Chapter 39

APRIL 27TH

G riffin had been staring at the papers on his desk for a good hour, and he definitely had a headache growing at the base of his skull. The knock on the door startled it. It wasn't Charlus. For one thing, it was the wrong knock, and for the other, Charlus was on an errand that would take him another half hour, more than likely.

"Who is it?" Griffin called out, pitching his voice to carry.

"Antimony, if you have a minute." She hadn't journaled first, which was unusual. And she hadn't had ordinary business in the Courts today. The inheritance court had been quiet all week.

"Come in." Griffin looked up, trying to read her expression.

She turned around and closed the door, then looked back at him. "Wards, please? Full privacy."

Griffin tilted his head. "Tea? There's some in the pot." He then took a proper moment to settle himself and call up the three layers of wards he rarely bothered with. "Or would you rather do this elsewhere?"

"No, here's good, now it's warded." Antimony poured herself a mug of tea and sat down facing him. "No meeting for half an hour or so?"

"No. And Charlus will check before coming in." Griffin leaned back. "What's going on, and why the..." He waved a hand at the door.

"Gossip. And not the amusing kind, like you showing Mistress Matthewman the city." Antimony considered. "It is good to see you happy, though."

"We will see about having you round for supper, if you ask nicely. Annice had a lovely idea about suitable furniture for purpose," Griffin said, teasing for just a second. "And you may get to know her better. I might even go so far as to leave you in a room together for a bit."

Antimony snorted, then sobered. "More seriously, what have you done to stir up Nestor?"

"Exist? Demonstrate that being sent off to Whitby was some use? Have a plan for moving forward that he could not stall or forbid? I've Lamont's approval, and Christopher and Gloriana both have given their agreement." Griffin turned his hand palm up. "Both parts, the new project and resetting the inheritance court."

"More than that, I think. He's been agitating. I'd have told you sooner, but I only heard the ripples of it Monday, and it took me yesterday and today to track down a bit more." Antimony tapped her fingertips together. "What do you think of him?"

"Antimony, you are my friend. Don't ask me that." Griffin had a rule for himself about not speaking badly about his colleagues, even when it was exceedingly tempting. Not unless it was part of some direct professional inquiry and he had to give a true response. Then he considered and came up with enough of an answer. "I'm clear he doesn't think I'm fit for duty. Personally, I prefer for Lamont to choose me or Harriet over Nestor, and that's not subtle at this point. But from what I have seen, he keeps all the contract cases running smoothly enough, and he's good with the details necessary for that. Even the parts about which rooms specific parties wait in."

"And what will you do if I share information with you that falls into that sort of gossip?" Antimony leaned forward, crossing one leg over the other, which in her always was a sign of being on the hunt.

"I cannot stop you," Griffin said, spreading his hands. "And if there's something you think I need to know, I trust your judgement. You've demonstrated that you are, hmm. How to put this? Not petty."

It made Antimony chuckle. "No. And that's really the problem. There isn't a sign Nestor has done anything wrong, but there are signs of him being petty. More than just you and the chair, or you and your competence. And some of it's taken on a nastier edge. He was complaining Charlus had done a bit of paperwork wrong. Don't worry, Mistress Henning took your apprentice's side promptly and thoroughly, and sent Nestor off with his tail between his legs. Which did not sweeten his temper, or so I heard from one of the staff at Bourne's the next day."

Griffin let out a grunt. Charlus had mentioned a minor fuss, but that he'd done the thing right. Griffin would have to clarify that this was the sort of thing Charlus should report in detail, please, because the pattern mattered as well as whatever Charlus thought about it himself. "I'll talk to them both. Anything else?"

"Most of the rest is the same gossip as before, but more of it, and a bit sharper. Trying to find people who'll agree with him. He's having a hard time of that, even with people who don't like how decisions came out in the Yew courts. But he's found a few. Several parties you're unlikely to be invited to."

Griffin waved a hand. "They're the sort who host things up loads of stairs, had you ever noticed?" Then he sobered. "I'm sensitive to the political considerations, but there's not much I can do there directly. If people don't like my competence, I'm scarcely going to be incompetent to make them feel better. Even if I were inclined, my magic wouldn't permit."

Antimony raised an eyebrow. "Different oaths than Creon? He certainly fell into incompetence, poor man, and couldn't admit it."

"I don't know what he took. It's not an oath, exactly, it's feeling that my magic would betray me. I've contemplated making it formal with an oath, but it would set an uncomfortable precedent for anyone in the future, and you know how I feel about precedent setting."

Antimony snorted. "I do. You might have declaimed on the topic several times over tea. Anyway. Nestor's been worse. And there are people who notice that. On the other hand, he keeps the paperwork moving, and that keeps people with a lot of money and influence happy on the whole. And wanting to be in his favour. Though right now, I'm wondering how much of that is his clerks. He's had his seat what, seven years?"

"Seven and a half. About six months before I got back here," Griffin said.

"And he wasn't one of the potential Heirs before the War? Even though he's older?" Antimony turned her palm up. "You don't talk about how that's determined."

"The short answer is that it's Lamont's call. Or the Lord or Lady of Trellech's Justice, as it were, to give the full and proper title. Harriet and I already were. Horace died in 1919, and Lamont named Nestor later that year." Griffin shrugged. "We don't have a bloodline to go on. It's more about who might carry things forward. And no, I don't know why Lamont hasn't picked one of us." He hesitated, but Antimony was both a friend and trained in any number of pattern-spotting techniques. "He's given me some indications he's close to a choice. I don't know what he's told the others, if anything."

"I suppose you and Harriet don't compare notes." Antimony tapped her fingers on the wood of the desk. "I'd be curious about her take, honestly. I don't know her well. We've never had much overlap, but she seems competent."

"Competent, if sometimes more concerned by higher philosophy than I can justify," Griffin said, agreeably. "No, she and I get on well enough. Not close friends, but comfortable enough colleagues, if also competitors. Though really, that's the wrong way to think about the whole matter. It's not a competition. One of us can't win it by some unusual push to the end."

"Even if that's what you're doing, your new idea for a room." Antimony cocked her head, challenging that point.

Griffin considered. "I don't talk about it much. But there's a sense that I'm always having to be aware of not just what I'm doing, but how it looks. I was thinking about it in Whitby. Plenty of people are confused by someone who uses a chair who also uses crutches or canes. I know there was more than a bit of gossip - here, too - about whether I'm faking, or looking for sympathy. Or all the other parts of the nonsense, like whether it affected my head."

"I know you better than that. I've seen your work. Surely that ought to be enough for the people who know what's needed to judge. Nestor included."

Griffin shrugged. "It's not that simple. And the hell of it is, people have reason to be cautious. I was Cleon's successor. I know that better than most. And you saw plenty of that close-up. He ought to have properly retired at least three or four years before he did. Whatever the root of the problem was."

He let out a breath, slowly. "I am, it turns out, all for a system that evaluates everyone for fitness, regularly and also if specific concerns are raised. I am not in favour of a crowd that judges without information. And I am certainly not in favour of an approach that requires me to lay out my personal medical and magical information to all and sundry on demand." His mouth quirked up. "For one thing, most of them aren't qualified to evaluate it sensibly."

"Hence one of the reasons for staging the whole thing. Do you know more about when you'll be ready?" Antimony said, not touching the rest of it yet.

"Three weeks or so," Griffin said. "The current proposal is for Annice to assist along with one of the brand new apprentices, so there can be no question whose skills are in play. And of course, several people monitoring that particular aspect in detail. No chance to cheat, someone will catch it. Not that I would do that, naturally. It'd undermine my point."

"No wiggle room." Antimony considered. "Are you concerned about the work itself?"

"As much as is sensible, given that it's a new design, and I will be very much on stage. I am not that much of a showman, you know that. Am I sure it will work? Yes, so long as no one interferes." Now he grinned, the sort of grin that he got when he was hunting for the truth of something. "Of course, all the precautions against someone assisting me unannounced also make it near impossible for someone to sabotage the process from the outside. I haven't mentioned that, of course."

"Naturally not." Antimony chuckled. "Oh, well played, that part. Almost worth the rest of the fuss." She considered, then added, "It was frustrating for me, working with Cleon. I felt sorry for him. On his good days, he was still very sharp, and his understanding of precedent then was unsurpassed. But that's not a way to run things or keep the system going. And we need to keep that goal at the heart of everything. But it also seems unfair that you be held to different standards than everyone else. The Guards have fitness exams every year. I'm sure someone could work out adaptations easily enough."

"Oh, I've already got notes and proposals. Just haven't had the proper leverage to get them looked at. Lamont knows about them, and Gloriana and Christopher. I've not made a fuss otherwise."

Antimony tilted her head. "Are they at a stage where you could tell me more? I mean." She let out a huff of breath. "If you become Heir, what does that change?"

"That's an excellent question." Griffin could in fact talk this out and Antimony had enough experience of the Courts to understand, without being tangled in the same politics. "Lamont has been talking to me, one on one, more frequently. And I haven't exactly hid my priorities, what I think would help the Courts run more smoothly. There's no point. If he picks me, we need to work together until he retires. That means being honest now."

"And so you've floated your thoughts about what you'd do to avoid problems like Cleon. And to ensure people can't raise concerns about you without some actual cause." Antimony tapped her fingertips together.

"Exactly. But some people don't like that. And of course, there's all the other politics. Being Heir means being visible, in a particular way, that Nestor would very much like. Now, he'd also be good at a number of the administrative tasks. I do not deny that. But there are also ways where someone - as Heir, named as Heir - can angle things their way. Take personal meetings for things that would usually be delegated, so that you're the one holding the connections rather than the office."

"You've thought a lot about this." Antimony tilted her head. "You know many people. Especially here in Trellech itself. Don't deny it."

"I'm not." Griffin snorted. "Besides, Annice keeps pointing it out. But I know a lot of people in all sorts of walks of life. Shoemakers and theatre folk and apothecaries. The nice woman at the cafe on the corner, and people at the inn, and of course a lot of the Temple of Healing folks, and not just the Healers. Still plenty of people because of Dad's store. I mean, they saw me grow up."

"It's not a grasping sort of knowing, the way you do it. And with Nestor, there's that element." Antimony chewed on her lip. "With Nestor, I always wonder what he wants from me, what's going to even the balance on the books. With you - or watching you with other people - it's more about how to get something good for everyone. Especially watching you in the Court, with contentious cases."

"That's the place we need the most even-handed approach, don't you think? I mostly think it's pragmatic, though. If people keep fighting each other - even once the Court decides - it's going to keep hurting everyone in the net of relationships. If the Court can bring them to a resolution they understand, even if it's not the one they wish had been chosen, maybe everyone can get on with being connected still in a year or two." Griffin rubbed his nose. "Well, maybe more than two in some cases."

"The Rowleys," Antimony said. "And basically all the cases that also involve the criminal courts." She shrugged. "I see what you mean, though. And certainly, I approve of the aspiration. That is why we get on."

Griffin waved a hand. "If I get chosen as Heir, Nestor will, presumably, continue running the civil courts efficiently. I'll have a bit more leeway to make sure those under him are treated well."

"Where a bit means more than none." Antimony certainly understood the political limitations. "And he'll still agitate against you."

"Yes. But there's not much he can actually do, short of proving me incompetent. Which would take a lot of effort and evidence. With any luck, he'd settle down to spending his time on improvements to the system. And I'd support that. Even if it comes with more standing around at cocktail parties on his end than I'd choose. Not just because of the standing part."

"And you're not worried about his connections affecting the Courts?" Antimony asked. "I would be."

"Remember, we're under oaths to justice and truth in that form. There are limits - codified and tested over centuries - that restrict that. And we review those regularly to adapt."

"Huh. That's not something you all talk about much. What was a recent one, then? A change?" Antimony leaned back.

"Oh, how to handle ranks when people returned from the War. All of a sudden, we had a lot more people who had held rank as a Captain or Major, and the way the titles play into some oaths. But at the same time, those people were no longer acting in that rank. It took us a bit to sort out, but there's precedent for that kind of thing. We modelled it on the crossover to titles and social status in Britain, where it depends on whether that role is in play in the case in question."

"Huh." Antimony let out a long breath. "All right. You let me know what I can do to support you in your project. I'll tell you if there's particularly nasty or notable gossip. We'll get on with things and let Nestor sort himself out?"

"That," Griffin agreed. "It's the only sensible way to go forward."

She laughed and then stood up. "I'll let you get on with your other work. See you Friday for the morning case."

"Friday." Griffin dropped the warding, waited until the door closed behind her, then brought it back up again. He didn't much want to be bothered for a little, he needed to make some notes.