Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [179]
The spot of green paint caught in the cuticle of one finger gave him away.
“Of course I recall you, sir,” Karal replied, in a properly subdued manner. “Master Celandine, is it not? The painter?”
“The artist, yes, and I was terribly grieved to hear about Master Ulrich, terribly,” the mole replied, his fingers knotting together until his hands resembled a nest of worms. “I hope—I pray—that your gracious mistress will not take this incident badly—oh, dear, no—that would be dreadful, dreadful—”
“I suppose from the Valdemaran point of view it would,” Karal replied, with careful neutrality. There was something about this man ... something nagging at the back of his mind.
“Oh, I’m not from Valdemar, but it would be personally dreadful for me all the same,” Celandine replied. “My pigments—so difficult to obtain, you understand, and before the Alliance so terribly expensive—”
A tiny thread of warning slipped down Karal’s back, and his hands went cold. He’s always sending people off after pigments and colors, I remember him saying that when Ulrich sat for a portrait. He must have at least one package coming in every fortnight or so! Could it be? Oh, surely not! This fellow was so ineffectual he couldn’t possibly be their quarry! Everyone at court made fun of him and his pretensions of genius!
Then again, came the nagging response, wouldn’t that make him ideal for the part? How better to observe people than when they think you’re insignificant?
“—I wondered if your mistress would still be interested in that official portrait, or if she would prefer to wait until the next envoy was assigned or even have your little sketch turned into a portrait instead?”
Bright Sunlord! Didn’t An’desha say the mage must have had something personal in order to set the weapons, or some kind of image? This man paints portraits, he sketches people in Court circles all day long and no one ever thinks anything about it!
:Karal,: said Altra carefully, :I think you may have something in this one. Can you get him to take you to his studio? I may be able to find real evidence, rooting around like a cat.:
“Perhaps,” he said, assuming more dignity. “I have been given to understand that if the Alliance continues, the latter would be the most likely option.”
The mole’s tiny black eyes lit up, but before he could say anything else, Karal continued.
“That portrait of my—my Master, though, the one you mentioned,” he continued, and it did not take any acting at all for his eyes to mist over. “I would like to have it for myself. Is it anywhere near completed?”
“Oh, yes! Yes, it is!” The mole was positively babbling. “Would you care to come to my studio to view it?”
:Excellent,: Altra applauded. :l’ll warn Florian and he can warn Kerowyn through Sayvil. Go with him now, before he changes his mind!:
“I would very much like to see it,” Karal said in complete and sincere honesty as he wiped his eyes. “Please.”
The mole eagerly led the way down the hall toward the quarters of those who were not quite highborn, but were not servants, either. Altra padded along behind, tail in the air, pretending to be a housecat. The mole either didn’t notice him or didn’t care.
The mole’s studio lay at the farthest end of the corridor, and Karal had a moment of trepidation when he realized that there was no way that Kerowyn could have them followed down here without it being painfully obvious. And if the mole left the studio door open, he would see if Kerowyn sent anyone down after them. Celandine might look like he was short-sighted, but as Karal already knew, there was nothing wrong with his eyes.
:I’ll shut the door behind me,: Altra told him. :Just enough that he won’t be able to see down the corridor. With luck, he’ll be so excited that he won’t notice.:
That was exactly how the next few moments played out; Celandine ushered Karal into the cluttered, crowded studio with much bowing and scraping,