ihilating any threat of mixed blood at the heart of the Imperium.”
“With this in view,” Antoninus put in, “we in the Senate were exceedingly interested in the discovery that this University is currently, and we hope temporarily, suffering a slight shortfall in its funding. The Emperor would, I am sure, in the right circumstances, be happy to put it to the vote in the Senate that the Empire relieve, to some extent, the embarrassments of a worthy institution, so that matters can be adjusted to the satisfaction of all parties.”
Dobrey chuckled. “And now he’s offering you a bribe.”
“To hand her over so that they can snuff her,” Genno explained.
Two laureled brows turned and lowered at the dwarf party.
“Or you can snuff her yourself if you’d rather,” Genno added.
“This is infinitely crude,” said Antoninus.
“But moderately accurate,” said Empedocles.
But I think I’m going to need Claudia for my moonshot! Corkoran thought. I’ve never seen anyone calculate as fast as she does. This morning he had felt nearer to getting to the moon than he had ever felt before. On the other hand, there was no denying that the University needed money badly. The two different needs pulled Corkoran this way and that like the rope in a tug-of-war. He could tell Claudia to work for him or he’d let the senators have her. But there was no guarantee that Claudia was as good as she seemed. He could take the senators’ money and use some of it to hire someone else who could calculate equally swiftly. But there was no guarantee that he could find anyone who could. No—hang on! There might be a way to keep Claudia and get the money. The senators, thanks to the dwarfs, had let him know that the Emperor had no idea they were here.
Corkoran raised his head with a regretful, sad smile. “Alas, gentlemen. You should have come and talked to me a week ago, before my fellow tutors discovered that the young lady in question, though a half-breed, is their most promising student for years. The University has already decided to award her a scholarship. Talent counts over blood here, you know. We have to retain the young lady on our books.”
The senators turned and looked at one another. Antoninus raised an eyebrow. Empedocles nodded. Both old men got up. “Then we won’t waste any more of your valuable time, Wizard,” Empedocles said, “but merely remind you, in view of your resolve to retain the young person in question, that the Empire never sleeps, never rests.”
Bother! Corkoran thought, watching the legionaries form up smartly in squads and smartly march out of the chamber with the senators pacing in their midst. That was a warning. It almost certainly meant more assassins. Still, they had dealt with one lot of assassins, so they could probably handle another—except that this time Corkoran was determined that the Emperor was going to help them do it. Just get rid of the dwarfs first. He waited until the doors had boomed shut behind the last legionary and turned to the dwarfs.
Dobrey grinned at him. “Oddly enough,” he said, “we’re here on a rather similar matter.”
“But we don’t beat about bushes,” said Genno. “We want that Ruskin back. We’ll pay in treasure or in gold bars, whichever you prefer. So how much?”
Now that the senators had left, the other eight dwarfs clearly felt no need to pretend to be an honor guard. They pulled out chairs and hopped up into them with sighs of relief. “Oh, my poor feet!” said one, Hordo, Corkoran thought, and leaned his elbows on the table. “Name your price, Wizard. You need the money. Everyone in town was telling us that your roofs leak and about how Bardic College and Healers Hall both refused you a loan last summer.”
This was true, unfortunately. Corkoran was still smarting, when he thought about the matter, about how rude the bards had been. He could see no way out of this demand. And he was exasperated because he was fairly sure that he needed Ruskin to work on the moonship even more than he needed Claudia to calculate its course. He thought of losing the chance of all the exquisite dwarf handwork Ruskin could do for him and almost ground his teeth. He could make Ruskin do the work by threatening to sell him to these forgemasters, but only if he could see some way of inducing these dwarfs to let him keep Ruskin here. It was fairly clear that they were too blunt and shrewd to believe him for a moment if he suggested another scholarship for Ruskin. “Why?” he asked, playing for time. “What do rich, high-caste dwarfs like you want with a measly runt like Ruskin?”
“That’s the nubbin of it,” Dobrey said. “We’re all Sons of Dwain here. Forgemasters. Artisans like Ruskin are our slaves—legally. They belong to us, Wizard. All the lower tribes do.”
“And we can’t have a slave running off like this,” Genno explained. “He has to be taken back and publicly executed as an example to the rest, or they’ll all think they can run off.”
“Yes, I see that,” Corkoran said. “But I met a lot of dwarfs while I was on the tours, forgemasters and artisans, too, and nobody ever suggested the artisans were slaves.”
“Western dwarfs,” Dobrey said dismissively. “Different customs. Dwain made our customs when he took over Central Peaks five hundred years ago. Did it legally, too, with Wizard Policant for witness. Came all the way here to this University to make sure it was lawful.”
“Look in your library,” said Hordo with his elbows on the table. “You’ll find that agreement in your Inventory. We brought our copy with us, just to make sure. That Ruskin belongs to us, and you’ve got to give him back.”
“Let’s see your copy then,” Corkoran said, still playing for time.
Dobrey, who was obviously the senior forgemaster, fetched a folded parchment from the front of his ornamental gold breastplate. It was brown with age and almost clattered with stiffness as Corkoran took it and spread it out. Yes, there it was, all in order, with Policant’s crabbed black signature beside the University seal at the bottom and a swirl that deciphered as “Dwain” at the other corner. “Artisans, miners, drudges … agree to form clans, these clans to be the sole property of forgemasters … this agreement in exchange for certain spells of protection donated by the University in consideration of one ton of gold … said spells only known to forgemasters and of proven value against the demons of the deep....”
So this was why the low-caste dwarfs sold themselves, Corkoran thought. Silly thing to do. But it clearly brought the University quite a profit. Wizard Policant must have been a smooth operator. “Do you still have the spells, or much trouble with demons?” he asked, wondering if he could offer to renew the spells in exchange for Ruskin.
Dobrey coughed. “Er-hem. Naturally we’ve still got the spells, but between you and me, Wizard, those demons were what you might call a legal figment. A lot of the dwarfs thought there were demons in the lower galleries, so it came to the same thing. And that doesn’t alter the agreement one bit.”
“Of course not,” Corkoran agreed. So the only thing for it seemed to be to operate as smoothly as old Policant and ask for a ton of gold this time, too. Then give half of it back in exchange for a team of artisans to work on the moonship. Who might do the work much faster than Ruskin on his own, anyway. “Well, then …” Corkoran began.
The big doors of the Council Chamber swung open, and Lukin came in. Olga was with him, very stately in her fur cloak. Lukin had a stately air to him as well, even more than Olga did. Knowing how important this was, Lukin had struggled against his usual desire not to be prince or king of anywhere and had managed to pull over himself all the royal magnetism he usually left to Isodel. “Good day, forgemasters,” he said, every inch a prince.
“Oh, go away!” Corkoran said irritably. “Two of my students,” he explained to the interested dwarfs.
“My business,” Lukin stated firmly and majestically, “is with the forgemasters.” Before Corkoran could say any more, he said to the dwarfs, “I am the Crown Prince of Luteria, and I find myself in need of a servitor in this place. By an oversight, I left my man behind in Luteria. I’ve come to buy Ruskin from you as a replacement.”
The dwarfs all put back their braided an