“Some of them, at any rate,” Talamir agreed. He looked broodingly off over Alberich’s left shoulder for a long moment, staring at nothing, but doing it in a way that tended to raise the hackles on the back of Alberich’s neck. What was he looking at, so intently, with that expression of focused detachment? Alberich was used to that “listening” look that Heralds got when they were conversing with their Companions, and this wasn’t that expression. It also wasn’t the absentminded look most people got when they were engrossed in their own thoughts. The closest analogy that Alberich could come to was that odd look that cats sometimes got, when they stared intently at something that apparently wasn’t there. It was a Karsite tradition that when they did that, they were looking at spirits. Talamir’s look was very like that.

But if the Queen’s Own was seeing ghosts, he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone.

Alberich repressed a shiver and coughed quietly to bring Talamir’s attention back to the present.

Talamir blinked, and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“I have to think at this point that your actor’s conversation was a deliberate attempt on his part to remind his control and his patron that he knows where all the skeletons are,” Talamir said. “I think he was trying to extract more money from them to buy his silence in case anything did happen to the Queen.”

Alberich thought that over. It was plausible. More plausible than any of his own theories. Norris might stay bought, but when you did that, there was less incentive for your “employers” to try to keep you in their pocket once they had what they initially wanted.

And theaters were more expensive to maintain than a stable full of racehorses.

“A dangerous ploy, that one,” Alberich observed. “He could be removed before a danger he becomes.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Talamir admitted. “But that is the best fit for what you overheard.”

Alberich nodded his agreement, but not without a sense of relief. If that was all it was…!

They finished their business, and Alberich made his way back to the salle through the dark. Not alone, of course; the moment he crossed over the fence into Companion’s Field, Kantor joined him.

:You’re still troubled.,: his Companion observed.

:I don’t like it, for some reason,: Alberich admitted. :Unfortunately, I don’t know why.:

:Well, what can you do about it?:

He pondered that for a moment, trying to think of all of the times Selenay could be vulnerable. Not when holding Court, not at Council meetings. Probably not in the gardens or in her own quarters, or at meals or entertainments—unless the harpists suddenly produced arrows and used their instruments as bows.

Not very likely.