Fanuilh by Daniel Hood (best books for students to read TXT) 📕

through his now-trimmed beard and looked around the garret with mild curiosity. "Truth, Rhenford, I may well do that ere long. I've seen some rare parchments this day." He stood by Liam's table, idly shuffling the papers there, occasionally sparing a glance out the window. Liam leaned casually against the door.

"Oh?" he said, with as much indifference as he could muster.

"Oh? Oh, indeed. Rare parchments, I say, rarer than rare. The wizard's testament, booked and noted in the Duke's own court, by the Duke's own clerks, and waxed with the Duke's own seal. A rare testament, that."

"How rare, Aedile Coeccias?"

The burly officer found something that interested him in the papers on the table, and Liam thought belatedly of his list of suspects.

"Y'are a scholar, Rhenford?" Coeccias asked suddenly. "I have studied," Liam began, wincing over the list.

"Tarquin must've liked scholars, Rhenford. He left you all."

"What?" He could not hide his astonishment, and forgot the list. "Left me all?"

"Seat, fortune, goods-all. Y'are amazed?"

"Of course," Liam stammered. "I hardly knew him!"

"Better than anyone else, it seems. It'd be a strong stroke against you, in the Duke's court."

The return of Coeccias's suspicion hit Liam hard on the heels of the news of Tarquin's will. "You know, in the days when your title was coined, if a man were falsely accused, his accuser was held guilty for the crime," he said coldly.

Coeccias chuckled. "I'd expect a scholar to know that, but I'd also expect him to know that the Aedile's office exempted him from the same statute. How else to uphold the law?"

Stung, Liam flushed. He had not thought the roughlooking Aedile would know the law's qualifier. His hands bunched at his sides, but he said nothing. Coeccias dropped his eyes to the paper that had interested him.

"I'll admit, Rhenford, I came intent on clapping you in. I thought the testament would unnerve you, and if pressed hard, you'd break. But now I think I've erred. Y'are a poor actor, Rhenford, too poor for a killer. And I uncover this scribbling." He held a piece of paper up, nothing but mild curiosity in his voice. "Now, it strikes me strange that a scholar should have a list of a dead man's acquaintances, with notes of arguments and visits all within the last sevennight. Truth, very strange. I'd almost say that scholar was idly scribbling a list of who might have taken off the dead man. Wouldn't you?"

He gave a small smile, and Liam frowned but said nothing.

"Can you think of a reason why a scholar should make such a list?"

"Perhaps," Liam said slowly, trying to control the anger he knew should be directed at himself for leaving the list out, "perhaps he thought the Aedile was too much of a fool to find the murderer, and decided to do the job himself."

Coeccias roared with laughter, filling the garret with the surprising sound. He slapped his knee with the list.

"Truth, perhaps he did! Perhaps he did! Oh, y'are a rare murderer, Rhenford, a rare murderer!" Fresh laughter exploded out of him as he folded the list carefully in quarters and stowed it in his black tunic. Liam had no idea what to do, and simply waited while the Aedile finished his laughter.

"Come," Coeccias said finally. "I'd have you eat with me, Rhenford."

It was drizzling still, but Coeccias chose a tavern nearby, and ducked quickly through the cold shower without a word. Liam sat across the plank table, looking at the Aedile with distrust only half-concealed as the larger man called across the almost empty common room to order beer and food. When the keeper had recognized his order, he turned to Liam with a serious look.

"So, the eyes that scan tomes now con a murderer." Liam nodded, wondering what the Aedile was thinking. "Truth, Rhenford, that likes me not. I'm not sure I need you murking the waters with ill-advised questions. Now, I know you think me a clown"—he held up a hand to forestall Liam's denial—"and you may have the right of it. The eagle's eyes are not mine, and I don't see into shadowed hearts. I'm certainly simpler than a scholar, no matter how innocent his face. Yet I'm still Aedile."

"Which means?" Liam had begun frowning deeply at the mention of his innocent face. He found it difficult to contain his uneasiness, and drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the tavern through the smoky rushlight.

"Which means I can't very well allow you to search out an assassin on your own. Yet you have a list of possibles that I'd never have had, and you knew the wizard best. Not well, perhaps, but better than any else. And I can't tell you not to search."

"So?" He was on the brink of being rude when a serving girl came by and placed beer in clay steins on the table, along with a basket of bread, salt and boiled eggs. The Aedile dug in, salting a torn piece of bread and an egg and eating them in big bites. He left Liam waiting impatiently until he had washed down his first egg with a gulp of beer, and then spoke as he set about preparing a second egg.

"So, Rhenford, I'll find you running about the town, as I said, murking the waters and making my work harder. And," he said, gesturing significantly with his egg before biting into it, "you'll find me doing the same to you."

Liam took an egg and nibbled at it unsalted, some of his irritation dissipating as he guessed where the Aedile was headed.

"So we are in each other's way, Aedile. That will be inconvenient if either of us is to resolve this."

"Truth, inconvenient is too small a word for such a large stumbling block."

"What will we do about it?"

Coeccias once again paused as the girl put down two steaming pies on wooden platters.

"I could ask you not to involve yourself," he said, steepling his fingers over the pie and examining Liam's face, and then waved away the suggestion with