Fritine turned in his seat. “Lewko…?”
Lewko spread his hands. “I would need a closer look at him. And the aid of the god, which I cannot force.”
Fritine turned back to Ingrey, frowning. “I would have you speak more plainly, Lord Ingrey.”
Ingrey shrugged. “Consider what you demand, Archdivine. If you wish my testimony of the unseen and the uncanny, you cannot pick and choose. You must take all, or none. And I doubt you are ready to accept me as some sort of courier from the gods, bearing orders for you.”
While Fritine was digesting the implications of that remark, Ingrey continued, “As for Wencel, he claims to be reminded of our cousinship. Belatedly enough.” Well, that too was true in a sense.
Biast said indignantly, “You would leave my sister unprotected in a house where you fear to go yourself?” His brow wrinkled, and he added more slowly, “You are loyal to my lord Hetwar, are you not?”
He has never betrayed me. Yet. Ingrey gave a little ambiguous bow.
Biast continued, “But if the accusation is true…who better to protect the princess from, from any uncanny act her husband might take, or to rescue her from that place if the need arises? And you might observe, inform, report…”
“Spy?” said Fritine, in an interested tone. “Could he do that, do you think, Hetwar?”
Ingrey raised a brow. “Now you would have me take a lying oath of service, my lords?” he inquired sweetly. “Ingrey, stop that,” snapped Hetwar. “Your graveyard notions of humor have no place in this council.”
“As close as he ever comes to it.”
“I wonder that you endure it.”
“His trying style has proved to have its uses. From time to time. He wanders his own twisted path, and brings back prizes no logical man would have even suspected were there. I've never been sure if it was a talent or a curse.” Hetwar sat back and regarded Ingrey acutely. “Could you do this?”
Ingrey hesitated. It would make official what he had been doing half-awarely all along; playing both ends against the middle while desperately collecting fragments that he hoped would fall into some pattern. And keeping his own counsel betimes.
He could say no. He could.
“I admit,” he said instead, slowly, “I, too, desire to understand more of Wencel.” He added to Biast, “And why do you suddenly think your sister in danger now, and not anytime these past four years?”
Biast looked a trifle embarrassed. “These past four years, I was scarcely paying attention. We met but once after her wedding, and wrote seldom. I assumed, assumed she was well disposed of by my father, and content withal. I had my own duties. It was not till she spoke with me-well, I taxed her-this past day that she revealed how unhappy she had grown.”
“What did she say to you?” asked Hetwar.
“She'd intended no such harm to fall out of the, um, events at Boar's Head. She thought Boleso had grown too wild, yes, but hoped that perhaps he and, um, Lady Ijada might grow content with one another, in time. That the girl might calm him. Fara feels her lack of children keenly, though I must say, it is not clear to me that the fault in that is hers. She thought her husband's eye had fallen on her new handmaiden, for it was he who brought her into Fara's household.” That last is new, thought Ingrey. Ijada had thought the offer the work of her Badgerbank aunt, but who had stirred up the aunt to remember her? Could Wencel have been thinking of a new heir, to place between himself and Ingrey? Or were his motives in securing Ijada something altogether else? Altogether else, I now think. He would not so bestir himself without reason, but his reasons are not those of other men.
The prince-marshal vented an unhappy Mm. It was not a noise of disagreement.
The archdivine cleared his throat. “I would observe, Lord Ingrey, that by your testimony to Learned Lewko-and certain other evidences-it seems your spirit wolf is now unbound. You stand in violation of your dispensation.”
His bland tone concealed not so much menace, or acute fear, as pressure, Ingrey decided. So. He knew how to deal with simple pressure.
“It was not by my will, sir.” A safely uncheckable assertion. “It was an accident that occurred when Learned Hallana took the geas off me. And so, in a sense, the Temple's own doing.” Yes, blame the absent. “While I can't say it was the gods' will, two gods have been quick enough to make use of it.” Was that the barest nervous flinch on Fritine's part? Ingrey took a breath. “Now you desire to make use of it, too, setting me to guard Princess Fara. This seems to me a grave mandate, for a man you do not trust. Or do you mean to extract the use of me first, then turn on me? I warn you, I can swim.” Fritine considered this bait for a long moment and shrewdly declined to bite. “Then it behooves you to continue to make yourself useful, don't you think?”
Hetwar shifted a little uncomfortably at this blatant exchange. It was not that he was above threats, but he had always managed to find smoother ways to move Ingrey to his will, a courtesy Ingrey appreciated aesthetically if nothing else.
“Since you put it so compellingly,” said Ingrey-Hetwar grimaced, he saw out of the corner of his eye-“I will undertake to be your spy. And the princess's bodyguard.” He gave Biast a polite nod, which Biast, at least, had the mother wit to return.
“This brings up the disposition of the prisoner,” said Hetwar. “If Wencel is suspect, so is his courtesy of housing Lady Ijada. It may be time to move her to more secure quarters.”
Ingrey froze. Was Ijada to be torn from his wardenship? He said carefully, “Would that not prematurely reveal your suspicions to Wencel?”
“By no means,” said the archdivine. “Such a change was inevitable, after the funeral.”
“It seems to me her present lodging is adequate,” protested Ingrey. “She makes no attempt to run, trusting to Temple justice. I did mention she was naive,” he added, by way of a jab at Fritine.
“Yes, but you cannot guard two places at once,” Biast pointed out logically.
Hetwar, finally growing alive to the sudden tension in Ingrey's stance, held up a restraining hand. “We can discuss this later. I thank you for volunteering in this difficult matter, Lord Ingrey. How soon do you think you might slip into Horseriver's household?”
“Tonight?” said Biast. No! I must see Ijada! “It would look odd, I fear, if I were to arrive before he begged me of you, Lord Hetwar. Nor should you let yourself be persuaded too readily. And I am in need of food and sleep.” That last was unblunted truth, at least.
“Perhaps you might arrange to visit her yourself, then.”
“I have no uncanny powers to set against Wencel!”
You begin to believe you need me unburned, then, do you? Good. “Is there no Temple sorcerer to set in guard, meanwhile?”
“The ones I deem suitable are out on tasks,” said Lewko. “I shall dispatch an urgent recall as soon as I may.” Fritine nodded to this.
“Peace, prince,” said Hetwar to Biast, who was opening his mouth again. “I think we can take no further sensible action tonight.” He pushed up from his writing table with a tired grunt. “Ingrey, step out with me.”
Ingrey excused himself to the seated powers, making sure to direct a special little farewell bow to Gesca just to worry him. If Gesca was Horseriver's spy, how would Wencel react when this report reached him? Although the earl must have anticipated Cumril's accusation. At least Gesca might testify that the suspicion hadn't come from Ingrey. Yes. Let Gesca run, for now. Follow his scent, see if it goes where I think.
Ingrey followed Hetwar down the dim, carpeted corridor, well out of earshot of the closed study door. “My lord?”