dried the King's foot and began to secure the new dressing.
The King appeared discomfited during all this. When the Doctor was finished he looked at her and said, 'You will be looking forward to the ball yourself, Doctor?'
She smiled briefly at him. 'Of course, your majesty.'
We packed our things away. As we were about to take our leave, the King reached out and took the Doctor's hand. There was a troubled, uncertain look I did not think I had seen before in his eyes. He said, 'Women bear pain better than men, they say, Doctor.' His eyes seemed to search hers. 'It is ourselves we hurt most when we question.'
The Doctor looked down at her hand, held within the King's. 'Women bear pain better because we must give birth, sir,' she said in a low voice. 'Such pain is generally regarded as being unavoidable, but is alleviated to whatever extent it can be by those of my calling.' She looked up into his eyes. 'And we only become beasts — we become worse than beasts — when we torment others, sir.'
She took her hand carefully from his, picked up her bag and with a small bow to the King, turned and headed for the doors. I hesitated, half expecting the King to call her back, but he did not. He just sat there in his vast bed, looking hurt, and sniffing. I bowed to the King and followed the Doctor.
Unoure never was put to the question. A few hours after he was captured and brought back to the palace, while the Doctor and I were attending the King and while Ralinge was still preparing the chamber for his inquisition, a guard looked in on the cell where the youth was being held. Somehow, Unoure had slit his own throat with a small knife. His arms and legs were tightly chained behind him and he had been stripped naked before being placed in the cell. The knife had been wedged hilt-first into a crack in the stone walls of the cell at about waist height. Unoure had been able to kneel before it at the extremity of the reach the chains securing him would allow and slice his neck across its blade, before collapsing and bleeding to death.
I understand that the two Guard Commanders were furious. The guards who had been charged with Unoure's custody were lucky they were neither punished nor put to the question themselves. It was eventually agreed that Unoure must have placed the knife there before his attack on Nolieti, in case he was captured and brought back to the palace.
Our shared station might dictate both that we knew little and that our opinions were worth less, but none of us who had had occasion to experience the full extent of Unoure's intelligence, forethought and cunning found this explanation even remotely convincing.
Quettil: Good Duke, how very pleasant it is to see you. Is this not a fine view?
Walen: Hmm. I find you well, Quettil?
Q: In most rude health. You?
W: Tolerable.
Q: I thought you might want to sit down. See? I have arranged for chairs.
W: Thank you, no. Let us go over here…
Q: Oh. Well, very well… Well, here we are. And afforded an even finer view. However, I cannot imagine you wished to meet me up here to admire my own estates.
W: Hmm.
Q: Allow me to hazard a guess. You have some misgivings about… what was his name? Nolieti? Nolieti's death? Or rather about his and his apprentice's?
W: No. I believe that matter is closed. I attach no great significance to the death of a pair of torturers. Theirs is a despicable if necessary craft.
Q: Despicable? Oh no. No indeed. Why, I would call it a form of art at its most elevated. My man, Ralinge, is a veritable master. I have only avoided singing his praises to Quience because I'm afraid he might take him from me, and that would be most upsetting. I should feel deprived.
W: No, my concern is with one whose profession is concerned with the alleviation of pain, not the causing of it.
Q: Really? Ah, you mean that woman who calls herself a doctor? Yes, what does the King see in her? Can't he just fuck her and have done with it?
W: Perhaps he has, more likely he has not. She looks at him in a way that leads me to believe she would like to be tumbled… but I care not either way. The point is that he seems convinced of her efficacy as a physician.
Q: And… what? There is someone you would rather see in her place?
W: Yes. Anybody. I believe she is a spy, or a witch, or something between the two.
Q: I see. Have you told the King?
W: Of course not.
Q: Ah-ha. Well, my own physician is of much the same opinion as yourself, if that is any comfort. Which I warn you it ought not to be, really, given that my physician is a self-important fool and no better than any of the rest of these blood-letters and saw-bones at curing anything.
W: Yes, quite. I am sure, nevertheless, that your physician is as competent a doctor as can be found, and so I am glad that he shares my opinion of the woman Vosill. That may well prove useful if eventually we have to convince the King of her unsuitability. I can tell you that Guard Commander Adlain feels that she is a threat too, though he agrees with me that it is not yet possible to move against her. That is why I wanted to talk to you. May I rely on your discretion? I wish to speak of something that would have to be done without the King's knowledge, even though it would be done solely to protect him.
Q: Hmm? Yes, of course, good Duke. Go on. Nothing will go beyond these walls. Well, balustrades.
W: I have your word?
Q: Of course, of course.
W: Adlain and I had an agreement with Nolieti that should it prove necessary, the woman could be taken and put to the question… without reference to the King.
Q: Ah, I see.
W: This plan was ready to be put into effect while we travelled from Haspide to here. But now we are here, and Nolieti is dead. I would ask you to be willing and ready to put a similar plan into effect. If your fellow Ralinge is as efficient as you say then he ought to have no difficulty extracting the truth from the woman.
Q: Certainly, to date, I can think of no woman who has been able to resist his advances in that respect.
W: Well then, will you let some part of the Palace Guard arrange for her apprehension, or at least allow it to take place without their interference?
Q:… I see. And what would be my interest in doing so?
W: Your interest? Why, the safety of the King, sir!
Q: Which is of course my first concern, as it is so clearly and creditably yours, dear Duke. Yet without some obviously deleterious action by the woman, it might rather look as though one was acting on no more than your own dislike of her, however well informed.
W: My likes and dislikes are predicated entirely on what is good for the royal house and I would hope that my service over the past many years, indeed decades, has proved that. You care less than nothing for the woman. Are you saying you would object?
Q: You have to see this from my stand-point, dear Walen. While you are all here the responsibility for your safety is formally mine. On this occasion, only a few days after the arrival of the Court at Yvenir, one of its officers was killed unlawfully and his murderer escaped the questioning and punishment that should rightfully have been his. That displeased me greatly, sir, and it was only because the matter was concluded almost as soon as it began, and appeared to be entirely internal to the royal court that I felt no more insulted. Even so, I think Polchiek does not realise how close he came to being brought down a rung or two. And I might add that my Guard Commander still worries that something is being hidden, that the apprentice's death was somehow arranged by somebody who might have benefited from his silence. But in any event, if, after such a murder and suicide, a favourite of the King were to disappear, then it would mean that I would have no choice but to discipline Polchiek with the utmost severity. My honour could be preserved by nothing less, and arguably would still suffer. I would need the most decidedly persuasive proof that the woman meant the King some harm before I could possibly countenance any such action.
W: Hmm. I fancy the only proof you would accept would be the King's corpse, and that alone might prove
