‘Summat’s upset Father,’ Dovina said. ‘He’s not usually as bad as this.’
‘I’d suppose that the fathers of those dead lads have sent him messages by now.’
‘That’s most likely it. Though he’s fond of saying that a daughter like me would drive most men mad.’ She paused for a grin. ‘I’ll admit the justice of that.’
Alyssa kept a tactful silence.
‘Let’s go back to the bookchamber,’ Dovina said. ‘I have a plan, but we’ve got to find out where the old copy of this book may be. Everything depends on that.’
‘The old copy?’
‘The source manuscript, the crumbling smelly old thing that’s in our bookhoard. I’ve found notes about it from the priests of Wmm. They called it the “no one” book because it had “nevyn” written on the first page. I’ve got no idea what that means, but the notes said some scholars think the book’s hundreds and hundreds of years old. If we can get that one into the hands of the guild, Father shan’t be able to pretend we’ve forged it.’
‘You can smuggle it with you when you go.’
‘Assuming it’s here in the collegium. I have the awful feeling that we’re not going to have that kind of luck.’
As was so often the case when the subject was books, Dovina was right. According to the notes she found in the journal of the bookhoard, the ‘Nevyn Copy’ of Dwvoryc’s Annals of the Dawntime had been given over on loan to Haen Marn so that the Scribal Guild there could produce copies.
‘Ye gods,’ Dovina said. ‘Haen Marn’s over the border. Near the Bear clan.’
‘Right in the middle of the feud,’ Alyssa said.
They shared a sigh and sat down together on the wooden bench. The Bear clan of northern Eldidd had once owed fealty to Aberwyn, but years of intrigue had finally brought them some independence and a gwerbret of their own for their widespread holdings, which included a good stretch of southern Pyrdon. They had thus become hated by the gwerbretion to either side of them. To call them ‘sensitive’ about their delicate position lay beyond mere overstatement. For ancient reasons they had hated the Maelwaedds of Aberwyn for hundreds of years, and when the Electors handed the rhan to the Fox, the spurned Bears transferred their hatred right over.
‘The roads and canals to Haen Marn,’ Dovina said, ‘run right through their territory. I can’t send an Aberwyn courier to fetch the book. He’d be arrested and detained if they saw him.’
‘I know. At least Haen Marn’s a separate rhan, sacred and all that. They wouldn’t dare interfere with it.’
For some long moments Dovina merely stared, thinking hard, at the opposite wall. Alyssa idly studied the framed map of the ancient Westfolk city of Rinbaladelan that hung on the same wall and waited for her superior in rank to speak. Eventually Dovina sighed again.
‘I meant to ask you,’ Dovina said. ‘How did the speech in the market square go?’
‘I barely got started when the marshals marched in.’
‘What?’ Dovina turned on the bench to stare at her.
While Alyssa gave her report, Dovina continued staring, her mouth slack with surprise and, eventually, fear. ‘My apologies,’ Dovina said when Alyssa had finished. ‘I never should have asked you to come to the gates with me. Ye gods! Good thing you carried the book for me! Father probably thought you were a servant or suchlike. He never truly looked at you.’
‘Are they going to blame me?’ Alyssa could only wonder at herself, that she’d not seen this obvious question before. The sunlight in the room seemed to have become very bright and very cold. She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. ‘That heckler – I did try to ignore him.’
‘It was just like Father to put a hound among the hares! And the fellow who hit him – do you know him or suchlike?’
‘I only met him the night past. He was caught in the riot at the dun gates like I was.’
‘I suppose my wretched father will put the blame on him. Silver daggers have that awful reputation, troublemakers and violent and all of that. Father will find some way to charge him with summat bad.’
‘That’s horribly unfair!
‘Of course it is. That’s why we’re working to change the courts, innit?’
‘Well, true spoken. And ye gods, what about me?’
‘I sincerely think that my father has too much honor to hang a woman, but I’m sure he’d levy a huge fine on your family. Any chance at a guildmaster’s coin, he’ll take it. Worse yet, if he nabs this poor fellow, it’s the gallows for sure, to make an example of him.’
‘Here! I can’t allow – I mean, I don’t want—’
Dovina leaned forward to peer into Alyssa’s face. ‘You’re rather sweet on this fellow, aren’t you?’
Alyssa blushed.
‘Then we simply can’t let him hang.’ Dovina heaved a melancholy sigh. ‘I do wish Father had bothered to develop his rational faculties. I don’t suppose he’s ever read Prince Mael’s book about Ristolyn. But let me see, what can we do about the silver dagger?’
‘Could we hire him to go to Haen Marn and fetch the book?’
‘Now there’s a thought! It would get him safely out of town as well, and the Bears aren’t going to growl at a silver dagger running an errand. But I doubt me if the healers on the island would hand the book over to a silver dagger, even with a letter from me. It’s a very rare book.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose giving it to the Advocates would mean much, anyway. It would be a splendid gesture, but just a gesture. Though, curse it all! I want to honor Cradoc’s memory with more than a speech! A gesture would have been better than naught.’
‘Wait!’ Dovina paused to think something through. ‘Would it really be just a gesture? The Advocates could cite it as yet another legal precedent, and this one has teeth. But if we can’t fetch the book, truly, it matters very little. You heard Father. It’s too easy to claim the new copies as forgeries.’
‘Would the Lady of Haen Marn refuse to give it up, do you think?’
‘We have the loan note.’ Dovina held up the piece of pabrus. ‘They have to give it over to someone from the collegium who brings this to them. It’s too bad that we don’t know someone who’s been there, someone they know and would trust.’
Alyssa’s idea struck her as immensely dangerous, immensely foolish. Had it not been for Cradoc’s death, and her desire to do some grand thing to make that death worthwhile, she would never have spoken it aloud.
‘What’s so wrong?’ Dovina said.
‘I’ve been there.’ Alyssa breathed deeply and forced her voice under control. ‘They know me, my lady.’
‘Ye gods! Were you desperately ill, then?’
‘I wasn’t. Before I came to the collegium, my father fell ill. My mother had to stay and run the bakery, and so I travelled with him when he went to consult the healers.’ Alyssa paused, remembering. ‘It’s such an amazing place! And the healers! You really start to believe they can work dwimmer.’
‘Well, if such a thing truly exists. Though you do hear strange stories that make me wonder.’
‘Indeed. I was sitting with my father when one of the healers came in. Perra of Cannobaen’s her name. When she was done helping him, she took a moment to chat with me. Da was sleeping thanks to