Let's start. Go figure out how to make this ruin fit for human habitation. Not you, Mr. Grazia. You stay here with me.'
Mr. Grazia was not happy.
Later, Else said, 'Mr. Grazia, I'm pretty sure you've heard all about Father Obilade.'
'Yes.'
'You're aware that Paludan Bruglioni tends to overreact when he gets angry?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Find a way to put the money back. In the meantime, you'll be my number-one guy around here. Because I have your stones in a vice.'
'Yes, sir.'
'I hope the others will be as reasonable. Go to work, Mr. Grazia.' Else headed for the kitchens. Polo was there, listening to the Ristoti woman.
Caniglia and another man intercepted him. Their expressions were so dark he feared they planned something stupid. But Caniglia said, 'A runner left a message for you with Diano.'
The other man extended a folded letter. Else said, 'I see the seal fell off.'
Caniglia grunted.
Else asked, 'Why so grim?'
'Some people you told us not to let back in got nasty when I told them. They said they'd be even nastier if I tried to keep them from coming in tomorrow.'
'I'll deal with that.'
That did not improve Caniglia's mood. That was not the answer he wanted.
'Who's the letter from?' Polo asked. Else sat with his back against the wall in the common space of their quarters.
'A woman I knew a long time ago. Anna Mozilla. A widow who moved to Brothe a few months ago. She heard I was here. She wants me to know she's here, too. I guess that means she isn't mad at me anymore.'
Polo chuckled. 'Is this a good story?'
'Not really. She's a widow, but too young to give up the more intimate practices of marriage. At least, she was. And must still be.'
'Her turning up mean trouble?'
'I doubt it. Just the opposite, I hope.'
'Open up,' Else told Caniglia. 'Let's see who's on time for work.'
Caniglia opened the servants' postern, which had not been closed and locked for years. Not even after Father Obilade's treason. Paludan was almost willfully blind to anything that he did not want to be true.
Caniglia and young Diano put on a show, allowing the staff in one at a time. Each got a quick visual once-over to see what they were carrying. Which told Else that they had turned a blind eye to that in the past. And, probably, more so when the staff were leaving.
Else wished he understood accounting better. Mr. Grazia's books almost certainly contained more amazing and damning evidence than he could ferret out himself.
What would Paludan's attitude be? He seemed the sort who disdained literacy and ciphering. Though that attitude was less prevalent than Else had expected, based on past encounters with Arnhanders in the Holy Lands. Over there, if you needed something read, written, or calculated, you grabbed a passing Deve.
Where did Gervase Saluda fit? Might he be getting kickbacks? That happened in every palace and large household in Else's end of the world.
'Who is this?' Else asked. A handsome young man carrying a load of tools staggered through the gateway.
Caniglia replied, 'Marco Demetrius. A carpenter. Related to the cook. He always turns up when there's carpentry to be done. He's good. And a good worker.'
'So Madam Ristoti sent for him.' The chief cook seldom left the citadel, though she was not officially a resident.
Copria and Verga tried to get in, one right after the other. Else said, 'Mr. Verga, you appear to have forgotten that you don't work here anymore. Don't embarrass yourself. You and Mr. Copria should apologize to the people behind you for holding them up, then leave.'
Verga snarled, 'Get out of the way. You don't have the authority.'
Else hit Verga with a flurry of rib-cracking jabs. Verga fell to his knees, desperately fighting for enough air to remain conscious.
Else told him, 'You no longer work here.'
Copria was less blustery. He helped Verga get up. They left.
Else hoped that would be lesson enough. He told Caniglia, 'I want to know who shows up late. Starting tomorrow, the gate will close ten minutes after starting time. Tardies won't be allowed in and they won't get paid.'
Anna Mozilla had acquired a small home rather like the one she had enjoyed in Sonsa. Else climbed the front steps. He used the clapper. Anna responded almost immediately. She looked exactly as she had in Sonsa.
'You were followed.'
'Yes. Not competently, either.'
'You let them keep track?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'I explained you as a former mistress. Your letter had been read before it got to me.'
'She moved up against him, familiarly, as she drew him into her house. 'That's why I made the letter general. I thought that would be the best way to explain me.'
Though the door was shut and there were now no witnesses, Anna Mozilla did not back off. Nor did Else push her away. It felt good, being close to a woman. Even one who had a decade on him. And who was not his wife.
Anna Mozilla said, 'We were completely businesslike before. Completely professional. I teased myself about that afterward. Then they asked me to move down here. It took you so long to get here. That left me too much time to think.'
Else did not reply. He knew what he should do but just could not push.
'It wouldn't be a sin, Frain.' Else had called himself Frain Dorao in Sonsa. 'I'm an unbeliever.'
So. She understood that much.
That was an interpretation of Law as stated in The Written. There was no adultery when the woman was not Praman.
Else did not back away. Neither did he take charge, though she had shown him the open gate. He left the initiative entirely in her hands.
Those hands proved capable, if tentative at first.
Else took his supper in the kitchen so he could converse with Madam Ristoti. 'Has there been much obstructionism?'
'Less than I expected. You got them scared. That business at the back gate told them you're serious.”
'What do you think?'
'I think you're deadly serious.'
'I am.'
'Why?'
'Because I want to keep working. I came to Brothe to be near the center of the excitement. I need a job to stay.”
'My people have been in service to the great families all the way back to Imperial times. According to family
