Fairs' Point (22 page)

Texier shared kennel space with three other trainers, all of them crammed into an open shed that in fair season housed caravaners and their horses. Eslingen picked his way between the pens, Rathe at his heels, until he spotted the assistant trainer he had spoken to the day before. The man squinted warily at him, but stepped back against the wall where the noise was a little less deafening.

“
What do you want?”

“
I just wanted to check on the boy,” Eslingen said, with his most disarming smile. “Colyer. That was a bad business yesterday.”

“
So you brought the points?” That was Texier herself, bustling up out of the shadows. “You can get back to work, Denn, I’l take this from here.”

The assistant trainer nodded and hurried off, and Eslingen spread his hands.

“I haven’t called in the points, I assure you—”

“
Oh? So who’s he, then?” Texier shook her head. “I’ve heard better of you, Lieutenant.”

“
Today he’s my leman, come to see my dog run,” Eslingen retorted. At least in the kennel’s shadows she couldn’t see if he blushed. “If I’d wanted to make it points’ business I’d have gone to Fairs’ Point.”

Texier grunted at that, but her taut stance eased a fraction. She looked at Rathe.
“Is that true?”

“
I’m here entirely on my own business,” Rathe said. “Give you my word on that.”

“
Huh.” Texier folded her arms, glowering.

Rathe sighed.
“I’ll admit, yes, I’d like to have a word with Colyer—strictly off the books and only as it bears on an entirely different matter.”

Texier gave a sour smile.
“Be that as it may—and I don’t say I believe you, one way or the other—you’re too late. I sent Colyer home to his mother.”

Eslingen gave a sigh of a relief—for a moment there, he’d thought the worst—and saw the same reaction cross Rathe’s face. The pointsman said only,
“And where’s his mother, dame?”

“
Dhenin.” Texier met his gaze without apology. “I put him on a carter’s wagon myself last night.”

Eslingen swore under his breath.

“And why’d you do that, dame?” Rathe asked. “It’s the height of the season.”

“
I told him when I took him on that I wouldn’t stand for fighting. We have enough trouble with the city prentices without my boys stirring them up.” She shook her head. “I told him, cause trouble and it’s home you go. And I meant it.”

“
It wasn’t his fault,” Eslingen said. “He didn’t start the fight.”

“
He knew my rules,” Texier said. “And he certainly contributed, him and his stories about silver in the walls. I ask you, is that reasonable?”

“
He told you about that?” Eslingen kept his voice level, tried to sound idly curious.

“
Who didn’t he tell?” Texier retorted. “I swear he had every boxman and dog-handler at the Fair through here, wanting to hear the tale. Four silver seillings lodged in a tavern wall? Ridiculous!”

“
Where do you think he got the coin, then?” Rathe asked. “Assuming you’re sure he had it.”

“
He had it, all right,” Eslingen said, and Texier nodded.

“
Little fool. I told him I’d keep it in the strongbox if he wanted, but, no, he had to have it in his purse. Silver calls silver, he said, and you see where that got him.”

“
So where do you think he got it?” Rathe asked again.

“
He’s no thief,” Texier said.

“
Off the books,” Rathe said, patiently.

Texier hesitated, then shrugged.
“As I said, he’s no thief. But there’s been a plague of pickpockets, I thought he probably found their leavings, invented the rest of the tale to make the other apprentices leave him be.”

“
And you’ve seen no sign of the silver yourself?” Eslingen asked.

“
Of course not.” Texier gave him a look that she probably reserved for particularly hapless dogs. “He made it up. Now, if you’re done?”

“
We’ve a dog to see to,” Eslingen said, and Rathe nodded.

“
Thanks, dame.”

They shouldered their way back out of the kennel, paused by u
nspoken consent in the relative quiet and narrow shade of the next-door lodging, and Rathe rubbed at his ear.

“
Tyrseis, I’d forgotten how loud the beasts were.”

Eslingen opened his parasol, tilting it against the sun.
“Do you believe her?”

“
Do you?”

Eslingen paused, considering.
“I think she believes it. I don’t think it’s true, though. I think—I’m sure Colyer was telling the truth.”

“
She’s a very definite sort of person,” Rathe said, with a smile. “Still, I wish we could talk to the boy.”

“
So do I.” Eslingen shifted the parasol. “Although—if he talked as much as she said, he may be better off out of the city.”

“
The thought had crossed my mind,” Rathe said. “Coins in the wall—hidden there, I wonder? Left to recover later?” He shook his head. “It still doesn’t make a lot of sense. But if he did talk, Besetje will have heard.”

“
And, conveniently, we’ve a dog to visit,” Eslingen said.

They stopped at the Golden Eel to buy a packet of the liver bi
scuits that Naimi had decreed acceptable for dogs in training, and Eslingen watched as the shopkeeper wrapped and sealed the oiled-paper packet before tucking it into his sleeve.

“
Not that Naimi seems particularly worried about drugging,” he said, “though one hears stories, but she wants to be sure he doesn’t eat anything that’s gone off.”

“
Dogs do get drugged sometimes,” Rathe said. “But it’s better than it was. There was a scandal, oh, it must be ten years ago now, when a consortium of trainers conspired to fix the races, and they doped their dogs to do it. They’d have gotten away with it, too, except that one of the dogs had the wrong stars and reacted badly to the drug, or maybe got too much of a dose, and had a fit in the box. And that got Claes wondering—he was just named Chief then—and he teased it out in the end.”

Eslingen blinked at that. From everything he’d heard about Claes, he’d taken the man for a time-server, the sort of man who’d bought his promotion. He said, carefully,
“I’d never heard that story.”

Rathe gave him a sideways smile, as though he’d guessed the real thought.
“Claes is good, that’s the thing. He may be overwhelmed, but he does know what he’s doing, particularly where the races are concerned. He’s the one who set up the veterinary checks before all the races.”

Eslingen nodded. He’d seen the veterinarians about, taciturn women in gray magists’ gowns, watching as the dogs were loaded into their boxes or hurrying from one kennel to the next; Naimi had said they were there to prevent cheating, but he’d never really co
nsidered the details. “It’s necessary, I suppose.”

“
No one wants a repeat of that year,” Rathe said. “A bloody mess, it was. The Patent Administrator had to void most of the races, and there was hell to pay over the betting. It took a decree from the Regents to straighten it all out.”

“
What did they do? Or do I want to know?”

“
Froze the bets as they’d been paid, confiscated all the prize money that the involved trainers had won, and banned them for life.”

“
That’s surprisingly sensible. Pity they didn’t try something similar with the book-writers.”

“
I know.” Rathe shrugged. “Still, it seems to have gotten the message across.”

“
So it does,” Eslingen said.

“
Mind you, there were riots,” Rathe said. “That’s when I learned never to get in the way of a trainer’s stick. I’ve never seen one used on a dog, but they’re deadly in a fight.”

“
I’ll bear that in mind.” They had reached DeVoss’s kennel, and Eslingen slipped the badge from under his coat to display it to the lounging watchman. “He’s my guest.”

“
Of course,” the watchman answered, with a grin that showed he recognized Rathe. Eslingen folded his parasol, pretending he didn’t see, and ducked past him into the main building. It was crowded with pens, the ones at the front each with an apprentice to mind the dog, the rest supervised by a pair of boxholders, and Eslingen paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the reduced light. The smell of dog was very strong, and the noise was deafening.

“
Besetje!” Rathe lifted his hand in greeting, and Eslingen turned as well, unsurprised to see the assistant trainer smiling in answer.

“
Nico. And Lieutenant vaan Esling.”

“
Please, call me Philip,” Eslingen said, feeling it was required, and the young woman gave an odd, sideways shrug.

“
If you like. Have you come to see Sunflower?”

“
And brought him a present,” Eslingen said, producing the package from his sleeve.

Naimi took it, checking seal and paper with an expert glance, and nodded.
“He’s had his first run today, so there’s no harm in treating him. No more than four, mind.”

“
Absolutely,” Eslingen said. Sunflower came bounding to the front of his pen, barking wildly, and skidded to a stop when he saw the paper package.

Rathe snickered.
“I see someone’s well-trained. I don’t say who.”

“
There’s no harm in treats,” Naimi said.

Eslingen ignored them both, and broke the seal, pulling out the first of the hard little biscuits. Sunflower came up on his hind legs, dancing like a fiddler’s shill, and Eslingen passed the treat through the bars of the pen. Sunflower snatched it and retreated, shaking his head to kill it before he settled to consume every crumb. Eslingen passed him another, and looked at Naimi.

“When do you plan to run him next?”

“
I’ve entered him in the last race tomorrow. It’s not much of a prize, but it’s not much of a field, either. Think of it as practice.”

Rathe reached for the packet, and Eslingen let him take a biscuit, watched as he got Sunflower to turn in ecstatic circles before dro
pping the treat.

“
Is there any more news on Poirel?” Naimi asked, and Rathe shook his head.

“
Too soon, I’m afraid—”

The door to the trainer’s room at the end of the row snapped back, and an all-too familiar figure appeared, DeVoss at his heels, fury in every line of her body.
“Nico,” Eslingen said, but it was too late. Voillemin had seen them, and was striding toward them, clearly ready to take out him temper on someone else. Naimi took a step backward, then held her ground with an effort that made her shudder.

“
Rathe! I thought the chief told you to stay out of our business.”

“
He’s just here with me,” Eslingen said. “Come to see the dog—”

Voillemin ignored him.
“Rathe! I’m talking to you!”

Rathe dropped the last biscuit to the capering dog, and handed the packet of treats back to Naimi.
“I expect everyone in the kennel heard you. It’s my day off, I’ve come to the races.”