"Hmph." The Duke nodded again. "Wise of you to realize that. He's a Haspur. Willful and principled, and he is already taking less pay than he deserves just out of an ethical desire to help the people of Kingsford." Tal made another mental note of that, and the Duke's nod showed him that it hadn't gone unnoticed. "There is another problem here; I've promised not to hold him past a certain date, and if he spends too much time helping you, I may not get my maps done before that date arrives." He held up his hand to forestall Tal's protests. "On the other hand, I'll be the first to tell you that no map is worth a human life.I'm certainly eager for you to bring this monster to justice, and if you can persuade Visyr, then by all means, go ahead with this plan of yours."
He gestured to Tal to follow him into the antechamber; once there, the Duke went over to a small desk took out pen and paper and scrawled a brief note. "Here," he said, handing it to Tal. "If he tells you that he's willing ifI agree, just hand him this, so he doesn't think he has to wait for an audience with me in order to ask me."
"But I thought he was working only for you, directly—" Tal began.
"He is, but Haspur are—painfully polite. Or at least Visyr is." Arden grimaced. "I detest all this protocol nonsense, but Visyr is so intent on not offending me that if I didn't cut through the etiquette, he'd be wasting far too much time going through channels for ridiculously simple requests. Now, I have to go rescue my lady from that odious little Count; you just follow the page to Visyr's quarters."
In that moment, Tal saw the resemblance between Arden and his cousin, the High Bishop. There was more than a mere family resemblance; there was a resemblance in the way they thought. The biggest difference showed only when Arden was with the Lady Asher; at that point, there was a relaxation and a softening that never showed on High Bishop Ardis's face.
As Tal followed the page to the upper-level area where Visyr's rooms lay, he wondered what Ardis might have been like if she had followed the Duke's path. Would she have been happier, unhappier, or much the same?
He couldn't picture her dressed in an ornate gown like Lady Asher, trailing about the seemingly endless corridors of this palace. He couldn't imagine what she'd do with her time; whatdid women like Lady Asher do all day? Ardis would go mad with boredom in a fortnight.
And he recalled Torney, that former Priest who had given up everything he had and was for the sake of his true love. There were many who would call him a fool for the decision he'd made; would Ardis say the same? Would Ardis have made the same choice he had, given the same set of circumstances?
Tal just couldn't picture it. Ardis was so much a creature of intellect that he couldn't even imagine her making a decision that was so clearly an emotional one.
And yet, if shehad made such a decision, he couldn't picture her ever looking back on it with regret. No matter what she decided, she would stand by her decision, just as Dasel Torney had, and find a way to make the best of her situation.
But for a moment he envied Dasel Torney and his wife, and not just because of their happiness, but for the ease with which they had made their own choices. He suspected that for them, there had never really been a matter of "choice"; it had all been a foregone conclusion that they would stand by each other. Therewere no questions, only certainties. Perhaps that much certainty was a form of insanity.
He only wished that he could be that certain of anything. It sometimes seemed that he spent all of his life second-guessing himself. Perhaps, ifhe had spent less time in analyzing things, he wouldn't be here; he'd be an ordinary constable with a wife and children.
Certainly the Duke was another one of these happily-wedded fellows, and he certainly would not have made any other choice but the one he had; no man who saw Lady Asher would ever think he could have done otherwise. But of course, he was the Duke of Kingsford, and he could do whatever he chose to and with whoever he wished; if he'd wanted to marry a common street-entertainer, he could have, and the cheers from his people would probably have been just as loud. As she herself had told Tal, Ardis had been blessed with fewer options than her cousin by simple virtue of her gender.
But now—what about now? Doesn't she have more options now than she did when she was subject to the will of her father?
Now the page stopped beside another door—this one with no guards outside it—and tapped on it. It was answered, not by a servant, but by the Haspur himself.
He looked larger here than he had in the station, or even in the Abbey. Perhaps it was because of the way he was holding his wings; arched above his body and held slightly away from it, instead of closed tightly in along his back. The page didn't seem the least intimidated by the bird-man, but then the boy probably saw him several times every day.
"This gentleman wishes to speak with you, Sirra Visyr," the boy said in his high, piping voice. The bird-man turned that huge, sharp beak and looked down it at his visitor. Tal became the focus of a pair of enormous, golden eyes that regarded him out of a face that had little in common, at first impression, with human features. It bore no expression that Tal could recognize, and no real sign of recognition.
That, however, did not mean that the creature didn't remember him. A Haspur, it seemed, could project a flawless raptoral expression of indifference when he so desired.
"This has nothing to do with the incident you were involved with, sir," Tal said hastily, trying not to appear uneasy beneath that direct, raptoral gaze. "Or rather, it does, but not directly. I have the Duke's permission to speak with you, if you would be so kind."
Visyr continued to examine him, unwinking. Finally the beak opened. "Perhaps you had better come in," he said, in his deeply resonant voice. Then, as he held the door open for Tal to enter, he looked back down at the page. "You may go, Joffrey," he said to the boy, his voice a bit softer and kinder. "I'll ring if I need someone."
"Thank you, Sirra," the boy replied, as Tal entered Visyr's suite and the bird-man closed the door behind him.
Well. So the Church has come to me in my own aerie. Interesting. I wonder why?Visyr regarded his visitor with a somewhat skeptical air. He felt much more at his ease here, in the Duke's Palace, than he had back in the city. This washis ground, his place, and the Duke had assured him personally that no one was going to be able to coerce Visyr into anything while he was under the Duke's protection.
Visyr busied himself for the moment in lighting his Deliambren lamps so he could see his visitor more clearly. Visyr was not particularly comfortable around open flame; no Haspur was. Feathers were terribly flammable. He would put up with lamps and fires if he had to, but he didn't have to. The Deliambrens had supplied him with his own lamps, and his own heating-unit that sat inside the fireplace. Both were supplied with power from plates that sat on his balcony all day to collect sunlight.
The human sighed as he took a seat at Visyr's direction; the Haspur wasn't all that well-versed in reading human expressions, but he thought the man looked tired. He finished lighting his lamps and turned around; the slump of the man's shoulders told him that if the human wasn't tired, he was certainly dispirited. There was nothing of the interrogator about him; in fact, he hadn't asked a single question yet. So, it was fairly obvious that the human hadn't come here to make further inquiries, so the next likeliest reason was that he had come as a supplicant.