Fanuilh by Daniel Hood (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📗

it would be a good place for a quiet drink when he had to be there.

Donoé, when she was dragged from the kitchen by the anxious proprietor, was the girl he remembered. Hiding her fidgeting hands in a wet cloth, flushed and eyeing Coeccias subserviently, she was a far cry from the laughing young woman Tarquin had so gallantly sent on her way in the summer, but he could not mistake her looks. She was very young, perhaps only sixteen, and had the sort of prettiness that is mostly youth and innocence, and only really noticeable when informed with happiness. At the inn, confronted with the Aedile's bearlike scowl, her prettiness faded into fear, and she was not worth a second look.

Liam regretted it, recalling her happy smile in the summer, on Tarquin's veranda. Coeccias made it worse by snorting as soon as she appeared, which frightened her even more than her employer's peremptory summons.

"Herself?" Coeccias asked him, and when he nodded, went on gruffly: "Well then, to't. You wanted her."

Wincing at the words' effect on the wilting girl, Liam cleared his throat and spoke to her as pleasantly as he could, indicating one of the tables.

"Perhaps you'd care to sit? Coeccias, could you get us something to drink?"

The Aedile trudged grudgingly off to the proprietor, and the girl reluctantly took a seat at the empty table, staring wide-eyed at Liam, who smiled reassuringly.

"Do you remember me?"

She shook her head vehemently.

"You're sure? On the beach, maybe? You were there a few times."

Though her eyes could not get any wider, they changed expression from fear to recognition, her hands clapping to the tabletop to emphasize it. "From the beach! You were at the wizard's!" Recognition changed back to fear, and she practically wailed. "Oh my lord, is that the matter? I swear I'd nothing to do with his taking off, I swear!"

"I know, I know," he assured her hastily, aware he was handling it badly. "I only want to ask you a few questions, Donoé. I know you haven't done anything."

"I was sore sad to hear he'd died, sore sad, my lord!"

"Yes, yes, I know, but I have to ask you a few questions."

He patted her hand gently, which seemed to calm her a little, and Coeccias brought two cups of wine with ill grace, which gave her some time to · collect herself. The Aedile retired to the bar, leaving them alone.

"Now, Donoé, I have to ask you a few questions," he repeated, when she was more sure of herself. "About Tarquin. I need to know if you knew anything about his affairs."

"Oh, no, my lord, I never pried nor gossiped, my lord, I swear!"

"Let me ask that a different way. Do you know if he saw any other women?"

"Other women?" She was clearly puzzled.

"Did he bring any other women home that you know of? Any, maybe, that he met here, or elsewhere?"

She thought for a moment, and suddenly looked full into his eyes in shock.

"My lord!"

"What?"

"You think I ... I ... you think he knew me!" She whispered it fiercely, in disbelief and accusation, and Liam colored instantly. Hewas handling this very badly, he knew, but took comfort from the fact that Coeccias probably would have bungled it worse.

"Well, I suppose, I—" he stammered.

"He did no such," she stated indignantly. "I'm only a poor serving girl, I know, but I'm chaste, and Master Tanaquil was a true gentle! He'd an oath of purity himself, he said!" Momentarily stunned by her vehement defense of her virtue, Liam sought for words, and finally asked tentatively, "Then what were you doing at his house?"

It was her tum to color, and though he had thought the question natural, it seemed to deflate her rage at his insinuation.

"He wanted blood," she whispered, lowering her head in shame.

"Blood?"

"The blood of a virgin."

He had to strain to hear the words she spoke into her lap, but they disappointed him deeply. The empty decanter had held her blood, and Tarquin had probably crossed out the label because he had used it all. A hundred uses for virgin's blood, Fanuilh had said. Tarquin might well have gone through gallons of it, and the clue he had thought so much of was nothing.

Donrn! lifted her head and glared defiance at him again. "But it hurt not a bit, and Master Tanaquil was a true gentle, and paid me well, and there's naught wrong with what I did! I'm chaste, you, and Master Tanaquil was a true gentle! He'd an oath! I tell you, you've no right to slander me nor him, serpent!"

She was standing by the end of her tirade, though he thanked all the gods he could remember that she did not raise her voice. She did, however, tum on her heel after labeling him a snake, and stalked back to the kitchen with all the terrible dignity of an affronted and wrathful teenage girl. She even shouldered her employer aside.

Though he had not heard all of their exchange, Donoé's abrupt exit and Liam's chastened expression told him enough, and Coeccias laughed loudly, coming to the table.

"Come along, 'serpent.' Y'have insulted enough of Southwark's maids." He propelled Liam out of the inn to the street, leaving the cups of wine untasted.

"That," Liam sighed, "was very bad."

"Y'have no talent for searching into the innocent," Coeccias commented cheerfully, drawing him along the street, "and if that's a murderer, I'll scale the Teeth. Now, if she'd been a killer with blood on her blade and it at your throat, you'd have battered her to her knees with questions. No shame not to hone your wit on girls, Rhenford. Now, what'd she relate?"

Still unhappy with the way he had conducted the interview, Liam told what he had found out: the origin of the virgin's blood, the purpose of Donoé's visit to the beach, and most importantly, the oath Tarquin claimed he had taken.

"A vow to remain chaste, eh? I've heard wizards do stranger," the Aedile said. "It fair puts Viyescu's mystery maid