in Ranke.” The Archpriest Arbalest settled a little more comfortably in his
chair, and Lalo’s sensitive fingers, responding, adjusted a line.
“An excellent position, really, right at the heart of things. Everybody who is
anybody pays homage there eventually, and whoever transmits their petitions to
the god can gather quite a lot of useful information in time.” Smiling
complacently, the Archpriest smoothed the brocaded saffron folds of his gown.
“Mmnn-very true-” murmured Lalo with the fraction of his mind that was not
mesmerized by his work.
“I wish you would let me look at what you are doing!” the priest said
petulantly. “It is my face you are immortalizing, after all!”
Shocked into awareness, Lalo stepped back from the easel and looked at him.
“Oh no, my Lord, you must not! It has been strictly ordered that this picture
shall be a surprise. None of the sitters is to see it until the entire painting
is revealed to the Emperor. If you try to look I will have to call the guard.
Indeed, it is as much as my life is worth to let anyone see the picture before
its time!”
And that, at least, was perfectly true, thought Lalo, daring to look at the
canvas with conscious eyes at last. Against the crude backdrop of a pillared
hall had been sketched the rough outlines of five figures. The one on the far
left had been filled in yesterday with the picture of Lord Raximander, the first
of the Commissioners to serve as model here. He looked like a pig- complacently
self-indulgent, with just a hint of stubborn ferocity in the little eyes.