And here was another clownish tightrope to walk. Too deferential and Sallis would immediately disbelieve him. Not deferential enough and the man would cut his own throat before granting a hint of consideration.

“My lord, it is unfortunate that I could not find another way to gain your ear,” Morgan said, remaining seated, but lacing his voice with all due deference. “I’ll shortly be absent from Elvado and—”

“The Garrick house party,” Sallis grunted. Without embarrassment he shucked his robe to reveal a decrepit, wrinkled nakedness, and took a seat on the bench opposite. “Which means you’ll be absent another Council meeting.”

A lifetime of circumspection allowed him to mask the surge of anger. And when will you learn to keep your mouth shut about my doings, Venette? “Regrettably, my lord. Yes. But I understand there is nothing of urgency planned for discussion. Should that change, of course I will attend.”

Closing his eyes, Sallis made a show of wafting the billows of pungent steam closer for his inhaling. Even old, even naked and sweating, he posed a threat. The power that slept in him gave off as much heat as the room’s heated mineral bricks.

“You know it was a mistake, Morgan, to take that unranked mage into your protection.”

“Not protection. Custody,” he replied, and used his towel to blot stinking sweat from his brow. “Nor do I hold it a mistake. But we can agree to disagree on that.”

“Can we?” Sallis’s eyelids rose, slowly. “Morgan Danfey, you’re a presumptuous man.”

And you are a man who’d best serve Dorana by dying.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “No presumption was intended.”

With a snap of fingers stripped bare of their customary rings, Sallis caused more water to spill over the steam room’s hot mineral bricks. Clouds of heated, healing water swirled between them.

“An unranked mage who knows her place,” he said, when the hissing had died down, “has a place and a purpose.”

“By which you mean that Barl Lindin has neither?”

Fat drops of sweat rolled indolent down Sallis Arkley’s predatory face. “By which I mean you play a dangerous game. No ranked mage with any pretension to wisdom sports outside the confines of his purview. To do so is to court certain disaster.”

Anger surged again. “Lord Arkley, I think you are too subtle for me. If you would proffer advice, I beg you, proffer it plainly.”

“Barl Lindin is a menace.” Another smile, this time anything but genial. “To herself, to Dorana, and to any mage lending her sympathy. I thought you had a greater care for your position. You do know there is precedent for a mage to be dismissed from the Council?”

Morgan let a hint of his own displeasure show. “My lord, you’d need cause. And since you have none, I see no point to your point. Nor did I disturb you here in order to—”