By mutual if unspoken agreement, he and Rathe were both avoiding places where they were known individually, which left them mostly northriver places like this one. It was pleasant enough, occupied in the early evening primarily by clerks from the counting houses and factors’ offices along the Mercandry. The prices were correspondingly higher, but it was worth it for the anonymity. No one here had cause to remember either Caiazzo’s knife or the Adjunct Point at Point of Hopes. He bespoke two plates of the night’s ordinary, telling the waiter not to serve until his guest arrived, and turned his attention to the broadsheets. He’d bought a weekly almanac as well as a more personal sheet, and scanned it quickly, noting the positions of the major planets. The sun was in the Charioteer, and solidly aspected; the astrologer predicted quiet days and soft weather, plenty of time for the harvest and the last short-range trading ventures before winter closed the roads. His solar horoscope was equally benign, though he noted with a wry grin that the moon was in the Sea-bull, house of passion and illicit relationships.
