Page 28 of Claiming the Tower
“Ah.” The string of monosyllables should have felt threatening. Certainly, that was entirely within the Council Member’s scope. But instead, they felt like touches of beneficence. “Your evidence?”
“Nothing direct, of course.” Now Hereswith looked up, more evenly. Or at least she willed herself to keep it even. She could feel damp pooling in her back and under her arms, the tension of it on top of everything earlier. “We try to be more subtle than that in these halls.”
The sound that came next was high and sharp, and then it formed into what could only be called a cackle. “You have higher standards than your colleagues.” Marcus, apparently, was excepted via a nod. “If you had the reach to do what you wanted, what would you do?”
Hereswith had considered this half a dozen times in the last week. “Make arrangements, which would take some negotiation and at least two rounds of bribes, for portal connections on the continent. Send a small group, four or five people, a range of skills, out to evaluate the actual situation. What is the state of the supplies, of the troops, of the methods of moving people around? Are there needs that no one has actually explained? Or rather I’m sure there are, but not what they might be. Take that information and do something useful with it. Rather than this dancing with shadows.”
“You are upset.” Magistra Ventry said it as if she were calling the sky blue.
“I do not care for incompetence. Especially selfish incompetence. I have a great deal of sympathy for Cassandra, out of the epic past.”
“Oh, indeed.” Magistra Ventry tilted her head, peering as a raven might. “Have you ever shown any talent for precognition or prophecy?”
“Not that I am aware of, Magistra.” Hereswith answered it before she could think of reasons to refuse.
Magistra Ventry stood, or rather one moment she was sitting and the next she was standing, with no visible change of state. A fraction of Hereswith’s mind realised there was some particular magic at play there, but she did not know what. “I will have a word with my colleagues. And with yours. You may hear from us again before next week’s meeting.”
“If I can assist, Council Member, of course, you have only to ask.” Hereswith stood, more hurriedly, and Marcus straighted up by the wall.
“Spend some little time considering the current state of those leaders of Albion who are refusing to act.” Magistra Ventry’s voice had weight now, like someone throwing pebbles into the centre of a still pond, the ripples shimmering out. “That will be of use.”
“Of course, Magistra.” Then Marcus was opening the door. Magistra Ventry went through it. Hereswith heard her using that sharp pitched voice. She applied it to calling half a dozen people to attention who had, Hereswith suspected, all been lurking out in the hallway.
Marcus closed the door silently, then came and sank down in the chair, staring at the cup of tea. “The tea cup’s empty. When did she drink that?”
Hereswith blinked at it. “I— what just happened?”
“You made a good impression. I managed to avoid unpleasant notice.” Marcus’s chin jerked at the door. “Everyone else, well. Best we stay in here for a bit. Talk about it tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Tomorrow they’d be in London, with a different set of protections and many fewer would-be eavesdroppers. “I want to think about it some first.” Then she let out a slow breath. “There’s more tea in the pot. Probably. Have some. And let’s work through the full invitation list for the end of the month. We have to do it sometime. Once that’s done, it should be safe for me to find Mistress Yelton and check on her.”
That routine, at least, took them an hour, long enough for everyone in the hallway to disappear, and for both of them to make it to the stairs. Mistress Yelton had found some comfort in tea and solitude, and Hereswith only had to spend half an hour talking to her about the realities of their department.
Chapter 20
That evening at Verdant Court
“Here’s your chocolate.” Bess offered a delicate porcelain cup to Hereswith, then poured out another for herself. They’d just finished a somewhat late supper. Bess had been in Trellech until five, but Hereswith had not come home until nearer seven. Now it was nine. Her father was in bed. Hereswith had just changed into her nightgown and wrap, obviously intending to do the same sooner than later. “A longer than expected day?”
“Longer, more annoying, also more terrifying.” Hereswith’s voice had a curious neutrality to it, given the second and third adjectives. “Do you want to hear it?”
“If you wish to talk about it, yes. Otherwise, if you need a distraction, I have decades of experience in talking about slight, pleasant things that have no real bearing on the world.” Bess was not quite as good at matching the tone as she’d wanted, but it got Hereswith to smile for a moment, so that was all right.
Hereswith stretched her hands out for a moment, some slight cracking audible in her shoulders. Bess considered that, but held her tongue for a moment. If Hereswith were inclined to deeper topics, Bess didn’t want to discourage that. “It was the weekly meeting with the Council Members and a range of senior Ministry staff.” Again, her voice had that distance to it. “I was sent out, part way through.”
“They what?” Bess nearly dropped her cup of chocolate, leaning forward. “Why?”
“Oh, that’s not the interesting bit.” Hereswith glanced over at Bess before looking out the window into the dark. “Magistra Ventry, Council Member Ventry, came to speak with me about it.”
“That would be the terrifying bit, then.” Bess didn’t need to make it a question. She had only ever seen Council Member Ventry at a respectful distance, but she’d heard some of the gossip. Everyone had, who paid any attention to the gossip or the news.
“Oh, yes.” Hereswith swallowed. “I can’t remember right now. The chocolate is restorative, but its powers have limits. What have I said so far about the meetings?”
“Weekly, with various representatives, for discussion about what Albion’s role in the current conflict could and should be. Resources, in terms of people, materials, magical items. And also knowledge and experience.” Bess considered what she already knew. “Council Member Tipson and others of his generation, who served under Wellington, for example.”
“This is, as people keep reminding us, a different sort of war, but yes, that sort of thing.” Hereswith paused and took a sip from her chocolate. “The point I raised, just before I was sent out, was about the lack of accurate information being provided to us. Or, I am increasingly certain, to the relevant Ministry departments on the non-magical side.”
“Huh.” Bess had questions about that, but instead she asked, “And where does Council Member Ventry come in? Or the rest of the Council, actually. I thought they rarely did that sort of administrative work.”
