Queen's Hunt - By Beth Bernobich Page 0,38

book by title, author, and probable date of publication, then compare the list against an existing catalog drawn up several years before by the old secretary, Berthold Hax. Any duplicates would return to the ducal estates.

Gerek took the next book and carefully unwrapped the layers of cloth protecting it. An Account of Morennioù, written by Hêr Commander Dimarus Maszny. It was the man’s personal memoirs of leading an expedition to annex the island province of Morennioù. Inside, Maszny himself had written an inscription to Duke Andreas Koszenmarc, in memory of their friendship. A truly valuable book, which dated from almost a hundred years before the civil wars.

Resisting the urge to leaf through the delicate pages, Gerek recorded the necessary information. Outside, the bell towers tolled the hour, followed by three quarter hour chimes. Almost noon. Hanne or Dana would come by soon with his dinner.

He laid his pen down and blew upon the paper. Eighteen volumes accomplished. Two hundred more remained. He stretched to ease the ache in his shoulders and arm. It was quiet at this hour. Most of the courtesans were still asleep. Elsewhere, the chambermaids were freshening the private suites and parlors, and making the common room ready for the clients. Lord Kosenmark himself had risen well before sunrise for weapons drill. He had spent the usual two hours with Gerek, going over the week’s schedule and this latest delivery from Valentain. Now he was out riding with Lord Vieth and several other nobles.

With another flick of his attention to the door, Gerek slid a small diary from inside his tunic. Here was where he recorded his observations about Kosenmark and the household. It was a habit left over from his university days, when his professors had recommended the students keep journals for lecture notes, findings in their research, anything to help sift through the detritus of history.

He thumbed through the book, scanning the notes he had accumulated so far.

… House located in an exclusive neighborhood, midway between the merchant district and the governor’s palace. Numerous servants, as you might expect for a man of his station. More guards than the usual complement, however, and nearly all chosen from his father’s private men. Then there are the courtesans. Sixteen. Men and women equally. Two followed him from Duenne. The rest he recruited after his arrival in Tiralien. None openly acknowledge his political connections though they are all aware of the listening devices built into the house …

… Lord Kosenmark rises early for morning weapons drill. Day divided between his own concerns (house, staff, etc.) and visits to other nobles in the city. Note: of the names D. mentioned as especial friends—Lord Benno Iani, Baron Rudolfus Eckard, Lady Emma Theysson (memo: Lady Iani by recent marriage)—none visit the house, not even for the general evening entertainment, nor does he accept invitations from them. What invitations he does accept are of the most unexceptional kind, completely unlike the stories D. told me …

That was not entirely accurate. He had found all the luxury and decadence Dedrick had described. There were the perpetual feasts and games and a pervading air of the sexual. He’d met the famous courtesans: Nadine and Eduard, Josef, Tatiana, and the astonishingly beautiful Adelaide, who had pleasured the old king, Baerne of Angersee, himself.

Adelaide’s name recalled the latest scrap of information—that Adelaide intended to leave the pleasure house for Mistress Luise Ehrenalt’s establishment. Ehrenalt was a high-ranking member of the silk weaver’s guild. She was also a former member of Kosenmark’s shadow court. Gerek wrote that down, too.

He paused, pen hovering over the page as he tried to fit all these disparate clues into a single coherent picture. He had come here to uncover the treasonous actions of a self-indulgent lord. Instead he had found an almost ordinary household. If one could call courtesans and their clients ordinary.

Which reminded him. He blotted his last comment, turned the page, and wrote:

… And there is the cook’s daughter, Kathe Raendl, whose position is higher in the household than I had first estimated. It appears she is her mother’s chief assistant, and more. The girl Hanne tells me Kathe had befriended Ilse Zhalina even before IZ worked in the kitchens. It was she Lord Kosenmark chose to attend the young woman through her illness, and she who trained her in the kitchen. Even after IZ turned secretary then lover, she retained KR as a trusted friend, until her own break with Lord K.…

“Maester Hessler?”

Gerek dropped his pen, spattering ink

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