Читать книгу Blindfold - Kevin J. Anderson, Брайан Герберт - Страница 23

Dokken sat on one of the benches in his dressing room and removed his boots, tugging on the black leather. Sunlight streamed over the barren bluffs surrounding his villa, shining through the crisscrossed, wrought-iron window bars and casting shadows like a spiderweb on the tile floor.

Maximillian stood just inside the door, tall and serene, his hands clasped behind his back. Schandra had spent the night in her own bedchamber, and Dokken had gotten a good night’s sleep.

Now energized from his morning ride, Dokken scooped a few fresh strawberries from a bowl Chef Garien had placed on the stone end table, then stripped out of his riding leathers. He sponged himself off with a damp rag, dipping it into a glazed ceramic basin and wiping his perspiration away with the cool cloth.

He hummed quietly as he slipped into cool cotton pants and a white silk shirt, draping his riding leathers on a brass stand to air out. Unselfconsciously, he dressed in front of his manservant, paying him no heed. Maximillian had been a fixture at the villa for so long, Dokken could be comfortable around him.

“All right, Maximillian. I’m listening.” He tugged a strawberry stem from his mouth and tossed it next to the fruit bowl. “How did everything go last night?”

“As planned,” the manservant droned. “Cialben is dead—and very surprised, too, I might add. His body should be found sometime this morning when the warehouse crew checks in.”

“I’ll probably get a frantic call from Tharion later today,” Dokken said.

“Yes, you probably will.”

“He knows just enough to put the pieces together the way I want him to. Tharion is the type of person who doesn’t like getting a glimpse of what’s really going on around him. It ruins his delusions, and he feels powerless.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I won’t let it become one. After all his years in the Guild, a few self doubts will be a good experience for him. Anything else?”

Maximillian pursed his lips. “News is that some of the Pilgrim settlements are becoming restive, demanding their own homeland again. They’re finally feeling downtrodden. Despite their isolation, they have established channels of communication, so I suspect plenty of sedition must be flying around. Supposedly, no one knows who’s starting it.”

Dokken raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? Good. Continue to keep a low profile in your guise as the Pilgrim Adamant. And make sure our own Pilgrim colonies at the lakebeds don’t hear any of it.”

Maximillian nodded. “As we discussed, I am focusing on the big settlements at Sardili Shores. They have the highest concentration of Pilgrims, and I anticipate an uprising in the near future.”

Dokken laughed. “Old Sardili will just wave his hands and hold a meeting and ask everyone to please be friends. It’s his style, and he won’t be able to comprehend why it doesn’t work in a complex system. Else?” He cracked his knuckles.

“Difficult to get firsthand details, but there has been another disturbance in Bondalar Holding, a riot of some kind. A few homes were burned. Apparently, a family feud started when rivals got hold of Veritas and learned how deeply their mutual hatred ran. The brawl lasted a whole afternoon and far into the night. Bondalar’s sol-pols put it down severely, and the news has been suppressed, but I made sure it leaked out anyway.”

Dokken laughed. “Good, good. You’re a master, Maximillian.”

“You have taught me much, sir.”