Doom of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [98]
“Madam?” queried the warlock respectfully. “You were saying?”
“Simkin has worked for us before, has he not?”
“Yes, madam, but …” It was now the warlock’s turn to hesitate.
“But?”
“He is erratic, madam.”
“Nevertheless” — the witch made her decision — “see what you can accomplish there. He could be of inestimable help. Be discreet, of course. You know how to handle him, I presume?”
The warlock bowed. “And the catalyst?”
“The Church will deal with their own, as always. I will inform Bishop Vanya, but I daresay he won’t want to move without proof. Continue your investigation.”
“Yes, madam.”
The witch fell silent, her white teeth biting her lower lip. The warlock remained standing unmoving before her, knowing he was not dismissed either from her thoughts or from her presence. Her eyes, gleaming in the shadows of her hood, sought him out at last.
“There was no other companion? No other person present with these three?”
The warlock had been waiting for that question. “Madam,” he said in a low voice, aware that she did not tolerate excuses, yet knowing that she must accept her own limitations, “there was a large crowd at the Gate, and a great deal of confusion. The young man, Joram, after all, is Dead. Not only that, but if he truly does have the power of the darkstone, he could remain invisible to our eyes.”
“Yes,” the witch muttered. “You have the household under surveillance?”
“As best we can, considering the Emperor has taken them under his protection. I have hesitated to question the staff….”
“You do right. Servants gossip, and we must be careful not to alarm these young men. Remember that when you deal with Simkin. If it is them, the least hint of trouble and they will flee. Our only hope is to keep them in the city. Once in the Outland, we have lost them. Give them time, lull them into complacency and they will make a mistake. When they do, we will be ready.”
“Yes, madam.” The warlock bowed and, sensing himself dismissed, vanished.
The single word “Patience,” whispered in the air, followed after him like a benediction.
6
The Garden
The people of Merilon know that the inner garden, or House Garden as it is known, is the heart of every home. Every dwelling — no matter how humble — has its garden, even if it is nothing but a bed of flowers in the center of a cobblestone walk. From its green serenity springs the joy and solace necessary for a household’s well-being. Legend holds that the amount of Life with which a family is blessed grows in the House Garden.
Of course, the wealthy in Merilon own gardens of rare and remarkable beauty. An inner garden that was well tended and properly cultivated could bless a house in other ways, as Lord Samuels well knew. Status took root and flourished in a House Garden. Thus, as with so many other things in his life, Lord Samuels’s gardens were not only beautiful … they were good business as well.
A House Garden is not easy to maintain. Lord Samuels could have afforded a gardener, but that would have appeared to be rising too far above his station. He kept the garden himself, therefore, going out each morning before work to make certain that all was in order. The dragonlilies, for example, had a most disconcerting tendency to flute blue flame at certain hours of the day. Decorative and useful as a timepiece, the plants could be harmful unless carefully watched. He had to prune the choral bamboo daily; some stalks grew faster than others, and it was forever falling out of tune. The wind palms had to be adjusted each morning to the weather. Their swaying fronds generated a constant