why? Visyr regarded his visitor with a somewhat skeptical air. He felt much more at his ease here, in the Duke's Palace, than he had back in the city. This washis ground, his place, and the Duke had assured him personally that no one was going to be able to coerce Visyr into anything while he was under the Duke's protection.

Visyr busied himself for the moment in lighting his Deliambren lamps so he could see his visitor more clearly. Visyr was not particularly comfortable around open flame; no Haspur was. Feathers were terribly flammable. He