The Land Across Read Online Free Page B

stockings and other such things. Trivialities. The gold of Eion Demarates none ever finds.”
    Martya muttered, “Or your ancestor does not think it.”
    “Correct. He searches the house, with police to help. They find nothing. There is no will. The brothers, the sisters, loudly say many times everything belongs to them. My ancestor says no, taxes are owed upon the estate. He sells the horses and carriage and other things, and holds the money against these taxes. He does not wish to sell the house because he believe the hidden money will soon be found. It is under a floor, eh? Or in a wall. He will wreck the house and find it.
    “Brothers and a sister journey to the capital. This judge will wreck our house, they say. You must stop him. The Prince Judicial issues an order: the house is not to be demolished.”
    “It’s still standing?” I asked.
    “It is. Some of the furniture has been sold. Some remains. It belongs to the state, that was decided when the taxes went unpaid. It has been rented more than once, long ago. People died there. No one will rent it.”
    Martya said, “You will rent it for us. You can get it most cheap.”
    “Legally,” I told her, “I’m your husband’s prisoner. I don’t want to go to jail.”
    Volitain nodded. “You must sleep in Kleon’s house, but you will rent the house I have told you of that you may repair it, rendering it a fit residence. Soon, you say to those who ask, the court will see that you are an innocent traveler. Then you will be released, and you must have this place to live until your passport is returned. It will be rented to you, and you and Martya will search, reporting to me what you have done.”
    My food was gone, but I sipped my wine. “Is a court looking into my case?”
    Volitain shook his head. “At present? No.”
    “Then I should get a lawyer. I don’t want to stay here forever.”
    “I will represent you.” At long last, Volitain forked a piece of his remaining meat roll into his mouth.
    “You’re a lawyer?”
    “He is many things.” Martya looked sour and serious. “That is why I brought you to him.”
    “An attorney, as other things,” Volitain told me. “I practice law for, oh, not quite three years. It bored me, and I did not require the money. I still represent a few friends and take cases of interest. Soon you ask why I do not search the Willows myself.”
    That sounded interesting. “The Willows?”
    “It is the name of the house Eion Demarates built. At the tax office, you must know it. Tell them you hear the Willows is without a tenant. You will rent, if it is cheap enough. Can you bargain?”
    I nodded. “Sure.”
    “Good. They will ask too much. Officials always do.”
    Martya said, “You are an official yourself, Volitain.”
    He wiped his lips to hide his smile. “A minor one, you understand. You need not be afraid of me.”
    “Can you get my passport back?”
    “No. Certainly not. If we win our case, then I might do something. Until then, it is hopeless. Do you think I intend to charge you?”
    I nodded again. “Lawyers do.”
    “I will not, provided you find the treasure and share it with me.”
    A waiter brought our check, parting the green curtain to push it through. Volitain laid it on the table, laid a bill on it, and weighted both with the salt shaker. “You see? I do not deceive.”
    “Thanks for lunch. Why don’t you search the Willows yourself?”
    He laughed. “That you would ask, I knew. First, because I must do many other things. Second, because already I have. For two months I searched whenever I had an hour to spare, but found nothing. A new searcher, one of foreign temperament, employing foreign methods, may succeed where I failed. Or so I hope.”

3
    THE WILLOWS
    Martya and I went to an office on the second floor of the long yellow brick building called the Mounted Guard, where a sweating fat man in shirtsleeves sat writing letters. “To those who are behind on their rent,” he explained.
    We