terrible snub to send someone in the court a wooden ring.”
“A snub I can live with,” I said, relieved. “I’ve been snubbed by better folk than her.”
“That was a hundred years ago,” Bredon said. “Things have changed. The problem was, once the wooden rings were seen as a snub, some servants would be offended by them. You don’t want to offend the master of your stables, so you don’t send him a wooden ring. But if he doesn’t get a wooden ring, then your tailor might be offended by one.”
I nodded my understanding. “And so on. Eventually anyone was offended by a wooden ring.”
Bredon nodded. “A wise man is careful to stay on the good side of his servants,” he said. “Even the boy that brings your dinner can carry a grudge, and there are a thousand invisible revenges available to the lowest of them. Wooden rings aren’t used at all anymore. They probably would have fallen out of memory entirely if they weren’t used as a plot device in a handful of plays.”
I looked at the ring. “So I’m lower than the boy who collects the slops.”
Bredon cleared his throat self-consciously. “More than that, actually.” He pointed. “That means to her, you aren’t even a person. You aren’t worth recognizing as a human being.”
“Ah,” I said. “I see.”
I slid the wooden ring onto my finger and made a fist. It was quite a good fit, actually.
“It’s not the sort of ring you wear,” Bredon said uncomfortably. “It’s quite the other sort of ring, actually.” He gave me a curious look. “I don’t suppose you still have Alveron’s ring?”
“He’s asked for it back, actually.” I picked the Maer’s letter off the table and handed it to Bredon as well.
“At your earliest convenience,” Bredon quoted with a dry chuckle. “That says quite a bit more than it seems.” He set the letter down. “Still, it’s probably better this way. If he left you with his favor you’d be a battleground for them: a peppercorn between her mortar and his pestle. They would crush you with their bickering.”
His eyes flickered back to the wooden ring on my hand. “I don’t suppose she gave it to you personally?” he asked hopefully.
“She sent it with a runner.” I let out a low sigh. “The guards saw it too.”
There was a knock on the door. I answered it, and a runner boy handed me a letter.
I closed the door and looked at the seal. “Lord Praevek,” I said.
Bredon shook his head. “I swear that man spends every waking moment with his ear against a keyhole or his tongue up someone’s ass.”
Chuckling, I cracked the letter open and scanned it quickly. “He’s asking for his ring back,” I said. “It’s smudged too, he didn’t even wait for the ink to dry.”
Bredon nodded. “Word is undoubtedly spreading. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t sitting strong at Alveron’s right hand. But she is, and she’s made her opinion clear. Anyone who treats you better than a dog will doubtless share the scorn she feels for you.” He fluttered her letter. “And scorn such as this, there’s plenty to go around without worry of it spreading thin.”
Bredon gestured to the bowl of rings and gave a dry, mirthless chuckle. “Just when you were getting some silver, too.”
I walked over to the bowl, dug out his ring, and held it out to him. “You should take this back,” I said.
Bredon’s expression looked pained, but he made no move to take the ring.
“I’m going to be leaving soon,” I said. “And I’d hate for you to be tarnished by your contact with me. There’s no way I can thank you for the help you’ve given me. The least I can do is help minimize the damage to your reputation.”
Bredon hesitated, then closed his eyes and sighed. He took the ring with a defeated shrug.
“Oh,” I said, suddenly remembering something else. I went to the stack of slanderous stories and pulled out the pages that described his pagan frolics. “You might find this amusing,” I said as I handed it to him. “Now you should probably go. Simply being here can’t be good for you.”
Bredon sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out better for you, my boy. If you’re ever back in these parts don’t hesitate to call on me. These things do blow over eventually.” His eyes kept drifting back to the wooden ring on my finger. “You really shouldn’t keep wearing that.”
After he was gone, I fished Stapes’ gold ring out of the bowl and Alveron’s iron one as well. Then I stepped out into the hallway.
“I’m going to pay a call on Stapes,” I said politely to the guards. “Would the two of you care to accompany me?”
The taller one glanced at the ring on my finger, then looked at his companion before murmuring an agreement. I turned on my heel and set off, my escort keeping pace behind me.
Stapes ushered me inside his sitting room and closed the door behind me. His rooms were even finer than my own and considerably more lived in. I also saw a large bowl of rings on a nearby table. All of them were gold. The only iron ring in sight was Alveron’s, and that was on his finger.
He might look like a grocer, but Stapes had a sharp set of eyes. He spotted the ring on my finger straightaway. “She did it then,” he said, shaking his head. “You really shouldn’t wear it.”
“I’m not ashamed of what I am,” I said. “If this is the ring of an Edema Ruh, I’ll wear it.”
Stapes sighed. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“I know,” I said. “I didn’t come here to make your life difficult. Could you return this to the Maer for me?” I handed him Alveron’s ring.
Stapes put it in his pocket.
“I also wanted to return these.” I handed him the two rings he had given me. One bright gold, one white bone. “I don’t want to make trouble between you and your master’s new wife.”
Stapes nodded, holding up the gold ring. “It would make trouble if you kept it,” he said. “I am in the Maer’s service. As such, I need to be mindful of the games of the court.”
Then he reached out and took my hand, pressing the bone ring back into it. “But this lies outside my duty to the Maer. It is a debt between two men. The games of the court have no sway over such things.” Stapes met my eye. “And I insist you keep it.”
I ate a late supper alone in my rooms. The guards were still waiting patiently outside as I read the Maer’s letter for the fifth time. Each time I hoped to find some clement sentiment hidden in his phrasing. But it simply wasn’t there.
On the table sat the various papers the Maer had sent. I emptied my purse beside them. I had two gold royals, four silver nobles, eight and a half pennies, and, inexplicably, a single Modegan strelum, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember where I’d come by it.
Altogether they equaled slightly less than eight talents. I stacked them next to Alveron’s papers. Eight talents, a pardon, a player’s writ, and my tuition paid at the University. It was not an inconsiderable reward.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel rather shorted. I had saved Alveron from a poisoning, uncovered a traitor in his court, won him a wife, and rid his roads of more dangerous folk than I cared to count.
Despite all that, I was still left without a patron. Worse, his letter had made no mention of the Amyr, no mention of the support he had promised to lend me in my search for them.
But there was nothing to be gained by making a fuss, and much that I could lose. I refilled my purse and tucked Alveron’s letters into the secret compartment in my lute case.
I also nicked three books I’d brought from Caudicus’ library, since no one knew I had them, and tipped the bowlful of rings into a small sack. The wardrobe held two dozen finely tailored outfits. They were worth a heavy penny, but weren’t very portable. I took two of the nicer outfits and left the rest hanging.
Lastly I belted on Caesura and worked my shaed into a long cape. Those two items reassured me that my time in Vintas had not been entirely wasted, though I’d earned them on my own, not through any help of Alveron’s.
I locked the door, snuffed the lamps, and climbed out a window into the garden. Then I used a piece of bent wire to lock the window and close the shutters behind me.
Petty mischief? Perhaps, but I’d be damned if I’d be escorted from the estates by the Maer’s guard. Besides, the thought of them puzzling over my escape made me chuckle, and laughter is good for the digestion.
