Read What Distant Deeps for Free Online Page B

most people would have packed into that simple syllable. “I was wondering why I wasn’t finding more evidence of piracy. Our ally, the Principality of Palmyra, patrols the region and appears to do a very good job of it.”
    Her lip quirked in a wry smile. She said, “It would seem that they do a better job than dedicated anti-pirate squadrons in other regions, whether mounted by us or by the Alliance.”
    “Just for my curiosity, Mundy   .   .   .   ,” Mistress Sand said. Despite her attempt to seem casual, her eyes had narrowed slightly. “How do you determine the effectiveness of the patrols? Do you have Admiralty Court records in your computer?”
    Adele laughed. “I could get them from the database in Navy House,” she said. “Or for that matter from the duplicate set that the Ministry of Justice is supposed to keep. I doubt if they’d tell me much, though. Our own patrols are rumored to take shortcuts when dealing with pirates, and the Palmyrenes certainly do.”
    She met Sand’s eyes for the first time since she’d brought up her data unit. “It’s much simpler,” she said with a cold grin, “to check insurance rates for the region. They’re as low as those for the Cinnabar-Blanchefleur route.”
    Sand laughed ruefully. “Rather than say, ‘Oh, that’s simple,’ I’ll note that the mind which went directly to that source wasn’t simple at all,” she said. “And yes, Palmyra has nominally been a Cinnabar ally for several generations, though that’s basically been a matter of the Autocrators choosing a policy which is in keeping with the aims of the Republic. Palmyra has become a major trading power—the trading power in its region, certainly—and has put down piracy for its own ends.”
    Adele collapsed her holographic display to meet the spymaster’s eyes directly. “Is Palmyra my objective, mistress?” she said.
    Sand placed her hands palm-down on the scarred leather tabletop and laughed. “You’ve just demonstrated the limits of logic, Mundy,” she said. “You know there’s a reason I’d be asking you to go to the Qaboosh Region, and the only thing of even moderate significance in the region is the Principality of Palmyra, on whose intentions you’ve noticed that my information is strikingly scanty. Not so?”
    “You’re correct,” Adele said with clipped tones. The humor of it struck her. She didn’t laugh, but her lips formed a self-mocking grin.
    “Arrogance is the claim of greater power, here in the form of knowledge, than one actually has,” she said. “You’re quite right to bring me up short when I display arrogance.”
    Sand looked at her in appraisal. “Sorry, Mundy,” she said. “You give me too much credit: I was priding myself on having finally beaten someone who regularly runs circles around me. And it was a trick, because there was no way you would have known that Guarantor Porra’s favorite of the past three years was Lady Posthuma Belisande.”
    Adele’s smile reformed itself into tight, triumphant lines. Her display sprang to life.
    “A relative of the present Founder of Zenobia,” she said. Her wands flickered further. “The younger sister of Founder Hergo Belisande, twenty-four standard years old. Called Posy, although I don’t know when that datum was gathered. It might be embarrassing to greet the lady by a nickname she’d last heard when she was eight.”
    Adele shrank her display again. She said, “You said Belisande was, rather than that she has been, Porra’s mistress for the past three years. The relationship has ended?”
    “So we understand,” said Mistress Sand. “Officially the lady is visiting relatives on Zenobia, but it’s generally understood that she isn’t expected to return. That she’s expected not to return, in fact—though some of that may be put around by rivals.”
    Adele’s eyes narrowed. “Do you expect her to confide in me?” she said, trying to restrain the irritation that threatened to sharpen