Dalton had been expecting that the Minister and his wife might grow weary of the people complaining, before the people grew weary of talking about the murder of a prominent woman from the estate. As a precaution, he already had laid plans; it looked as if he was to be forced into them.

His first choice would be to wait, for he knew the talk would soon die down and the whole matter would be forgotten, or at most people would occasionally click their tongues in passing sorrow and perhaps even titillation. But Bertrand liked to be seen as competent in his office. The toll on others was only a minor consideration to him. To Hildemara, it was irrelevant. Their impatience, however, was dangerous.

"I, as much as anyone, want the killers found," Dalton said. "However, as a man of the law, I am bound by my oath of office to be sure we find the true killers, and not simply accuse someone falsely just to see someone punished.

"I know you have sternly given me this very caution in the past," Dalton lied for any listening ears.

When he saw Hildemara about to object to any delay, Dalton added in a low, suddenly ill-humored tone, "Not only would it be wrong to be so hasty as to falsely accuse innocent men, but were we to rashly charge men with the crime, and after the sentence it turned out the Mother Confessor wished to take their confessions, and she found we had sentenced innocent men, our incompetence would be rightly denounced not only by the Mother Confessor, but the Sovereign and the Directors as well."

He wanted to make sure they fully grasped the risks involved.

"Worse, though, should we sentence men to death and carry out the executions before the Mother Confessor was allowed to review the case, she might interject herself in a way that could not only topple the government, but see top officials touched by her power as punishment."

Bertrand and Hildemara sat wide-eyed and silent after Dalton's quiet but sobering lecture.

"Of course, Dalton. Of course you're right." Bertrand's fingers fanned the air in a motion like a fish wriggling its fins to swim backward. "I didn't mean to give the impression I meant any such thing, of course.

"As Minister I cannot allow a person to be falsely accused. I wouldn't have such a thing happen. Not only would it be a terrible injustice to the ones falsely accused, but in so doing it would allow the real killers to thus escape to kill again."

"But that said"-a tone of threat returned to Hildemara's voice-"I think you must be close to naming the killers? I've heard such good things about your abilities that I suspect you are merely being thorough. Surely the Minister's chief aide will soon see justice done? The people will want to know the Minister of Culture is competent. He must be seen as effective in seeing this through to resolution."

"That's right," Bertrand said, eyeing his wife until she eased back into her seat. "We wish a just resolution."

"Added onto that," Hildemara said, "there is talk of a poor Haken girl recently being raped. Rumors are spreading rapidly about the rape. People think the two crimes are connected."

"I heard whispers of that, too," Teresa said. "It's just terrible."

Dalton might have guessed Hildemara would have found out about that and want it cleaned up, too. He had been prepared for that eventuality, as well, but hoped to skirt the issue if he could.

"A Haken girl? And who is to say she's telling the truth? Perhaps she is attempting to cover a pregnancy out of wedlock and is claiming rape so as to gain sympathy in a time of heightened passions."

Bertrand dragged a slice of pork through a small bowl of mustard. "No one has yet come forward with her name, but from what I've heard, it is believed to be genuine. People are still trying to discover her name so as to bring her before a magistrate."

Bertrand frowned with a meaningful look until he was sure Dalton understood that they were talking about the butcher's girl. "It is feared not only to be true, but to be the same ones who attacked Claudine. People fear the same criminals have now struck twice, and fear they will be striking again."

Bertrand tilted his head back and dropped the pork in his mouth. Stein, on the other side of Hildemara, watched the conversation with growing disdain as he ate crisped beef. He, of course, would solve the matter quickly with his blade. Dalton would, too, were it that simple.

"That is why," Hildemara said as she leaned in once more, "the crime must be solved. The people must know who is responsible." Having delivered the order, she straightened in her chair.

Bertrand squeezed Dalton's shoulder. "I know you, Dalton. I know you don't want to come out and say it until you have the whole crop sheafed, because you are too modest, but I know you have the crime solved and will soon announce the killers. And before people go to the trouble of hauling a poor Haken girl before a magistrate. After she has obviously already suffered in this, it would be a shame for her to suffer further humiliation."

They wouldn't know, but Dalton had already talked to Fitch to start the rock down the hill. He could see, though, that he was going to have to give it a push himself in a new direction.

Stein, over on the other side of Hildemara, tossed his bread on the table with disgust.

"This bread is burned!"

Dalton sighed. The man enjoyed his foolish outbursts. He was treacherous to ignore, lest, like a child, he do something to get attention. They had been leaving him out of the conversation.

"We had trouble of some sort with the ovens down in the kitchen," Dalton said. "If you don't like dark bread, cut off the burned crust."

"You have trouble with witches!" Stein roared. "And you talk about cutting off the crust? That is your solution?"

"We have trouble with ovens," Dalton said through gritted teeth as he cast a wary glance to the room to see if anyone was paying attention to the man. A few women, too far away to hear, were batting their lashes at him. "Probably a plugged flue run. We'll have it fixed tomorrow."

"Witches!" Stein repeated. "Witches have been casting spells to burn the bread here. Everyone knows that when there's a witch in the neighborhood she can't resist casting spells to burn bread."

"Dalton," Teresa whispered, "he knows about magic. Maybe he knows something we don't."

"He's a superstitious person, that's all." Dalton smiled at her. "Knowing Stein, he's playing a joke on us."

"I could help you find them." Stein tipped his chair back and began picking his nails with his knife. "I know about witches. It's probably witches that killed that woman, and raped the other. I'll find them for you, since you can't. I could use another scalp for my cape."

Dalton tossed his napkin on the table as he excused himself from Teresa. He rose, strode around the Minister and his wife, and leaned close to Stein's ear. The man stank.

"I have specific reasons for doing things the way I have them planned," Dalton whispered. "By doing it my way, we will get this horse to plow the field for us, pull our cart, and carry our water. If I simply wanted horse meat, I wouldn't need you; I'd butcher it myself.

"Since I have already warned you before to watch your words and you seem not to have understood, let me explain it again in a way you will understand."

Stein's grin showed his yellow teeth. Dalton leaned closer.

"This is a problem partly created by you and your inability to make gracious use of what is offered you freely. Instead, you saw fit to force a girl who wasn't offering or willing. I can't change what's done, but if you ever again speak out of turn in such a way as to cause a sensation, I will personally slit your throat and send you back to the emperor in a basket. I will ask him to send us someone with more brains than a rutting pig."