Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [152]
My heart soared with gratitude and relief. "I believe it is, Master Piero."
He patted my arm. "Come tomorrow," he said. "Eamonn can tell you where. We will see if we're suited to one another, eh?"
"I have letters of reference," I said.
"Letters!" Master Piero laughed. "I don't care for letters, lad." He poked me in the chest, then tapped my temple. "Only what's inside you, here and here."
Alarmed at the prospect of being judged and found wanting, I remembered the words the gentleman in the baths had spoken. "Deccus Fulvius said I might tell you he said I was well-spoken," I blurted.
"Deccus Fulvius!" Master Piero's brows shot upward. A few yards away, I saw Lucius Tadius raise his head like a hound on the scent. "Oh, lad, surely you've not been here long enough to dabble in politics." Master Piero shook his head. "Come tomorrow," he repeated. "And we will see, shall we?"
With that, he turned away to speak to Brigitta, the Skaldi girl, who had a host of concerns to address. Eamonn nudged me.
"Come on, Imri," he said. "Let's get a drink."
I wanted, very much, to speak with him alone. It was not to be, or at least not yet. A whole crowd of the Master's scholars accompanied us to the wineshop Eamonn chose, Lucius Tadius and his fellows among them. He found a seat at my elbow while Eamonn went to procure a jug of wine.
"So," he said, "you and Prince Barbarus know one another."
I frowned. "Prince Barbarus?"
"Yon Eamonn." He nodded toward the bar.
"Ah." The nickname made me laugh. "Yes, very well. Eamonn was fostered in our household for a year."
"Ah, I see. That explains the fond greeting." He regarded me with interest. "The real question, my friend, is how you managed to acquaint yourself with Deccus Fulvius between sundown yesterday and midday today."
I shrugged. "Not through any intent of mine, I assure you. I encountered him at the baths this morning, and he was gracious to me. I'd no idea who he was until I asked an attendant. Why?" I added. "Do you know him?"
"You might say so." Lucius tapped his fingers idly on the tabletop. "He's married to my sister."
"I see," I said, though I didn't.
"What was the richest man in Tiberium doing in the public baths?" he mused. "Was he with anyone that you noticed?"
"No." I shook my head. "He was alone when I met him. But I hadn't noticed him before."
"Plotting conspiracy, no doubt. All, no mind." Lucius smiled absently at me. "Pay me no heed, Montrève. Master Piero is right, 'tis best to stay out of politics altogether and pursue the life of the mind."
"Is that why you're studying with him?" I asked, curious.
"Oh, in part." His focus returned, gaze sharpening. "I'm sincere in my studies, Montrève. There are those, many of them, who claim Master Piero is a lunatic. There are others, a dedicated few, who believe he is the purest natural philosopher since Sokrates. I happen to fall among the latter."
"I don't doubt you," I murmured.
Lucius Tadius' smile twisted on his satyr's face. "That's very kind of you," he said, glancing away. "And look, here comes Prince Barbarus with good red wine to free our thoughts and loosen our tongues. I'll move, shall I, and give you old friends leave to converse."
With that, he slid away to take a seat farther down the table. I frowned after him.
"Ass," Gilot muttered on the other side of me.
"I don't think so," I said slowly. "He seems… complicated."
"Well, that ought to suit you just fine," Gilot observed.
At that moment, Eamonn returned with a winejug in either hand, and I forgot all about Lucius Tadius da Lucca. We sat for long hours, drinking and talking. Eamonn told me in greater detail about the year he had spent in Tiberium. He had begun studying with a different Master, dull and conventional, who set him on an intensive course of Caerdicci grammar, reading and translating and performing endless recitations.
"I needed it," Eamonn acknowledged; and indeed, his Caerdicci had improved to the point where it