"Thank you," he managed at last. "If I can be of any service to Your--to
you, I will be only too happy to oblige you." He counted them by
touch: seven cards.
"They came to the Palace. To the--ah--Palace itself, if you can,
um, credit that." His visitor sat with his head in his hands. "I was,
um, dining. At dinner. In came a, ah, page, eh? One of the boys
who runs with messages for us, hey? You do that?"
"No. I know of them, of course."
"Some of us did, eh? I, myself. Many years ago. We--ah--matriculate
to schola. Ah--afterwards. Some of us. Fat little boy.
Not I. He was. Is. Said they'd arrest me. Arrest His Cognizance! I
said, ah, balderdash. Ate my sweet, eh? They--um--arrived.
Unannounced. Officer--um--captain, lieutenant, something.
Troopers with him, Guardsmen everywhere, eh? Looked everywhere for
His Cog--Turned the whole place upside down. Couldn't
find him though. Took me. Bound my hands. Me! Hands tied
behind me under my robe."
"I'm very sorry," Silk said sincerely.
"They, er, carried me to the headquarters of the Second Brigade.
A temporary headquarters. Do I make myself--ah--intelligible?
Brigadier's house. No more--ah--titular generals in the Civil
Guard, hey? No generalissimo any more. Only this, er, brigadiers.
Quizzed me, eh? Hours and hours. Absolutely. Old Quetzal's
letter, hey? You know about it?"
"Yes, I've seen it."
"I--ah--composed it. I didn't--ah--inform the brigadier, eh?
Didn't 'fess up. Would have shot me, eh? We--ah--I'd expected
trouble. Labored to phrase it softly. His--He wouldn't hear of it."
His visitor looked around at Silk with the expression of a whipped
hound, his breath thick with wine. "You apprehend whom I--ah--intend?"
"Of course."
"He sent it back. Twice. Hadn't happened in years, eh? The third
stuck. 'How readily here might I, ah, inscribe--' Yes, inscribe. Ah,
'Let us welcome him and obey him as one of ourselves. With what
delight do--shall I inscribe in its place, let us welcome him and, ump,
obey him, for he is one of ourselves!" That's what got the third draft past
His--ah--past the person known to us both, eh? So I--um--presume.
Proud of it, hey? Still am. Still am."
"With reason," Silk told him. "But the Civil Guard can't have
cared for it. I'm surprised they let you go." He yawned and rubbed
his eyes, discovering that he felt somewhat better, refreshed by his
few moments of sleep.
"Talked my way out, hey? Eloquent. No one speaks of me like
that. Dull at the ambion, eh? What they say. I know, I know.
Eloquent tonight, though. Swim or sink, and I did Pa--I did. Go
between. Peacemaker. End rebellion. Used their glass to talk to
Councillor Loris. Harmless, ump! Let him go. Bad feeling in the
ranks, hey? Augurs shot, eh? A sibyl, too. The--um--missive. Lay
clothing, as you, er, wise. Fearful still. Terribly frightened. Not, er,
shamed by the accusation--admission. Still afraid, sitting in there
sipping. Looking over my shoulder, hey? Afraid they'd come for
me. Sprang up like a rabbit when a porter dropped something in the
street."
"I suppose that every man is frightened when his life is threatened.
It's very much to Your--to your credit that you are willing to admit it."
"You will--ah--assist me? If you can?"
Oreb looked up from his fishing. "Watch out!"
"I'm tired and very weak," Silk said, "but yes, I will. Will we have
to walk far?"
"Won't have to walk at all." His visitor thrust his hand beneath his
cream-colored tunic. "I've, ah, informed you it wasn't me they
wanted, eh? After old Quetzal, actually. The Prolocutor. His
Cognizance. Signed the letter, hey?"
Silk nodded.
"They'd have shot him, eh? Earlier. Earlier. When they--ah--constrained
me. That was then, hum? This is--er--the present
instant. After midnight. Nearly one, eh? Nearly one. Late when
they released me. I've said it? Suppertime--after suppertime,
really. They know your--um--profession. Vocation, hey? Mint's a
sibyl. You take my meaning?"
"Of course," Silk said.
His visitor produced an elegant ostrich-skin pen case. "On the
other side, old Quetzal is, hey? Unmistakable. The letter shows it.
And there is that--ah, um--other matter. Vocation, eh? Brigadier
thinks he and I might arrange an--urp--hiatus in hostilities. A
truce, hey? His word. Been one alread, eh? So why not?"
Silk straightened up. "There has? That's wonderful!"
"Little thing, eh? Few hundred involved. Didn't last. But an augur--see
the connection? This augur, one of our--ah--of the Chapter's
own, crossed the lines. One side to the other, eh? Got them to stop
shooting so he could. Colonel's son, wounded. Nearly dead. This--ah--holy
augur brought him the Pardon. So far so good? Rebels--ah--tendered an
extension. Both sides, um, sweep up bodies. Claim
their dead, hey? They did. So why not longer? Old Quetzal might
do it. Respected by both sides. Man of peace. You follow me?"
Silk nodded to himself.
"If your, ah, supporters learn the brigadier sent me, eh? What
then? Shoot, eh? Possibly. Very possibly. So I require some, um,
document from you, Pa--From, ah, you. Signed," the visitor's voice
faded to a whisper, "with your--ah--as the--um--your civil
title."
"I see. Certainly."
"Capital!" He took a sheaf of paper from the pen case. "These, um,
fanciful leathers are not--ah--conducive to penmanship. But the
paper should help, hey? I'll hold the ink bottle for you. Brief, ah,
inconsiderable. Concise. The, um, bearer, eh? Respect his--ah--um..."
"No shoot," Oreb suggested.
He handed Silk a quill. "Point suit you? Not too fine, eh? My
prothonotary, Pa--Incus. You know him?"
"I met him once when I was trying to see you."
"Ah? Hm."
The pen case braced on both knees, Silk dipped the quill.
"He--ah--Incus. He points them for me. Had him do it, ah,
Molpsday. Too fine, though. Hairsplitters. I shall rid myself of
Incus, ah, presently. Could be dead this moment. 'Mongst the gods,
eh? Haven't laid eyes on him for days. Gave him a--um--errand.
Never came back. All this unrest."
Bent above the paper, Silk hardly heard him.
<blockquote>
To General Mint, her officers and troopers.
The bearer, Patera Rernora, is authorized by me and by...
</blockquote>
Silk looked up. "To whom did you speak? Who was this brigadier
who released you?"
"Brigadier, er, Erne. Signed for me, too, eh? His side."
<blockquote>
Brigadier Erne to negotiate a truce. Please show him every
courtesy.
</blockquote>
The wavering tip of the quill stopped and began to blot; there
seemed to be no more to say. Silk forced it to move on.
<blockquote>
If the whereabouts of His Cognizance the Prolocutor are
known to you, please conduct the bearer to him in order that
he may assist His Cog
nizance in conducting negotiations.
</blockquote>
Oreb dropped a struggling goldfish and pinned it with one foot. "No
shoot," he repeated. "Man hide."
<blockquote>
I hold you responsible for the safety of the bearer, and that
of His Cognizance. Both are to be permitted to pass
unharmed. Their movements are not to be restricted in any
fashion.
A truce made and kept in good faith is greatly to be
desired.
I am Pa. Silk, of Sun Street, Calde
</blockquote>
"Capital! Yes, capital, Pa--Thank you!"
With his beak pointed to the glass roof, Oreb gulped down a
morsel of goldfish and announced loudly, "Good man!"
"There is a--um--dispenser in here someplace." The visitor
retrieved his pen case and took out a silver shaker. "If you require
sand, eh?"
Silk shuddered, added the date, blew upon the paper, then spat
congealing blood into the moss at his feet.
"I thank you. I have--ah--so expressed myself, um, previously. I,
er, recognize. I am, um, in your, ah, books, eh? Your debtor."
Silk handed him the safe-conduct.
"I, ah, surmise that I can stand now, er, walk. All the rest.
Taken a bit dizzy there, eh? For an, er, momentarily." He
climbed to his feet, holding tightly to the chain from which their
seat was suspended. "I shall partake of an, er, morsel of food, I
believe. An, um, collation. Much as I should like--ah--may be
imprudent..."
"I had a good supper," Silk told him, "and it might be dangerous
for us to be seen together. I'll stay here."
"I, um, consider it would be best myself." His visitor released the
chain and smiled. "Better, hey? Be all right with a bite to eat. Too
much wine. I--ah--concede it. More than I ought. Frightened, but
the wine made it worse. To think that we, ump, we pay--" He fell
silent. Slowly his smile widened to a death's-head rictus. "Hello,
Silk," he said. "They made me find you."
Silk nodded wearily. "Hello, Mucor."
"It's smoky in here. All smoky."
For a moment he did not understand what she meant.
"Dark, Silk. Like falling down steps."
"The fumes of the wine, I suppose. Who made you find me?"
"The councillors will burn me again."
"Torture, unless you do as they say?" Silk tried to keep the anger
he felt out of his voice. "Do you know their names, these councillors
who threaten to burn you?"
The visitor's grinning head bobbed. "Loris. Tarsier. Potto. My
father said not, but the soldier made him go."
"I see. His Eminence--the man you're possessing--told me he'd
talked with Councillor Loris through a glass. Is that why you
possessed him when you were sent to look for me?"
"I had to. They burned me like Musk."
"Then you were right to obey, to keep from being burned again. I
don't blame you at all."
"We're going to kill you, Silk."
Foliage beside the pool shook, spraying crystal droplets as warm
as blood; a white-haired man stepped into view. In one hand be held
a silver-banded cane with which he had parted the leaves. The other
poised a saber, its slender blade pointed at the visitor's heart.
"Don't!" Silk told him.
"No stick," Oreb added with the air of one who clarifies a difficult
situation.
"You're Silk yourself, lad! You're him!"
"I'm afraid I am. If you left your place of concealment to protect
me, I would be somewhat safer if you didn't speak quite so loudly."
Silk turned his attention back to the death-mask that had supplanted
his visitor's face. "Mucor, how are you supposed to kill me? This
man has Musk's needler now; he followed me here to return it to
me, I imagine. Do you--does the man you're possessing have a
weapon?"
"I'll tell them, and they'll come."
"I see. And if you won't, they'll burn you."
The visitor's head bobbed again. "It brings me back. I can't stay
gone when they burn me."
"We must get you out of there." Silk raised the ankle he had
broken jumping from Hyacinth's window and rubbed it. "I've said
you're like a devil--I told Doctor Crane that, I know. I thought it,
too, when I saw the dead sleepers; I forgot that devils, who torment
others, are themselves tormented."
The saber inched forward. "Shall I kill him, lad?"
"No. He's as good a chance for peace as our city has, and I doubt
that killing him would ensure Mucor's silence. You can do no good
here."
"I can protect you, lad!"
"Before I left you, I knew that I'd meet Hierax tonight." Silk's face
was somber. "But there's no reason for you to die with me. If you've
tracked me through half the city to return the needler I dropped,
give it to me and go."
"This, too!" He held out the silver-banded cane. "Lame, aren't
you? Lame when we fought! Take it!" He threw the cane to Silk,
then drew Musk's needler and tossed it into Silk's lap as well.
"You're the calde, lad? The one they tell about?"
"I suppose I am."
"Auk told me! How'd I forget that? Gave your name! I didn't
know until this augur said it. Councillors! Loris? Going to kill you?"
"And Potto and Tarsier." Silk laid Musk's needler aside, thought
better of it, and put it into his waistband. "I'm glad that you brought
that up. I'd lost sight of it, and it strains probability. Mucor, do you
you can."
"All right."
"Thank you. First, did Councillor Loris tell you about the man
you're possessing? Did he ask you to find him?"
"I know him, Silk. He talks to the man who's not there."
"To Pas, you mean. Yes, he does, I'm sure. But Loris told you.
Did he say why?"
The visitor's head shook. "I have to go soon."
"Go to Maytera Mint first--to General Mint, they're the same
person." Silk's forefinger traced a circle on his cheek. "Tell her
where I am, and that they'll come here to kill me. Then tell Maytera
Marble--"
"Girl go," Oreb remarked.
The corpse-grin was indeed fading. Silk sighed again and rose.
"Sheath that sword, please. We've no need of it."
"Possession? That's what you call this, lad?"
"Yes. He'll come to himself in a moment."
Silk's visitor caught hold of the chain to steady himself. "You
proferred a comment, Pa--? I was taken, ah, vertiginous again, I
fear. Please accept my--um--unreserved apology. This--ah--gentleman
is..."
"Master Xiphias. Master Xiphias teaches the sword, Your Eminence.
Master Xiphias, this is His Eminence Patera Remora,
Coadjutor of the Chapter."
"Really, ah, Patera, you might be more circumspect, hey?"
Silk shook his head. "We're past all that, I'm afraid, Your
Eminence. You're in no danger. I doubt that you ever were. My
own is already so great that it wouldn't be much greater if you
and Master Xiphias were to run up to the first Guardsman you
could find and declare that Calde Silk was at
Ermine's awaiting arrest."
"Really! I--ah--"
"You spoke to Councillor Loris, so you told me, through Brigadier
Erne's glass."
"Why, er, yes."
"For a moment--while you were dizzy, Your Eminence--I
thought that Loris might have told you where to find me; that a
certain person in the household he's visiting had told him that I
might be here, or had confided in someone else who did. It could
have come about quite innocently--but it can't be true, since Loris
sent someone to you in order to locate me. Clearly the information
traveled the other way: you knew that I might come here tonight. I
doubt that you actually told Loris that you knew where to find me;
you couldn't have been that certain I'd be here. You said something
that led him to think you knew, however. In his place, I'd have
ordered Brigadier Erne to have you followed. Thanks to some
careless remarks of mine Tarsday, he didn't need to. Will you tell
me--quickly, please--how you got your information?"
"I swear--warrant you, Patera--"
"We'll have to talk about it later." Silk stood up less steadily than
Remora had, leaning on the silver-banded cane. "A moment ago I
told Master Xiphias not to kill you; I'm not certain it would have
been wrong for me to have told him to go ahead, but I don't have
time for questions--we must go before the Guard gets here. You,
Master Xiphias, must return home. You're a fine swordsman, but
you can't possibly protect me from a squad of troopers with slug
guns. You, Your Eminence, must go to Maytera Mint. Don't bother
filling your belly. If--"
"Girl come!" Oreb flew to Silk's shoulder, fluttered his wings, and
added, "Come quick!"
For a wasted second, Silk stared at Remora, searching for signs of
Mucor in his face. Hyacinth was in sight before he heard the rapid
pattering of her bare feet on the path of false gems and saw her,
mouth open and dark eyes bright with tears above the rosy
confusion of a gossamer dishabille, her hair a midnight cloud behind
her as she ran.
She stopped. It was as if the sight of him had suspended her in
amber. "You're here! You're really here!"
By Thelxiepeia's spell she was in his arms, suffocating him with
kisses. "I didn't--I knew you couldn't come, but I had to. Had to, or
I'd never know. I'd always think--"
He kissed her, clumsy but unembarrassed, trying to say by his kiss