Exodus from the Long Sun

Chapter 2 — His Name Is Hossaan

He himself had shut this door from inside and shot the bolt; it had been the final action of his exorcism. But if this door (the obscure side door of what had been a manteion, and what many passers-by no doubt assumed was a manteion still) was used to admit patrons who did not want to be seen entering Orchid’s, there should be someone to answer his knock. By summer habit, he squinted up to gauge the width of the narrowing sun; it was masked by clouds dark with rain or snow, and the awe-inspiring mummy-colored bulk of the Trivigaunti airship.

He knocked again. His bearers had put down the litter and were making themselves comfortable. Did he dare risk their seeing him pound on a door to which nobody came? What would Commissioner Newt have to say about the effect on his prestige and popularity? What would Oosik say? Would it replace the fighting as the talk of the city?

He was smiling at the thought when the door was opened by a small and markedly unattractive woman with a faded rag over her graying hair. “Come — uh. It ain’t any more, Patera.”

“I am Orchid’s spiritual advisor,” Silk told her firmly. “Admit me.” The woman backed away; he stepped inside and bolted the door behind him. “Take me to her.”

“I’m cleaning up in here.” She eyed Oreb with disfavor.

Silk conceded privately that the former manteion could use a cleaning. He glanced up at the stage to see whether the new backdrop was as blasphemous as the one he had cut down, and was illogically pleased to find that it was merely obscene.

“She’ll be in her room. She might not be up yet.”

“Take me to her,” he repeated, and added, “At once!”

“I won’t knock.” The small woman sounded frightened.

“Never mind. I remember the way.” He pushed past her and strode across the former manteion with scarcely a twinge from his ankle. Here was the step on which he had sat to talk to Musk. Musk was dead now. The memory of Musk’s tortured face returned.

The courtyard beyond the manteion was deserted but by no means empty, littered with scraps of food over which crows and pigeons squabbled, spilled liquors, bottles, and broken glass. Oreb, bigger than the biggest crow, watched fascinated, cocking his head this way and that.

Orpine’s naked corpse had sprawled on this wooden stair. There was no point in looking for bloodstains today, or in trying not to step on such stains as might be present. Silk climbed, his eyes resolutely fixed on the gallery above.

What faith he’d had then! That Silk would be praying now, as confident as a child that the gods heard each word, a prayer to Molpe as patroness of the day, and one to Pas, who was as dead as Crane, Orpine, and Musk. Most of all, that earlier Silk would have prayed devoutly to the Outsider, though the Outsider had warned that he would send no aid.

Yet the Outsider had come with healing when he had lain near death. And to be more accurate (Silk paused at the top of the steps, remembering) the Outsider had not actually said that he would get no help, but warned him to expect none — which was not precisely the same thing.

Buoyed by the thought, he walked along the creaking gallery to the door that Crane had opened when he came out to examine Orpine’s body, and was about to open it himself when it was opened from within.

He blinked, gasped, and blinked again. Oreb, whom few things surprised, whistled before croaking, “Lo, girl.”

“Hi, Oreb. Hello, Patera. All the blessings on you this afternoon and all that.”

Silk smiled, finding it easier than he had expected; there was nothing to be gained by berating her, surely. “Chenille, it’s good to see you. I’ve been wondering where you were. I have people searching for you and Auk.”

“You thought I was finished with this.” The expression of her coarse, flat-cheeked face was by no means easy to read, but she sounded despondent.

“I hoped you were,” Silk said carefully. “I still hope you are — that last night was the last night.” If the gods did not care, why should he? He thrust the thought aside.

“Nobody last night, Patera. There wasn’t enough to keep the other dells busy. You’re thinking how about rust, aren’t you? I can tell from the way you look at me. Not since the funeral. Come on in.” She stepped back.

He entered, careful not to brush her jutting breasts.

“Now you’re wondering how long it’ll last. Me too. You didn’t know I was a regular mind reader, did you?” She srniled, and the smile made him want to put his arms around her.

He nodded instead. “You’re very perceptive. I was.”

Oreb felt he had been left out long enough. “Where Auk?”

“I don’t know. You want to come to my room, Patera? You can sit, and we could talk like we did that other time.”

“I must speak to Orchid — but if you wish it.”

“We don’t have to. Come on, she’s probably about dressed. Her room’s up this way.” Chenille led him along a corridor he recalled only vaguely. “Maybe I could come by tomorrow to talk? Only you’re not at the place on Sun Street anymore, are you?”

“No,” Silk said, “but I’m going there when I leave here. Would you like to come?” When Chenille did not reply, he added, “I have a litter; I’ve been trying to spare my ankle.”

She was shocked. “You can’t let people see me with you!”

“We’ll put the curtains down.”

“Then we could talk in there, huh? All right.”

Silk, too, had come to a decision. “I’d like to have you with me when I speak to Orchid. Will you do it?”

“Sure, if you want me.” She stopped before Orchid’s door. “Only I hope you’re not going to get her mad.”

Recalling the small woman’s fear, Silk knocked. “Were you leaving just now, Chenille? We can arrange to meet later, if this is inconvenient.”

She shook her head. “I saw you out my window and put this gown on, that’s all.”

Orchid’s door had opened. Orchid, in a black peignoir that reminded Silk vividly of the pink one she had worn when she had admitted him with Crane, was staring open mouthed.

He tore his own gaze from her gaping garment. “May I speak with you when you’ve finished dressing, Orchid? It’s urgent; I wouldn’t have troubled you otherwise.”

Numbly, the fat woman retreated.

“Come on, Patera.” Chenille led the way in. “She can put on a, you know, more of a wrap-up.” To Orchid she added, “He’s gimp, remember? Maybe you could invite him to sit.”

Orchid had recovered enough to tug at the lace-decked edges of the peignoir, covering bulging flesh that would reappear the moment she released them. “I — you’re the calde now. The new one. Everybody’s talking about you.”

Oreb offered proof. “Say Silk!”

“I’m afraid I am. I’m still the same man, however, and I need your help.”

Chenille said firmly. “Have a seat, Patera.”

“Yeah, sit down. Do I call you Calde or Patera?”

“I really prefer to stand as long as you and Chenille are standing. May I say it’s pleasant to see you again? Pleasant to see you both. I’ve been looking for Chenille, as I told her, and I’ve met so many new people — commissioners at the Juzgado and so forth — that you seem like old friends.”

“Good friends.” Chenille dropped onto the green-velvet couch. “I’ll never forget how you stood up to the councillors at Blood’s.” She turned to Orchid. “I told you about it, right?”

“Yeah, but I never thought I’d see you again, Calde. I mean to talk to.”

He grasped the opportunity. “You saw me when Hyacinth and I were riding through the city, and we saw you. Have you seen Hyacinth since then?”

Orchid shook her head as she sat down beside Chenille.

Gratefully, Silk sat too. “I mean her no harm — none whatsoever. I merely wish to find her.”

“I’m sure you don’t, Calde. I’d tell you if knew.”

Chenille said, “You’re going to ask me in a minute. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I saw Hy. A couple months. Maybe longer than that.”

“No girl?” Oreb inquired.

Silk looked around at him. “Chenille is only one of the people we’ve been trying to find, actually. Now I’m hoping to find out something about the others.”

“I’ll call you Calde,” Orchid announced. “It feels easier. A hoppy was here asking about Hy. Did you know that?”

“I sent him, indirectly at least.”

“He wanted to know about Chen, too. And Auk.” Orchid glanced at Chenille, afraid that she was revealing too much.

“But you told him nothing. I can’t blame you. In your place I would probably have done the same.”

Orchid struggled to her feet. “I’m forgetting my manners. Maybe you’d like a glass of wine? I remember that time when you said you were sorry you only had water, but water was what I wanted right then. You got some for me, and good water too. You’ve got a good well.”

“No wine, thank you. You told the Guardsman who came here that you didn’t know where Hyacinth, or Chenille, or Auk was. I know you must have, because any information you provided him would have been reported to me, with its source. As I said, I would very likely have acted just as you did, if I had been in your place. This afternoon it occurred to me that you might tell me more than you’d tell someone you didn’t know or trust, so I came in person. I take it that Chenille was already here when he arrived to question you. Was that yesterday?”

Orchid nodded. Chenille said, “It’s my fault, Patera. I asked her not to tell anybody.” For perhaps five seconds she was silent, nibbling at her lower lip. “Because of that other man. You know who I mean, Patera? He was at Blood’s, too, and he didn’t get shot like the fat one. The tall one. He saw me, and he heard my name.”

Silk’s forefinger drew small circles on his cheek. “Do you think he knew enough about you to search for you here?”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried to remember everything Blood said, and I don’t remember anything about that. Only he might have said something before or after or maybe even something I’ve forgotten. He’d seen me, and knew who I was.”

“In that case,” Silk said slowly, “I’m surprised that you came back here.”

Orchid poured a pony of brandy. “It isn’t as dumb as you think, Calde. If somebody came around, we’d tell her so she’d have time to hide. We did with the hoppy, didn’t we, Chen?”

“That’s right, Patera. Anyhow I pretty much had to. I didn’t have any money—”

“I must speak to you about that; remind me after we leave.”

“Except a little here, and my jewelry’s here, except for this ring.” She held up her hand to display it, and the ruby glowed like a coal from the forge. “I think it’s worth a deck, and so does Orchid.”

Orchid nodded emphatically.

“Only Auk gave it to me, and I told him I’d never sell it. I won’t, either. Remember when you and me talked in the front room of your little house, Patera?”

“Yes, I do. I’m surprised that you do, however.”

“I didn’t to start, but after a while it came back. What I was going to say is I had my best pieces on, my jade earrings and the necklace, only it got lost when my good wool gown did.”

Silk nodded. “Patera Incus said Maytera Marble had made Blood give you the chenille one you had on there.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll tell you about losing the other one and my necklace some other time. What I was going to say is they hurt my ears, down in the tunnel. I took them off and gave them to Auk, and he put them in his pocket.” She fell silent, her chest heaving dramatically.

“When I find Auk, I’ll remind him to return them to you.”

“There’s something I’ve got to tell you about him, too. You won’t believe me, but I’ve got to tell you just the same. Only not now.”

“All right. Tell me when you feel ready to do so.” Silk turned back to Orchid. “Permit me to ask again. Do you know where Hyacinth is? Do you have any idea at all?”

Shaking her head, Orchid passed her brandy to Chenille. “Drink it, you’ll feel better.” Freed of the stem, Orchid’s beringed fingers clenched. “Patera, I need a favor and I need it bad. Ever since I saw you in the hall I’ve been trying to think of a good way to ask. If I knew anything that would help you find Hy, I’d tell you and ask for my favor. I don’t, but I got connections and they know places the hoppies never heard of I’ll get them on it as quick as I can.”

Oreb flew from Silk’s shoulder to Chenille’s. “Where Auk?”

“My question exactly,” Silk said. “You told the Guardsman you didn’t know where Hyacinth was, and you were telling him the truth. You lied when you told him that you didn’t know where Chenille was. What about Auk?”

Orchid shook her head. “I’ve got a couple culls asking. He’s got Chen’s bobbers, like she says. We know he’s around. We’ve talked to bucks that saw him. Isn’t that right?”

Chenille nodded.

“But nobody seems to know where he dosses. A friend of mine told him I wanted to see him, and he said maybe he’d come later, but he hasn’t.” Orchid tapped her forehead. “He’s cank, they say. Talking clutter.”

“Let me know if he comes, will you please? Immediately.”

“Absolutely, Calde. You can count on it. Want me to keep him here until you get here?”

“He’ll stay,” Chenille interposed. “He’ll be in my room.”

“Yes, I do,” Silk told Orchid. “You’ve offered me several favors, and I want them all. I want very much to learn where Hyacinth is. I want to learn where Auk is, too, and I want you to keep him here if he comes. He used to come here often, I know. You said you required a favor from me. I’ll help you if I can. What is it?”

“Blood’s dead. That’s what Chen says, and it’s all over town anyhow. They say — am I stepping in it?”

Chenille swallowed a sip of brandy. “They say you killed him, Patera. Thats what some people told me out at his house before the fighting was over.”

Orchid took a step toward Silk. “I own this.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “This house of mine. But I bought it with money Blood gave me, and I had to sign a paper.”

Belatedly, Silk rose too. “What did it say?”

“I don’t know. It was at his place in the country. Once in a while he’d come to town and see people, but mostly he sent word and you went out there to see him. If he liked you, he’d send his floater for you. That was the first time in my life I got to ride in one.”

Recalling his trip from Blood’s villa to the manteion on Sun Street, Silk nodded. “Go on.”

“We talked about, you know, what sort of house I’d found, where it was and how big and the girls I’d got lined up. Then he pulled out a paper and said sign this. I did, and he stuck it away again and gave me the money. I got the deed, and it’s in my name, but now he’s dead and I don’t know about the paper. I want to keep my house. It would kill me to lose it. That’s lily. With him gone, I don’t know where I stand, but I’d feel a lot better knowing I had the calde in my corner.”

“He is.” Silk started toward the door. “You have my word, Orchid; but I must go — we must, if Chenille’s coming.”

“I’ve got to get my coat.” She was already on her feet. “Your litter’s around back? On Music? I’ll meet you.”

As he rattled down the wooden steps, Silk could not be sure he had told her it was, or that he had replied at all.

“If you don’t want to, they won’t make you,” Auk told his listeners. “You think the gods are a bunch of hoppies? They don’t push anybody around. Why should they? When they want to do you a good turn, they say do this and this, ’cause it’s going to be good, you’re going to like it. Only if you say it’s a queer lay, they say dimber by us, we’ll give it to somebody else. Remember Kypris? She didn’t say go uphill and solve all those kens. She said if you want to, go to it and I’ll keep the street. This is like that. I’m not here to make anybody do anything. Neither’s Tartaros.”

One of his listeners asked, “What’ve we got to do now?”

The blind god whose hand was upon Auk’s shoulder whispered, “Tell him to make ready.”

“To start with, you got to get yourself set,” Auk said. “Get used to it. You’ll be going to a new place. It’ll be better, real nice, but all the stuff you’re used to will be down the chute. Even the sun’ll be different, a short sun that won’t ever go out. You got to think about it, and that’s why I’m here, to start you culls thinking. You want to think about what to take, and who to take with you, and talk to ’em. If you’re like me, you’re going to want pals. Tell ’em. Every man’s got to have a woman, too, and every woman’s got to take a man. Just sprats don’t have to have anybody.”

A big-nosed woman shouted, “Over here!” and Auk’s listeners drifted away, forming two long lines, slug guns at the ready.

“That went well,” Tartaros whispered.

“They didn’t believe me.” Wearily, Auk started back down the tunnel; this one was open to the sky, as most were on this level. The walls were walls, but had doors and windows in them. He was still trying to make up his mind whether that made things better or worse.

“Men come slowly to belief,” the god whispered, “nor is that to be deplored. Some have taken the first step already, because you urged it.”

Auk felt a glow of satisfaction. “If you figure that was enough, what we did back there, dimber with me. Think I ought to steal something for her to eat? I said I would.”

“You must steal more cards, as well.”

Auk steered the blind god around a hoppy’s corpse, its eyes and mouth black with cold-numbed flies. “You won’t let me spend ’em, Terrible Tartaros.”

“We will have need of many cards, and quickly. Have I not made it clear to you?”

“Yeah, to fix up a lander.” Auk smiled at the thought. “I guess you did.”

“That is well. Your mind is mending. Steal food, if you wish, Auk, and more cards where you can.”

As their litter jogged down Sun Street Chenille said, “I’d like you to shrive me. Will this take long enough?”

“That will depend on how much you have to tell me.” Silk was acutely aware of her hip pressing his own. He recalled a rule forbidding sibyls from riding in a litter with a man; he was beginning to feel that there should be another — strictly enforced — against augurs riding with women. “Certainly it would be more regular to do it in the manteion, where we would not be pressed for time.”

“You know what I’m afraid of? I’m afraid of some goddess getting in me again. You don’t know about Scylla, do you?”

“I’ve spoken with Patera Incus. He told me that Scylla had possessed you — it was one of the reasons I was anxious to find you — and that she, through you, had appointed him Prolocutor.”

Chenille nodded, the motion of her head almost ghostly in the tightly curtained litter. “I remember that a little. Only he talked about it so much after she let me go that I can’t be sure exactly what I said. Auk could tell you.”

“I’ll ask when we find him; but the Prolocutorship is a concern of the Chapter’s, not the civil government’s. In other words, I have no more say in the matter than any other member of the clergy, and none at all as calde. Was Auk the only other person present?”

“Dace, but he’s dead.”

“I see. I refrained from asking Patera about witnesses. As I said, it’s a matter that concerns me only as one augur among many. It may be that I’ll no longer be an augur at all when the matter comes before the clergy.”

Silk was silent for a moment, his eyes vague. “If what Patera reports is true, and I’m inclined to credit him, it’s unfortunate that Scylla didn’t make her wish known at a time when other augurs, or sibyls, were present. Most of the—”

Chenille interrupted. “I wouldn’t mind if it was Kypris again. It might be nice. Only Scylla was really rough. That’s how I lost my gown and my good jade necklace, I’d go out to the lake and look for it, only I’m pretty sure somebody’s found it by this time. Anyway, isn’t there someplace where we could do it besides in the manteion? Kypris got me when I was in there, and Scylla when I was in her shrine at the lake. I’m going to try to stay away from places like that for a while.”

“I see. If you don’t look at the Sacred Window, you can’t be possessed — so Kypris implied, at least.” Too late, Silk recalled that there was no Window in Scylla’s shrine. “It may be that there are other means, of course,” he finished lamely, “or that only she is limited in that fashion.”

“Don’t you bucks ever get possessed?”

“Certainly we do. In fact, it’s much more usual, or so the Chrasmologic Writings imply. Men are normally possessed by male gods, such as Pas, Tartaros, Hierax, and the Outsider, or such minor male gods as Catamitus. That is true of enlightenment as well. I myself was enlightened by the Outsider, not Pas, though it would appear that common report attributes my enlightenment to Pas.” Silk forbore mentioning that Pas was dead.

“The reason I was asking—”

Their litter stopped, lowered gently to an uneven surface. Oreb pushed the curtain aside with beak, and was gone.

“I’ll be here a while,” Silk told the head bearer. “It might be best if I were to pay you now.”

The head bearer made an awkward bow with one eye on his men, who were helping Chenille out of the litter. “We’ll wait, Calde. No trouble.”

Silk got out his cardcase. “May I give you something so you can refresh yourselves while you wait?”

“We’ll be all right.” The head bearer backed away.

“As you wish.”

The garden gate was unlocked; Silk opened it for Chenille. “I was afraid you’d give them too much,” she whispered as she passed. “They’d get drunk.”

That explained the head bearer’s refusal, Silk decided as he reclosed the gate; it would not do for the bearers of the calde’s litter to be drunk. He made a mental note to allow for the propensity of the lowest classes to drink too much.

“Is anybody here?” Chenille looked about her at the arbor and the wells, the berry brambles and wilted tomato vines under the windows of the manse, the seared fig and the leafless little pear, and the spaded black soil that had been Maytera Marble’s struggling garden.

“At the moment? I can’t say. I assume that Patera Gulo’s still off fighting — or at any rate off watching what’s left of Erne’s brigade. Maytera Marble’s probably in the cenoby; we’ll find out when I’ve shriven you.”

“You won’t hold us long with a handful of men,” Maytera Mint told Spider. “Colonel Bison has five hundred.”

Spider chuckled. He was, as she had concluded a half-hour before, rather too well suited to his name, a man who made her think of a fat, hairy spider watching its web in a dirty corner.

Quetzal said, “He’s taking us down into the tunnels.”

Spider opened a door as Quetzal spoke, revealing a flight of rough steps descending into darkness. “You know about those, old man?”

“I just came up from them. Did you hear me tell Potto I’d talked to Loris?”

“Councillor Potto to you.” Spider gestured with a needler; he was two full heads taller. “Now get down there before I kick you down.”

“I can’t walk fast, my son.” Quetzal tottered toward the steps. “I’ll delay you and the others.”

There had been a note in his quavering old voice that gave Maytera Mint a surge of irrational confidence. “The Nine avenge wrongs done to augurs and sibyls,” she warned Spider, “and their vengeance is swift and terrible. What they might do to someone who maltreats the Prolocutor, I shudder to think.”

Spider grinned, showing remarkably crooked teeth. “That’s lily, General. So don’t you shove him down and run. Stir it, now. The tall cully behind you, and me behind him. We’re all going to wait nice till Councillor Potto and my knot fetch along his dead body.”

She started down the steps, one hand on a wooden rail that seemed both grimy and insecure. Behind her, Remora said, “This is where, ah, the calde, eh? The cellar, in which, um — “

“Sergeant Sand,” she told him. The dull gleam that had been Quetzal’s hairless head had disappeared into the darkness; she quickened her pace, although the steps were steep and high, and she was afraid of falling. “Sergeant Sand held the calde down here for six hours or more. He told me about it.”

Remora bumped her from behind. “Sorry! Ah — pushed.”

“Keep moving,” Spider growled.

The sound of their voices had kindled a dull green light some distance down the steps; in the dimness she could make out ranked shelves of dusty jars, and what seemed to be abandoned machinery. Involuntarily she murmured, “He’s gone.”

Spider heard her. “Who is?”

“His Cognizance.” She halted, speaking over her shoulder. “Look for yourself. He should be on the stair in front of me, but he’s not.” At the last words, the bright bird called hope sang in her heart.

“There you are!” Maytera Marble exclaimed as Silk emerged from the chilly privacy of the vine-draped arbor. “There’s a man here looking for you, Patera. I said you weren’t here, but he says you’ve got a litter on Sun Street.”

Silk sighed. “It’s been like this since Phaesday. No doubt it’s extremely urgent.”

“That’s just what he said, Patera.” Maytera Marble nodded vigorously, her metal face luminous in the gray daylight. “And it must be. He came in a floater.”

Chenille’s smile turned to a stare. “Hello, Maytera. What happened to your hand?”

“How good of you to ask!” She displayed her stump of arm. “My hand’s fine, my daughter. I’ve got it in a drawer, wrapped up in a clean towel. It’s the rest of — we should go, Patera. He’s waiting for you in front of the cenoby. He came in through the garden and knocked at your manse. I thought he was looking for Patera Gulo.”

“I was shriving Chenille,” Silk explained. “I’m afraid we didn’t hear him.”

“I did,” Chenille declared, “only I thought it was on the street. It was while I was telling you about—” He silenced her, a finger to his lips.

“His name is Hossaan,” Maytera Marble continued. “He’s foreign, I think, but he says he knows you. He gave you a ride once, and he was on a boat with you out on the lake. Now where are you — ? Oh, I forgot. He can’t go through the cenoby.”

The last words were spoken to Silk’s back. At a limping run, he vanished into the narrow opening between the northwest corner of the manteion and the southwest corner of the cenoby.

“There’s a gate,” Maytera Marble explained to Chenille, “that opens onto the children’s playground from Silver Street. But you and I can go through the cenoby.”

She mounted the back step and opened the kitchen door. “My granddaughter’s in here. I had just fixed her a bite when I saw that man. Do you know her?”

“Your granddaughter?” Chenille shook her head.

“Perhaps you’d enjoy a little boiled beef too?” Maytera Marble lowered her voice. “I think it’s good for her to talk with other bio girls. She’s been, well, sheltered, I suppose you could call it. And I have something to say to Patera before that man makes off with him. I have a favor to ask him, a great big one.”

On Silver Street, Silk was already speaking to “that man.” “I haven’t been looking for you,” he said. “It was stupid of me, incredibly stupid. I’ve had Guardsmen out combing the city for Hyacinth and some other people, but you had slipped my mind completely.”

“We can talk in my floater, Calde.” Hossaan was slight and swarthy, with vigilant eyes. “It’ll be more private and get us out of this wind.”

“Thank you.” Stepping into the floater, Silk let himself sink into its black-leather upholstery.

The translucent canopy went up with a muted sigh, and the freezing gusts that had been punishing Viron ended, if only for them.

“If your Guardsmen had looked, they would’ve found me.” Hossaan smiled as he took his place in the front seat. “These things aren’t easy to hide.”

“I suppose not. I ran to see you as soon as I realized who you were because I want to ask where Hyacinth is. You brought her to Ermine’s on Hieraxday to meet me.”

Hossaan nodded.

“From your name — Maytera Marble told me that — you’re a Trivigaunti. Is that right? Doctor Crane said once that you were his second in command. Most of the spies he employed seem to have been Vironese, but it would be natural for him to have a few from his own city, people he could trust completely.”

“Only me, Calde. You’re right, though. More of us would have made us a lot more effective.”

“Do you know where Hyacinth is?”

“No. I wish I did.” Hossaan drew a deep breath. “You know, Calde, you’ve taken a load off my shoulders. I thought I’d have to find out how much you knew and make sure you didn’t learn more than you had to. It turns out you knew everything.”

Silk shook his head. “Not at all. Doctor Crane and I made an agreement. I told him all I’d learned or guessed about his activities, and in return he answered my questions about them. I had guessed very little, and he told me very little more, not even his real name.”

“It was Sigada.” Hossaan smiled bitterly. “It means he was supposed to be handsome and humble.”

“But he was neither. Thank you.” Silk nodded. “Sigada. I’ll always remember him as Doctor Crane, but I’m glad to know how he remembered himself. You weren’t called Hossaan when you were at Blood’s, I’m sure.”

“No. Willet.”

“I see. You didn’t give that name to Maytera Marble; you gave her your real one. You can’t have known that Doctor Crane had told me about you, because you can’t have talked to him between our conversation Tarsday afternoon and his death on Hieraxday morning.”

“I told you I didn’t know how much you knew, Calde.”

“That’s right.” Futilely, Silk groped in a pocket of his robe. “Do you know, I don’t have any prayer beads now? When I was a poor augur, I had beads in my pocket but no money. Now I have money, but no beads.”

“An improvement. You can buy some.”

“If I can find the time when the shops are open, and get into one without being mobbed. You said you were going to tell me no more than you had to; but plainly you intended to tell me you were a Trivigaunti spy.”

“That’s right. I was going to tell you because you would have known it from the news I came to give you. Generalissimo Siyuf is coming to reinforce you, with thousands of troopers. I just found out about it myself.” Hossaan twisted in his seat until he was face-to-face with Silk. “It means your victory is assured, Calde. If you’re not defeated before she arrives, it will be impossible for you to be defeated at all.” There was a timid tap on the canopy, and Hossaan said, “It’s the sibyl.”

Turning, Silk saw Maytera Marble’s metal face, hardly a span from his. “Let her in, please. I can’t imagine myself saying anything. I wouldn’t want her to know — or hearing any such news or confidence, except in shriving.”

The canopy retraced, and Maytera Marble entered, her long black skin and wide sleeves flapping in the wind. “I spoke to you, Patera, but you couldn’t hear me.”

“No,” Silk said. “No, Maytera, I couldn’t.” He motioned to Hossaan and the canopy enclosed them as before.

“I don’t want to interrupt, but seeing you in this machine I thought you might be about to leave. And…and…”

“I suppose we are, but not without Chenille. I want to take her with me. Is she in the cenoby?”

Maytera Marble nodded. “I’ll go get her in a moment, Patera. She’s eating.”

“But first you want to tell me something. Is it about her, or,” Silk hesitated, “your granddaughter, Maytera?”

“I wanted to ask you for something, Patera, actually. I realize that you and this foreign gentleman were conferring, and that it’s important. But this won’t take long. I’ll ask and go.”

“Hossaan is from Trivigaunte,” Silk told her, “like your friend General Saba. They’re our allies, as you must know, and I’ve just learned from Hossaan that they’re sending more troops to help us.”

“Why, that’s wonderful!” Maytera Marble smiled, her head back and inclined to the right. “But after news like that my little problem will seem terribly insignificant, I’m afraid.”

“I’m certain it won’t, Maytera. You’re not the sort who bothers others with insignificant problems.” To Hossaan, Silk added, “Now I want to say that Maytera was to me what you were to Doctor Crane, but she was far more. I came to this manteion straight from the schola, and I’d been here only a bit over a year when Patera Pike died. Maytera saved me from making a fool of myself at least once a day.” He paused, remembering. “Though I wish it had been more, because I did make a fool of myself often, in spite of all that she could do.”

“I intrigued against you, too,” Maytera Marble confessed. “I didn’t hate you, or at least I told myself I didn’t. But I obstructed and embarrassed you in small ways, telling myself that it was for your own good.” Her voice grew urgent. “I don’t have the right to ask favors. I know that, but—”

“Of course you do!”

“I can’t manage it myself. I wish I could. I’ve prayed for the means, but I can’t. Do you know Marl, Patera?”

“I don’t think so.” Silk, who knew few chems, exhausted his mental list quickly. “She — ?”

“He, Patera.”

“He can’t attend our sacrifices. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a chem there — except you, of course.”

“There aren’t many left,” Hossaan put in, “here or in my own city. Is he a soldier?”

Maytera Marble shook her head. “He’s a valet. He works for a man called Fulmar. I don’t see him often at all, but I went over yesterday, my granddaughter and I did, and…”

“Go on, Maytera.”

“I showed him my hand. The one that my — you know…”

Silk nodded, he hoped encouragingly. “It’s better not to dwell on that, Maytera, I’m sure. You showed him your hand.”

“I brought it in a little basket, wrapped up in a towel, because there’s fluid that might leak out. It’s a very good hand still. It’s just that I can’t put it back on.”

“I understand.”

“Marl says there’s a shop, though I’d think it would have to be a big place, really, way over past the crooked bridge, where they make taluses and fix them. Mostly it’s fixing, he said, because it takes so long to make one, and so much money. We chems aren’t really like taluses. We were made in the Short Sun Whorl, and we can think and see a great deal better, and we don’t burn fish oil,” she laughed nervously, “or anything like that. But Marl thought they might be able to do this for me — put it back — if I had the money. It wouldn’t be like making a chem or even a talus, just a simple repair.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I should have thought of something like that, Maytera. Welding? Is that that they call it?”

Hossaan said, “That’s what they call it when they fix a floater.”

“It’s not just reuniting the metal, Patera. There are little tubes in there, tiny tubes, and wires, and things like threads — fibers, they’re called — that pipe light. Look.” She held up her useless right arm, pushing back the sleeve so that he could see the sheared end. “Marl thought they might be able to do it. He’s as old as I was, Patera, and I don’t think he always reasons correctly any more. But…”

Silk nodded. “It’s your only chance. I understand.”

“Marl would have given me the money if he’d had it, but he’s very poor. This Fulmar doesn’t pay him, just clothes and a place to live. And even if I had money, they might not want to try it, Marl said, unless I had a great deal.”

“Believe me, I’ll help you, Maytera. We’ll go as quickly as we can. You have my word on it.”

She had taken a large white handkerchief from her empty sleeve. “I’m so sorry, Patera.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t really cry, not for a long, long time. And yet I feel that way. There’s so much work, with you gone and Patera Gulo gone, and Maytera Mint gone, and my granddaughter to take care of, and just one hand for everything.”

Silk reached another decision. “I’m going to take you away, too, Maytera, for the time being at least. You and Mucor both. I need you both, and it’s too dangerous for you — and for her, particularly — to be here alone. Will you come with me if I ask you to? Remember, I’m still the augur of this manteion.”

She looked up at him with a new glow behind the scratched, dry lenses of her eyes. “Yes indeed, Patera, if you tell me to. I’ll have to straighten up first and put things away. Put a notice on the door of the palaestra so the children will know.”

“Good. There’s a Calde’s Palace on the Palatine, as well as the Prolocutor’s. I’m sure you must remember when the calde lived there.”

She nodded.

“I’m reopening it. I’ve slept in the Juzgado the past few nights, but that’s never been more than an expedient; if Viron’s to have a new calde, he has to live in the Calde’s Palace. I’ll need a place to entertain Generalissimo Siyuf when she arrives, to begin with. We’ll want an official welcome for her and her troops, too, and I’ll have to notify Generalissimo Oosik as soon as possible. Thousands of fresh troops are certain to change his plans.”

Silk turned to Hossaan. “How long do we have? Can you give me some idea?”

“Not an accurate one, Calde. I’m not sure when she left Trivigaunte, and Siyul’s a famous hard marcher.”

“A week?”

“I doubt it.” Hossaan shook his head. “Three or four days, at a guess.”

“Patera.” Maytera Marble touched Silk’s arm. “I can’t live in the same house with a man, not even an augur. I know nothing will — but the Chapter…”

“You can if he’s ill,” Silk told her firmly. “You can sleep in the same house to nurse him. I’ve a chest wound — I’ll show it to you as soon as we get there, and you can change the dressing for me. I’m also recovering from a broken ankle. His Cognizance will grant you a dispensation, I’m sure, or the coadjutor can. Hossaan, can you take us back to the Juzgado? There will be four of us.”

“Sure thing, Calde.”

“I don’t have a floater at present, except for the Guard floaters, and Oosik needs those. Perhaps I could hire you and your floater — we’ll talk about it.

“Maytera, do whatever you must, and tack up that note. I was hoping to sacrifice here and go to the Cock when I left, but both will have to wait. Tomorrow, perhaps.

“Hossaan, I’m going into the manse for a moment while she does all that; then we’ll collect Mucor and a young woman who came here with me, and pay off my litter.”

“I heard you had a pet bird,” Saba said, eyeing Oreb; she was a massive woman with a marked resemblance to an angry sow.

Silk smiled. “I’m not sure pet’s the correct word. I’ve been trying to set him free for days. The result has been that he comes and goes as he pleases, says anything he wants, and seems to enjoy himself far more than I do. Today we went back to my manteion, mostly to enlist Maytera Marble’s help in airing this place out. I got some important news there, by the way, which I’ll give you in a moment.”

“That’s right.” Saba snapped her fingers. “You holy men are supposed to be able to find out the gods’ will by looking at sheep guts, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Some of us are better at it than others, of course, and no one’s ever suggested that I’m much better than average. Don’t you have augurs in Trivigaunte?”

“No cut!” Oreb required reassurance.

“Not you, silly bird. Positively not.” Silk smiled again. “I got him as a victim, you see; and though I’ve ruled that out, he’s afraid I’ll change my mind. What I wanted to tell you is that I went into the manse to see if I’d left my beads there Phaesday night. I should have said earlier that he’d flown off when I got out of my litter.

“Well, I went into the kitchen because I empty my pockets on the kitchen table sometimes, and there he was on the larder. ‘Bird home,’ he told me, and seemed quite content; but he rode out on my shoulder when I left.”

“He sounds like a good trooper,” Saba leaned back in her ivory-inlaid armchair. “You have so many male troopers here. I’m still getting used to them, though most fight well enough. I have news for you, too, Calde, when you’ve given me yours.”

“In a moment. To tell the truth, I’m afraid you’ll rush off the minute you hear it and I want to ask about augury in Trivigaunte. Besides, Chenille’s making coffee, and she’ll be disappointed if we don’t drink it. She wants to meet you, too — you helped save her; she was one of the hostages at Blood’s.” Seeing that Saba did not understand him, Silk added, “The villa in the country.”

“Oh, there. You were the one we came after, Calde.”

“But you saved Chenille too, and Patera Incus and Master Xiphias — you and Generalissimo Oosik, and several thousand of General Mint’s people, I ought to say.”

Saba nodded. “We were a little part, but we did what we could. Where’s Mint, anyhow?”

“Trying to turn courageous but untrained and undisciplined volunteers into a smoothly running horde, I assume. I’ve tried to do that sort of thing myself on a much smaller scale — with the mothers of the children at our palaestra, for example. I don’t envy her the task.”

“You’ve got to get rough with them, sometimes,” Saba told him, looking as if that were the aspect she enjoyed. “There’s times to be pals, all troopers together. And there’s times when you need the karbaj.”

Silk wisely refrained from asking what the karbaj was. “About augury. From what you said, I take it that it’s not practiced in Trivigaunte? Is that correct?”

Saba inclined her head, the movement barely perceptible. “You try to make the gods like you by cutting up animals. We don’t. I’m not trying to offend you.”

“Not at all, General.”

“I’m a plain-spoken old campaigner, and I don’t pretend to be anything more. Or anything less. A simple old trooper. The way things are here makes me try and act like an ambassador, so I do my best.” She laughed loudly. “But that’s not too good, so I’ll give it to you straight. Your customs seem backwards to me, and I keep waiting for them to turn around. Take her, now.” Saba pointed to Chenille, who had entered with a tray. “Here’s a woman and a man talking, and a woman waiting on them. I’m not saying you never see that at home, but you don’t see it often.”

“But to get back—” Silk accepted a cup. “Thank you, Chenille. You didn’t have to do this, and I’m not sure General Saba realizes that. Goodness and servility look alike at times, though they’re very different. Won’t you sit down?”

“If I won’t bother you.”

“Of course not. We’ll be happy to have your company, and I know you were anxious to meet General Saba. She’s the commander of the Rani’s airship.”

“I know.” Chenille gave Saba an admiring smile.

“She was one of your rescuers. Generalissimo Oosik told me afterward that he’d be delighted to see the kind of efficiency her pterotroopers displayed in a brigade of our Guard.”

“They’re picked women, every one of them,” Saba told Silk complacently. “The competition to get in is fierce. We turn away ten for each we take.”

“I want to get back to augury. If I seem to be harping on it, I hope you’ll excuse me; I was trained as an augur, and I doubt that I’ll ever lose interest in it entirely. But first, would it be possible for me to go up in your airship some time?”

Saba winked at Chenille, her brutal face briefly humorous.

“One of the students — his name is Horn, and he’s acting as a messenger here for the present — told me not long ago that he’d dreamed of flying. So have I, though I didn’t admit it to Horn, or even to myself when I spoke with him.”

“Bird fly!” Oreb proclaimed.

“Exactly. We can scarcely look up without seeing a bird; and there are fliers every few days, proving it can be done. When I was a boy, I used to imagine they were shouting, “We can fly and you can’t!” up there too high to be heard. I knew it was foolish, but the feeling has never left me entirely.”

“Wing good.” Hopping onto Silk’s head, Oreb displayed it.

“He couldn’t fly for a while,” Silk explained. “Before that I doubt that he took much pride in it.”

“I’m going to surprise you, Calde,” Saba announced. “You are welcome to visit my airship anytime. Just let me know when you’re coming so I can get things trooper-like for you.”

“Of course.” Silk sipped from his cup, pausing to admire the delicate porcelain, brave with gilt and holding a painted Scylla as well as coffee.

“If that were wine, I’d tell you I was going to fit you up with wings like my girls”, the teeth of Saba’s underjaw showed in a savage grin, “and shove you out. But sham diplomats don’t get to make that sort of a joke.”

Silk sighed. “I’d thought about it. I’m not at all sure I have the courage, but perhaps I might try.”

“Don’t. You’d be crippled for life if you weren’t killed. My girls start with a platform that would fit in this room. I — who’s that!”

“Who?” Silk glanced at the doors; so did Chenille.

“There was a face in that mirror.” Saba stood up, her cup still in her hand. “Somebody that isn’t in here, somebody I’ve never seen before. I saw her!”

“I’m sure you did, General.” Silk put down his coffee.

“You’ve only just reopened this palace, isn’t that right?”

“Less than an hour ago, actually. Maytera Marble and—”

“A secret passage.” Saba’s tone brooked no contradiction. “The mirror’s a peephole, and somebody’s spying from in there already. One passage at least, and there could be more, I’ve seen some at home. What’s that girl doing?”

Chenille had gone to the mirror and grasped the sides of its ornate frame with both hands. “It’s dusty,” she told Silk. “They had dust covers over all this, but dust got in anyhow.” With a grunt of effort, she lifted the mirror from its hook; behind it was featureless plaster, somewhat lighter in color than that to either side.

Silk had risen when Saba did. He limped to the wall and rapped it with his knuckles, evoking solid thuds. Saba stared, her wide mouth working.

“Want me to put this back, Patera?” Chenille inquired.

“I don’t think so. Not yet, at least. I’ll do it, or Master Xiphias can. Can you put it down without dropping it?”

“I think so. I’m pretty strong.”

The heels of Saba’s polished riding boots came together with a click. “I apologize, Calde. I’m leaving. Again, I regret this very much.”

“Don’t go yet,” Silk said hastily. “Your Generalissimo Siyuf is bringing us thousands of—”

Saba’s cup fell to the costly carpet, splashing it and her gleaming boots with black coffee. “That’s the news I was going to tell you! You — you learned that from animal guts?”