“It would fit,” Gendra continued. “It would explain this particular action. They wanted to do some independent questioning.” She raked both sides of her face simultaneously, fingers up and down the gullies, up and down. “And, of course, they could claim the treaty wouldn’t apply if they really thought we were breaking it.’’
“There’s something more here … “ Bormas Tyle turned to stare out the window. “Something going on.”
“It may be wise to give them the Awakeners,” Gendra said. “A quick way to show them we aren’t lying.”
Tharius turned pale, miming another sneeze to hide his pallor and his tight lips. Behind the linen veil he composed himself. “It would show them nothing of the kind. They will find whatever they believe is true. The Talkers are experts at torture. What do you think the lady Kesseret of the Tower at Baris will tell them under torture? That she knows nothing? Perhaps, for a time. At last, however, she will say whatever they most want to hear. ‘Yes, there is a conspiracy. Yes, they are heretical. Yes, all the homosexuals and the celibates and the Mendicants are part of it. Yes, I was in on it, and so was my senior Awakener; in fact, so was the whole Tower and the entire Chancery, including the Dame Marshal of the Towers and the Protector himself!’ “
Gendra blanched, compressing her lips. Obviously she had not thought deeply enough, but she resented Tharius Don’s immediate apprehension in the matter. He was too often right. She longed for his pride to be riven, longed for his downfall.
He, seemingly unaware, went on. “No, Dame Marshal. Allowing our people to be questioned at the Talons is the last thing we should allow, if for nothing but humanitarian concerns, much less for the sake of our own skins.”
Gendra hated admitting he was right, but she was forced to agree. “Still, if we keep them here, the Talkers will believe their suspicions about us were true.”
“It would be better not to upset them … “ Bormas frowned. The mutual benefits conveyed by the Treaty of Thoulia included provision of elixir for all high-ranking Chancery officials. His next scheduled Payment was to occur very soon. Not a good time to have the Talkers upset, angry, or suspicious.
“Then we must do something to make them believe their suspicions about us are false.” Gendra moved to the table, stroking the polished wood as though it were some cowering animal she sought to tame. “Let us give them the Awakeners, but don’t let them be taken away. Let the Talkers question them here. Under the eyes of my own Accusers.”
Shavian agreed, turning his wicked three-cornered smile upon them. “Yes. Let the Dame Marshal supervise the questioning. The lady Kesseret will no doubt be willing to bear some discomfort for her faith.” His glance at Tharius might have been only casual, though there were needles in it.
“Allow her to be questioned by Talkers? When we know she is innocent of any wrongdoing?” Tharius Don turned on them, hands knotted, lips tight. They moved away, annoyed at his challenge of conscience. Expedience often dictated, but Tharius Don would seldom let it dictate in comfort. “Let her be questioned under ‘discomfort,’ as you put it, Bossit, when we all know she is a faithful Superior, guilty of absolutely nothing? Shameful!”
“Come, come, Tharius. She may not be entirely innocent,” Gendra challenged him, grinding her teeth like stones in an avalanche. “We are all guilty of something. Some minor thing. Sufficient to warrant some suffering, no doubt. It will not compromise her receiving further Payment, as she has been promised. In fact, we might make that day come sooner, as a reward.” The younger one was when the elixir was first provided, the more powerful its effect, and to provide it earlier than promised could be a powerful inducement to many things. Enduring torture included.
There was another brooding silence. Tharius Don seemed about to object once more, but he contented himself with an internal monologue and an angry glare before subsiding into his chair, one foot tapping at the carpet, a muffled heartbeat of annoyance. At last Bossit asked, “Are we agreed? The Accusers and Ascertainers are your people, Dame Marshal. I trust you will not allow more harm than necessary to come to these Awakeners. They are, after all, our people.” He used the royal possessive with heavy irony. Tharius gave him a hard, intent look, as though to see whether this was to be interpreted as a sensible instruction or as something with double meaning.