Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 199
12
Turcaret glanced out the window to check the angle of
the light. It was almost dark. Almost time.
"I sent a semaphore message to the king of Ravenon," he
said to Chan. "Shortly after you left Castor's manor. The king
had never heard of you, nor the damsel who calls herself
Calandria May. You are not couriers for Ravenon. We don’t
know what you are--but I did receive permission to have you
arrested and sent back to the capital in irons if I chanced upon
you again."
Chan took another sip of his wine, his expression bland.
"We’re alone in this room," he pointed out. "If you wanted to
arrest me, you would have already done it."
"True." At least Chan wasn’t the idiot he looked. "I had
a better idea," Turcaret admitted.
"I’m all ears," said Chan. Turcaret had never heard that
expression before; the image was so bizarre he laughed.
"I originally intended to turn you in," he said. "After all,
you rendered me a tremendous insult."
Chan sat up straight. "In what way? I’m sure we
intended none."
"You intended none?" Turcaret couldn’t believe his ears.
"Well, to start with, you stole my property away on a pretext."
"What property?" The fool looked puzzled now.
"The Mason girl."