It could also be that someone in this city, possibly with the Church, had recognized him as the "demon" who killed a Church Guard. Since that killing could not actually be proved, this might be their own way of seeing that justice was done.
All of those people would have ample reason to try to use Nightingale, even someone connected with the Church and High Bishop Padrik.
That might be worst of all for her. He had seen the shadowed fear in her eyes on the single occasion when they had spoken about the power of the Church_the idea of Nightingale in the hands of a sadist like Padrik left him cold and shaking.
He would not have been happy until he had forced her to confess to some awful crime, so that he could have her done away with in a way that brought him more power. He would have done it as casually as swatting an insect, and I know that there are more men like him in this human Church. I have seen them, watched them as they watch me in the Court, their eyes full of hot hatred, or worse, cold and calculating indifference. Like Padrik, others are important to them only as the means to power, or the taking of power from them.
He was so lost in his own bleak thoughts that he didn't realize Nightingale's last set was over until she came to his seat and tapped him on the shoulder. He started and stared up at her.
"Let's go up to the roof," she said, not commenting on how jumpy he was. "You'll feel better up there with open sky above you."
Now, how did she know that? Or was it simply logical deduction for a creature with wings?
Whatever the cause, it shows a sensitivity that I had not expected from a human.
He followed her up several flights of stairs, down a corridor on the fourth floor that she said was part of the staff's area, and up a short set of ladderlike stairs. She pushed open a hatchway and climbed up; he followed her to find himself once again under the open sky. But now it was quite dark, with stars winking through thin, high clouds.
She shut the hatch quietly. "There are probably a few more people up here," she said quite softly, "but they won't bother us, and I know where they are likely to be." She beckoned to him, and he followed her, a gracefully moving shadow, lightly frosted with silver from the half moon overhead. She took him to the very edge of the roof and patted the raised rim of knee-high poured stone that kept people from walking right off the edge.
"This makes a perfectly good bench if you aren't afraid of heights," she told him, laughing a little at the absurdity of the idea of a Haspur with no head for heights. He echoed her laugh_though it sounded a bit feeble to him_and joined her on the improvised seat. A warm thermal rose from the pavement below, still heated from the afternoon's sun.
"I come up here nearly every night except when I am very weary," she told him as she looked out over the city below, then up at the moon and stars above. "It's very peaceful. I'm sure Freehold is a wonderful place, but if you work here, you get very tired of it, especially if you aren't particularly used to cities. I don't like cities very much, myself. I prefer the countryside. I'd trade a hundred Freeholds for one good Faire at Kingsford."
He had more than his share of questions that he wanted to ask her about that. What in the world was she doing here, for one thing! Why here and why now? The last time he had seen her, she had been going in the opposite direction of Lyonarie! There were no Free Bards here, at least none that he knew of, and probably not many Gypsies, either. So what had possessed her to come here, and what had possessed her to take a position as an entertainer in Freehold of all places?
The trouble was, if he asked questions, she would be as free to ask questions of him. "I was rather surprised to find you working here," he said finally, trying to find a topic that would not lead back to the weeks he did not want to discuss.
Only a few weeks, really. Not very long at all to turn me into a rabid murderer.
"Not half as surprised as I was," she replied dryly. "I have been wondering if I should tell you this_but given what happened tonight, I think perhaps I'd better."
If she should tell him_She gave him no chance to collect his thoughts.
"Our mutual friends, the Deliambrens, wanted me to come here to ferret out information for them," she said, surprising him all over again.
Nightingale? Working as a Deliambren agent? But_
"Them, among others, that is," she added, and coughed. "I have many friends among the non-humans, and they seem to have a high regard for my ability to observe things. They asked me to come here and try to discover what I could about_oh, I know this sounds ridiculous, but there are reasons_about the High King. He used to be a great leader, but now it seems that there are other people making all the decisions. I was besieged on all sides, when it came down to it; I had at least three different people ask me to come here and simply keep my eyes and ears open."
"Why you?" T'fyrr finally asked.
She tapped her fingers on the balustrade. "To be honest, I'm not certain. I have done similar things in the past, but_T'fyrr, it was never something like this. They have more faith in my limited abilities than I do, I suppose." She shook her head. "As it happens, they are all people to whom I owe something_loyalty, favors, respect. I did listen. I understood why they were asking me. I knew that there were, indeed, some things I could learn, even with my limited abilities. Much to their disappointment, I refused to promise anything, and I hope they are not even aware that I made it here."
He felt his beak gaping in shock at her words. Not just that the Deliambrens had tried to recruit her as an agent_but that she was going along with it without any of the help she would be getting if she had agreed to aid them!
"But why_why are you doing this alone?" he asked. "Isn't it more dangerous, uncertain?"