Ren. You’ve chosen a dangerous adversary.’
The prefect moved away. Now that Zinder had actually been removed to the prefecture, the whole area had assumed an atmosphere of disturbed indignation that seemed unlikely to flare more violently. However, it was obvious that only the presence of so many watchmen had prevented a riot and open .interference with the arrest. Ren understood how perilously close the incident had been to causing a breach of the peace and he saw that in this the Imaiz had a powerful weapon he could use against the Pointed Tails. By creating a public outcry at a similar maneuver he could easily throw the blame back on to the society and its employer as the prime sources of public unrest.
Ren’s arrival at the prefecture was just in time for him to witness the lodging of an official notice contesting the Imaiz ’s ownership of Zinder by Mallow Rade, a junior scribe of the Pointed Tails. When the paper had been recorded Di Irons, whose mood seemed to be one of thunder, called formally for a spokesman from the House of Magda to pose a rebuttal.
For a long time nobody moved. Then, from the back of the crowd, a young slave pushed his way forward and presented his stewardship credentials to Di Irons.
‘Ah, Barii.’ Di Irons seemed slightly relieved. ‘Do you know how Dion-daizan wishes to proceed in this matter?’
Barii, who bore his slave mark, together with the house symbol of Magda, like a proud badge on his naked arms, nodded. Ren was watching the youth intently, noting the same quiet confidence in the boy he had recognized in Zinder. Here was both an intelligence and a competence that had no place in the slave.
‘May I see the register from which Dion’s title is missing?’
Di Irons brought out the volume and opened it to the disputed page, exposing the rows of names scrawled painfully in a large and almost illegible script. One of the entries had clearly been overwritten at a later date. There was no doubt that the alteration had been deliberate.
Barii reached into his pouch and drew out some article the purpose of which was not plain until the unexpected brilliance of an electronic flash glared back from the yellowing pages. A second flash illuminated the startled face of the register clerk. Barii put his camera back into its pouch and bowed to Di Irons. If his face held any expression at all it was one of concealed amusement and anticipation.
Then Barii spoke.
‘Dion-daizan has noted the objections to his ownership of Zinder’s bond. Everyone in Anharitte knows that Zinder’s pre-eminence is largely due to her association with the House of Magda—thus there can be no doubt of the true tenure of her bond. However, the Imaiz is immensely concerned about the maintenance of the law on the three hills. In consequence he has directed that, since no clear tide to his ownership seems to be recorded in the prefecture, he will renounce his claim to being Zinder’s legal bondholder. He requests that the slave in question be put to public auction and that the proceeds of the sale be dedicated to the public funds of the city, as is the custom.’
Di Irons had listened to this speech with growing disbelief. He seemed about to throw in some crushing protest, but was stopped by something he saw in Barii’s face. The prefect’s shrug was massive and uncomprehending.
‘So be it,’ he said. ‘It’s the considered opinion of the prefecture that the bondship of Zinder has no clear tenure. The slave woman called Zinder will therefore be returned to the market and submitted to public auction. Let it be known that anyone desirous of obtaining this property may attend tomorrow at the preset hour and bid legal coinage for unrestricted bond rights. The matter is now dismissed from these courts.’
Ren’s attentive eyes fell upon the register clerk, whose hands had undoubtedly been responsible for the alteration of the entry. The clerk seemed relieved that Di Irons. had so easily acceded to the
The prefect moved away. Now that Zinder had actually been removed to the prefecture, the whole area had assumed an atmosphere of disturbed indignation that seemed unlikely to flare more violently. However, it was obvious that only the presence of so many watchmen had prevented a riot and open .interference with the arrest. Ren understood how perilously close the incident had been to causing a breach of the peace and he saw that in this the Imaiz had a powerful weapon he could use against the Pointed Tails. By creating a public outcry at a similar maneuver he could easily throw the blame back on to the society and its employer as the prime sources of public unrest.
Ren’s arrival at the prefecture was just in time for him to witness the lodging of an official notice contesting the Imaiz ’s ownership of Zinder by Mallow Rade, a junior scribe of the Pointed Tails. When the paper had been recorded Di Irons, whose mood seemed to be one of thunder, called formally for a spokesman from the House of Magda to pose a rebuttal.
For a long time nobody moved. Then, from the back of the crowd, a young slave pushed his way forward and presented his stewardship credentials to Di Irons.
‘Ah, Barii.’ Di Irons seemed slightly relieved. ‘Do you know how Dion-daizan wishes to proceed in this matter?’
Barii, who bore his slave mark, together with the house symbol of Magda, like a proud badge on his naked arms, nodded. Ren was watching the youth intently, noting the same quiet confidence in the boy he had recognized in Zinder. Here was both an intelligence and a competence that had no place in the slave.
‘May I see the register from which Dion’s title is missing?’
Di Irons brought out the volume and opened it to the disputed page, exposing the rows of names scrawled painfully in a large and almost illegible script. One of the entries had clearly been overwritten at a later date. There was no doubt that the alteration had been deliberate.
Barii reached into his pouch and drew out some article the purpose of which was not plain until the unexpected brilliance of an electronic flash glared back from the yellowing pages. A second flash illuminated the startled face of the register clerk. Barii put his camera back into its pouch and bowed to Di Irons. If his face held any expression at all it was one of concealed amusement and anticipation.
Then Barii spoke.
‘Dion-daizan has noted the objections to his ownership of Zinder’s bond. Everyone in Anharitte knows that Zinder’s pre-eminence is largely due to her association with the House of Magda—thus there can be no doubt of the true tenure of her bond. However, the Imaiz is immensely concerned about the maintenance of the law on the three hills. In consequence he has directed that, since no clear tide to his ownership seems to be recorded in the prefecture, he will renounce his claim to being Zinder’s legal bondholder. He requests that the slave in question be put to public auction and that the proceeds of the sale be dedicated to the public funds of the city, as is the custom.’
Di Irons had listened to this speech with growing disbelief. He seemed about to throw in some crushing protest, but was stopped by something he saw in Barii’s face. The prefect’s shrug was massive and uncomprehending.
‘So be it,’ he said. ‘It’s the considered opinion of the prefecture that the bondship of Zinder has no clear tenure. The slave woman called Zinder will therefore be returned to the market and submitted to public auction. Let it be known that anyone desirous of obtaining this property may attend tomorrow at the preset hour and bid legal coinage for unrestricted bond rights. The matter is now dismissed from these courts.’
Ren’s attentive eyes fell upon the register clerk, whose hands had undoubtedly been responsible for the alteration of the entry. The clerk seemed relieved that Di Irons. had so easily acceded to the
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