Calde of the Long Sun

Chapter 10 -- Calde Silk

"Let me go," Maytera Marble insisted Phaesday morning. "They

won't shoot me."

Generalissimo Oosik regarded her through his left eye alone; his

right was concealed by a patch of surgical gauze. He shrugged.

General Saba, the commander from Trivigaunte, pursed pendulous

lips. "We've wasted a shaggy hole too much time on this country

house already, when nobody can say--"

"You're quite wrong, my daughter," Maytera Marble told her

firmly. "Mucor can and does. Our Patera Silk is a prisoner in there,

just as the Ayuntamiento claims."

"Spirits!"

"Only hers, really. I'd never seen anyone possessed until she

began doing it to our students. I find it very upsetting." She

beckoned Horn. "You've made me a white flag? Wonderful! Such a

nice long stick, too. Thank you!"

General Saba snorted.

"You don't like my bringing our boys and girls."

"Children shouldn't have to fight."

"Certainly not." Maytera Marble nodded solemn agreement. "But

they were, and some have been killed. They'd run off with General

Mint, you see, almost all of them. I tried to think who might help me

after Mucor left, and our students were the only ones I could think

of. Horn and a few others are really mature enough already, more

grown up than a great many adults. It got them away from the city,

too, where the worst fighting was." She looked to Oosik for support,

but found none.

"Where it still is," General Saba snapped. "Where the troops we've

got out here are badly needed."

"They were fighting your girls, some of them, as well as our Army,

and some are dead. Have I told you that? Some are dead, some hurt

very badly. Ginger's had her hand blown off, I'm told. No doubt

some of your girls are hurt as well."

"Which is why--"

"You said we're wasting time." Maytera Marble sniffed; she had

acquired a devastating sniff. "I couldn't agree more. It will only

take a minute to shoot me, if they do. Then you can attack at

once. But if they don't, I may be able to talk to the councillors in

there. They can order the Army and the Guards who are still

fighting you--"

"The Second," Oosik supplied.

"Yes, the Second Brigade and our Army." Maytera Marble bowed

in humble appreciation of his information. "Thank you, my son. The

councillors could order them to give up, but no one knows whether

there are really councillors in the Juzgado." Without waiting for a

reply, she accepted the flag from Horn.

"I'm coming with you, Sib."

"You are not!"

He followed her nearly as far as the shattered gate just the same,

ignoring a pterotrooper who shouted for him to stay back, and

watched unhappily as she picked her way through its tumbled stones

and twisted bars, somberly clad but conveniently short-skirted in

Maytera Rose's best habit.

Two dead taluses smoked and guttered on the close-mown

grassway between the gate and the villa. A few steps past the first,

General Saba's adjutant sprawled face down beside her own flag of

truce. Disregarding all three, Maytera Marble cut across the lush

lawn toward the porticoed entrance, keeping well clear of the

fountain to avoid its windblown spray.

This was Bloody's house, she reminded herself, this grand place.

This was where the little man with oily hair had come from, the one

she and Echidna had offered to her. It had been practically

impossible, for a time, for her to remember being Echidna; now the

image of the little man's agonized face had returned, framed by

flame as she forced him down onto the altar fire. Would Divine

Echidna help her now, in gratitude for that sacrifice? The Echidna

she had pictured at prayer over so many years might have condemned

her because of it.

But there had been no shot yet.

No missile. No sounds at all, save the soughing of the wind and

the snapping of the rag on the stick she held. How young she felt,

and how strong!

If she stopped here, if she looked back at Horn, would they shoot,

killing her and waking the children? The children were asleep, most

of them. Or at least they were supposed to be, back there beneath

the leafless mulberries. The summer's unrelenting heat, the desert

heat that she had hated so much, had deserted just when the

children needed it, leaving them to sleep in the deepening chill of an

autumn already half spent, to shiver huddled together like piglets or

puppies in unroofed houses with broken windows and slug-pocked,

fire-scarred walls, though most of them had liked that better than

their studies, they said: had preferred killing Ayuntamientados and

pillaging their dead.

A mottled green face appeared at the window next to the big

door. Only the face, Maytera Marble noted with a little shiver of

relief. No slug gun, and no launcher.

"I've come to see my son, my son," she called. "My son Bloody.

Tell him his mother's here."

Shallow stone steps led up to a wide veranda. Before she put her

foot on the last, the door swung back. Through it she saw soldiers,

and bios in silvered armor. (Bios got up like chems, as she put it to

herself, because chems were braver.) Behind them stood another

bio, tall and red-faced.

"Good morning, Bloody," she said. "Thank you for bringing those

white bunnies. May Kypris smile upon you."

Blood grinned. "You've changed a little, Mama." Some of the

armored men laughed.

"Yes, I have. When we can talk in private, I'll tell you all about it."

"We thought you wanted to cut a deal for Hoppy."

"I do." Maytera Marble surveyed the hall; though she knew little

about art, she suspected that the misty landscape facing her was a

Murtagon. "I want to talk about that. We've knocked down a good

deal of your wall, I'm afraid, Bloody, and I'd like to see your

beautiful house spared."

Two soldiers stood aside, and Blood came to meet her. "So would

I, Mama. I'd like to see us spared, too."

"Is that why you didn't shoot? You killed that poor woman

General Saba sent, so why not me? Perhaps I shouldn't ask."

Blood glanced to his right. "A shag-up over there. _We_ didn't shoot

the fussock with the flag, and I want that settled right now. If there's

a question about it, there's no point in talking. I didn't shoot her,

and didn't tell anybody to. None of the boys did, either, and they

didn't get anybody to do it. Is that clear? Will you say Pas to that,

nothing back?"

Maytera Marble cocked and lifted her head, thus raising an

eyebrow. "Someone shot her from a window of your house, Bloody.

I saw it."

"All right, you saw it, and Trivigaunte's going to make somebody

pay. I don't blame them. What I'm saying is that it shouldn't be me

or the boys. We didn't do it, and that's not open to argument. I want

that settled before the cut."

Maytera Marble put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand,

Bloody. Do you know who did? Will you point them out to us?"

Blood hesitated, his apoplectic face growing redder than ever.

"If..." His eyes shifted toward a soldier almost too swiftly to be

seen. "Yes, absolutely." Several of the armored men muttered agreement.

"In that case it's accepted by our side," Maytera Marble told him.

"I'll report to my principals, Generalissimo Oosik and General

Saba, that you had nothing to do with it and are anxious to testify

against the guilty parties. Who are they?"

Blood ignored the question. "Good. Fine. They won't attack

while I'm talking to you?"

"Of course not." Silently, Maytera Marble prayed that she was

being truthful.

"You'd probably like to sit. I know I would. Come in here, and I

think we can settle this."

He showed her into a paneled drawing room and shut the door

firmly. "My boys are getting edgy," he explained, "and that gets me

edgy around them."

"They're my grandchildren?" Maytera Marble sank into a tapestry

chair too deep and too soft for her. "Your sons?"

"I don't have any. You said you were my mother. I guess you

meant you came to talk for her."

"I am your mother, Bloody." Maytera Marble studied him, finding

traces of her earlier self in his heavy, cunning face, as well as far too

many of his father. "I suppose you've seen me since you found out

who I was or had somebody look at me and describe me, and now

you don't recognize me. I understand. You're my son, just the same."

He grasped the advantage by reflex. "Then you wouldn't want to

see me killed, or would you?"

"No. No, I wouldn't." She let her stick and white flag fall to the

carpet. "If I had been willing to have you die, everything would have

been a great deal easier. Don't you see that? You should. You, of

all people."

She paused, considering. "I was an old woman before you found

out who I was, and I think I must have looked older. I was already

forty when you were born. That's terribly old for a bio mother."

"She came a few times when I was little. I remember her."

"Every three months, Bloody. Once in each season, if I could get

away alone that often. We were supposed to go out out in pairs. and

usually we had to."

"She's dead? My mother?"

"Your foster mother? I don't know. I lost track of her when you

were nine."

"I mean y--! Rose. Maytera Rose, my real mother."

"Me." Maytera Marble tapped her chest, a soft click.

"It was her funeral sacrifice. The other sibyl said so."

"We burned parts of her," Maytera Marble conceded. "But mostly

those were parts of me in her coffin. Of Marble, I mean, though I've

kept her name. It makes things easier, with the children particularly.

And there's still a great deal of my personality left."

Blood rose and went to the window. The dull green turret of a

Guard floater showed above a half-ruined section of wall. "You

mind if I open this?"

"Certainly not. I'd prefer it."

"I want to hear if they start shooting, so I can stop it."

She nodded. "My thought exactly, Bloody. Some of the children

have slug guns, and nearly all the rest have needlers. Perhaps I

should have taken them, but I was afraid we'd need them on the

walk out." She sighed, the weary _hish_ of a mop across a terazzo

floor. "The worst would have hidden theirs anyway, though none of

the children are really bad."

"I remember when she lost her arm," Blood told her. "She used to

pat me on the head and say, you know, my, he's getting big. One

day it was a hand like your--"

"It was this one." Maytera Marble displayed it.

"So I asked her what happened. I didn't know she was my mother

then. She was just a sibyl that came sometimes. My mother would

have tea and cookies."

"Or sandwiches." Maytera Marble supplemented his account.

"Very good sandwiches, too, though I was always careful not to eat

more than a fourth of one. Bacon in the fall, cheese in winter,

pickled burbot and chives on toast in spring, and curds and

watercress in summer. Do you remember, Bloody? We always gave

you one."

"Sometimes it was all I got," Blood said bitterly

"I know. That's why I never ate more than a founh."

"Is that really the same hand?" Blood eyed it curiously.

"Yes, it is, It's hard to change hands yourself, Bloody, because

you have to do it one-handed. It was particularly hard for me,

because by then I already had a great many new parts. Or rather, I

had reclaimed a great many old ones. They worked better, that was

why I wanted them, but I wasn't used to the new assembly yet,

which made changing hands harder. It would have been wasteful to

burn them, though. They were in much better condition than my old

ones."

"Even if it is, I'm not going to call you Mother."

Maytera Marble smiled, lifting her head and inclining it to the

right as she always did. "You have already, Bloody. Out there. You

called me Mama. It sounded wonderful."

When he said nothing, she added, "You said you were going to

open that window. Why don't you?"

He nodded and raised the sash. "That's why I bought your

manteion, do you know about that? I wasn't just a sprat nobody

wanted any more. I had money and influence, and I got word my

mother was dying. I hadn't spoken to her in fifteen, twenty years,

but I asked Musk, and he said if I really wanted to get even it might

be my last chance. I saw the sense in that, so we went, both of us."

"To get even, Bloody?" Maytera Marble lifted an eyebrow.

"It doesn't matter. I was sitting with her, see, and she needed

something, so I sent Musk. Then I said something and called her

Mom, and she said your mother's still alive, I tried to be a mother to

you, Blood, and I swore I wouldn't tell."

Turning from the window to face Maytera Marble, he added, "She

wouldn't, either. But I found out."

"And bought our manteion to torment me, Bloody?"

"Yeah. The taxes were in arrears. I'm real close to the Ayuntamiento.

I guess you know that already or you wouldn't have come

out here shooting."

"You have councillors here, staying with you. Loris, Tarsier, and

Potto. That was one reason I wanted to talk."

Blood shook his head. "Tarsier's gone. Who told you?"

"Like your foster mother, I've sworn not to tell."

"One of my people? Somebody in this house?"

"My lips are sealed, Bloody."

"We'll get into that later, maybe. Yeah, I've got them staying

here. It's not the first time, either. When I found out about you--if

you're who you say you are--I talked to Loris, just one friend to

another, and he let me have it for taxes. Know how much it was?

Twelve hundred and change. I was going to leave you hanging, keep

talking about tearing the whole thing down. Then Silk came out

here. The great Calde Silk himself! Nobody would believe that now,

but he did. He solved my house like a thief. By Phaea, he was a thief."

Maytera Marble sniffed. It was at once a devastating and a

confounding sniff, the sniff of a destroyer of cities and a confronter

of governments; Blood winced, and she enjoyed it so much that she

sniffed again. "So are you, Bloody."

"Lily." Blood swallowed. "Only your Silk's no better, is he? Not a

dog's right better. So I saw a chance to turn a few cards and have a

little fun by making the whole wormy knot of you squirm. I'd got

your manteion for twelve hundred like I told you, just a little

thankyou from Councillor Loris, and I was going to tell Silk thirteen

hundred, then double that." Blood crossed the room to an inlaid

cabinet, opened it, and poured gin and water into a squat glass.

"Only when I'd talked to him a little, I made it thirteen _thousand_,

because he really thought those old buildings in the middle of that

slum were priceless. And I said I'd sell them back to him for

twenty-six thousand."

Blood chuckled and sat down again. "I'm not really a bad host,

Mama. If I thought that you'd drink it, I'd stand you a drink, even

after you called me a thief."

"I was speaking of fact, Bloody, not calling names. Here in private

you may call me a trull or a trollop any other such filthy sobriquet.

That is what I am, or at any rate what I've been, although no man

but your father ever touched me."

"Not me," Blood told her. "I'm above all that."

"But not above defrauding that poor boy because he valued the

things given to his care, and was so foolish as to imagine you

wouldn't lie to an angur."

Blood grinned. "If I were above that, Mama, I'd be as poor as he

is. Or as he was, anyhow. I don't remember how much time I gave

him to come up with the gelt. A couple of weeks, maybe, or

something like that. Then when I had him crawling, I said that if he

brought me something next week or whatever, I might let him have

a little more time. Then after a couple days, I sent Musk to tell him

I had to have it all right away. I figured he'd come out here again

and beg me for more time, see? It looked like it was going to be a

nice little game, the kind I like best."

Maytera Marble nodded sympathetically. "I understand. I suppose

all of us play wicked little games like that from time to time. I

have, I know. But yours is over, Bloody. You've won. You have

him here, a prisoner in your house. The person who told me that the

councillors were here told me that, too. You have me as well. You

say you wanted to avenge yourself on the foster mother we found

for you, and you bought our manteion so you could avenge yourself

on me, because I gave you life and tried to see that you were taken

care of."

Blood stared at her and licked his lips.

"You've won both games. Perhaps all three. So go ahead, Bloody.

A single shot should kill me, and I saw a lot of slug guns out there in

your foyer. Then the Trivigauntis can kill you for killing General

Saba's adjutant, or Generalissimo Oosik can shoot you for shooting

me. Possibly you'll be given your choice. Would you rather die

justly? Or unjustly?"

When Blood did not reply, she added, "Perhaps you ought to ask

your friend Musk about it. He advises you, from what you've said.

Where is he, anyway?"

"He stayed behind after we brought the doves. He said he had a

couple things to take care of, and he doesn't get into town very

often. I thought maybe your side picked him up when he tried to

come home.

Maytera Marble shook her head.

Blood took a liberal swallow from his glass. "I wasn't going to

shoot you, Mama, and I didn't shoot her. You agreed to that

already. Let's pin it down. In about an hour, the Guard could knock

this house down and kill everybody. I know that. They're not doing

it because they know we've got Silk in here. Isn't that right?"

Maytera Marble nodded. "Free him, turn him over to me, Bloody,

and we'll go away and leave you alone."

"It's not that easy. He's here all right, right here in my house. But

it's the councillors and their soldiers who've got him, not me."

"Then I must speak with them. Take me to them."

"I'll bring them in here," Blood told her, "they're all over." Under

his breath he added, "It's still my hornbussing house, by Phaea's

feast!"

Potto opened the door at the top of the cellar steps and crooked his

finger at Sand. "Bring him up, Sergeant. We're getting them all together."

Sand saluted with a crash of titanium heels, his slug gun vertical

before his face. "Yes, Councillor!" He nudged Silk with the toe of his

right foot, and Silk rose.

He fell as he attempted to mount from the second step to the

third, and again halfway up. "Here," Sand told him, and returned

Xiphias's stick.

"Thank you," Silk murmured. And then, "I'm sorry. My legs feel a

trifle weak, I'm afraid."

Potto said cheerfully, "We're going to try to give you back to your

friends, Patera, if we can get them to take you." Grabbing the front

of Remora's ruined robe, he jerked Silk up the remaining step.

"You'd like to lie down again, wouldn't you? Get in a little nap?

Maybe something to eat? Help us, and you'll get it."

He released Silk so suddenly that he fell a third time. "Has he

tried to escape again, Sergeant?"

Silk did not hear Sand's reply; he was thinking about a great many

things. Among them, names.

His own and Sand's were similar--each had four letters, each

contained a single vowel, and each began with an S. They could not

be related, however, because Sand was a chem and he a bio. Yet

they were related by the similarity of their names. Not inconceivably

(he found it a tantalizing idea). Sand was a cognate, a version of

himself in some whorl of a higher order. Many things the Outsider

had shown him seemed to imply that there were such whorls.

Sand prodded him from behind with the barrel of his slug gun,

and he staggered against a wall.

Since chems were never augurs, it could not be that Sand had

been meant to be an augur. Was it possible then, that he, Silk, had

been meant to be a Guardsman? If he were a Guardsman instead of

a failed augur, the many correspondences (already so marked)

linking them would be much more perfect, and thus this inferior

whorl they inhabited more perfect, too.

But, no his mother had wanted him to enter the Juzqado, to

become a clerk there like Hyacinth's father and perhaps rise to

commissioner. How glowingly she had spoken of a political career,

almost up until the day he left for the schola.

"This way," Potto told him, and pushed him through a door and

into a gorgeous room full of lounging soldiers and armored men. "Is

that the calde?" one of the men asked another; the second nodded.

He was in politics at last, as his mother had wished.

He had pulled a chair over to her closet and stood on the seat to

examine the calde's bust on its dark, high shelf; and she, finding him

there intent upon it, had lifted it down for him, dusted it, and set it

on her dressing table where he could see it better--wonder at the

wide, flat cheeks, the narrow eyes, the high, rounded forehead, and

the generous mouth that longed to speak. The calde's carved

countenance rose again before his mind's eye, and it seemed to him

that he had seen it someplace else only a day or two before.

Streaming sunlight, and cheeks that were not smooth wood but

blotched and lightly pocked. Was it possible he had once seen the

calde in person, perhaps as an infant?

"Now listen to me." Potto was standing before him, his plump,

pleasant face half a head lower than Silk's own.

...had seen the calde outside, because even without his lost

glasses he had noticed the powder on the cheeks and the flaws that

the powder tried to cover--had seen him, in that case, under the

auspices of the Outsider, in a sense.

Blood and Maytera Marble were sitting side-by-side when Potto

shoved Silk into the room; he was so surprised to see her that for a

moment he failed to notice Chenille, Xiphias, and a drooping augur

lined up against the wall.

A still handsome elderly man standing by the fireplace said, "I'm

Councillor Loris. I take it you're Silk?"

"Patera Silk. His Cognizance the Prolocutor has not yet accepted

my resignation. May I sit down?"

Loris ignored the last. "You're the insurgent calde."

"Others have called me calde, but I'm not involved in an

insurrection." Potto pushed him to the wall beside Chenille.

Loris smiled, his blue eyes glinting like chips of ice; and the

seduction of his craggy wisdom was so great that even a mocking

smile made it almost irresistible. "You killed my Cousin Lemur, did

you, Calde?"

Silk shook his head.

Maytera Marble said, "I don't know these others, except Chenille.

Shouldn't I introduce myself?"

"I'll do it," Blood told her, "it's my house." With a slight start, Silk

realized that Blood was in the chair he had occupied a week earlier,

and that this was the same room.

"This is Councillor Loris," Blood began unnecessarily, "the new

presiding officer of the Ayuntamiento. This other councillor's

Councillor Potto."

"Calde Silk and Councillor Potto are old acquaintances," Loris

purred. "Isn't that right, Calde?"

"I don't know this soldier myself," Blood continued, and paused to

sip his drink. "It probably doesn't matter."

"Sergeant Sand," Silk told him. "He and Councillor Potto interrogated

me Tarsday. It was very painful, and I suppose it's quite

possible they're going to do it again."

Sand came to attention and appeared about to speak, but Silk

stopped him with a gesture. "You were only doing your duty.

Sergeant. I understand. In justice to you, I ought to add that you

had treated me well earlier."

Potto said, "We won't need you here, Sergeant. You know what

to do." Sand looked at Silk, saluted, executed an about-face, and

left, shutting the door behind him.

"A very handsome young man," Maytera Marble remarked. "I was

sorry to hear that he behaved badly toward you, Patera."

Blood indicated her with his glass. "This holy sibyl's Maytera

Rose--"

Chenille tittered nervously. Maytera Marble said, "I'm Maytera

Marble, Bloody. Remember? I explained about that. Chenille and I

have met, and naturally Patera knows me well."

"Patera _Silk_, she means," elucidated the small augur in the corner.

"I, _too_, am entitled to the honorific, as well as my more customary ones.

Calde, I have been appointed the new _Prolocutor_ of _Viron_ by

_Subleviating Scylla_, who during that same _theophany_ confirmed

_you_ as its calde. Am _I_, as I _dare hope_, the first

to--"

Silk managed to smile. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Patera."

Chenille blurted, "Why weren't you dead? I've just been standing

here... We couldn't, none of us--"

Xiphias cackled. "He's a tough one! Student of mine, too! Truth!"

Silk said, "Maytera, do you know Master Xiphias? Master Xiphias

is teaching me to fence. Master Xiphias, this holy sibyl is Maytera

Marble. She's the senior sibyl now at my-- Of the manteion on Sun

Street."

Maytera Marble added softly, "I'm also the representative of our

Generalissimo Oosik and the Trivigauntis' General Saba, Patera.

I've come to arrange your release."

His voice thick with mock sincerity, Loris said, "We hold the key

to the crisis now, you see, the generous gods having flung the ring

into our laps. How foolish are those who scorn the power of the

immortal gods!"

A black shape darted through the open window, landing with a

thump on Silk's shoulder. "Bird back!"

"Oreb!" Silk looked around at him, surprised and more pleased

than he would have been willing to admit.

"_Scourging Scylla_," ignoring Oreb, Incus had leveled his forefinger

at Loris, "has given _you_ nothing."

"In that case, we have gained our present advantage by merit."

Loris smiled. "We thank the undying, ever-generous gods for our

talents."

Oreb cocked an inquiring head. "Good gods?"

"She will _destroy_ all of you, should you harm _either_ of the holy

augurs present, or this _sibyl_. We are _sacred_."

"We'll risk her wrath if need be. Old man, stop reaching for your

sword. It's gone. Were you thinking of overpowering us?"

Xiphias shook his head. "You think I don't know there's soldiers

out there?"

"You could not even if there were none." Loris took a bookend

from the mantle; it shattered between his fingers with a sharp

report and an explosion of snowy chips. The door flew open,

revealing Sand and two other soldiers with leveled slug guns.

Oreb whistled.

Potto told them, "It's all right. Shut it."

"Calde Silk is a strong young man, but he's been severely

wounded. You are an old one, unarmed, and not as strong as you

suppose. Our new Prolocutor's not physically imposing. Need I

continue?"

Silk said, "I can understand how you came to be in the tunnel,

Master Xiphias--both you and His Cognizance. You ran for cover

just as Hyacinth and I did--"

Blood interrupted. "You've got her? Where is she?"

"I don't. I had her, if you like. We were separated." Turning back

to Xiphias, Silk continued, "After you dug me out of the loose soil,

you went down the tunnel to look for water with Chenille and

Patera, leaving His Cognizance with me--with my body, as you

thought. Is that right?"

Xiphias nodded.

"Only we didn't think your body," Chenille told Silk, "We knew

you were alive. His Cognizance said there was a pulse, only we

didn't understand how you could be alive after getting buried like

that."

Loris rattled what remained of the bookend in his hand. "What

puzzles me--excuse my interrupting your conference--is your

mention of His Cognizance. I take it you don't refer to our friend,

but to the actual head of the Chapter? Was he in the tunnel with

you, Calde?"

"Yes, he was. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Potto said happily, "He's an old man. One of the patrols will pick

him up, Cousin."

"A clever old man." Loris looked grim. "A troublemaker."

Privately, Silk was trying to reconcile Quetzal's telling Chenille

that he, Silk, was alive with his saying that they had thought him

dead. He had lied in one or the other, but why?

"Bad thing!" Oreb told everyone.

Silk ventured, "A patrol headed by Sergeant Sand--one like the

patrol that arrested me originally, I suppose--must have come

across Master Xiphias, Patera Incus, and Chenille. I was surprised

to see them here, but I believe I understand now. Sand must have

sent the other man back here with them and gone on alone until he

found me, perhaps because he'd heard my voice--I'd been talking

to His Cognizance. Is that correct?"

"Where is this tunnel, Patera?" Maytera Marble asked. "Are you

talking about a tunnel underneath the house?"

Potto grinned at her, displaying gleaming teeth.

Blood put down his drink. "Yeah, we're right over it, Mama, and

it hooks up with a bunch of others."

Loris told her, "That's the first item you ought to pass on to your

principals, Maytera. They think they have us like rats in a cauldron.

Nothing could be further from the truth. We can leave this house,

and them, whenever we wish."

Blood added, "Only I don't want to. It's my house."

She looked thoughtful, a finger pressed to her cheek.

"Bad hole." Oreb ruffled his feathers apprehensively. Chenille

whispered, "Your bird was down there with us. Auk had him on the

boat."

"You're sunburned!" Inwardly, Silk reproached his own stupidity.

"I've been looking at you--gaping actually, I suppose. I hope you'll

excuse it, but I couldn't imagine how your face had gotten so red, so

close to the red-brown color of a wood-carving my mother used to

have."

"She wore _nothing_ on the boat," Incus interposed. "Then my robe.

Maytera _forced_ them to give her that gown."

Loris snapped, "Is this germane?"

"Perhaps not," Silk admitted. "It's just that Chenille has reminded

me of a childhood incident, Councillor."

Loris waved aside Chenille's sunburn, tossing the largest fragment

of the bookend onto the rosewood end table at Maytera

Marble's elbow. "Marble? Isn't that your name, Maytera? The calde

just reminded us of that."

"It is."

"That was what this knickknack was, I'd say. Real marble from

the Short Sun Whorl, precisely like you." For an instant, Loris's face

was no longer attractive. "I'll leave that chunk there so you don't

forget it."

"I shan't," Maytera Marble promised. "It would be wise for you to

keep in mind that you're surrounded by thousands of well-armed

troops, Councillor. I suppose most people in my position would be

inclined to exaggerate their numbers, but I won't. I'll tell you the

truth, so you won't be able to say that you were deceived, or even

misled, afterward. There are two companies of Trivigaunti

pterotroopers, almost the entire Third Brigade of the Civil Guard,

and elements of the Fourth. I asked Generalissimo Oosik what he

meant by 'elements' and he said four floaters and the heavy

weapons company. Besides all those, there are about five thousand

of Maytera Mint's people, with more arriving from the city all the

time. They've heard that Patera Silk's in here, and they want to

charge the house. When I left, General Saba and Generalissimo

Oosik were afraid they might not be able to prevent them without

using Guardsmen and creating more friction."

"Fight now?" Oreb inquired.

Smiling, Maytera Marble turned to Silk. "That's the bird I saw

hopping into your kitchen when Doctor Crane was treating you,

isn't? Later on my glass, and on your shoulder like that in the

garden. I knew I'd seen him before.

"No, little bird, no fighting. Not now, or not yet. But Generalissimo

Oosik told me quite frankly that if there's no way to stop

Maytera Mint's insurgents from attacking short of firing on them,

he'll stand back and let them do it. You see, I confided to the

children that your master was in here. They seem to have told a

great many other people before we left the city, so the whole thing's

my fault. I feel very badly indeed about that, and I'm trying to make

amends."

Blood added, "But she won't say who told her. Or have you

changed your mind about that, Mama?"

"Certainly not. I gave my word."

Loris, who had been leaning against the mantel, left it to stand in

front of Maytera Marble. "This little conference has already run too

long. Allow me to tell you what we want, Maytera. Then you can go

back out there and repeat it to the Trivigauntis and Mint's five

thousand rioters, if there are actually that many, which I am

ungentlemanly enough to doubt. Our position is not negotiable.

You accept our terms or we'll kill these prisoners, Silk included, and

crush the rebellion."

Incus stood again. "You have _no_ authority--"

Potto's fist striking Incus's cheek sounded almost as loud as the

breaking of the bookend.

"So, we've come to that." Maytera Marble smoothed the black

skirt covering her metal thighs. "It will be needlers and knives next,

no doubt."

Silk said, "I warn you, Councillor Potto, not to do that again."

"Or you'll break my neck?" Potto's smile was that of a fat boy

contemplating a stolen pie. "Beat little butcher, big butcher bark?

We've had some games of strength already. If you've forgotten

them, I can teach you the rules again."

Incus spat blood. "The just _gods_ avenge the wrongs of _augurs_. A

doom..."

Potto lifted his hand, and Incus fell silent.

"No hit," Oreb suggested.

"The gods may or may not," Silk murmured. "I don't know, and if

I were forced to choose, I'd probably say that they did nothing of

the sort."

Loris applauded with a sardonic smile; a half-second too late,

Potto joined him.

Abruptly Silk's voice dominated the room. "The law does,

however. Maytera told you how many troops Generalissimo Oosik

has, saying--very fairly and reasonably, I thought--that she didn't

want you to feel you'd been tricked when all this is over. You should

have listened more carefully."

"Tell 'em!" Xiphias put in.

"I'm attempting to." Silk nodded, mostly (it appeared) to himself.

"Because it will be over soon. There will be a trial, and you,

Councillor Potto, and you, Councillor Loris, will hear Maytera,

Chenille, Master Xiphias, and Patera Incus testify to what they saw

and heard--and felt, as well--to a judge who will no longer be afraid

of you."

Potto giggled and glanced at Loris. "Is this what they picked to

replace us?"

Surprising everyone, Blood said, "Yeah, I didn't get it at first, but

I'm starting to."

Maytera Marble told Potto, "All human things wear out and must

be replaced eventually, Councillor."

"Not me!"

"I'd think you'd welcome it. How long have you toiled, worrying

and planning, for our ungrateful city? Fifty years? Sixty?"

"Longer!" Potto dropped into a gilt settee.

Silk inquired, "Councillor, do you--not the authentic Potto down

in your underwater boat, but you yourself to whom I speak--recall

the Short Sun Whorl? Councillor Loris implied that marble could be

quarried there. I don't know anything about antiques, but I've

heard that it is a stone that's never found in its natural state in our

whorl."

"I'm not that old."

Loris snapped, "I was about to outline our demands. I'd like to get

on with it."

Maytera Marble left her chair to stand beside Silk. "Do, Councillor,

please."

"As I said, they're not negotiable. The following five conditions

embody them, and we're prepared to accept nothing less." Loris

fished a square of paper from an inner pocket and unfolded it with a

snap.

"First, Silk must declare publicly, without reservation, that he is

not and has never been calde, that Viron has none, and that the

Ayuntamiento alone is its sole governing body."

To bring peace I'll be happy to, Silk told him; and only when he

had completed the final word realized that he had not spoken aloud.

"Second, there must be no new election of councillors. Vacant

seats are to remain vacant, and the present members of the

Ayuntamiento are to remain in office.

"Third, the Rani of Trivigaunte must withdraw her troops from

Vironese territory and furnish us with hostages--whom we will

name--against further interference in our affairs.

"Fourth, the Civil Guard must surrender its treasonous officers to

us, the Ayuntamiento, for trial and punishment.

"Fifth and last, the rioters must surrender their arms, which will

be collected by the Army."

Through bruised lips, Incus muttered, "I suggest you _pray_ long

and hard over this, my son, and _sacrifice_. The _wisdom_ of the gods

has not enlightened your _councils_."

"We don't need it," Potto told him.

"When _Splenetic Scylla_ learns--"

Maytera Marble interrupted. "What have you to offer the Rani,

the rioters, as you call them, and the Guard in return?"

"Peace and a general amnesty. The captives you see here,

including Silk, will be released unharmed."

"I see." Maytera Marble laid a hand on Silk's shoulder. "I'm very

disappointed. It was I who persuaded General Saba and Generalissimo

Oosik that you were reasonable men. They listened because of

the courage of my sib General Mint. And because of her victories,

of which we're all very proud, if I don't offend the good gods who

gave them to her by saying so. Now I find that by interceding for you

I've squandered all the credit she's earned us."

Loris began, "If you think us unreasonable now--"

"I do. You say Patera Silk isn't really calde. What good is his

declaration then? What do you want him to tell the people? That the

augur of the Sun Street manteion says that your Ayuntamiento is to

continue to govern the city? You'll only make yourselves ridiculous."

Potto snapped, "Why didn't you laugh?"

"Calde?" Loris smiled. "Those are our demands. The Prolocutor

hasn't freed you from your vows, you said, the implication being

that you want him to. Are you willing to resign this caldeship you've

never really had as well?"

"Yes, I'd like nothing better." Silk had been leaning on Xiphias's

silver-banded cane; he straightened up as he spoke. "I did not

choose to become involved in politics, Councillor. Politics chose

me."

"Good Silk," Oreb explained.

Loris returned his attention to Maytera Marble. "You heard that.

You'll want to tell Oosik what you heard."

"Unfortunately," Silk continued, "the remainder of your terms are

not feasible. Take the second. The people demand that government

return to our Charter, the foundation of the law; and the law

requires elections to fill the empty seat in the Ayuntamiento."

"We ought to kill you," Potto told him."I will."

"In which case you would no longer hold the calde. The people--the

rioters, as you call them--will choose a new one, no doubt a

much better and more effective one than I am, since they could

hardly do worse."

He waited for someone else to speak, but no one did; at length he

added, "I'm not an advocate, Councillors--I wish I were. If I were, I

could easily imagine myself defending you on nearly every charge

that could be brought against you thus far. You suspended the

Charter, but I believe there was some uncertainty regarding the

wishes of the old calde, and it was long ago in any case. You tried to

put down the riots, but in that you were doing your duty. You

questioned Mamelta and me when we were detained for violating a

military area, which could easily be justified."

"He _hit_ me!" Incus exclaimed. "An _augur!_"

Silk nodded. "That is an individual matter, concerning Councillor

Potto alone, and I was considering the Ayuntamiento as a whole--or

rather, what remains of that whole. But what you say, Patera, is

quite right; and it's an indication of the road along which this

Ayuntamiento is traveling. I'd like to persuade Councillor Loris, its

presiding officer, to turn back before it's too late."

Loris fixed him with a malevolent stare. "Then you won't

to our demands? I can call in the soldiers at once and get this over

with."

Silk shook his head. "I can't accede. Nor can I speak for the Rani

of Trivigaunte, obviously; but I can and do speak for Viron; and for

Viron all of your demands, except the one for my resignation, are

out of the question."

"Nevertheless," Maytera Marble put in, "General Mint and Generalissimo

Oosik may accede to them, in part at least, to save Patera

Silk. May I speak to him in private?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"It isn't ridiculous, I must. Don't you see that General Mint and

Generalissimo Oosik and all the rest of them are only acting on the

authority of Patera Silk? When I report that I've seen him and tell

them you've recognized him as calde, they will certainly want to

know whether he's willing to agree to your terms. They'll have to

know what he wants them to do, but they won't pay the least

attention to it unless I can say that he told me in private. Let me talk

to him, and I'll go back and talk to Generalissimo Oosik and

General Saba. Then, if we're lucky, we'll have real peace in place of

this truce."

"We have not recognized him as calde," Loris told her coldly. "I

invite you to retract that."

"But you have! You've called him Calde several times in my

presence, and I could see you congratulating yourselves on having

the calde. You even called him the key to the crisis. You're

threatening to shoot him because he won't agree to your precious

five demands. If he's the calde, that's only cruel. If he isn't, it's

idiotic."

She raised her hands and time-smoothed face to Loris in supplication.

"He's terribly weak. I've been watching him while the rest of us

were talking, and if it weren't for his stick I think he would have

fallen. Can't you let him sit down? And tell everyone else to leave?

A quarter of an hour should be enough."

Blood rose, swaying a little. "Over here, Patera. Take my seat.

This's a good chair, better than the one you had in here that other

time."

"Thank you," Silk said. "Thank you very much. I owe you a great

deal, Blood." Chenille, next to him, took his arm; he wanted to

assure her he did not need her help, but stumbled on the carpet

before he could speak, eliciting an unhappy squawk from Oreb.

"Get the rest of them out," Loris told Potto.

Xiphias paused in the doorway, showing Silk both his hands, then

twisting one slightly and separating them.

Chenille kissed his forehead, the brush of her lips the silken touch

of a butterfly's wing--and was gone, violently pulled away by Potto,

who left with her and shut the door.

Maytera Marble reoccupied the chair beside the one that had

been Blood's. "Well," she said.

Silk nodded. "Well indeed. You did very well, Maytera. Much

better than I. But before we talk about--all of the things we'll have

to talk about, I'd like to ask a question. One foolish question, or

perhaps two. Will you indulge me?"

"Certainly, Patera. What is it?"

Silk's forefinger traced small circles on his cheek. "I know nothing

about women's clothes. You must know a great deal more--at least,

I hope you do. You got Councillor Loris to bring Chenille her

gown?"

"She was naked under that augur's robe," Maytera Marble

explained, "and I refused to talk about anything else until they got

her dressed. Bloody called in one of the maids, and she and Chenille

went with a soldier to find her some clothes. They weren't gone

long."

Silk nodded, his face thoughtful.

"It's too small for her, but the maid said it was the largest in the

house, and it's only a little bit too small."

"I see. I was wondering whether it belonged to a woman I met

here."

"You and Bloody were talking about her, Patera." Maytera

Marble sounded ill at ease. "He asked you where she was, and you

said you'd gotten separated."

Silk nodded again.

"I don't want to pry into your personal affairs."

"I appreciate that. Believe me, Maytera, I appreciate it very

much." He hesitated, staring through the open window at the

wind-rippled green lawn before he spoke again. "I thought it might

be one of Hyacinth's, as I said. In fact, I rather hoped it was; but it

couldn't be. It almost fits Chenille, as you say, and Hyacinth's much

smaller." The circles, which had ceased to spin, reappeared. "What

do you call that fabric?"

"It's chen... Why, I see what you're getting at, and you're

right, Patera! That gown's chenille, exactly like her name!"

"Not silk?"

Maytera Marble snapped her fingers. "I know! She must have told

the maid her name, and it suggested the gown."

"She kissed me as she left," he remarked. "I certainly didn't invite

it, but she did. You must have seen it."

"Yes, Patera. I did."

"I suppose she wanted to signal that she was with us--that she

supported us. Master Xiphias made a gesture of the same sort,

probably something to do with swordplay. Anyway, her kiss made

me think of silk, of the fabric I mean, for some reason. It seemed

strange, but I thought perhaps her skirt had brushed my hand. You

say it's actually called chenille?"

"Chenille _is_ silk, Patera. Or anyway the best chenille is, and the

other is something else that's supposed to look like silk. Chenille

is a kind of yarn, made of silk, that's furry-looking like a

caterpillar. If they weave cloth of it, that's called chenille too. It's

a foreign word that means caterpillar, and silk threads are spun

by silkworms, which are a kind of caterpillar. But I'm sure you

know that."

"I must speak to her!" he said. "Not now, but when we're alone,

and as soon as I can."

"Good girl!"

"Yes, Oreb. Indeed she is." Silk returned his attention to Maytera

Marble. "A moment ago when you spoke to Loris, you didn't want

us to leave this room. Would you mind telling me why?"

"Was I as transparent at that?"

"No, you weren't transparent at all; but I know you, and if you'd

really been so worried about me, you would have asked him to let us

talk in a bedroom where I could lie down, and to send for a doctor.

I don't suppose Blood's got one, now that Doctor Crane's dead; but

Loris might have been able to supply one, or to send someone for

one of the Guard's doctors under a flag of truce, like that white flag

next to your chair."

Maytera Marble looked grave. "I should have asked him to do

that. I can still ask, Patera. I'll go out and find him. It won't take a

moment."

"No, I'm fine. By Phaea's favor--" It was too late to call back the

conventional phrase. "I'll recover. Why did you want to stay here?"

"Because of this window." Maytera Marble waved a hand at it.

"Bloody had opened it while we were in here by ourselves, and I

worried the whole time that someone would get cold and shut it.

You must know Mucor, Patera. She said you sent her to me."

Silk nodded. "She's Blood's adopted daughter."

"Adopted? I didn't know that. She said she was Bloody's daughter.

That was Hieraxday night, terribly late... Do you know

Asphodella, Patera?"

Silk smiled. "Oh, yes. A lively little thing."

"That's her. I'd done the wash, you see, and I wanted to pour the

dirty water on my garden. Plants actually like dirty water with

soapsuds in it better than clean. It sounds wrong, I know, but they

do."

"If you say so, I'm sure it must be true."

"So I was pouring out the water, so much for each row, when

Asphodella pulled my skirt. I said what are you doing out so late,

child? And she told me she'd gone with the others to fight, but Horn

had sent her back--"

"Cat come!" Oreb warned. Silk looked for it, seeing none.

"Horn had sent her home, and quite right, too, if you ask me,

Patera. So now she wanted to know if there'd be palaestra on

Thelxday."

"Then," Silk said slowly, "her face changed. Is that it, Maytera?"

"Yes. Exactly. Her face became, well, horrible. She saw I was

frightened, as I certainly was, and said don't be afraid, Grandmother.

My name's Mucor, I'm Blood's daughter." Maytera Marble

paused, not certain that he understood. "Have I told you Bloody's

my son, Patera? Yes, I know I did, right after we sacrificed in the

street."

"He was Maytera Rose's," Suk said carefully. "You, I know, are

also Maytera Rose--at least, at times."

"All the time, Patera." Maytera Marble laughed. "I've integrated

our software. As far as we sibyls are concerned, I'm your best friend

and worst enemy, all in one."

He stirred uncomfortably in Blood's comfortable chair. "I was

never Maytera Rose's enemy, I hope."

"You thought I was yours, though, Patera. Perhaps I was, a little."

He leaned toward her, his hands folded over the crook of

Xiphias's cane. "Are you now, Maytera? Please be completely frank

with me."

"No. Your friend and well-wisher, Patera."

Oreb applauded, flapping his wings. "Good girl!"

She added, "Even if I were entirely Maytera Rose, I'd do all I

could to get you out of this."

Silk let himself fall back. It was astonishing how soft these chairs

of Blood's were. He remembered (vividly now) how badly he had

wanted to rest in his chair, to sleep in it, when he had talked with

Blood in this very room. Yet this one was better, just as Blood had

promised: yielding where it should, firm where firmness was desirable.

He stroked one wide arm, its maroon leather as smooth as

butter beneath his touch.

"They let me lie down after I was captured," he confided to

Maytera Marble. "Sand did. I'd had to walk all the way to this

house, and it was a very long way. It had seemed long when Auk

and I rode donkeys; and walking with Sand's gun at my back, it

seemed a great deal longer; but once we arrived, once we'd climbed

up through the hatch into the cellar, he let me lie down on the floor.

He isn't a bad man, really--just a disciplined soldier obeying bad

men. There's good in Loris, too, and even in Potto. I know you

must sense it, just as I do, Maytera; otherwise you'd never have

spoken to Potto as you did. That's why--one reason, anyway--I

don't feel that this situation from which you're trying to rescue me is

as bad as it appears, though I'll always be grateful."

"Cat! Cat!" Oreb flew from Silk's shoulder to the head of an

alabaster bust of Thelxiepeia.

Maytera Marble smiled. "There's no cat in here, you pretty bird."

"You were telling me about this room," Slik reminded her, "and

meeting Mucor. I wish you'd continue with that. It may be

significant."

"I--Patera, I want to tell you first about meeting you. It won't

take long. and it may be more important, maybe a lot more

important. You still think about the day you came to our manteion,

I know. You've mentioned it several times."

He nodded.

"Patera Pike was there, and you loved and respected him, but a

man wants a woman to talk to. Most men do, anyway, and you did.

You'd been raised by your mother, and we could see how you

missed her."

"I still do," Silk admitted.

"Don't feel bad about that, Patera. No one should ever be

ashamed of love."

Maytera Marble paused to collect her thoughts; her rapid scan

was back, and she reveled in it. "We were three sibyls, I was about to

say. Maytera Mint was still young and pretty, but so shy that she ran

from you whenever she could. When she couldn't, she would hardly

speak. Maybe she guessed what had happened to me long ago. I've

sometimes thought that, and you were young and good-looking, as

you still are."

He began a question, but thought better of it.

"I won't tell you who Bloody's father was, Patera. I've never told

anybody and I won't tell now. But I will tell you this. He never

knew. I don't think he even suspected."

Silk filled his lungs with the cool, clean breeze from the window.

"I slept with a woman last night, Maytera. With Hyacinth, the

woman Blood asked about."

"I'm sorry you told me."

"I wanted to. I've wanted--I want so badly, still, to tell people

who don't know, although a great many people know already. His

Cognizance and Master Xiphias and Generalissimo Oosik."

"And me." Maytera Marble's forefinger tapped her metal chest

through her habit. "I knew. Or rather, I guessed, as anybody would,

and I wish that you'd left it like that. Some things aren't improved

by talking about them."

Oreb broke off his inverted examination of Thelxiepeia's features

to applaud Maytera Marble. "Smart girl!"

"We were three sibyls, as I said. But Maytera Mint wasn't there

for you Patera, so I was the only ones left. I was old. I don't think

you ever grasped how old. My faces had gone long before you were

born. You never realized they weren't there, did you?"

"What are you talking about? Your face is where it ought to be,

Maytera. I'm looking at it."

"This?" She drummed her fingers on it, a quick metallic _tap-tap-tap_.

"This is my faceplate, really. I used to have a face like yours. I

would say like Dahlia's, but she was before your time. Like Teasel's

or Nettle's, and there were things in it, little bits of alnico, that let

me really smile or frown when I moved them with the coils behind

my faceplate. But all that's gone except for the coils."

"It's a beautiful face," Silk insisted, "because it's yours."

"My other face wasn't, and what it was showed in your own every

time you saw it. I resented that, and you resented my resentment

and turned to me to ease your loneliness. But we were much more

alike than you realized, not that I've ever cared, myself, for

machines like this. I never thought they could be people, really, no

matter how many times they said they were. Now I'm just a message

written on those teeny gold doodads you see in cards. But I'm still

me, a person, because I always was."

Silk fumbled Remora's ruined robe for a handkerchief, and

finding none blotted his eyes on his sleeve.

"I didn't tell you that to make you feel sorry for me, Patera.

Neither of me were easy to love, no more than I am now. You were

able to love one just the same, and not very many men could have,

not even many augurs. I thought that if you knew how you came to

love and not like me, it might help you some other time with some

other woman."

"It will, I know." Silk sighed. "Thank you, Maytera. With myself,

most of all."

"Let's not talk about it any more. What do you think of the

Ayuntamiento's terms? Still what you told Loris?"

Silk made a last dab at his eyes, feeling the grit in the cloth,

knowing that he was dirtying his already-soiled face and not caring.

"I suppose so."

Maytera Marble nodded. "They're perfectly hopeless. Not a single

thing for Trivigaunte, and why should the Guard hand over its

senior officers, why should Generalissimo Oosik allow it? But if we

offered trials, regular ones with judges--"

"Man back!" A big hand glittering with rings had appeared on the

windowsill. It was followed by a yellow-sleeved arm and a whiff of

musk rose.

"That's why you wanted to stay here." Silk stood up a trifle

unsteadily, helped by the cane, and crossed the room to the

window. "So your son could join us."

"Why no, Patera. Not at all."

Leaning over the sill, Silk spoke to Blood. "Here, hold onto my

hand. I'll help you up."

"Thanks," Blood said. "I should have brought a stool or something."

"Take mine, too, Bloody." Maytera Marble braced one foot on the

sill in imitation of Silk.

Flushed redder than ever with exertion, Blood's face rose on the

other side of the window. With a grunt and a heave, he tumbled into

the room.

"Now for my granddaughter. She'll be easy after Bloody."

Bending over the sill again, Maytera Marble clasped skeletally

thin hands and lifted in an emaciated young woman with a seared

cheek.

"Poor girl!"

Silk nodded his agreement as he returned to his chair. "Hello,

Mucor. Sit down, please, so that I may sit. We're neither of us

strong."

"Needlers're no good 'gainst the soldiers," Blood puffed. He

brushed off the front of his tunic and reached beneath it. "So I'm

giving you this, Calde Silk."

"This" was an azoth, its long hilt rough with rubies and chased

with gold; its sharply curved guard was more elaborate than that of

the one Doctor Crane had given him at Hyacinth's urging, and

diamonds ringed its pommel.

Silk resumed his seat. "I should have anticipated that. Doctor

Crane told me you had two."

"Don't you want it?" Blood did not trouble to hide his surprise.

"No. Not now, at least."

"It's worth--"

"I know what it's worth, and how effective a weapon it can be in a

strong hand like yours. At the moment, I don't have one, though

that's the least of my reasons for refusing."

Silk settled back in his chair. "I asked your daughter to sit down,

and she was good enough to oblige me. I can't invite you to sit in

your house, and I'm very aware that I'm occupying your former

seat; but there are many others."

Blood sat.

"Thank you. Maytera--"

"Cat come!"

It did, almost before Oreb's agitated whoop, springing lightly

over the windowsill to land noiselessly in the middle of the room and

glare at Blood with eyes like burning amber. Maytera Marble

gathered her skirts as if it were a mouse; Silk asked, "Is that Lion? I

seem to remember him."

The lynx turned its glare on him and nodded.

"Patera's been making everybody sit," Maytera Marble told

Mucor. "It would be nicer if you had your big kitty sit too, Darling. I

wouldn't mind him so much then."

Lion lay down obediently, dividing his attention between Blood

and Oreb.

"Sphigx bless you." Maytera Marble traced the sign of addition.

"I--it's rather amusing now that I come to think of it, the sort of thing

the children enjoy. Patera thought I wanted this window open so

your Papa could come in, and I said, no, I hadn't even thought of it,

which was the plain truth. I wanted it opened because you told me

the first time, Darling, not to stay in rooms with the doors and

windows shut, because you might have to drop in again, and that

would make it harder. So I was happy when he opened this one, and

now you've come in through it, and your long-legged kitty, too."

"I didn't know she could take over an animal like that." Blood had

his thumb on the demon. "We didn't know she had any power left till

Lemur taped the calde talking to Crane, but it sounds like she's

been paying visits to both of you."

"Sneaking outside the window, Bloody? You shouldn't do that."

"I didn't."

"A listening device." Silk sighed. "I'm disappointed. I'd thought

there might be a secret door behind one of these big paintings.

When I was a sprat, boys' books were full of them, but I've never

actually seen one."

"You knew I'd come?"

"I surmised you might. Do you want the entire thing?"

Maytera Marble sniffed loudly. "I do, Patera."

"I wish you wouldn't make that noise," he told her.

"Then I won't, or at least not very often. But Bloody's my son,

and I meant I have a right to know."

"All right, the entire thing." Silk leaned back in his chair, eyes half

closed. "On Hieraxday, I walked some distance through the city with

His Cognizance, and from the East Edge to Ermine's; it was about

evenly divided between Maytera Mint's insurgents and the Guard. I

slept at Ermine's for a few hours, as I told you; when I woke up, half

the Guard seemed to have gone over to Maytera Mint."

Maytera Marble said, "All of it but the Second, I'm told."

"Good. Before I was brought here, I was in the tunnels or in the

cellar, so I didn't see much; but there were councillors here. It

seemed likely they were directing their forces in person, and I didn't

think they'd do that unless the situation was critical. Then too, you

told me you'd walked out here with the children and mentioned a

general from Trivigaunte--"

"General Saba. A very good woman at heart, from what I saw of

her, though quite large and rather prone to obstinacy."

"I assume it was her airship that attacked us when His Cognizance

and I were riding in Oosik's floater."

"Her airship's been over the city, certainly. It's been shooting and

dropping explosives. It's huge."

"Your Doctor Crane was a spy from Trivigaunte," Silk told Blood.

"You must know that by now. He told me once, joking, that if I were

in need of rescue all I'd have to do was kill him. He had a device in

his chest that let others find him and told them whether his heart

was beating. He was shot Rieraxday morning, due to a misunderstanding.

I imagine the attack on us resulted from a similar mix-up--the

Trivigauntis had been told the Guard was opposing us. When

they saw a Guard floater surrounded by officers on horseback, they

attacked it."

"I don't see what this has to do with me," Blood grunted.

"It has everything to do with you," Silk told him, "and I was right

about it, too--the only thing I've been completely right about. You

were fighting in a losing cause; this house was about to be

destroyed, and you might easily be wounded or killed. You knew

about the tunnels, and no doubt you've been down there. So have I,

as I've said--more than I like. I couldn't imagine your leaving this

house in flames and trudging off underground unless there were no

alternative."

"I worked shaggy hard to get this place."

"Don't swear, Bloody. It doesn't become you."

"I did! Your kind thinks it's easy. One wrong move and you're

packed for Mainframe, day after day, and nobody to help me I

could trust till I found Musk, nobody at all. It'd kill both of you in a

week. Shag yes, it would! Twelve years I did it before I ever took my

first crap in this place."

"Bloody!"

"It's only a guess," Silk admitted, "and I can't pretend an intimate

familiarity with your mental processes; but I'd imagine you've been

looking for an opportunity to change sides since sometime last night."

"What's the shaggy Ayuntamiento ever done for me? Worked me

for payoffs and favors every month. Shut me down to make

themselves look good. What the shag do I owe them?"

"I've no idea. Then--about an hour ago, perhaps--your mother

entered the picture, ostensibly and no doubt principally to help me,

but clearly with influence on the other side and eager to save you as

well. So when I realized Maytera wanted us to stay in this room, I

expected you to step from behind a picture." Silk smiled and

shrugged apologetically.

Mucor surprised them all by asking, "Would you like me to see

what they're doing?"

"I'd rather have you eat something," Silk told her, "but I don't

suppose there's anything in here. Go ahead, if Lion will behave

himself."

He waited for her reply, but none came.

"Girl go." Oreb's croak was scarcely audible. "No here." Lion

stretched himself on the floor and closed his eyes.

"Actually, I was surprised you didn't come sooner," Silk told

Blood conversationally, "but of course you had to fetch Mucor and

get her dressed--perhaps even clean her up a bit with the help of

one of your maids, and I hadn't allowed for that. The point that

puzzles me is that Mucor seems to have felt it necessary to send Lion

ahead of her."

"Did she?" Blood eyed his adopted daughter curiously.

"So it seems. Oreb--my bird, up there--must have glimpsed him

or, more likely heard him, because he told us several times that

there was a cat about."

"She probably didn't realize that the soldiers wouldn't be afraid of

him," Maytera Marble suggested.

"Bad cat," Oreb muttered.

"Not too loud," Silk cautioned him, "he might hear you."

"It was nice of you to join us, Bloody." Maytera Marble smoothed

her skirt. "It's to your advantage, no doubt, just as Patera says. But

you're taking a big risk just the same."

Blood stood. "I know it. You don't think much of me, do you,

Calde?"

"I think a great deal of your shrewdness," Silk told him. "I'd be

glad to have your cunning mind on our side. I'm aware that you

have no morals."

"Colonel Oosik," Blood gestured with the azoth. "He's your man,

from what I've heard. This General Saba's there for the Rani,

Colonel Oosik for you."

"Generalissimo Oosik."

Blood snorted. "You trust him and you won't trust me, but I've

had him in my pocket for years."

Maytera Marble said, "Sit down, Bloody. Or are you going to do

something?"

"I want a drink, but since the calde doesn't want it, I think I'll

hang onto my azoth as long as that cat's in here. Will you fix me one,

Mama?"

"Certainly." She rose. "A little more gin, I imagine?"

Silk began, "If it's not too much trouble, Maytera--"

"And ice. There's ice behind the big doors underneath."

"I'll be happy to. Brandy, or--" she examined bottles. "Here's a

nice red wine, Patera."

"Just water and ice, please. The same for Mucor, I think."

Blood shook his head. "No ice, Mama. She'll throw it. Believe

me,I know."

"Poor bird!"

"A cup of plain water for Oreb, if you would, Maytera. I

believe he'll come down to drink it if you leave it on top of the

cabinet."

"Plain water for Oreb." Revealing two fingers' width of silvery leg

as she stood on tiptoe, she put a brimming tumbler on the cabinet.

"Soda water and ice for Patera, and ice, gin. and soda water for you,

Bloody. Soda water without ice for my granddaughter. It's nice and

cool, though." As she placed the final tumbler before Mucor, she

added, "I must say she doesn't look as if you've been taking good

care of her."

Blood picked up his drink. "We've got to force-feed her, mostly,

and she tears off her clothes."

"Who was her mother?" Silk asked.

"She never had one." Blood sipped his drink and eyed it with

disfavor. "You know about frozen embryos? You can buy them now

and then if you want them, but you don't always get what you paid for."

Recalling dots of rotting flesh, Silk shuddered.

"The old calde, Tussah his name was, was supposed to have done

it. That leaked out after he died. So I decided to give it a try. Buy

myself an embryo with spooky powers. I got one of the girls to carry it."

"And you were actually able to purchase such a thing? An embryo

that would develop into someone with Mucor's powers?"

Blood nodded unhappily. "Like I said, you don't always get what

you pay for, but I was careful and I did. She's got the stuff, but she's

crazy. Always has been."

"You engaged a specialist to operate on her brain."

"Sure, trying to cure her, only it didn't work. If it had, I'd be

calde."

"She's been my friend," Silk told him, "a difficult one, perhaps, but

helpful just the same. She likes me, I believe, and the good god

knows I'd like to help her in return."

Oreb caught at the phrase. "Good god?"

"The Outsider, I ought to have said."

Mucor herself said, "They're arguing about you." Her voice

sounded faint and far away; the tumbler Maytera Marble had filled

for her waited untouched on the low table before her.

Silk sipped from his own, careful not to drink too much too fast.

"Men and women breed children from their bodies on impulse. We

augurs rail against it; but although inexcusable, it is at least

understandable. They are swept away by the emotions of the

moment; and if they weren't, perhaps the whole whorl would stand

empty. Adoption, on the other hand, is a considered act, consummated

only with the assistance of an advocate and a judge. Thus an

adoptive parent cannot say, 'I didn't know what I was doing,' or 'I

didn't think it would happen.' Worthless though those protestations

are, he has no claim to them."

"You think I knew she'd turn out like this? She was a baby." Blood

glared at his daughter. "I'm twice your age, Patera, maybe more.

When you're as old as I am, maybe you'll have a few little things

that you regret too."

"There are many already."

"You think there are. Women, you mean. My. Oh shag it, what's

the use?" Blood set his drink aside and wiped his damp left hand on

his thigh. "I don't care much for them. Neither would you, if you'd

been in my business as long as I have. I started when I was seven or

eight, just a dirty little sprat going up to men in the market.

Anyhow, Mucor's the only child I'll ever have, probably."

Maytera Marble told him, "She's the only granddaughter I'll ever

have, too, Bloody. If you won't take proper care of her, I will."

Blood looked angrier than ever. "Like you did me?"

"It would be better if we kept our voices down," Silk said. "You're

not supposed to be here."

"I wish I wasn't." A smile twisted Blood's mouth. "That would be

the elephant, wouldn't it? Shot for trying to pick up a couple bits

down at the market. Hey, Patera, you want to meet my sister? She'll

give you some hot mutton."

"Bloody, don't!"

"It's pretty late to tell me that, Mama. Or don't you think so?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Silk. "I'm going to

outline a deal. If you take it, I'm in, and I'll do everything I can to

get you out of here in one piece."

Silk opened his mouth to speak.

"When I say you, that's you and the other augur, the old man,

Mama here, and that big piece from Orchid's. Even your bird. All

of you. All right?"

"Certainly."

"If you don't take it, I'm out the window, understand? No hard

feelings, but no deal either."

"You could be shot going out the window, too, Bloody," Maytera

Marble warned him. "I'm surprised that you weren't, you and my

granddaughter, before you got back inside."

Blood shook his head. "There's a truce, remember? And I'll stick

the azoth back under my tunic. They aren't going to shoot an

unarmed man and a girl that never even come close to the wall."

"As good as a secret passage." Maytera Marble's eyes gleamed

with amusement.

"Right, it is." Blood went to the window. "Now here's what I say,

Calde. I'll come over to you and Mint, gun, goat, and gut, and try to

see to it that all of us get clear. When we do, I'll sign over your

manteion to you for one card and other considerations, as we say,

and you can owe me the card."

He waited for Silk to speak, but Silk said nothing.

"After we get out, I'm still your bucky. I've done plenty of favors

for the Ayuntamiento, see? I can help you too, and I will,

everything that I can. I've got Mucor, remember," Blood nodded

toward her, "and I know what she can do now. Lemur's crowd never

got anything half as good as that."

Silk sipped from his tumbler.

"More talk," Oreb muttered; it was not clear whether it was a

suggestion or a complaint.

"Here's all I want from you, Calde. No gelt, just three things.

Firstly, I get to hang onto my other property. That means my real

estate, my accounts at the fisc, and the rest. Number two, I stay in

business. I'm not asking you to make it legal. I don't even want you

to. Only you don't shut me down, see? Last, I don't have to pay

anybody anything above regular taxes. I'll open my books to you,

but no more payoffs on top of that. You understand what I'm telling you?"

Blood leaned against the window frame. "Look it over, and you'll

see I'm making you as good a deal as anybody could ask for. I'm

giving you my complete, unlimited support, plus some valuable

property, and all I want from you is that you leave me alone. Let me

keep what's mine and earn my living, and don't come down on me

any harder than you do on anybody else. What do you say?"

For a few seconds, Silk did not say anything. The tramp of

rubber-shod metal feet came faintly from the wide foyer on the

other side of the carved walnut door, punctuated by Potto's strident

tones; embroidered hangings stirred, whispering, in the cool wind

from the window.

"I've been expecting to be tested." Silk glanced at his tumbler,

surprised to find that he had drunk more than half his soda water.

"Tested by the Outsider. He's been testing me physically, and I felt

quite confident that he would soon take my measure morally as

well. When you began, I was certain this was it. But this is so easy!"

Lion raised his head to look at him inquiringly, then rose,

stretched, and padded over to rub his muscled, supple body against

Silk's knees.

Maytera Marble shook her finger at her son. "What you've been

doing is very wrong, Bloody. You sell rust, don't you? I thought so."

"To begin," Silk told Blood, "you must turn my manteion over to

me--you're going to do that right now. If you didn't bring along the

deed, you can go out that window and get it. I'll wait."

"I brought it," Blood admitted. He fished a folded paper from an

inner pocket of his tunic.

"Good. My manteion, for three cards."

Blood crossed the room to an inlaid escritoire; after a time,

Mucor stood as well, her mouth working silently as though she were

pronouncing the labored scratchings of Blood's pen.

"I'm not much of a scholar," he said at length, "but here you are,

Patera. I had to sign for Musk, but it should be all right. I've got his

power of advocacy."

The ink was not yet dry; Silk waved the deed gently as he read.

"Fine." He took three of Remora's cards from his pocket and handed

them to Blood.

"You're to do everything in your power to end the fighting

without further loss of life," he told Blood, "and so am I. If I'm calde

when it's over, as you obviously expect, you will be prosecuted for

any crimes you may have committed, in accordance with the law.

No unfair advantage will be taken beyond that which I just took.

That's a large concession, but I make it. I warn you, however, that

nothing that you may have done will be overlooked, either. If you're

found guilty on any charge, as I expect that you will be, I'll ask the

court to take into consideration whatever assistance you've rendered

our city in this time of crisis. Am I making myself clear?"

Blood glowered. "You extorted that property from me. You took

it under false pretences."

"I did." Silk nodded agreement. "I committed a crime to right the

wrong done to the people of our quarter by an earlier one. Why

should men like you be free to do whatever you wish whenever you

wish, guaranteed that you yourself will never be victimized? You

may, if you choose, complain about what I've done when peace has

been restored. You have a witness in the person of your mother."

He gave the lynx a last pat before pushing him away. "I wouldn't

advise you to call your adopted daughter, however. She's not

competent to testify, and she might tell the court about the nativity

of her pets."

"You had better not ask me to testify, either, Bloody," Maytera

Marble told him. "I'd have to tell the judge that you tried to bribe

our calde."

"They're coming," Mucor announced to Silk. "Councilior Loris has

finished talking to Councillor Tarsier through the glass. They've

decided to kill you and send your body back with the woman that

killed Musk."

Silk froze, his eyes on Blood.

Oreb squawked, "Watch out!"

Instinctively, Maytera Marble reached out to her son, a plea for

forgiveness and understanding.

His grip on the azoth tightened, and the shimmering horror that

was its blade divided the cosmos, leaving Maytera Marble on one

side and the hand she had held out to him on the other. It dropped

to the carpet as the hideous discontinuity swung up, showering them

with plaster and sundered lath. Silk shouted a warning; absurdly, he

tried to shield her from Blood's downward cut with Xiphias's cane.

Its thin wooden casing exploded in blazing splinters; but the

azoth's blade sprang back from the double-edged steel blade the

casing had concealed, having notched it to the spine.

It seemed to Silk then that his arm moved of itself--that he

merely watched it, a spectator fully as horrified as she, and fully as

separated from his arm's acts. As the door flew in with a crash, that

arm swung the ruined blade.

From behind Sergeant Sand and a second soldier equally soldier

large, Potto barked, "_Shoot him?_"

The notched blade slid forward, penetrating Blood's throat as

readily as the manteion's old bone-handled sacrificial knife had ever

entered that of a ram.

"Shoot the calde?" Sand's hand caught the other soldier's slug gun.

Blood's knees buckled as the light left his eyes. The double-edged

blade, scarlet to within a hand's breadth of the notch with Blood's

own blood, retreated from his throat.

"Yes, the calde!"

For a moment it seemed to Silk that Maytera Marble should have

knelt to catch Blood's blood; perhaps it seemed so to her as well, for

she crouched, her remaining hand extended to her son as he fell.

Silk turned, the sword still in his hand. Sand's slug gun was no

longer pointed at him, if it had ever been. Sand fired, and the

second soldier a fraction of a second after him. Potto fell, his

cheerful face slack with surprise.

"Take this, Patera." Maytera Marble was pressing Blood's azoth

into his free hand. "Take it before I kill you with it."

He did, and she took Xiphias's ruined sword from him, and with

its crook wedged between her small black shoes, contrived to wipe

its blade with a big handkerchief that she shook from her sleeve.

There was a clash of heels and a crash of weapons as Sand and the

second soldier saluted. Soldiers and men in silvered armor peering

around them began to salute as well. Silk nodded in response, and

when that seemed inadequate traced the sign of addition the air.

Epilogue

It had been hastily erected, Calde Silk reflected, studying the

triumphal arch that spanned the Alameda--very hastily. But surely

this new generalissimo from Trivigaunte would understand the

situation, would realize the difficulties they had labored under in

organizing a formal welcome in a city still at war with what remained

of its Ayuntamiento, and make allowances.

Now, this wind.

It stirred yellow dust from the gutters, whistled among the

chimneys, and shook the ramshackle arch until it trembled like an

aspen. Flowers covering the arch would have been nice, but that

moment of searing heat on Hieraxday had made flowers out of the

question. So much the better, Silk thought; this wind would surely

have stripped off every petal an hour ago. Even as he watched, a

long streamer of colored paper pulled free, becoming a flying jade

snake that mounted to the sky.

There the Trivigaunte airship fought its straining tether, so high

that its vast bulk appeared, if not festive, at least unthreatening.

From that airship, it should be simple to gauge the advance of

Generalissimo Siyuf's troops. Silk wished that there had been time

to arrange for signals of some sort: a flag hung from the gondola

when she entered the city, for example, or a smoke pot lit to warn

that she had been delayed. Rather to his own surprise, he discovered

that he was eager to go up in the airship himself, to see Viron

like the skylands again, and travel among the clouds as the fliers did.

There were a lot of them out today, riding this cold wind. More,

he decided, than he had ever seen before. A whole flock, like a

flight of storks, was just now appearing from behind the airship.

What city sent them forth to patrol the length of the sun, and what

good did those patrols do? Speculation about the Fliers had been

dismissed as bootless at the schola, until the Ayuntamiento had

condemned them as spies.

Had the Ayuntamiento known? Did Councillor Loris, who

wielded what authority remained to it, know now?

Might it not be possible to track Fliers in the airship, anchor at

last at that fabled city, learn its name, and offer whatever assistance

in its sacred labor Viron and Trivigaunte could provide?

(Buried, he had been wherever he had thought to be.)

A fresh gust, colder and wilder than any before it, roared up the

Alameda, shaking its raddled poplars like rats. To his right General

Saba stiffened, while he himself shivered without shame. He was

wearing the Cloak of Lawful Governance over his augur's robe; it

fell to his shoe-tops and was of the thickest tea-colored velvet, stiff

with gold thread. He ought to have been awash in his own

perspiration; he found himself wishing ardently for some sort of

head-covering instead. General Saba had a dust-colored military

cap and Generalissimo Oosik beyond her a tail helmet of green

leather topped with a plume, but he had nothing.

He recalled the broad-brimmed straw hat he had worn while

repairing the roof of the manteion--which would be missing more

shingles, surely, thanks to this wind. He had pulled that hat down so

that Blood's talus could not identify him later, and it had known him

by that.

(Dead by his hand, Blood and the talus both.)

He had lost that recollected hat somehow. Might not this wind

return it to him? All sorts of rubbish was blowing about, and

stranger things had happened.

His wound throbbed. Mentally he pushed it aside, forcing himself

to fill his lungs with cold air.

The shade had not climbed far yet, but what should have been a

bright streak of purest gold seemed faint, and flushed with brownish

purple. The Aureate Path was empty and failing visibly, signally the

end of mankind's dream of paradise, of some inconceivable fraternity

with its gods. For one vivid instant he remembered Iolar, the

dying Flier. But no doubt the sun was merely dimmed at the

moment, stained and darkened by dust. Winter was long overdue in

any event. Was Maytera Mint, who would be so conspicuously

absent from this, her victory parade, cold too? Wherever she was?

Was Hyacinth? Silk shivered again.

Far away, a band struck up, and ever so faintly he heard, or

seemed to hear, the sound of bugles, the tramp of marching feet,

and the clatter of cavalry.

That was a good sign, surely.