The Devil in the Details

1. Pepperdine

"Did he really say that?"

It was ever the Fiend's way that he would query Deirdre about the things that she told him. His inquiries were never delivered in a hectoring or condescending way. His question now, as was his usual, was delivered in a tone that was interested and attentive. Most of the time, the Devil was a damn fine listener.

"Yes. I don't remember his exact words, but it was something like that." She continued in a mock voice, one affecting the chancellor's nasally drone. "Master the rules of the game until you can play it better than they can."

"Any hints on what that game might be?" asked the creature, who at that moment was in the form of Sir Alexis de Vere, the putative guardian of Deirdre and her friend Lady Isabel. As difficult as it might be to imagine, the creature in his true form was something far less savory even than a Gheet knight.

"You know full well." She wasn't certain whether the creature was serious or just having her on. "He was talking about politics."

"And court intrigues?"

"Most definitely."

No one was nearby, so the creature let slip one of his maniac giggles before getting ahold of himself. "You don't believe such twaddle, do you?"

How to answer that? Even after nearly a year as the Fiend's travelling companion, she still very much was learning his ways. In equal turns solemn and demented, the creature always seemed to surprise her. "We don't play by any rules," she said at last, "even though we always pretend to."

The creature smiled and went back to nibbling on the slice of onion bread he had been working on when she'd approached him. She and the Fiend, along with their friend Isabel, were in a small town some days travel north of the city of Westport where the Fiend's alter ego, Sir Alexis, was to oversee the arrival of troops and supplies for the royal army. "You are a wise young woman, Tuppence."

"Can he be trusted?"

"Chancellor Malotte? ... I should .... Well, what do you think?"

It was another few moments before she answered. Life had taught her to think and to weigh her words before blurting things out. "Everyone says the king trusts him. There just seems to be something ... mmm .... I dunno. There's something oily about him."

"Oily is a good word," the creature agreed. "Like so many, the chancellor fancies himself a power broker and the kind of fellow who gets what he wants ...."

"By manipulating the rules," she interjected.

"Yes, among other ways. Did you wonder at all why he's here in Pepperdine and not with the king or the army?"

"Nobody wants to be near war." That had seemed perfectly obvious to Deirdre. "Is there something else?"

"I'm not sure."

"Haven't you gotten your reading of the wind back?"

"Oh, it isn't that. The wind is fine. Reading the wind just isn't always useful in deducing what goes on in someone's head."

"So, is this Chancellor Malotte a friend or an enemy?" she asked.

"Most definitely an enemy, Tuppence. Everyone is our enemy ... or had you forgotten?"

"Okay, is he a friend or an enemy to Baron William and the king."

"That I'm not certain of ... though he most certainly wants everyone to believe he is the king's most loyal supporter. And the chap no doubt is an able administrator."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming," she said.

"Indeed. Men who make their bread and beans by machinations, especially those who keep the gears turning while men who hold the titles take their leisure, are often those who are hardest to trust."