Inversions c-6

by Iain Banks

  "But… a woman?" Quettil said, letting one of his servants taste his wine and then accepting the crystal. "You entrust more than one organ to a woman's care? You are a brave man indeed, sir."

  The Doctor had sat back and twisted a little so that she had her back to the table. In this position she was able to face both the King and Quettil. She said nothing, though there was a small, tight smile on her face. I began to be alarmed. "Doctor Vosill has been invaluable this last year," the King said.

  "What's that? Without value? Valueless?" Quettil said with a humourless smile, and reached out with one slippered foot to prod the Doctor in the elbow. She rocked back slightly and looked down at the place where the jewelled slipper had touched her. I felt my mouth become dry.

  "Indeed without value because she is beyond value," Quience said smoothly. "I value my life above all else, and the good doctor here helps to preserve it. She is as good as part of me."

  "Part of you?" Quettil scoffed. "But it is a man's part to be part of a woman, sir. You are, as ever, far too generous, my King."

  "I have heard," Guard Commander Adlain said, "people say something of that nature. That the King's only fault is that he is too indulgent. In fact he is precisely, as indulgent as he needs to be to discover those who would take advantage of his sense of fairness and his desire to be tolerant. Having so discovered them-"

  "Yes, yes, Adlain," the Duke Quettil said, waving a hand towards the Guard Commander, who fell silent and looked down at the table. "I'm sure. But even so, to let a woman look after you… Your majesty, I am only thinking of the good of the Kingdom which you inherited from the man I was privileged to regard as my best friend, your good father. What would he have said?"

  Quience's expression darkened for a moment. Then it brightened and said, "He might have let the lady speak for herself." The King folded his hands and looked down at the Doctor. "Doctor Vosill?"

  "Sir?"

  "I have been given a present by Duke Quettil. A map of the world. Would you care to admire it? Perhaps you can even give us your thoughts on it, as you have travelled over more of the globe than the rest of us."

  The Doctor rose smoothly from her cross-legged sitting position to stand and swivel and look at the great map displayed on the far side of the table. She gazed at it for a moment then reversed her earlier motion, turning and folding herself down again and taking up a small pair of scissors. Before she applied them to the King's toe-nails, she looked at the Duke and said, "The representation is inaccurate, sir."

  Duke Quettil looked down upon the Doctor and gave a small, high laugh. He glanced at the King and looked as though he was trying to control a sneer. "You think so, madam?" he said in an icy tone.

  "I know so, sir," the Doctor said, busying herself at the quick of the King's left big toe and frowning mightily. "Oelph, the smaller scalpel-. Oelph." I jumped, dug in her bag and handed her the tiny instrument with a shaking hand.

  "What do you know of such matters, might I ask, madam?" the Duke Quettil asked, glancing at the King again.

  "Perhaps the lady doctor is a Mistress Geographer," Adlain suggested.

  "Perhaps she should be taught some manners," Duke Walen said testily.

  "I have travelled round the world, Duke Quettil," the Doctor said, as though addressing the King's toe, "and seen the reality of much of what is shown, rather fancifully, on your map."

  "Doctor Vosill," the King said, not unkindly. "It might be more polite if you were to stand and look at the Duke when you address him."

  "Might it, sir?"

  The King withdrew his foot from her hand as he sat forward and said sharply, "Yes, madam, it might."

  The Doctor gave the King such a look I began to whimper, though I think I was able to turn the sound into a clearing of the throat. However, she paused, handed me back the small scalpel and stood smoothly again. She bowed to the King and then the Duke. "With your permission, sirs," she said, then took up the tsigibern feather which the King had left lying on the table. She dropped, ducking under the long table and appearing on the far side. She pointed at the lower part of the great map with the feather.

  "There is no continent here, only ice. There are island groups here and here. The Northern Isles of Drezen are simply not as shown. They are more numerous, generally smaller, less regular and extend further to the north. Here, the westernmost Cape of Quarreck is shown twenty sails" or so too far to the east. Cuskery…" She tipped her head to one side, considering. "Is shown fairly accurately. Fuol is not here, it's here, though the whole continent of Morifeth is shown… slanted to the west here. Illerne is north of Chroe, not opposite it. These are the places I know of from personal knowledge. I have it on good authority that there is a great inland sea… here. As for the various monsters and other nonsenses-"

  "Thank you, Doctor," the King said, and clapped his hands. "Your views have been most amusing, I'm sure. Duke Quettil has doubtless gained great insight from watching his splendid plan suffer such correction." The King turned to a grim-faced Quettil. "You must forgive the good doctor, my dear Duke. She is from Drezen, where their brains seem to suffer from being upside-down all the time. Obviously all is topsy-turvy there, and the women think it fit to tell their lords and masters what is what."

  Quettil forced a smile. "Indeed, sir. I quite understand. Still, it was a most diverting display. I always held with your father that it was both unseemly and unnecessary that women be allowed on to a stage when castrati were so readily available, however I see that women's fanciful and imaginative nature may be put to good use when it comes to providing us with such humorous vignettes. I see now that such frivolity and such licence is indeed most welcome. As long as one does not take it too seriously, of course."

  I was watching the Doctor closely and with great trepidation as the Duke spoke these words. Her expression, much to my relief, stayed calm and untroubled. "Do you think," the Duke asked the King, "that she holds similarly picturesque views regarding the location of the organs within the human body as she does the features of the globe?"

  "We must ask her. Doctor," the King said. "Do you disagree with our best physicians and surgeons as you so obviously do with our most esteemed navigators and map-makers?"

  "On location, no, sir."

  "But from your tone," Adlain said, "you disagree on something. What would that be?"

  "Function, sir," the Doctor told him. "But that is mostly to do with plumbing and so not perhaps of paramount interest."

  "Tell me, woman," Duke Walen said. "Did you have to leave this land of Drezen to escape justice?"

  The Doctor looked coldly at Duke Walen. "No, sir."

  "Strange. I thought perhaps you might have tried the patience and forbearance of your masters there, too, and so have had to flee to escape their punishment."

  "I was free to stay and free to leave, sir," the Doctor said evenly. "I chose to leave to travel the world and see how things are elsewhere."

  "And found little you agree with, it would seem," Duke Quettil said. "I am surprised you have not returned to wherever it was you came from."

  "I have found the favour of a good and just king, sir," the Doctor said, laying the feather back on the table where she had found it, then looking at the King as she put her hands behind her back and drew herself up. "I am privileged to be able to serve him as best I can for as long as it pleases him. I consider that worth all the hardships my journey entailed, and everything that I have found disagreeable since I left my home."

  "The truth of it is that the Doctor is far too valuable to let go," the King assured Duke Quettil. "She is practically our prisoner, though we don't let her know that or she would at the very least go into the most awful huff, would you not, Doctor?"

  The Doctor lowered her head with a look that might almost have been demure. "Your majesty might banish me to the ends of the world. I would still be the prisoner of his regard."

  "Providence, it can be almost civil at times!" Quettil roared suddenly, slapping one hand on the
table.

  "She can even look handsome, in the right clothes and with her hair done properly," the King said, picking up the tsigibern feather again and twirling it in front of his face. "We shall have a ball or two while we are here, I dare say. The Doctor will put on her most feminine finery and amaze us all with daintiness and grace. Won't you, Vosill?"

  "If it please the King," she said, though I noticed that her lips were tight.

  "Something we can all look forward to," Duke Ulresile said suddenly, then appeared to blush and quickly busied himself with cutting a piece of fruit.

  The other men looked at him, then all smiled and exchanged knowing looks. The Doctor looked at the young man who had just spoken. I thought I saw her eyes cross for a moment.

  "Just so," the King said. "Wiester."

  "Your majesty?"

  "Music, I think."

  "Certainly, sir." Wiester turned to the musicians on the terrace behind. Quettil dismissed most of his retinue. Ulresile concentrated on eating enough to feed both the departed galkes and the Doctor returned to the King's feet, rubbing fragrant oils into the harder parts of the skin. The King sent the two shepherdesses away.

  "Adlain was about to give us some news, were you not, Adlain?"

  "I thought we might wait until we were inside, sir."

  The King looked round. "I see nobody we cannot trust."

  Quettil was looking down at the Doctor, who looked up and said, "Shall I go, sir?"

  "Have you finished?"

  "No, sir."

  "Then stay. Providence knows I have trusted you with my life often enough and Quettil and Walen probably don't think you have the memory or the wit to be an adequate spy, so assuming that we trust young…"

  "Oelph, sir," the Doctor told the King. She smiled at me. "I have found him an honest and trustworthy apprentice."

  "… young Oelph here, I think we can talk with reasonable freedom. My Dukes and Guard Commander may choose to spare you their more spicy phrases, Doctor, or they may not, but I suspect you would not blush to hear them anyway. Adlain." The King turned to the Guard Commander.

  "Very well, sir. There have been several reports that someone in a Sea Company delegation tried to assassinate the regicide UrLeyn, about twelve days ago."

  "What?" the King exclaimed.

  "I take it we must conclude that sadly this attempt did not succeed?" Walen said.

  Adlain nodded. "The 'Protector' escaped unharmed."

  "What Sea Company?" the King asked, eyes narrowed.

  "One that probably does not really exist," Adlain said. "One that several of the others fashioned specifically to make the attempt. A single report has it that the members of the delegation died under torture without revealing anything except their own sad ignorance."

  "This is due to all the talk of forming a navy," Walen said, looking at Quience. "It is foolishness, sir."

  "Perhaps," the King agreed. "But foolishness we must appear to support for now." He looked at Adlain. "Contact all the ports. Send a message to each of the Companies that enjoy our favour to the effect that any further attempt on UrLeyn's life will meet with our most profound and practical displeasure."

  "But sir!" Walen protested.

  "UrLeyn continues to enjoy our support," the King said with a smile. "We cannot be seen to oppose him, no matter how much his demise may please us. The world is a changed place and too many people are watching Tassasen to see what happens there. We must trust to Providence that the Regicidal regime fails of its own accord and so convinces others of its wrongness. If we are seen to intervene to bring about its downfall from without we shall only persuade the sceptical that there must have been some threat — and therefore, by their way of thinking, some merit — in the enterprise."

  "But sir," Walen said, leaning forward and looking past Quettil so that his old chin was almost on the table, "Providence does not always behave as we have the right to expect. I have had too many opportunities to observe this in my life, sir. Even your dear father, a man without peer in such matters, could be too prone to waiting for Providence to accomplish with most painful slowness what a quick and even merciful act could have achieved in a tenth of the time. Providence does not move with the alacrity and dispatch one might expect or desire, sir. Sometimes Providence needs to be given a nudge in the right direction." He looked defiantly round the others. "Aye, and a sharp nudge, at that."

  "I thought older men usually counselled patience," Adlain said.

  "Only when that is what is required," Walen told him. "Now it is not."

  "Nevertheless," the King said with perfect equanimity. "What will happen to General UrLeyn will happen. I have an interest in this that you may guess at, my dear Duke Walen, but neither you nor anybody else who holds my favour worth the having may anticipate it. Patience can be a means of letting matters mature to a proper state for action, not just a way of letting time slip away."

  Walen looked at the King for a good few moments, then seemed to accept what the King had said. "Forgive an old man for whom the furthest scope of patience may lie beyond that of his own grave, your majesty."

  "We must hope that will not be so, for I would not wish you such an early death, dear Duke."

  Walen looked reasonably mollified at this. Quettil patted his hand, which the older man seemed not so sure about. "The regicide has more to worry about than assassins, in any event," Duke Quettil said.

  "Ah," the King said, sitting back with a contented look. "Our eastern problem."

  "Rather say UrLeyn's western one, sir." Quettil smiled. "We have heard that he continues to send forces towards Ladenscion. Simalg and Ralboute, two of his best generals, are already in the city of Chaltoxern. They have issued an ultimatum to the barons that they must open the high passes and allow the Protectorate's forces free passage to the inner cities by Jairly's new moon, or suffer the consequences."

  "And we have reason to believe that the barons" position might be more robust than UrLeyn believes," the King said, with a sly smile.

  "Rather a lot of reasons," Quettil said. "In fact, about…"

  he began, but the King held up one hand and made a sort of half-patting, half-waving motion and partially closed his eyes. Quettil glanced round about us and gave a small slow nod.

  "Duke Ormin, sir," chamberlain Wiester said. The stooped figure of the Duke Ormin came awkwardly up the path.

  He halted by the tall map case, smiling and bowing. "Sir. Ah, Duke Quettil."

  "Ormin!" the King said (Quettil gave the most perfunctory of nods). "Good to see you. How is your wife?"

  "Much better, sir. A slight fever, no more."

  "Sure you don't want Vosill here to take a look at her?"

  "Quite sure, sir," Ormin said, raising himself up on his feet to look over the table. 'Ah, Doctor Vosill."

  "Sir," the Doctor said to the Duke, bobbing briefly.

  "Come and sit with us," the King said. He looked around. Duke Walen, would you — no, no." Duke Walen's face had taken on the look of a man told a poisonous insect has just fallen into his riding boot. "You moved before, didn't you… Adlain, would you make room for the Duke?"

  "With pleasure, sir."

  "Ah, a most magnificent map," Duke Ormin said as he took his seat.

  "Isn't it?" the King said.

  "Sir? Your majesty?" the young man to Walen's right piped up.

  "Duke Ulresile," the King said.

  "Might I go to Ladenscion?" the young Duke asked. He appeared at last to be animated and even excited. When he had expressed his anticipation at seeing the Doctor dressed for a ball he had seemed only to make himself more callow. Now he appeared enthused, his expression passionate. "I and a few friends? We have all the military means and a good number of men. We would put ourselves under the authority of whatever baron you most trust and would gladly fight for the-"

  "My good Ulresile," the King said. "Your enthusiasm does you no end of credit, but grateful though I am for the expression of such an ambition, its fulfilment w
ould lead only to my fury and contempt."

  "How so, sir?" the young Duke asked, blinking furiously, his face flushing.

  "You sit here at my table, Duke Ulresile, you are known to enjoy my favour and to accept my advice and that of Quettil here. Then you go to fight the forces of one I have pledged to support and must, I repeat, be seen to support, at least for now."

  "But-"

  "You will find in any event, Ulresile," Duke Quettil said, glancing at Quience, "that the King prefers to rely on his paid generals rather than his nobles to command forces of any significance."

  The King gave Quettil a controlled smile. "It was the custom of my dear father to trust major battles to those trained from an early age in war and nothing else. My nobles command their lands and their own leisure. They gather harems, improve their palaces, commission great works of art, manipulate the taxes that we all benefit from and oversee the improvement of land and the furbishment of cities. In the new world that exists about us now, that would appear to provide more than enough — indeed perhaps too much — for a man to think about without having to concern himself with the exigencies of war as well."

  Duke Ormin gave a small laugh. "King Drasine used to say,’ he said, 'that war is neither science nor art. It is a craft, with elements of both the scientific and the artistic about it, but a craft nevertheless, and best left to craftsmen trained to it."

  "But sir!" Duke Ulresile protested.

  The King held up one hand to him. "I have no doubt that you and your friends might carry many a battle, all on your own, and be easily the equal of any one of my waged generals, but in winning the day you might lose the year and even jeopardise the reign. Matters are in hand, Ulresile." The King smiled at the young Duke, though he could not see it because he was staring tight-lipped at the table. "However," the King continued, a tone of tolerant amusement in his voice that had Ulresile look up briefly,

  "by all means keep that fire stoked and your blade sharp. Your day will come in due time."

  "Sir," Ulresile said, looking back at the table.

  "Now," the King began, then became aware of some sort of commotion at the gates to the palace.