Alistair did not sleep.
He had not expected to, since the lamp on the table was the only honest thing left in the room, and he let it burn through the night.
Partly, he wanted the inn keeper to wonder why the east corner room on the third floor kept a flame going at three in the morning, and partly he had nothing to gain from lying in the dark thinking about Aldous Blackwood.
So he sat in the chair, and he looked at the lamp for a long time.
Aldous Blackwood was the High Justicar. He stood at the top of the Upholders of Law and Justice, the man who set the audits, the man Alistair had spoken to twice in his life and walked out on the day he abandoned them entirely.
By the Upholders' own records, Aldous never left Constance for anything less than a continental matter. He had not been seen east of Constance in eleven years.
And yet, he was three weeks away.
That was what the Sovereign Record had said. That was what Due's people had said, and what Sable's people had confirmed.
