Free Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 by Mairelon the Magician (v5.0) Page B

there?"
                "You've
no proof that anyone--"
                "Don't
be a fool, Shoreham! Someone arranged things very cleverly to make it look as
if I were the one behind that theft. Someone very well informed. It was
sheerest luck that I ran into you that night, or you'd be as sure I'm guilty as
the rest of them."
                "All right, all right. But I still wish you'd let me
clear your name."
                "And
give whoever it is a reason to try again? No, thank you. Besides, as long as no
one knows who is really responsible, there will still be those who believe I
was behind it."
                "I
should think the word of the Earl of Shoreham will be enough to put an end to
such gossip," Shoreham said stiffly.
                Kim
swallowed an exclamation and pressed herself against the rear wall of the
wagon, wishing fervently that she had come out from behind the curtain as soon
as Mairelon opened the wagon door. Robbery and intrigue were things she
emphatically did not want to get mixed up in, particularly if there were Earls
involved, too. The gentry were even more trouble than toffs.
                Mairelon's
laugh had little humor to it. "Nothing stops gossip, Edward; you ought to
know that."
                "If
you would just--"
                "Let
it lie , Edward. What else do you have to tell me? I
assume you didn't come all this way just to look at the Saltash Bowl and warn
me that someone in the Ministry is too free with information."
                "You're
still determined to go through with this?"
                "Would I be here, like this, if I weren't?"
                "Oh, very well, then. We've finally traced the
platter."
                "And?" Mairelon's tone was eager.
                "It's
in the hands of one of those new druid cults."
                "Druid cults?"
                "There's
been a sort of half-baked revival going on for the past year or two. It's all
very fashionable--mistletoe and white robes under the new moon, with little
golden sickles for everyone." Lord Shoreham snorted. "Quackery,
all of it; no science at all. It's the sort of thing that gives
magicians a bad name."
                "Then
why did it take you this long to find the platter?"
                "This
group has one or two members who dabble a bit in real magic."
                "I
see."
                "They
call themselves Sons of the New Dawn, I believe," Lord Shoreham went on.
"They're located in Essex , near Suffolk ,
at a place called Ranton Hill."
                "I'm
familiar with the area. Edward, if I'm going to Essex ,
why in Heaven's name have you dragged me a day's trip
in the opposite direction?" Mairelon demanded.
                "To
try and keep unwelcome attention centered in this area. The platter's been
there for at least two years; there's no reason to hurry."
                "Mmmm. It'll take me at least two days to get there
now--"
                "Three,"
Lord Shoreham said blandly. "I'd rather you went around London instead of through it."
                "If you insist."
                "Under
the circumstances, I most certainly do."
                "Very well. Tell me about these druids, then."
                Kim heard
a sound like a sigh of resignation, then Lord
Shoreham's voice said, "There are only about ten members, mostly young men
in it for a lark. The three most likely to have the platter are Frederick
Meredith, Robert Choiniet, and Jonathan Aberford. I've brought a list of the
others."
                There was
a rustling noise as the paper changed hands. "That will do, I think,"
Mairelon said with some satisfaction. "I'll leave in the morning."
                Lord
Shoreham cleared his throat. "Ah, there is one other thing. How