“What is your purpose here, Mesitas?”
“I only wish to warn you, Sept Son. Politics is a delicate art. Only masters survive for the long term and your inflexible ways are revealing your amateurish skill.” He crossed halfway to the door before stopping to face me. “Watch your step or you might fall and hurt yourself.”
With that he swept to the door and exited.
I waited, motionless, until he had passed beyond my scope of surveillance. Then, I allowed myself to breathe only to immediately cough at the perfumed stench that he had left in his wake. Crossing to the windows, I threw them open. Frigid air whistled past me and quickly worked toward banishing the smell. Leaving them open to make sure, I walked to the desk. Flipping through the letters, my heart sank. The missives from my trainers in the West about the Elitist issue and Errol’s letter about Zezilia were both in the pile. I could only pray that the Mesitas wasn’t able to read all of the letters. The top few were letters from my brothers and one from home, harmless. Please let it be those he read, Father.
“Why are the windows open?” Renato asked as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. “And what is that smell?”
“The smell is the reason for the windows,” I replied as I quickly leafed through the remaining documentation in my satchel. “Who left this out on the desk?”
“I left it in your bedchamber under your other luggage. Why?”
It was worse than I thought. Dropping the documents on the table, I stalked through the closed door and into the bedroom. My clothing lay on the bed in neat piles and the empty bag where they had been packed leaned against the foot of the bed, inside out.
“It looks searched,” Renato observed from behind me. “What is going on here?”
“When I arrived, the Mesitas was waiting for me in the front room. My correspondence was spread out on the desk. I am guessing that he was looking for something, but what.”
“The seal of office?”
I frowned. “It is possible. He wouldn’t know that I carry that on my person at all times.” My hand went to the medallion that hung beneath my undertunic.
“What are you going to do?”
“Pray that he didn’t get what he was coming for and never leave my papers unattended.” I returned to the front room, carefully put all my papers back into their satchel, and handed it to Renato. “From now on, if they are not in my hands, they are in yours, understood.”
Renato nodded. “I shall make certain that no one sees them.”
Satisfied that they were as safe as I could make them, I turned my attention to preparing for the meeting with King Euginius.
I GAINED MY ANSWER to how much the Mesitas had seen when Cayphis cornered me before the breaking of the fast the next morning. “Greetings, Sept Son.” He saluted. “May I speak with you privately?”
“Certainly. After the meal, I have a short period before the funeral.”
“No, Hadrian,” he whispered, looking at me pointedly. “We need to speak now.”
I nodded and sought out Renato’s mind from among the gatherers. “Cayphis needs to speak with me alone. Make my apologies. I shall return soon.”
Renato’s musky reply was a worried affirmative. I glanced in his direction to see if I could detect what he was concerned about, but I couldn’t see him. By then, Cayphis was waiting by the side doors into one of the many antechambers of the High King’s residence. I didn’t have time to check on Renato. “Are you alright?” I asked as I followed Cayphis.
“Fine. I will explain later.”
It was the best I was going to get; so, I turned my attention to my friend as I closed the door behind me.
“Are you aware of the rumors circulating about you?” Cayphis demanded before the door had completely latched. “They are saying you are an Elitist, determined to overthrow the system of non-talent government.”
I frowned. “You know that I am completely against the Elitists and their philosophies.”
“Yes, I know.” A deep crevice developed between his drawn eyebrows. “I know that you believe that all men are equal regardless of talent or abilities.” He crossed to the center of the room and gestured toward the closed door. “However, most of those kings in there do not. Besides there are other rumors, it’s about Ilar’s daughter. Are you prepared to explain that?”
My stomach sank, but I didn’t let it show in my face. I calmly asked, “What about Ilar’s daughter, Cayphis? What exactly are they saying?”
“I was discussing the best way to switch estates with Ostin Ilar this morning when King Sabine came up and interrupted. He demanded to know if Ilar knew where his daughter was. Of course, Ilar said he did, in the south visiting with Errol Silas’ family. Sabine immediately asked if Ilar knew what his daughter was doing under Errol’s care and Ilar said yes. Sabine walked away looking like a cat that had just trapped the mouse and I am pretty sure that you are that mouse.”
“So, that is what he is going to do.” It suddenly fell into place. “The Mesitas, through Sabine was going to bring evidence against me. They would say that I was training a female talent for the express purpose of taking her to wife when her training was through. If it were true, it would be typical Elitist behavior, marriage between talents with the intent of more talented offspring. But there is a flaw in the argument.”
“There is?” Cayphis looked almost hopeful.
“I did not promise Ilar that I would marry his daughter. I promised to find her a husband after the completion of her training. I have in no way indicated that I plan on marrying her and I am already looking for another husband for her.” It was true, though I hadn’t exactly had time
