The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [24]
“I wonder myself.”
There was no way of telling if the master believed him or not. After an agonizing wait of some minutes, the Hawkmaster spoke again.
“Soon you’ll be completing the third ring of your studies, won’t you?” His tone of voice was perfectly conversational, which was, oddly enough, more frightening than any sinister whisper or suchlike would have been. “A man like you could use a little backing in the Brotherhood.”
“No doubt.” Baruma picked his words carefully, wondering if he were being sounded out for a weakness. “When he walks the paths of power, a man needs to know who’s walking behind him.”
The master laughed, a cold sharp bark.
“I like the way you express yourself, my friend, and you’re speaking the exact truth. What if I offered myself as one of your backers?”
“I’d be honored beyond dreaming, of course, but such support is far too valuable to come for free.”
“Just so.” The red silk rustled as the master nodded his head. “Some of us in the various guilds wonder what the Old One’s up to. We wonder greatly. He is vastly old, my friend, well over a hundred at least, maybe two hundred for all we know. We wonder how the years have affected his mind. You’ve seen him recently?”
There was no use in lying.
“Oh yes, fairly recently. He seemed as sharp and smooth as a well-oiled scythe. Physically he’s very slow, of course. But his mind still seemed … let us say, formidable.”
“Ah. A fine choice of words, indeed. Now let me make one thing clear: I mean the Old One no harm, none whatsoever. If the blood guilds wished to dispose of him, we wouldn’t bother to take the risk of bringing you into our confidence. Is that clear?”
“Very. Yet something’s troubling you?”
“Oh yes. Why did he want Rhodry of Aberwyn kidnapped, then just set adrift here in the islands?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“I was afraid that he hadn’t told you. He’s working on something, all right, something very convoluted and strange.” The master got up abruptly. “I smell danger.” He began to pace back and forth in front of the fresco. “And no one reaches my position in a blood guild without knowing danger when he smells it. All I want from you is this, that you go on to the Old One’s villa, just as you planned to do, and see if you can find out anything about this mysterious scheme. That’s all for now—just information. Later, who knows? But I promise you this, if anyone has to confront the Old One, that someone will be me, not you.”
“Very good, because you know perfectly well that I could never stand against him.”
“Just so.” The way the hood twitched gave the impression that the master was smiling. “And, in return, we put you forward as a candidate for the Outer Circle. Our backing carries great weight, you know.”
“Oh yes, and, as I say, I’m honored beyond dreaming.” One thin trickle of fear-sweat ran down Baruma’s ribs, but he forced himself to smile. “And I suppose someone will be keeping track of this mysterious Rhodry?”
“Of course. The man you know as Gwin, actually. He’s the logical choice. He knows what the slave looks like and all.”
Baruma hesitated, wondering if Gwin were really trustworthy where Rhodry was concerned, but arguing with a Hawkmaster’s decisions ranked very low on his list of enjoyable pastimes.
“Excellent. I have reason to believe that Rhodry’s a much more dangerous man than the Old One realizes.”
“Indeed? Because he swore he’d kill you?”
The humor in the master’s voice made Baruma furious, but he kept his own voice steady and light.
“I should have realized that Gwin would mention that little incident. Well, yes, partly because of that. Do you blame me? You know as well as I do that barbarians are more than willing to die if it’ll salvage their precious honor. No sensible, civilized man would try to escape his owner, but Rhodry of Aberwyn is neither civilized nor sensible.”
“You’ve got a point, don’t you? You