Such an impassioned speech from the boy had surprised Sandon, particularly in such a public setting. He knew Tarlain was an idealist, a little impulsive, but he would have thought him cleverer than to give vent to such words in a large public gathering. He sipped at his drink thoughtfully as he watched Din Baltir. How exactly could the succession and the Kallathik be related? Din Baltir caught his eye, and Sandon raised his glass, giving him a brief smile. Din Baltir nodded and turned away. It didn't hurt to let the Guildmaster know.
Sure that the Guildmaster's attention was now elsewhere, Sandon crossed to where Men Darnak stood in a knot of higher Guild functionaries. He took his time getting there, stopping once or twice to charm a few of the crowd and pass a few words. Finally, he stepped discreetly behind and to one side of the Principal, cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice.
"Principal, we probably need to have a word."
The Principal looked back over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes briefly then gave a short nod. "If you'll excuse me, gentleman," he said. "There's a small matter I must attend to." He stepped back from the group and turned to face Sandon, drawing him to one side.
"Can this not wait, Yl Aris?" the Principal said with just a hint of annoyance. "Right now is not the best time."
"I believe it might be important, Principal," said Sandon.
"And so is this, Sandon."
"Yes, I know, Principal, but I really do think you need to hear this one."
"All right then. My chambers. But give it a few minutes, will you?"
Sandon nodded and moved discretely away to hover near one of the side walls.
Men Darnak's height gave him an easy advantage in a crowd such as this and after the few minutes had passed, where the Principal moved effortlessly through the crowd, bestowing a word here or there, lifting a hand to touch an arm or a shoulder, he glanced over the intervening heads and gave the slightest toss of his chin. The barest of nods from Sandon, and the Principal turned, seeking out Witness Kovaar, motioning for the priest to attend.
The Principal had drawn closer to the Church in the days since his wife's death, and it seemed to have given him some sort of solace. The priest had recently become a constant figure in the Principal's sphere. Sandon was prepared to tolerate the man, but he wasn't comfortable with it. On this particular occasion, he would have preferred to talk to the old man in private. He clamped his jaw shut and, suppressing a sigh, followed Men Darnak as he swept from the hall. The Principal strode down the side passage without so much as a backward glance. He paused impatiently at the double ajura wood doors waiting for them to catch up, then ushered them both inside.
Four
Men Darnak's chambers were functional and sparsely adorned. A wide desk scattered with papers and files dominated the room. A screen sat at one end of the desk. The only concession to taste was the row of portraits depicting Men Darnak's predecessors hanging along one wall. Sandon knew these had another purpose, to subtly reinforce Men Darnak's authority, the power of history and succession. Everywhere else, the stone walls remained bare in defiance of convention. Behind a door to one side lay the Principal's private sleeping chambers and on the other, his library. Since the groundcar accident more than ten years ago that had robbed him of his wife, Men Darnak had existed almost like a hermit, spending most of his time in these chambers, paying scant attention to anything other than the smooth functioning of the Guilds and the progress of his children. The Principal was strong; his control of the Guilds, the smooth operations of the Principate, all attested to that, but recently he'd been showing signs of things that troubled Sandon.
