A Time of Changes

16

Eventually what had occurred became clear to me. My aunt had spoken of me to the marquis, and the marquis had conferred with the septarch Truis, who, concluding that it might embarrass him with Stirron to allow me any kind of employ, instructed the marquis to turn me away. In my fury I thought of going straight to Truis to protest, but I saw the futility of that soon enough, and since my protector Nioll had plainly gone out of Glin to shake herself free of me, I knew there was no hope in that direction. I was alone in Glain with the winter coming on, and no position in this alien place, and my lofty birth worse than useless to me.

Harder blows followed.

Presenting myself at the Covenant Bank of Glin one morning to withdraw funds for living expenses, I learned that my account had been sequestered at the request of the Grand Treasurer of Salla, who was investigating the possibility of an illegal transfer of capital out of that province. By blustering and waving my royal passport about, I managed to break loose enough money for seven days’ food and lodging, but the rest of my savings was lost to me, for I had no stomach for the kind of appeals and maneuvers that might free it.

Next I was visited at my hostelry by a diplomat of Salla, a jackal of an undersecretary who reminded me, with many a genuflection and formula of respect, that my brother’s wedding would shortly take place and I was expected to return and serve as ring-linker. Knowing that I would never leave Salla City again if ever I gave myself into Stirron’s hands, I explained that urgent business required me to remain in Glain during the season of the nuptials, and asked that my deep regrets be conveyed to the septarch. The undersecretary received this with professional grace, but it was not hard for me to detect the savage gleam of pleasure beneath his outer mask: I was buying me trouble, he was telling himself, and he would gladly help me close the contract.

On the fourth day thereafter my innkeeper came to tell me that I could no longer stay at the hostelry, for my passport had been revoked and I had no legal status in Glin.

This was an impossibility. A royal passport such as I carried is granted for life, and is valid in every province of Velada Borthan except in times of war, and there was no war at the moment between Salla and Glin. The innkeeper shrugged away my words; he showed me his notice from the police, ordering him to evict his illegal alien, and he suggested that if I had objections I should take the matter up with the appropriate bureau of the Glinish civil service, for it was beyond his scope. I regarded filing such an appeal as unwise. My eviction had not come about by accident, and should I appear at any government office, I was likely to find myself arrested and hustled across the Huish into Stirron’s grasp forthwith.

Seeing such an arrest as the most probable next development, I wondered how to elude the government agents. Now I sorely felt the absence of my bondbrother and bondsister, for where else could I turn for help and advice? Nowhere in Glin was there anyone to whom I might say, “One is frightened, one is in grave peril, one asks assistance of you.” Everyone’s soul was walled against me by stony custom. In all the world were only two whom I could regard as confidants, and they were far away. I must find my own salvation.

I would go into hiding, I decided. The innkeeper granted me a few hours to prepare myself. I shaved my beard, traded my royal cloak for the dim rags of another lodger nearly my height, and arranged the pawn of my ring of ceremony. My remaining possessions I bundled together to serve as a hump on my back, and I hobbled out of the hostelry doubled up, with one eye sealed shut and my mouth twisted far around to one side. Whether it was a disguise that could have fooled anyone, I cannot say; but no one waited to arrest me, and thus uglified I walked out of Glain under a cold, thin rain that soon turned to snow.