The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第52部分

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t　and
laid　in　a　course　for　Menizerre。　Soon　we　were　cruising　south…west　over　the　forest　tracts　and　the　verdant　cultivated　belt　outside　Dorsay
and　leaving　the　Insume　headland　behind。
In　the　comfortable；　climate…controlled　rear　cabin　of　the　staff　car；　I　told　Alizebeth　about　Froigre。
'There　have　been　Froigres　on　Gudrun　since　the　days　of　the　first　colonies。　Their　house　is　one　of　the　Twenty…Six　Venerables；　that　is　to
say　one　of　the　twenty…six　original　noble　fiefs；　and　as　such　has　an　hereditary　seat　in　the　Upper　Legislature　of　the　planetary　government。
Other；　newer　houses　have　considerably　more　power　and　land　these　days；　but　nothing　can　quite　eclipse　the　prestige　of　the　Venerables。
Houses　like　Froigre；　Sangral；　Meissian。　And　Glaw。'
She　smiled　impishly　at　my　inclusion　of　that　last　name。
'So…　power；　land；　prestige…　a　honeytrap　for　rivals　and　enemies。　Did　your　friend　have　any？'
I　shrugged。　I'd　brought　with　me　several　data…slates　Psullus　had　looked　out　for　me　from　the　library。　They　contained　heraldic　ledgers；
family　histories；　biographies　and　memoirs。　And　very　little　that　seemed　pertinent。
'House　Froigre　vied　with　House　Athensae　and　House　Brudish　in　the　early　years　of　Gudrun；　but　that's　literally　ancient　history。　Besides；
House　Brudish　became　extinct　after　another　feud　with　House　Pariti　eight　hundred　years　ago。　Aen's　grandfather　famously　clashed　with
Lord　Sangral　and　the　then　Governor　Lord　Dougray　over　the　introduction　of　Founding　Levy　in　the　one…nineties；　but　that　was　just
political；　though　Dougray　never　forgave　him　and　later　snubbed　him　by　making　Richtien　chancellor。　In　recent　times；　House　Froigre　has
been　very　much　a　quiet；　solid；　traditional　seat　in　the　Legislature。　No　feuds；　that　I　know　of。　In　fact；　there　hasn't　been　an　inter…house　war
on　Gudrun　for　seven　generations。
'They　all　play　nicely　together；　these　days；　do　they？'　she　asked。
'Pretty　much。　One　of　the　things　I　like　about　Gudrun　is　that　it　is　so　damned　civilised。'
'Too　damned　civilised；'　she　admonished。　'One　day；　Gregor；　one　day　this　place　will　lull　you　into　such　a　deep　sense　of　tranquil　seclusion
that　you'll　be　caught　with　your　pants　down。'

'I　hardly　think　so。　It's　not　complacency；　before　you　jump　down　my　throat。　Gudrun　…　Spaeton　House　itself　…　is　just　a　safe　place。　A
sanctuary；　given　my　line　of　work。'
'Your　friend's　still　dead；'　she　reminded　me。
I　sat　back。　'He　liked　to　live　well。　Good　food；　fine　wines。　He　could　drink　Nayl　under　the　table。'
'No！'
'I'm　not　joking。　Five　years　ago；　at　the　wedding　of　Aen's　daughter。　I　was　invited　and　I　took　Harlon　along　as…　as　I　don't　know　what；
actually。　You　weren't　around　and　I　didn't　want　to　go　alone。　Harlon　started　bending　his　lordship's　ear　with　tales　of　bounty　hunting　and
the　last　I　saw　of　them　they　were　sprinting　their　way　down　their　fourth　bottle　of　anise　at　five　in　the　morning。　Aen　was　up　at　nine　the
next　day　to　see　his　daughter　off。　Nayl　was　still　asleep　at　nine　the　following　day。'
She　grinned。　'So　a　life　of　great　appetites　may　have　just　caught　up　with　him？'
'Perhaps。　Though　you'd　think　that　would　have　shown　up　on　the　medicae　mortus's　report。'
'So　you　do　suspect　foul　play？'
'I　can't　shake　that　idea。'
I　was　silent　for　a　few　minutes；　and　Alizebeth　scrolled　her　way　through　several　of　the　slates。
'House　Froigre's　main　income　was　from　mercantile　dealings。　They　hold　a　twelve　point　stock　in　Brade　ent　Cie　and　a　fifteen　per　cent
share　in　Helican　SubSid　Shipping。　What　about　trade　rivals？'
'We'd　have　to　expand　our　scope　off…planet。　I　suppose　assassination　is　possible；　but　that's　a　strange　way　to　hit　back　at　a　trade　rival。　I'll
have　to　examine　their　records。　If　we　can　turn　up　signs　of　a　clandestine　trade　fight；　then　maybe　assassination　is　the　answer。'
'Your　friend　spoke　out　against　the　Ophidian　Campaign。'
'So　did　his　father。　Neither　believed　it　was　appropriate　to　divert　funds　and　manpower　into　a　war　of　reconquest　in　the　subsector　next
door　when　there　was　so　much　to　put　in　order　on　the　home　front。'
'I　was　just　wondering…'　she　said。
'Wonder　away；　but　I　think　that's　a　dead　end。　The　Ophidian　War's　long　since　over　and　done　with　and　I　don't　think　anyone　cares　what
Aen　thought　about　it。'
'So　have　you　got　a　theory？'
'Only　the　obvious　ones。　None　of　them　with　any　substantiating　data。　An　internecine　feud；　targeting　Aen　from　inside　the　family。　A
murder　driven　by　some　secret　affair　of　the　heart。　A　darker　conspiracy　that　remains　quite　invisible　for　now。　Or…'
'Or？'
'Too　much　good　living；　in　which　case　we'll　be　home　before　nightfall。'
FROIGRE　HALL；　THE　ancestral　pile　of　the　noble　House　Froigre；　was　a　splendid　stack　of　ivy…swathed　ouslite　and　copper　tiles
overlooking　the　Vale　of　Fiegg；　ten　kilometres　south　of　Menizerre。　Water　meadows　sloped　back　from　the　river；　becoming　wildflower
pastures　that　climbed　through　spinneys　of　larch　and　fintle　to　hem　the　magnificent　planned　gardens　of　the　house；　geometric　designs　of
box…hedge；　trim　lawn；　flowering　beds　and　symmetrical　ponds。　Beyond　the　sandy　drive；　darkened　woods　came　right　down　to　skirt　the
back　of　the　great　hall；　except　for　where　a　near…perfect　sulleq　lawn　had　been　laid。　Aen　and　I　had　spent　several　diverting　afternoons
there；　playing　against　each　other。　A　kilometre　north　of　the　house；　the　gnarled　stone　finger　of　the　Folly　rose　from　the　ascending　woods。
'Where　to　put　down；　sir？'　Gabon　asked　over　the　intercom。
'On　the　drive　in　front　of　the　portico；　if　you'd　be　so　kind。'
'What's　been　going　on　here？'　Alizebeth　asked　as　we　came　in　lower。　She　pointed。　The　lawn　areas　nearest　to　the　hall　were　littered　with
scraps　of　rubbish　…　paper　waste　and　glittery　bits　of　foil。　Some　sections　of　grass　were　flat　and　yellow　as　if　compressed　and　starved　of
light。
Tiny　stones；　whipped　up　by　our　downwash；　ticked　off　the　car's　bodywork　as　we　settled　in　to　land。
'OH；　MY　DEAR　Gregor！'　Lady　Freyl　Froigre　almost　fell　into　my　arms。　I　held　her　in　a　comforting　embrace　for　a　few　patient　moments　as
she　sobbed　against　my　chest。
'Forgive　me！'　she　said　suddenly；　pulling　away　and　dabbing　her　eyes　with　a　black　lace　handkerchief。　'This　is　all　so　very　terrible。　So
very；　very　terrible。'
'My　deepest　sympathies　for　your　loss；　lady；'　I　said；　feeling　awkward。
A　houseman；　his　arm　banded　in　black；　had　led　us　into　a　stateroom　off　the　main　hall　where　Lady　Froigre　was　waiting。　The　blinds　were
drawn；　and　mourning　tapers　had　been　lit；　filling　the　air　with　a　feeble　light　and　a　sickly　perfume。　Freyl　Froigre　was　a　stunning　woman
in　her　late　sixties；　her　lush　red　hair；　almost　flame…pink　it　was　so　bright；　pulled　back　and　pinned　down　under　a　veil　coiff　of　jet
scamiscoire。　Her　grief…gown　was　slate　epinchire；　the　sleeves　ending　in　delicate　interwoven　gloves　so　that　not　one　speck　of　her　flesh
was　uncovered。
I　introduced　Alizebeth；　who　murmured　her　condolences；　and　Lady　Froigre　nodded。　Then　she　suddenly　looked　flustered。
'Oh；　my。　Where　are　my　manners？　I　should　have　the　staff　bring　refreshments　for　you　and—'
'Hush；　lady；'　I　said；　taking　her　arm　and　walking　her　down　the　long　room　into　the　soft　shade　of　the　shutters。　'You　have　enough　on　your
mind。　Grief　is　enough。　Tell　me　what　you　know　and　I　will　do　the　rest。'
'You're　a　good　man；　sir。　I　knew　I　could　trust　you。'　She　paused　and　waited　while　her　current　wracks　subsided。
'Aen　died　just　before　midnight　last　night。　A　seizure。　It　was　quick；　the　physician　said。'
'What　else　did　he　say；　lady？'

She　drew　a　data…wand　from　her　sleeve　and　handed　it　to　me。　'It's　all　here。'　I　plucked　out　my　slate　and　plugged　it　in。　The　display　lit　up
with　the　stored　files。
Death　by　tremorous　palpitations　of　the　heart　and　mind。　A　dysfunction　of　the　spirit。　According　the　the　medicae's　report；　Aen　Froigre
had　died　because　of　a　spasm　in　his　anima。
'This　means…'　I　paused；　'…nothing。　Who　is　your　physician？'
'Genorus　Notil　of　Menizerre。　He　has　been　the　family　medicae　since　the　time　of　Aen's　grandfather。'
'His　report　is　rather…　non…specific；　lady。　Could　I　present　the　body　for　a　further　examination？'
'I've　already　done　that；'　she　said　softly。　'The　surgeon　at　Menizerre　General　who　attended　said　the　same。　My　husband　died　of　terror。'
'Terror？'
'Yes；　inquisitor。　Now　tell　me　that　isn't　the　work　of　the　infernal　powers？'
There　had；　she　told　me；　been　a　celebration。　A　Grand　Fete。　Aen's　eldest　son；　Rinton；　had　returned　home　two　weeks　before；　having
mustered　out　of　his　service　in　the　Imperial　Guard。　Rinton　Froigre　had　been　a　captain　in　the　Fiftieth　Gudrunite　and　seen　six　years'
service　in　the　Ophidean　subsector。　Such　was　his　father's　delight　on　his　return；　a　fete　was　called。　A　carnival　feast。　Travelling　players
from　all　around　the　canton　had　attended；　along　with　troupes　of　musicians；　acrobats；　armies　of　stall　holders；　entertainers；　and　hundreds
of　folk　from　the　town。　That　explained　the　litter　and　faded　patches　on　the　lawn。　Tent　pitches。　The　scars　of　marques。
'Had　he　any　enemies？'　I　asked；　pacing　the　shuttered　room。
'None　that　I　know　of。'
'I　would　like　to　review　his　correspondence。　Diaries　too；　if　he　kept　them。'
'I'll　see。　I　don't　believe　he　kept　a　diary；　but　our　rubricator　will　have　a　list　of　correspondence。'
On　the　top　of　the　harpsichord　was　a　framed　portrait；　a　hololith　of　Aen　Froigre；　smiling。
I　picked　it　up　and　studied　it。
'The　last　portrait　of　him；'　she　said。　'Taken　at　the　fete。　My　last　connection　with　him。'
'Where　did　he　die？'
'The　Folly；'　said　Lady　Froigre。　'He　died　in　the　Folly。'
THE　WOODS　WERE　damp　and　dark。　Boughs　creaked　in　the　late　afternoon　wind　and　odd　birdsong　thrilled　from　the　shadows。
The　Folly　was　a　stone　drum　capped　by　a　slate　needle。　Inside；　it　was　bare　and　terribly　musty。　Sand　doves　fluttered　up　in　the　roof　spaces。
Cobwebs　glazed　the　bare　windows。
'This　is　where　I　found　him；'　said　a　voice　from　behind　me。
I　turned。　Rinton　Froigre　stooped　in　under　the　doorframe。　He　was　a　well…made　boy　of　twenty…five；　with　his　mother's　lush　red　hair。　His
eyes　had　a　curious；　hooded　aspect。
'Rinton。'
'Sir；'　he　bowed　slightly。
'Was　he　dead　when　you　found　him？'
'No；　inquisitor。　He　was　laughing　and　talking。　He　liked　to　come　up　here。　He　loved　the　Folly。　I　came　up　to　thank　him　for　the　fete　that　he
had　thrown　in　my　honour。　We　were　talking　together　when　suddenly　he　went　into　convulsions。　Just　minutes　later；　before　I　could
summon　help；　he　was　dead。'
I　didn't　know　Rinton　Froigre　well；　though　his　service　record　was　very　respectable；　and　I　knew　his　father　had　been　proud　of　him。　Aen
had　never　mentioned　any　animosity　from　his　son；　but　in　any　noble　house　there　is　always　the　spectre　of　succession　to　consider。　Rinton
had　been　alone　with　his　father　at　the　time　of　death。　He　was　a　seasoned　soldier；　undoubtedly　no　stranger　to　the　act　of　killing。
I　kept　an　open　mind　…　literally。　Even　without　any　invasive　mental　probing；　it　is　possible　for　a　psionic　of　my　ability　to　sense　surface
thoughts。　There　was　no　flavour　of　deceit　about　Rinton's　person；　though　I　could　feel　carefully　contained　loss；　and　the　tingle　of
trepidation。　Small　wonder；　I　considered。　Uncommon　are　the　citizens　of　the　Imperium　who　do　not　register　anxiety　at　being　quizzed　by
an　inquisitor　of　the　Holy　Ordos。
There　was　no　point　pressing　him　now。　Rinton's　story　might　easily　be　put　to　the　test　with　an　auto…seance；　during　which　psychometric
techniques　would　simply　reveal　the　truth　of　his　father's　last　moments　to　me。
Rinton　walked　me　back　to　th