“Seeing how you have gone about this particular problem, I am no longer so worried. You have been mindful of resources, your own and other people’s. You have not rushed a decision or your actions. But you have also pressed when pressing was needed. You have made solid progress given the lack of ideal experts. And you have done so away from home and your usual habits and routines and resources. Being Heir - or Lord - rarely involves leaving Trellech. But it is necessary at times beyond the Council rites or various social gatherings. Demonstrating you can be as effective in Whitby as here in the Halls of Justice has some weight.”
That put a somewhat different twist on it than Griffin had been thinking. Enough of one that he was honest now, bringing part of it out in the open. “I assumed, sir, that more than one person thought I’d fail - that the hills or the stairs would make me take a tumble in pride, if not physically.”
“Oh, that’s also true.” Lamont’s smile was rather different now, someone waiting for someone else to step into a trap. Not Griffin, Griffin was fairly sure of that. Mostly. “I would, therefore, ask you to continue in your plans, in the way you see best. I will continue to ask you for explanations, as well as the written reports, but I am giving you your head. Make of it what you will.”
That put the whole thing in the proper context. Lamont had not created this challenge, but he would use it to refine his own plans. He could have taken this back from Griffin, and instead he was letting Griffin do it his way. It was up to Griffin to make the most of it. Griffin considered, making a couple of notes of things to prioritise, given that remit. “And the others? If there is opposition? I’m presuming you’d prefer me to handle it through the usual methods, and to let you know if that does not serve.”
“Oh, let me know either way, but yes, just so.” He glanced at Griffin’s notes. “Anything else, then?”
“May I draw on the resources of the Courts? Mistress Matthewman has noted that she doesn’t have training, but we suspect there’s some talismanic work at play, or that might be helpful. Someone with a focus on stones, gemstones of any kind, by preference. I know someone, but she’s a master of her art, and her fees match her skill.”
“Oh, I believe we can do something about that, yes. A moment.” He touched the bell on his desk. It didn’t ring in the office, but thirty seconds later, Griffin felt a shift in the warding of the space, and the door from the clerk’s office opened. “Sir?”
“Would you pull the contacts and standing profiles of the talisman workers we contract with, particularly anyone with a focus on gemstones? General pieces, not necessarily the courtroom settings, yes?” He added to Griffin, “Anyone on the list has my approval, usual rates. You had someone in mind, then?”
“Niobe Hall, sir, and I know she’s on your list, but I’d like options if she’s not available.” Griffin replied promptly. “I think taking a step back and looking at other approaches might be beneficial.”
There was a brief exchange, more gesture than sound, from Lamont to the clerk, and she disappeared. Griffin knew that would be ready before he left the building. Some messenger would be rounded up to bring it to his office. Once the door closed again, and the warding came back with it, Lamont considered. “I have not asked you, directly, what you want out of things here. Not for some years.”
“My answer has not changed much, sir.” Griffin wasn’t entirely sure why he was bringing this up now. But this was a more direct conversation about who should be Heir than Lamont had had with anyone in a good while. Or so Griffin was fairly sure, because he suspected Nestor wouldn’t have hid smugness at it, if he’d been in a similar one. “I love Trellech. I always have. And I find myself drawn in so many ways to the Courts. To the work of the courts, the ideal of justice and fairness and improving things for people who have need of that, properly. But also to the...” Now he ran out of any eloquence. “The shape of them. The spaces we make here, what that makes possible.”
“And Trellech? This is the first time you’ve been away for a while, hasn’t it?” Lamont leaned forward now.
“A few days, three times now, with my parents, up in Cambridgeshire. But no, not this long since the War.” Griffin thought about how it had felt, coming back through the portal. “Whitby is a beautiful town, with a lot to commend it, and also a lot of struggles. But coming back this morning, I was home and glad to be. And I will be glad to be back when my work in Whitby is done.” He let himself shrug. “It is unfashionable to love Trellech for herself, all her odd alleys and corners and ageing streets, but I do.”
Lamont leaned back. “I appreciate your answer, and the truth of it. But of course, I know your standards there, and you do not let them slip.” That was a particular bit of praise. And Lamont, of anyone, would indeed understand that.
Griffin let himself smile. “Of course, sir. Nothing but, here and now.”
“That was the last for the moment, and I’m sure you want to get back to Whitby before it gets too far into the evening. Can you wait for the profiles? I’ll also send down a few notes to go with you. It might be an hour?”
“Charlus made us a portal reservation for half-seven, after the evening crush.” Griffin said. “I was planning on being in my office until then, no point in going home so briefly.”
“Excellent. We’ll have that for you as promptly as possible. Let me know if there’s anything else that would assist in your project. The notes will include an expanded budget you can spend to, without additional approvals.” That was going to be excellent. Griffin had been as careful as any shopkeeper’s son should be about expenses, but having more to work with would be a help with additional experts. “A good evening, then.”
“And to you, sir.” Griffin nodded, waited for a return nod, and then smoothly released the brake. He backed up a little, and turned tightly to wheel himself to the door and open it.
Chapter22
MARCH 26TH IN WHITBY
As arranged, Annice turned up at Griffin’s cottage to find Charlus there, finishing up packing a day bag. He was wearing older clothes - so was Griffin, actually, and sturdy boots. Griffin waved a hand from the sofa. “If you don’t mind, Charlus thought he’d at least come down with us. If we don’t want him on the beach, he can lurk in the pub and be handy in case we need to find another carter.”
“Oh, no worries about the carter,” Annice said. “So long as he gets paid. It’s a friend of one of my cousins. I know his Mam well enough, and she put the fear of everything into him.”
“About leaving a cripple?” Griffin said it almost lightly, but there was a sharpness there.
“No. About giving up the coin for the return trip.” Annice knew Mrs Gerold would have none of that, not in her household. “He said he’d meet us at the pub. He’s got some other deliveries round those parts for the day.” Now she watched Griffin relax a little. That had been the right sort of answer. “And Charlus can come with us if you want.”
“It’s your call, it’s your information, your grandad, and all,” Griffin countered, and she saw how he must bargain when he actually did. He hadn’t with her, that was one thing that unsettled her. She was used to the customers, the tourists, not bargaining, but people in town did with each other all the time. She wondered what it would take for him to bargain with her, to treat her like an equal in that.
She shrugged, leaving the question for the moment. She could decide when they got through the portal to the pub. “Let me check what you’ve packed, all right? And how was your day in Trellech?” She asked the second part more out of politeness than anything.
Charlus opened up the bag he’d been packing. He had a wool cloak, two flasks, probably with tea, and a couple of pasties, though not with any shape or baker’s mark from around these parts. She nodded. “That’ll do. And a healing kit? Scrapes and bumps and whatever.” She didn’t say - she didn’t know how to ask - if Griffin needed anything specific.
It was then he spoke up behind her. “The conversation with Lamont was interesting, but he’s given me my head in solving this. And a larger budget to apply to the problem, which is an additional sign of trust.”
Charlus snorted. “Not that you spend for work without everything documented in triplicate.”
