Return to the Whorl

14. LUNCHEON AT THE CALDE'S PALACE

Do all of you wish to see the calde?" Bison's clerk inquired doubtfully.

Pig said, "Aye," and rose; Hound nodded, cleared his throat, and said, "Y-yes." Oreb, who had taken a dislike to the clerk, spat, "Bad man!"

"I'll have to see about it," the clerk informed them, and disappeared for the second time behind the heavy door of carved oak.

Perhaps to conceal his nervousness, Hound said, "I suppose this has changed a lot since the last time you were here, Horn?"

He shook his head. "It seems very much the same. This is a new carpet, but it seems very like the one that was here when I carried a message to Calde Silk. That is certainly the door I remember, and I'd guess that these chairs were here then."

The clerk returned, nodded, and motioned to him; and he told Pig, "We're to go in now. Watch out for the lintel."

"Nae muckle a wait, bucky." Pig took his arm.

"No. I would call it very gracious."

The paneled room beyond held more chairs and two desks, both littered with papers; a second door larger than the first yielded smoothly but slowly to the clerk's tug at its massive handle of molded brass. A tall, narrow window overlooking the city showed through the widening crevice; beside it the edge of a functioning glass, blank but shimmering with dove-and-silver promise. A burly, smiling man appeared to assist the clerk with the heavy door. His beard was streaked with gray, and his dark hair had receded from his temples. Seeing him, Hound swallowed audibly.

The bearded man smiled. "I'm Calde Bison. Sorry I kept you waiting, but I had a few little arrangements to make." He offered his hand.

Hound shook it. "These are my friends Horn and Pig, Calde. It's Horn who really has to see you."

Bison nodded; his smile was guarded now.

"He's come all the way from Blue. That's what he says. I mean, he has I'm sure. And he's been to Green. Pig and I… Well, I thought I'd better come too."

He looked at his companions desperately; the smaller said, "I've been sent here by New Viron, the town our colonists have founded. I'd like to tell you about it."

Bison shook his hand and invited them to sit down. The chairs were large and comfortable, elaborately carved, with red leather seats and tapestried backs. He edged his nearer Bison, discovering that it was so heavy he had difficulty moving it.

"I'm here as the representative of the Ayuntamiento of New Viron," he began, "and of our town as a whole; I should explain that though it has a de facto Ayuntamiento, it has no calde."

"Silk talk!" Oreb proclaimed.

He smiled. "Yes, that's what we want, but I really ought to explain the situation there to the calde before we get to that. If I don't make that clear, he won't understand why we need his cooperation as badly as we do."

"Explain away." Bison's eyes were guarded still.

"I've been gone for some time now. I must tell you that. My information may not be current; and in fact, if a lander has arrived lately from that part of Blue-"

Bison shook his head.

"Very well then. Originally we saw no need of a government of any kind. We left you and General Mint behind to fight the Trivigauntis when we went down into the tunnels. You may have regarded that as a desertion, though I hope you did not."

Bison shrugged. "I doubt that your group included a dozen fighting men. I thought you were, well, signally courageous."

"My father remained behind to fight. I should mention that-I must. I also ought to mention that we fought Trivigauntis ourselves down in the tunnels. You spoke of fighting men. We had fighting women down there, a lot of them. And fighting boys and even a few fighting girls. Almost everyone who could hold a slug gun fought. If they hadn't, we would never have made it to the landers."

"I can imagine."

"We were three days in the tunnels, or about that. Then three weeks on the lander, very crowded, with sleepers mixed with us. They were confused for the most part; some very badly confused indeed, nearly insane. There was almost enough water-that was an enormous blessing-but little food. I've heard since of landers on which the situation was worse, but ours was bad enough. We didn't have an easy time of it."

"Yer stuck h'it, bucky. 'Tis ther thing."

"We all stuck it, Pig." He tried to put all that he felt into his voice, and could only hope he was succeeding. "There were some leaders among us, but if the rest hadn't supported them, it wouldn't have mattered; and more than half the time the people led them. So when we reached Blue, it was natural for us to govern ourselves. If there was something to be decided we met-all or most of us-and everyone who wanted to spoke before we voted on it. There were some of us, such as Marrow, who were heard with more attention than others; and if all of them spoke on the same side, the vote was largely a formality."

Bison said, "Nevertheless, you yourselves decided it, and not your leaders."

"Exactly. That was how we divided the land, for example. We agreed upon the farmsteads, less land for those with rich soil or a spring; and when all the parcels had been staked out, we drew lots. In time, the town grew. There were many other landers from here, particularly in the first few years."

Bison nodded.

"And landers from other cities-often places we'd never heard of-came down near us, and their people joined us." (It seemed best not mention that some had been forced to, and were bought and sold like cattle.) "Then too, there had been many children on the lander. I was one myself, if you like-I was only fifteen. Many more were born in the first few years."

"Your system became unworkable."

"Yes. There were too many people, and some farms were too far away. Some people abandoned theirs and became fishermen or traders or loggers, and often they were gone and missed the Assembly. Then too, in the beginning everyone had wanted to live near town. As it became crowded, and robberies, rapes, and riots increased, many who had once spoken wisely in the Assembly no longer wanted to live in town or even near it."

"Bad hole!" Oreb explained.

"We needed a calde, and everyone saw it. I cannot say how many wealthy and powerful men wanted the office. Eight or ten, perhaps. Possibly even more."

Bison nodded, looking from Hound to Pig. "You didn't hold an election?"

"It would've meant anarchy, a worse anarchy than we endured already-open warfare among those eight or ten factions. In the end, someone would have been calde over…"

"Ruins," Bison completed the thought for him. "As I am, and as my wife was before me, and Patera Silk-if I may say it-was before her."

He shook his head. "I've seen the destruction, but I've also seen that most of Viron survived its war with Trivigaunte. I doubt that a single house in New Viron would survive the war against ourselves that threatens it."

He paused to draw breath. "I said I'd have to describe conditions in New Viron, and now I have. There is no unity and no sanity, or at least very little; but there is enough for five of our most powerful citizens to ask that you send Silk to us. The people will welcome him, and all five have sworn to support him."

Hound coughed apologetically. "He… From what you say. The others will still be stronger than Calde Silk, won't they?"

"No. In the first place, they could never oppose him as a block, and each would fear the others' treachery at least as much as the calde. In the second, thousands who are committed to no one at present would flock to him. His supporters will be united, and far more numerous than theirs."

He turned back to Bison. "That is to say, they will be if you'll let us have him. That's why I'm here. I'm hoping you'll tell me where he is, and help me persuade him to go."

"You'll want a lander, too. Or do you have one?"

Oreb added his own inquiry. "Thing fly?"

"That's right, the thing that flies between whorls. No, I haven't got one, and we'll have to have one. Surely-"

Bison raised a hand. "Surely I have a dozen I'm not using at the moment. Is that what you were going to say? Well, I don't. When Silk himself was calde, he sent off everyone who could be persuaded to go. It used to be that when a man was convicted, he was thrown into the pits." Bison laughed. "I used to think it was going to happen to me eventually. But when Silk took over they were given their choice, the landers or execution. I can't remember any choosing execution."

"If"

Bison's hand went up again. "Just a moment. You've asked for this, and I'm not through.

"The convicts were only a small part of what we sent. Most were manual laborers of one sort or another. Laborers and their families. Carpenters and masons, and small farmers and farm laborers. Something was said a while ago about me being calde over ruins. That's an exaggeration, but there's truth in it, and the truth is there because Silk sent out every lander he could patch up enough to fly. Not many came back, and when they they did he filled them up and sent them off again."

Bison leaned back, red-faced and scowling, then chuckled. "Well, I've got that off my chest, and I've been wanting to for a long time."

Hound ventured, "If there's no lander, Silk and Horn can't go to Blue, can they?"

Bison consulted a slim gold watch. "If they go, they'll have to get one someplace else, that's all. I may be able to help with that. Or they can wait until I have one, though I don't know when that may be."

"You'll tell me where Silk is, and help me persuade him?"

Bison stood. "Maybe, and maybe not. I haven't decided. It's lunchtime, gentlemen, and you're invited to lunch at my palace. Will you do me the honor of dining with my wife and me? We can talk about all this some more while we eat."

Bison and Pig sat on the wide rear seat of Bison's floater, the others on jump seats facing them. "I go home for lunch just about every day," Bison told them as the floater glided forward. "Generally I tell people it's because I like my cook's food."

He paused, fingering his beard. "That's true, I do. But that's not really why I go home to eat. It's because I want to talk to my wife about whatever has come up that morning. Now I want to talk to her about this. For one thing, she knows Silk better than I do."

He said, "You must mean Maytera Mint. In a book we wrote, we-my wife Nettle and I-tried to imply that you and Maytera Mint might marry; but we couldn't be certain that such a marriage would actually take place."

"Good girl!"

Bison laughed. "Don't call her Maytera, please. She isn't a sibyl anymore and doesn't like to be reminded of it. Call her General, or just Mint. She doesn't mind either one of those."

When no one else spoke, Pig muttered, "Bonny ride, bucky. Traveled far, aye, an' h'every way but flyin'. This's best. Feel a' h'it."

"I had almost forgotten about these, but I rode in the calde's once or twice before we left." He was looking out at the city through the transparent dome. "Willet was the driver, and he promised to teach me to drive, too. That was the day before we went up to the airship, and I've wondered sometimes whether he-well, never mind. It doesn't matter."

"Ter yer, bucky."

Bison told his own driver to go slower, then spoke to Pig, first touching his knee. "Do you know about my wife?"

"Nae had ther honor."

"Then I should tell you. She's in a wheelchair. It's not that she can't walk. She can, but it's painful. So she uses the chair, mostly. I thought you ought to know. Horn does already, I'm sure."

He turned from the contemplation of empty shops. "No, I didn't. What happened?"

"Someone tried to kill her."

Hound said, "I remember people talking about it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He was killed himself a few seconds after he fired." Bison lifted his shoulders and let them fall. "If it weren't for your friend here, I wouldn't have mentioned it."

"Poor man," Oreb muttered. It was not clear whether he intended Bison or the assassin. "Poor girl."

Their floater, already moving slowly, slowed more, then settled to the wide, smooth paving stones before the Calde's Palace. With the whisper of one who betrays a secret, its transparent dome vanished into its gleaming sides. The driver sprang from his seat to open one side for them; from his green uniform, he was a hoppy, a member of the Calde's Guard.

Two more Guardsmen threw back the wide front doors of the Calde's Palace.

Pig had taken his arm. "Braw place, bucky? Feels sae."

"Handsome? Is that what brave means? It is indeed, with a door you won't have to duck through. Mind the steps, though."

The questing tip of Pig's sheathed sword found the first.

"I kept you waiting outside my office," Bison explained as he went up, "because I wanted to get my wife on the glass and ask about inviting you. She doesn't always feel up to entertaining, and it seemed better to find out how she was today in private. Frankly, I was amazed. She's eager to see you."

Hound was already wide-eyed. "I just wish Tansy were here. That's my own wife. She would be so thrilled…"

"If you live near here-" Bison began.

"Oh, no. It's-we live in Endroad. And she'd have to dress and everything. To tell you the truth, she probably wouldn't come, because she doesn't have a dress good enough."

Bison's wife Mint was waiting for them in the big dining room in which Silk had once entertained Generalissimo Siyuf. Bison hurried over to her. "My dear, I would like to present Horn, a visitor from Blue, and his friends Hound and Pig."

"Know girl!" Oreb proclaimed.

Mint smiled at all four; and although her face was pale and drawn, her smile was bright. "Welcome. Welcome, all of you. Horn, you can't have forgotten me. You used to be my runner."

He smiled and saluted. "Of course not, General."

"It's good to see you again. No, it's better than good. Wonderful, in fact. Have we been feeding you here in Viron?"

"Bountifully."

Hound said, "We breakfasted at our inn, just down the street. There was lots of very good food, but he kept giving his to Pig."

"Bird eat!"

"And to Oreb, though Oreb didn't eat as much."

"We have plenty for him here." She gestured toward the table. "For all of you. Sit down, please. I'm seated already, and we don't stand on ceremony here, or not till shadelow. My dear, would you push me?"

Bison did.

"There, that's better." From one end of the long table, Mint regarded the silver serving dishes with satisfaction. "I've put you all on one side because I had to. We can't pass, unless there are at least three on a side. The calde and I have to sit at a corner when we eat in here by ourselves."

She rapped her glass three times with back of a table knife, and told the maid who appeared, "We're ready, I believe. You may-no, we're not. We ought to have an invocation. Would you do it, Horn?"

He shook his head ruefully. "You think I've become an augur. I have not. I have no right to this robe."

"Better a false augur than none. If you don't do it, I'll have to ask the calde. He'll send to the Prolocutor's Palace, and it will be time for dinner before we have our lunch."

"I-"

"Please, Horn. For me."

He rose and made the sign of addition. "Gracious Outsider, I, who learned so many prayers at the urging of this good woman, do not know the proper one to make you on such an occasion. We offer our thanks to you-inadequate thanks, yet all we have to give-for good food and for bringing us together in hospitality and friendship."

He sat, and Bison murmured, "Phaea bless our feast."

Mint picked up a platter. "Here is squab salad, Pig. It's a specialty here, or so we like to think. May I give you some?"

"Thank yer kin'ly."

She heaped his plate. "You're the most reticent of our guests. You've hardly spoken a word since you came, so it is my duty as hostess to draw you out."

"Pig talk!"

"Thank you, Oreb. Hound, you're not eating. Give him some of that salmon and caper mixture, dear, before Honeysuckle brings in the hot meats.

"Now you must help me, Pig. I'm not very good at this, so you have to pretend that I've very cleverly made you relax and babble like a brook."

"Nae sae guid meself, mistress."

"He's a difficult case," Mint told her husband. "These overgrown boys are often like that. It's hard to get them to contribute in class, but one must persevere."

"Let me try. Pig, I know why Horn came to see me this morning. He wants Calde Silk, and thinks I can give him to him. I take it you're a friend of his. Of Horn's, I mean."

"Aye."

"Did you come with him simply to provide moral support? Or do you have some request of your own?"

"Me een."

Bison looked back to his wife; and Hound said hurriedly, "This is my fault, Calde. I told him I thought there might be a doctor here who could help him."

Pig coughed, a self-conscious little sound that might have proceeded from an unusually mannerly mountain. "There's nae. Yer neednae say h'it. Auld Pig knows h'it."

"Then I won't, and for all I know there may be someone here who can help you. I'll make inquiries."

"Nae. Save yer pother. Yer guid wife would nae be crouchy an' sae guid a leech yer ha'." Although Pig's shaggy head did not turn, his hand brushed Mint's arm with claw-tipped fingers nearly as thick as that arm itself. "Yer sees an' Pig walks. 'Tis ther better part. A ghaist told me ter stick wi' bucky ter get me cen back. If auld Pig's ter see, yer might skelp yet."

Mint looked to the man Pig mentioned. "Is that a ghost?"

"I think it must be, though the woman-Mucor, you may remember her."

Mint nodded.

"She isn't dead, or at least I don't believe she is. But she can appear to people, rather like a ghost, and she appeared to Pig. I know it sounds mad to talk of someone's appearing to a blind man, but he could see her. Couldn't you, Pig?"

"Aye, bucky."

"He thought it wonderful, as I still do. She told him that if he remained with me he might get his sight back. Isn't that correct, Pig? That's what I understood you to say."

"Aye." Pig shifted his huge bulk in his chair. "Yer will nae leave me mair, will yet, bucky?"

"I won't, and that's a promise." He spoke to Mint. "When we got to the city, I wanted very much to be alone awhile in the Sun Street Quarter. You'll understand that, I believe, General; or at least I hope you will."

"We-I've done the same thing."

"I asked Pig to go. He did, and it wasn't until much later that I realized how cruel it had been."

"'Tis Nall right, bucky."

"No, it isn't, and it won't happen again. Perhaps I should say here and now, so that the calde and General Mint can hear it, that if your vision hasn't been restored by the time Silk and I leave for Blue, you're coming with us."

Mint smiled. "That reminds me. I should tell my husband, and you, that we've been haunted again. Not just the little one this time, but by Silk as well."

He stared in consternation. "Are you saying he's dead?"

"No." Her smiled was impish. "In fact, I'm quite certain he's not, Patera."

"Good Silk!" Oreb exclaimed.

He sighed and laid down his fork. "I won't tell you again that I'm not an augur-you know it, and there's no harm in your amusing yourself. Please understand, however, that this is a serious matter to me. I must find Silk and bring him to Blue. I've pledged myself to make every effort. I've kept that pledge so far, and I intend to keep it. If I had been able to find Calde Silk, I wouldn't be troubling you like this; but I haven't. He had a house in the country, or so I'm told-"

Hound interrupted. "A cottage. That's what they say."

"But he's not there, and no one seems to know where he's living now. Hound and Tansy didn't, and they seemed to think it unlikely that anybody in Endroad did. But the calde does-the calde must-"

"I don't," Bison said.

Oreb spoke for his master. "No, no!"

"Darling, you must, you simply must, learn to be tactful." Mint's smile was gone. "Look at him. Look at his face."

His head was in his hands. "If you-this is insane."

She nodded. "It certainly is. Let me explain. It will be insane just the same, and I can't do anything about that. But an explanation may help. You've been gone since the war?"

He nodded.

"You know Silk became calde. Do you also know that he resigned the office in my favor?"

"He was forced out, so I was told."

She shook her head. "He may have felt he was, and even said he was. But he wasn't. A lot of people disagreed with some of his policies, particularly concerning emigration. My own husband was one of them. Eventually the disagreement grew strident, and Silk made a speech. He isn't a very good speaker, and he seldom attempts it, but that was a good one. It was so good, in fact, that it's taught in the palaestras now. He said that he had sent so many people out from Viron because he felt it was his duty to the gods, to Pas and the Outsider, particularly."

Hound, seated at Bison's end of the table, leaned toward her, cupping his ear. "Could you speak up just a little, please? I can't hear you, and I-I'd like to."

"I'll try. Silk also said that he felt it was his duty to the city, to Viron. That he had been in communication with the gods, with Pas specifically, and that the whole whorl would be scourged if enough people didn't go. There were no godlings then, or anyway nobody here had seen one."

Oreb inquired, "See ghost?"

Mint smiled and shook her head. "Then he reminded everyone that he'd promised us often that he would be calde only as long as we wanted him. After that he asked whether the people did. He was still popular with many citizens, but a lot of his firmest supporters had boarded the landers."

Bison said, "There were cheers and boos. You'll want to know whether I cheered or booed, but I doubt that any of you will ask. I cheered. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth."

"It is. I was with him, and I cheered too. But then, and this struck us both like a lightning bolt, he said that he bowed to the popular will. As of the moment he resigned his office-Yes, what is it, Honeysuckle?"

There was a whispered conference before Mint waved her maid away. "Pig, would you be so kind as to push my chair for me? I can move it myself when I have to, but it's a rather heavy chair. Will you help me?"

"Aye, mistress. Honored ter." Pig rose. Groping fingers thrice the size of hers found the handles of her chair and drew her slowly back from the table. "Have ter tell me which way."

"To my right a quarter turn, please."

The three remaining men watched them depart in silence; when they had vanished through a gilded arch, Hound murmured, "I wonder what she wants with him."

Bison picked up the wine bottle. "What makes you think she wants anything?"

"It's-well, obvious. Or I think it is. Maybe I wouldn't think so if I hadn't been around Horn for the past couple days. But it seems obvious after what I've heard. She could have had that girl push her, or pushed herself. Or any of us could have done it, and we can see. Pig might run her into a wall, though I hope he won't. So she wanted to speak to him alone, and jumped at the first opportunity to do it. Jumped is a bad word here, I suppose. But she did."

Bison refilled Hound's wineglass. "If a few days of Horn's company has done that, I ought to keep him around myself. What do you say, Horn? Is your pupil right?"

"I don't know. It seems plausible."

"What is she saying to him? Your best guess."

"If you're asking what she's telling him, I doubt that she's telling him anything. I would guess she's questioning him about something-something she thinks he might speak openly about when the two of them are alone-"

Hound snapped his fingers and looked pleased.

"You've guessed it? What is it? I confess I have only the foggiest ideas."

Hound's mouth opened, then shut again.

Bison said, "Tell us. I'd like to know, too."

"No. I won't. I apologize, Calde. I'm sorry, Horn. But I like General Mint, and Pig's my friend. If they want us to know, they can tell us."

Oreb bobbed approval. "Wise man!"

Bison smiled. "Shall we try to force it out of him, Horn?"

He shook his head. "He's right, and so is Oreb. Hound, you surprise me about once a day. I believe I've said something like that to you before, and it's true. I hadn't thought through the ethical implications. General Mint is an extraordinarily good woman, and a wise one. If she believes her question-and its answer-demands privacy, she's probably correct."

Hound laid a finger to his lips.

As she came through the doorway, Mint announced, "There will be four hot meats, I'm afraid, instead of the five cook planned. But Pig has tasted the shirred oysters for me and pronounces them excellent."

"Aye. H'oreb? H'oreb h'about?"

"Bird here. No go."

"Gi'e yer ae. Yer nae had ther like."

"Good Pig!"

With her chair back at the table, Mint speared an artichoke heart with her fork. "Where was I? Oh, yes, I was trying to explain about the man who shot me."

Bison gave her a concerned look.

"Yes, I was. That's what I was circling around toward. That and the ghost. Pig wants to know about the ghost. He asked me back in the kitchen."

"See ghost?" Oreb repeated.

"I didn't, Oreb, but my cook did. Horn, I want to tell you these things particularly. You say you're looking for Silk."

"I am."

Bison said, "So is someone else. I want to tell you about that before we finish lunch, but I'll let my wife go first."

"Thank you. I don't know whether these things I'm going to tell you will help you, Horn, but they may."

He nodded. "Please go on. I'm very grateful."

"I used to be calde. I don't know whether you remember our law here. The one concerning succession says that the calde can designate his own successor. He can tell the people whom he wants, or leave a paper in case he dies. Calde Silk resigned, and in the speech I've described he designated me."

He nodded again.

"The Rani's government was beside itself." Mint's smile warmed them. "Here they had been saying that Vironese women were slaves, and Viron had its first woman calde. We thought at first that the man who shot me might have been working for the Trivigauntis. But he was Vironese, and if there was a Trivigaunti connection we couldn't trace it."

Hound asked, "Isn't it possible that he shot you just because you're a woman? There are men who feel like that, or anyway they say they do."

Bison shook his head. "Not many."

"But there are some. Isn't that right, Horn?"

"Yes, there are, I'm sure. One would be sufficient."

Mint said, "I agree, but I don't think that's what it was. Neither does my husband, though he won't say so."

"I have no opinion. We've never been able to learn enough for me to form an opinion."

"I have my own, just the same. You see, when I became calde, the sun went out. I don't mean the moment I assumed the office. It was about a week later."

"Eight days," Bison said.

"Yes, eight days. It had been hot, terribly hot, and from what we were able to find out, even hotter in Urbs than it was here. We lost about a hundred citizens to heatstroke, mostly old people, but in Urbs it was over a thousand. We conferred with the Ayuntamiento then, Calde Silk, my husband, and I. It wasn't a formal meeting, but it lasted for hours and we learned a great deal, as did Calde Silk, I feel sure."

Pig swallowed. "Calde yet call him."

"Yes, he retains the title even though he's out of office, just as I do. Just as I retain my rank of general, for that matter, though I'm not on duty or fit for it."

Honeysuckle carried in a steaming tray.

"Horn, do you remember what I told you long ago about the tunnels? How they carry warm air to the surface of the whorl and return cooler air to the interior?"

He nodded.

"Spider explained it to me while I was his prisoner. He had learned it from Councilor Potto, and Potto had learned it from Tarsier. The meeting was Silk's idea, as I should have said, and he told us about a tunnel he'd seen that was entirely blocked with water. There are others, far too many, that have collapsed and are blocked with stones and earth."

"That's why it gets too hot?" Hound asked. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Why ther wee folk douses yer glim." Pig helped himself to a handful of fragrant roast pork.

"If that means what I think, you're both right," Mint told Hound. "Heat accumulates, our summers are much too hot and our winters too mild. To keep things from getting worse, Pas blows out the sun. We didn't know that then, but the gods have told us since, and so have the godlings.

"What was I was going to say was that I made two decisions at that conference. The first was that we wouldn't let anyone else leave the whorl. And the second was that we would put crews to work clearing the tunnels under Viron, directed by Councilor Tarsier. I said I made those decisions, and I did. But we all agreed, even Silk."

"We had lost too many people already," Bison explained. "If Trivigaunte had resumed the war, we would have fallen like ripe fruit. The darkness was even worse. It had everybody terrified. Clearing the tunnels may have helped, and we got Urbs to do it too. Whether it's helped or not, at least it lets everybody feel that we're doing something."

Mint smiled again. "Trivigaunte declared a victory. It was unexpected, but very welcome. They said we had capitulated to the will of Sphigx. So we said we had, too, and it would have been difficult for them to attack us after that. Why are you shaking your head, Horn? Don't you believe me?"

"Yes." He moved a lettuce leaf on his plate so as to obscure Scylla's likeness and laid down his emblazoned silver fork. "Yes, of course. I would believe you even if you said things a thousand times more fantastic than that. I was thinking that it can't be the way things are now. People are boarding landers again to go to Blue or Green. They've got to be."

"They are," Mint said. "We-"

Bison interrupted her. "Why do you say that?"

"General Mint said the gods had told you that Pas puts out the sun, and that a godling had confirmed it. I, too, have spoken with a godling. Having newly returned to this Long Sun Whorl, I may perhaps have regarded the conversation as less extraordinary than it was."

"A huge one," Hound told them. "He sat in its hand. It bent its fingers up to keep the rain off."

"None of which matters at all. What does matter is what it saidwhat it told me."

"Silk talk!" Oreb suggested.

"Yes, he does. Too much at times, and doesn't eat enough. These are excellent rolls." He took another, and buttered it.

Mint asked, "Isn't your name Horn?"

He glanced at her. "Of course it is. Oh, that. Oreb calls me that, that's all. He's accustomed to calling his master Silk, it seems; and he considers me his master now. No doubt he'll return to Patera Silk when we find him. Oreb seems to be looking for him, too."

Bison said, "What did the godlings say to you? I'm waiting to hear that."

"And I'm waiting to hear where Silk is. I should offer to trade information. In fact, I do. I'll tell you, of course, whether we trade or not-as calde you have a right to know. But will you tell me? As a reward for being open with you?"

"Yes," Mint said.

Bison sighed. "My wife has a habit of committing us to more than we can do. I don't know where Calde Silk's living at present, although I could probably find out. My ignorance is intentional. If I explain, will that be enough?"

"I'd prefer you do more," he said.

"Then I'll try. My wife told you how she became calde. The darkdays began shortly afterward, and the first godling came."

"I understand."

"Here's what she was leading up to. We think the man who shot her may have done it because he thought Silk would be calde again if she died. There's a feeling-"

"It's not widespread," Mint told them, "but it's there."

"A feeling among a few people that the gods are angry at Viron because he's no longer calde."

Pig rumbled, "Wanted ter gang, mistress said."

"He resigned his office voluntarily," Mint affirmed, "just as I told you. He didn't even ask me whether I'd accept it. That may have been wise of him, because I don't think I would have. As it was, I was fool enough to take it when he named me as his successor."

Bison told her, "You had to. They'd have rioted."

"I suppose. I can only thank the gods, as I do, that I had the good sense to resign after I was shot, and to use my wound as an excuse."

"Your wound was very severe."

"It kept me from sitting at my desk." She smiled. "I can joke about it now, you see, and say that I got terribly tired of lying on my stomach. But the shot broke my right hip, and I pray for the day when I can joke about that as well. Horn, you said people were leaving in landers again."

He nodded.

"You were right. A lot of people want Silk back. Some simply feel that Silk is the calde the gods want. Others think Silk was right, that the gods want us to keep sending people outside. I stopped it. I ordered a complete cessation, and had my Guards seize every lander. Pas had put soldiers down there to protect them originally. Did you know that?"

"Aye," Pig said.

Hound shook his head. "Well, I didn't. Did you, Horn?"

"Yes. Silk told me about one, and later we found the bodies of others in the tunnels. They'd been painted blue, not green like ours. They had been shot with slug guns."

"As I was not. He had a needler." Mint's smile turned bitter. "He wouldn't have been able to get a slug gun that close. Where was I?"

Hound said, "About having the Calde's Guard take charge of the landers. I've never even seen one. I suppose I'm the only one here who hasn't."

"Nae me," Pig declared, and Oreb seconded him: "No see."

"The soldiers Pas had posted there so long ago were killed by men who wanted to steal the cards they knew were in the landers. We replaced them with our own. Five soldiers to each lander. Wasn't that it, dear?"

Bison nodded.

"When I was shot, my husband wanted to punish everyone who had expressed a desire to go-"

"The ones who had demonstrated and signed petitions," Bison said. "That had started after the first darkday, and I'd gone to a lot of trouble to find out who the organizers were, and then who the rest were. The Chapter was behind a lot of it."

"Good Silk!" Oreb exclaimed. "No cut!"

He nodded. "I'm not surprised."

"Pas had spoken to the Prolocutor, supposedly," Bison told them. "The usual cant."

"At any rate," Mint said, "we decided it was best to defuse the unrest as much as we could." She glanced toward Bison for confirmation, and he nodded.

"It would have been terrible to have to arrest all those people. We would have had another revolution-"

Bison snorted.

"Oh, we would have won," she said. "I agree completely about that. But what a victory! Having killed the people we should have led, we could go around congratulating ourselves."

"You decided to allow some people to go-to do the will of Pas, if you'll allow the expression."

Bison said, "Certainly. It was just that we didn't feel that it was Pas's will to destroy Viron, and we had reached that point. Under Silk so many had left that the city was about to collapse. That was why he had to go."

"Then you can't object to my taking him to Blue-but you don't know where he-"

"Lives. Exactly. And you're not the only one looking for him, Horn. Are you aware of that?"

He shrugged. "I know some men came to Ermine's last night. That was where we stayed, and supposedly-I admit I find this hard to credit-Silk was there, too."

Bison nodded. "They beat the desk clerk. They demanded that he tell them which room Silk had, and he said quite honestly that Ermine's had no guest of that name and showed them his register. They beat him pretty badly, and roamed through the corridors until the Guard chased them out."

"Bad men?" Oreb inquired.

"You didn't arrest them?"

"We tried."

Mint said, "I haven't heard of this. What do they want with Calde Silk?"

"To take him to Blue. So they say."

Mint pursed her lips and looked thoughtful.

Hound told Bison, "We heard the disturbance outside our room, and a shot."

"Three, 'twas." Pig's big hands were groping the snowy tablecloth for more food.

Mint nudged a platter of venison madere until it was within his reach. "You said New Viron had sent you, Horn, and that you have been gone for nearly a year. Is it possible New Viron sent them out, too? When you didn't come back?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "It's possible, but I doubt it. I think I saw one talking to the clerk at Ermine's. He wasn't dressed like one of us; and though there are some very foreign-looking people in New Viron now, I don't believe they would have sent someone like that for Patera Silk."

Bison said, "They've got a lander. They came in one, and they've set a guard on it. If you can find Silk…" He glanced at Mint.

"Here Silk!" Oreb sounded annoyed.

"You may be right." Mint nodded. "That's another thing we have to talk about, the ghosts. But let's dispose of this first. May I speak without interruption for one actual minute?"

Hound said, "Please do."

"Then I'll say that it's still more possible my husband's correct. Ycu want to take Silk to Blue, and so do these strange men. If you have Silk and they have their lander, it's possible that some accommodation-"

Bison nodded. "We could take their lander, you understand. I don't know how many men they have guarding it, but it doesn't seem likely there's more than twenty or thirty. A dozen soldiers could take it, but it would mean we'd have to let another lander full of people leave, and more than that if it came back."

"Horn's shaking his head again, darling. What's the matter, Horn? Do you think we ought to send more people to your town on Blue, even if we have to kill to do it?"

"Just the opposite. You shouldn't permit anyone to go. That was the message the godling gave me, and what I promised to tell you, hoping you'd tell me where Silk is in return."

"Pah!" Bison leaned back in his chair. "This changes everything. I have to think."

Mint said, "Good. I'll have a real chance to talk while you're doing it, and I may be able to accomplish something. Did the godling tell you why, Horn?"

He shook his head.

"They never do." There was something trumpet-like in her soft, sweet voice, a distant trumpet summoning scattered troops. "If it told you anything more, anything that we should hear or can hear, I'd like to hear it right now."

"It told me that I was to proclaim its message here in Viron, its message being that no more were to go. Pig and Hound have heard all this."

"They can stand to hear it again, I'm sure. Have you proclaimed it?"

He tugged with some irritation at his thin, pale beard. "I felt that my task was to find Silk and bring him back-to do the thing I have promised to do. I felt that the godling had no right to give me orders, no matter who or what he may represent. But I haven't found Silk-"

Mint shook her head.

"I haven't, and I'm beginning to believe that may be why-that as long as I refuse to obey, I will not."

Bison said, "There may be some truth in it."

Mint nodded. "In which case, you're nearer to finding him already. You've told us. And these friends, for that matter. Proclaiming would be too strong a word for what you've done so far, but it would seem you're moving in the right direction."

"Thank you. Thank you very, very much." There were tears in his eyes.

"You think my husband's cheated you. I could hear it in your voice a few moments ago."

"No talk!"

"Oreb's right-I shouldn't say what you're suggesting. But if you could hear it, I don't have to."

"He told you the truth. He doesn't know where Silk's living now, and neither do I. After what I've told you about the man who shot me, you should be able to understand that. Quite a few people want Silk back-"

Bison leaned forward again; one thick hand struck the table. "He made my wife calde, and she's made me calde. We've explained all that."

Hound nodded vigorously. "You certainly have."

"So I say to you what I've said before to any number of people. If Silk were to come to me and ask me to resign the office, designating him, I would do it that day."

Mint laid her hand, small and very white, upon Pig's. "You're Horn's friend, and you're concerned about him, I know that, and it does you credit."

"So am I," Hound said.

"I feel sure you are. Horn, you must understand that Silk has friends, too. Not only personal friends, like Pig and Hound are to you, but what might be called public friends, people who love him and supported him. They're very protective of him."

"Such ken yer maun do fer him, mistress?"

"Does that mean know? If it does, they don't. Because we wouldn't. We're friends of Silk's. But many believe we might. Or if they don't believe it, they fear it. Some of them have hidden him away, probably out in the country."

Hound said, "Well, it seems to me that if you were really his friends, he would tell you where."

Mint shook her head. "He hasn't. Because, you see, he is our friend, too. If we knew, and it were known we knew…"

"You might be shot again," Hound said. "I see."

"Yes, or my husband might be shot. Or we both might be poisoned, or whatever you like. Horn, have you noticed that he never said he did not know where Silk was? He said he did not know where he was living. He's been hidden away by the Prolocutor, I believe."

Bison rose. "I need to talk to him. You must excuse me, darling, gentlemen. I'll see if my glass can find him."

As Bison left, Mint said, "He wants to find out where it is for you, I suppose-"

"Good man!" Oreb announced his approval.

"I doubt that's wise," Mint continued pensively, "but I doubt even more that His Cognizance will tell him. He might offer to provide a guide, but that's not likely to do much good. May I tell you about our little ghost? That might be helpful."

With a satisfied grunt, Pig pushed his plate away. "Wish yer would."

"I will. This palace, as I'm sure you understand, was built in the days of Viron's prosperity, when it had more people and far more money. After the death of Calde Tussah, it was shut up. Councilor Lemur, who was the real ruler of the city when I was a child and a young woman, dared neither to declare himself calde nor to hold an election he might have lost. He contented himself with actual power, and let the trappings of power go. This palace remained vacant for about thirty years."

"Calde Silk reopened it," Hound informed Pig.

"He did. He and my friend Marble lived here at first, with her granddaughter, a Flier whose friends had been killed by the Trivigauntis, and some others. Did you live here too, Horn? I know you were with him then. Did you go home at night?"

He shook his head. "We ate here and slept in one of the rooms upstairs."

"Of which there are a great many. The first floor is devoted to public rooms like this one. There's a ballroom, a huge sellaria, the reception room you saw, and the library. And kitchens, sculleries, pantries, and so on. My husband and I sleep in a suite on the next floor, and there are more for guests, quite a lot of them. Above them are rooms for aides, maids, attendants, ladies-in-waiting, valets, and the rest of it. Above that is another floor with rooms for the palace staff. They're small and I've never counted them, but there must be nearly a hundred. Our own staff isn't anywhere near that large. Neither was Calde Silk's when he and his wife lived here."

Hound asked whether some of the rooms were haunted, and Mint favored him with a smile. "They all are, if you want to call it that. Our little ghost is most often met with in the rooms we use most, but that's probably just because there is someone to see her in those. Do you have a comment to give us, Horn?"

"Silk talk!" Oreb demanded.

"Only that you haven't talked about the topmost floor, General."

She nodded. "Because I haven't been up there. I have to be carried up and down the stairs now, so I'll probably never go. I've been told that it's a perfect warren of storerooms filled with all sorts of stuff. I haven't mentioned our cellars either, for the same reason. There are nine or ten cellars on three levels."

"Knew a hizzie 'twas frighted by a ghaist h'in a cote h'in ther lightlands," Pig rumbled.

Mint smiled again. "But that ghost was a spirit, I'm sure. Ours is material. Or at least I think she is. She walks like I do to mock me, which suggests she might be a devil. I really can't believe that, however, though some devils are material. But she takes things, and she's been known to leave footprints in dust and snow. I told you so much about this palace, because I wanted you to understand why our searches have failed thus far. Do you, Horn?"

He nodded, to which Oreb added, "Yes, yes!"

"Good. If any of you would like to tour this floor when we're through here, I'll take you around and tell you as much as I know about the rooms and furnishings."

Hound said eagerly, "I would. Very much."

"Auld Pig'll push yer, mistress. Proud ter."

"Then we shall do it, and that's a promise. Horn has seen them already, I know. Perhaps he might enjoy seeing them again."

He nodded, and for Pig's sake added, "Yes. Certainly."

"I've been calling our little ghost `her,' and none of you have challenged it. Do you want to, Horn?"

"No." He was no longer looking at Mint's small, almost colorless face, but at the room itself, half expecting to see Olivine peeping around some corner. Mucor's death's-head stare mingled with the reflections in the glass covering a picture, but faded to nothing as he watched it.

"She wears a skirt of some rough cloth," Mint was saying, "and covers her head with a shawl or scarf. So she looks female, and we assume she is. My husband thinks she is a child from one of the houses nearby who disguises herself and slips in now and then. My own guess is that she's a beggar girl who took up residence while the palace was empty and has chosen to remain. The fact that our searches have failed to find her weighs on my husband's side, I confess. Have you theories of your own?"

No one spoke. Hound shook his head.

"Horn? You were recommended to Pig by another ghost, as we heard a few minutes ago. You must have some conjecture."

Oreb croaked, "Silk talk!" impatiently.

"I have nothing to say," he told Mint, "beyond the comment that both the theories you've outlined seem implausible to me. You challenge me, very justly, to put forward a better one; but I can't."

Mint raised her eyebrows. "You have no idea whether she's female or not?"

"Why, no. If everyone who has seen her thinks her female, I would think it highly probable she is."

Beside him Pig muttered, "Have a care, bucky."

Hound said, "If she's material, not a real ghost, you might set a trap for her. My wife and I have a little shop in Endroad, and we sell them there, traps for animals, I mean. I can give you the name of a man who'll make you a bigger one."

Mint shook her head. "That would be cruel. I would much rather have a ghost to talk about than catch a child in a trap. But I haven't told you the most interesting part so far. She was seen again yesterday."

"Fient!"

"Yes, she was, Pig. By our cook. And she had Silk's ghost with her. Horn?"

"It still sounds as though you're saying Silk is dead."

"I'm not. Our cook, you must understand, thinks our little ghost is a real ghost, the spirit of someone who left this life without attaining Mainframe. All the servants-"

Bison, returning to his chair, shook his head. "I don't believe in ghosts."

"I didn't say you did, darling, I said they do. As it happens, I believe in them myself. But not in ghosts who steal and leave footprints."

Bison said, "We don't see her for months. Then somebody hears her walking on the floor above and it starts all over again. We hear her a lot more than we see her, really."

Mint nodded. "I was about to say, Horn, that even though I believe in ghosts, I don't believe in this one. And since our limping child isn't a real ghost, I doubt that Silk was a ghost either. I think it was the living Calde Silk our cook saw. Were you able to reach His Cognizance, darling? You were at it long enough. What did he say?"

Bison hitched his high-backed armchair nearer the table. "Don't you want to finish with the ghost first?"

"I'm nearly finished. I was going to say that Silk wasn't wearing his robe. He comes to this palace in lay clothing quite often, so that isn't surprising. A calde, even a former one, has to be extremely careful. At any rate, he was wearing ordinary clothes, according to our cook. But they must have been very dirty. She said they looked as though he'd escaped his grave."

"Did he have…?" Hound pointed to Oreb.

"No bird?"

Mint shook her head. "In a robe, with his famous pet upon his shoulder, he would have been recognized by everyone. With neither, he was still recognized by our cook, who used to be his. She must have seen him every day then, or very nearly. Wouldn't you say she sees you about that often, darling?"

Bison nodded.

"After I became calde, he and Hyacinth were often here as our guests. Shall I bring the cook in so you can question her yourselves?"

"Nae fer me, mistress."

"What do you think, Hound? Should I bring her in?"

With more spirit than might have been expected, Hound said, "I think we should all be open and honest for a change."

Oreb flapped his applause. "Silk talk!"

"Very well," he said, "I will begin. You know, obviously, that it was I and not Calde Silk your cook saw. It was. If you want to bring her in and have her identify me, go ahead."

Mint said, "No."

"As you wish." He was about to mention the gardener, but reflected that the old man had not betrayed him; the least he could do was to reciprocate. "You want me to tell you who your ghost is. I understand that-I'd feel the same way in your place. But she reposed her trust in me, thinking I was Patera Silk; and I intend to keep faith with her."

Bison said, "She thought you were Silk."

He nodded. "I just said so."

"So does the Prolocutor. He wants you to sacrifice in the Grand Manteion this afternoon."

"I've told you I'm not an augur."

Mint said, "You would be assisting him, I would imagine," and Bison nodded.

Pig pushed back his chair. "Best gang, bucky, an' yer weel nae. Bide, an' she'll make fast."

"But we hope he will," Bison said, "and if he will there's no reason he shouldn't remain. I ask it as a favor to me, and to my wife."

"So do I," Mint declared.

"Gang h'or bide, bucky?" Pig's big hand found his forearm.

He shrugged. "Bide. I've honored General Mint since I was a boy. I can't refuse her now."

"Good!" Bison poured himself more wine. "Your friend Hound says we ought to be more honest, so here's my contribution. I knew about this when you came to my office. That is to say, I knew that the Chapter has been looking for you and that it was because the Prolocutor had heard you were here and wanted you for manteion this afternoon. I didn't want you to do it, and so-"

Hound interrupted. "Why not?"

"Because I thought he was going to tell everybody to get on landers. We've had too much of that already. Besides, I don't have landers to give them. A couple, actually, but they're not in working order. It would cost more than the city can spare to send them off." Bison sipped his wine. "But he's not going to say that. Are you?"

"No." He sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm going to tell them what the godling told me, which is that they are to remain. That Pas-well, never mind. I'll tell them to stay, and ask their help in finding Silk."

"Silk here," Oreb declared testily.

Mint nodded. "You said our little ghost mistook you for Calde Silk."

"Yes," he said. "She did." He recalled the gardener again and added, "It happens fairly frequently."

"I dare say. Darling, I should let you finish, but I'll do it for you. Possibly I can save you embarrassment. You were going to confess, weren't you, that you arranged this luncheon to get our guests out of the Prolocutor's reach? You were going to keep them here on one pretext or another until his sacrifice was over. Isn't that right?"

Bison grunted assent.

"Very well." Mint raised a shirred oyster halfway to her mouth, then laid her fork aside. "We've had Horn's honesty and my husband's. I don't think Oreb has to unburden his conscience. He's been entirely open from the beginning. I'll go next, and after that it will be Hound's turn, and Pig's. I intend to require it of you both, gentlemen, so be warned."

"Nae meself fashes me, mistress," Pig rumbled.

"Here then is my confession,"Mint continued. "Horn, you said our ghost mistook you for Calde Silk, and implied that our cook did as well. You say such mistakes happen often."

"Yes."He was looking around again, not for Olivine or Mucor this time, but because he wanted to see the room itself.

(I'll never come here again, he thought. Soon we'll go to the Grand Manteion, and I'll assist. I don't know where we'll go after that, perhaps back to Ermine's or the Juzgado, but we won't come back here. I'll walk out the big door, the troopers will shut it behind me, and I'll never see this any more.)

"Were you on Blue before you came here? You were sent out from there, you said, and you talk about taking Silk there."

He shook his head. "I was on Green. I spent nearly a year there; but I came there from Blue. We've a house-you'd call it a cot tage-on the south end of Lizard Island, near the Tail. A house and a mill. I used to have a boat, too, though I'm afraid that's gone forever."

"I must ask you this. It may be cruel. I think it is, but I have to. Were mistakes of this kind common when you were on Green? Did people there sometimes call you Silk, for example?"

He shook his head again. "I doubt that any of them had ever seen Silk-or knew his name, unless they had heard it from me."

"New Viron must have been settled by people from here. Its name implies that. There must be many people there who've heard of Calde Silk, and some who saw him at one time or another. Did they mistake you for Silk, Horn? Did that ever happen?"

"No," he said. And then, when no one else spoke, added, "I know what you're going to say."

"Do you? Then why don't you say it yourself and save me the trouble."

Oreb took up the word. "Say Silk!"

He ate instead, hoping that someone else would speak.

"Pig and Hound know. Are you aware of that? They have from the beginning. I asked Pig to push my chair, and as soon as we were out of earshot I explained to him that I had taught Horn, and seen him in my classroom every day."

"No see!" Oreb commented. "No boy."

"My husband told me you were calling yourself Horn when we talked on our glasses, but he thought it was to deceive the men with you. He had fallen in with the imposition, and suggested I fall in with it, too. I did, but soon came to suspect that you believed it yourself. I asked Pig, and he confirmed it. You had never been trying to deceive him, Silk. Neither had you tried to deceive Hound. You have only been trying to deceive yourself, and now even that is at an end."

"You've never had any of the pickled pilchards," he told Pig. "Would you like a couple? I'm going to try them myself."

"Horn went." Mint's face was grim. "He carried out the Plan of Pas, as we did not. It has cost me sleepless nights, Calde. It has cost you a great deal more, I'm afraid. Horn incurred no guilt. You would be rid of yours, if you could, just as I would prefer to be rid of mine. But you cannot rid yourself of it like this."

"Thank yer, bucky. Thank yer kin'ly."

Having added three pickled pilchards to Pig's plate, he forked two more onto his own. "I know I look like Patera Silk, but I also know who I am," he said. "No one, not even you, Maytera, can make a man who knows who he is believe that he is someone else."