"Sorceress?"
"Not exactly, but she deals in enough magic to get herself a brushwood footwarmer. You must flee with her in three days, when the barony's country-dancing championships are held. Pelmore's something of a dancer, he'll be competing dawn till dusk, and will not notice she's gone until it's too late."
"Norellie Witchway, five lanes to the right, nine doors down, flee in three days, I'm expected, and mind out for a dancing wharfer named Pelmore Haftbrace."
"Sharp lad. Well then, I'll be off, must catch my barge. Watch your tongue and back."
"But I'm just a loyal Wayfarer inspector," I said innocently.
"Well, just make sure folk keep thinking that."
"Convey my condolences to Lady Dolvienne for Captain Gilvray, sir." i
'That I shall."
I stayed behind after he left, relieved to be alone again. For the first time in uncounted weeks I was not being whined at by Wallas, moaned at by Roval, or lectured to by Riellen. The
prospect of not having to travel on the following day was also rather pleasant. A serving maid interrupted my reverie.
"Yer pardon, sir, but some important lady what speaks proper wants to talk with ye."
"Er, have you got the right man?" I asked. "I'm just a Wayfarer inspector."
"Aye sir, she said ye were that. She asked if ye'd like to sit at her table. She's the one with long white hair."
I looked around, and caught sight of a tallish, elegant young woman with pure white hair, a proud, angular face, and wide lips painted the color of arterial blood. She did not look like a typical albino, even though her hair was so white that it almost seemed to glow. Her eyes were as black as anthracite coal, due to some treatment with squid ink to improve her eyesight. She was dressed in fashionable riding gear—boots, calf-length skirt, and ruffle blouse—and at each shoulder she had a coat of arms that featured an eagle, sable, on an azure field.
Kavelen Lavenci Si-Chella, half sister of the empress, I thought with resignation; then I gave the serving maid a copper and stood up. After walking across to Lavenci, I bowed, then brought the edge of my hand to my forehead and swept it down to my side in the Wayfarers' salute.
"Danolarian, it seems we have both had a change in fortune since our last meeting," she said with a suave smile, leaning back against the wall on her stool.
"Ladyship, I am honored to be in your presence," I said slowly, and with meticulous formality.
"Oh that! Kavelen Lavenci, what a joke. The empress elevated me for unimportant services to important people. Sit down, Danolarian, sit down. Wine? You must be off duty if you are drinking already."
"That I am, ladyship."
"Please, it is Lavenci to you." She laughed. "I notice you have the olive-brown tan that comes from traveling in high mountains. How was it on Alpindrak?"
"A severe test of endurance, but the most beautiful place in the world."
"So I have heard. I also heard you played the sun down on Alpindrak with
'Evening's All for Courting.' That must have been wonderful."
"It seemed like a fine thing to do, so I did it.'
"It made you famous, everyone's talking about it. I also heard there were flashes on the face of Lupan, and that glowing clouds the size of a kingdom were observed. Have you heard of it? The news caused a sensation among the cold-science astronomers. They think it signifies intelligent life."
"Aye, I saw the very first of them, then there was another."
"Two, you say? Ah, but you were on the road and could not have known. Carrier pigeons have brought word of ten such flashes and clouds while you were traveling. One every night for ten days, then no more." We lapsed into silence for some moments. A very unpleasant subject needed to be raised, and I was avoiding it. I decided that first she needed to be warned about the Inquisition's spy, just in case she still practiced the forbidden magics.
"Ladyship, I have word of an Inquisition spy, Pelmore Haftbrace," I began. j
"The young dancing wharfmaster, is he not?" she responded at once. "I know of him already. Pelmore has won three medals for his dancing in former years."
"Oh. Ah, well... good."
"I do still dance, in fact I have danced a lot since arriving here. I have even danced with Pelmore."
."Champions can be fine tutors, ladyship."
"Have you forgotten that I once danced with you?"
"I remember our dances together with great pleasure, ladyship. I just wanted to warn you against possible danger from the wharfmaster Pelmore. As you already know of him, I shall bother you no further."
At this point I gave in to a fit of blatant cowardice. I stood up to go instead of saying what I knew I had to say, but Lavenci just blinked with mild surprise before waving me down again.
"Stay, I would hear of the flashes on Lupan from you. You say you saw the very first?"
I described what I had seen, quite proud of the fact that I had chanced to see the first flash of all, yet anxious to be out of Lavenci's presence. She listened carefully as I spoke, but had an odd, naughty air about her, as if she were having to strain to tolerate me.
"I suspect that Lupanian sorcerers are experimenting with huge ether machines, just as ours once did," she explained once I had finished.
"Perhaps they follow our example," I said. "After all, the destruction of Torea would have been visible from Lupan, if they have farsights such as ours. Assuming that there really is intelligent life there."
"I would call it stupid sentient life, rather than intelligent," replied Lavenci. "Large ether machines are a very bad idea."
"True, we proved that."
Again there was a silence. Again Lavenci chose to break it.
"You seem to have a very good education for a mere inspector, Danolarian. Three years in the Wayfarers! You should be a marshal by now, you could even rise to quadrant inspector if you put your mind to it."
"I'm not a good leader, ladyship," I replied, trying to bring the conversation to a close. "I'd rather just be out and on the roads."
"Out on the roads and not writing to me?" she said pointedly, her voice hardening a trifle.
"I wrote you eleven letters, ladyship."
"You did? None reached me. I thought something had happened to you. All I got was the note you left under the door, saying that you had to leave for three months, and apologizing for taking such bold liberties with me."
"Nevertheless, I wrote eleven letters and submitted them for carriage to Alberin," I said, my tone and manner suddenly sharpening, and probably bordering on rudeness.
"Well then, did you bring me a present from all your travels?"
"My apologies, ladyship. I bought you a black opal on a silver chain. Black for your eyes, silver for your hair. It cost four hundred florins, nearly all the money I had."
"Oh, a sophisticated gift!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Well, where is it?"
"It was lost overboard during the voyage here on the barge."
"Lost overboard?" she laughed. "Surely you can do better than that?" By way of reply I emptied my purse onto the table. Three coppers were all that fell out.
"My past month's pay is due tonight," I added. I
I was finding Lavenci's company something of a strain by now. It reminded me of being a very small boy, trying to be nice to some elderly, bad-tempered aunt who was looking for an excuse to give him a damn good thrashing. The silence between us lengthened. Yet again Lavenci broke it.
"Danolarian, why do you not respond to my advances?" she suddenly asked, looking me in the eyes and running a fingertip along the back of my hand.
"With respect, ladyship, you slapped my hand away when last we were together, and bid me goodnight in a very chilly manner."
"Well, quite properly, too," she said haughtily; "You must learn that a lady does not tolerate such unwanted familiarities."
Something inside me snapped, and I drew my hand back off the table and folded my arms. Well, time to destroy my career in the Wayfarers,
I decided. On the other hand, where do I go? I have the death sentence for desertion in the Sargolan Empire, I'm liable to be recognized by some Torean refugees in Diomeda, and now I'm about to become unemployable in the Scalticarian Empire for being rude to someone with Kavelen in front of her name. I know a bit of Vindician, perhaps I could pick up some mercenary work there. Time tp be rude to a very important lady, and for no better reasoh than self-respect, I concluded. |
"I most humbly beg your pardon," I said coldly^ "A ready apology, perhaps there is hope for you," she laughed, with a flick of her hand. "A lady cannot t|ake up arms to defend her honor, so she must deter unwanted familiarities before they begin. Now then, I must bid you do something to earn my forgiveness."
"Begging your pardon, ladyship, but your sister, Her Majesty Empress Wensomer, told me that you were indeed delighted to accept the most intimate familiarities possible from Student Ulderver, Student Decrullin, Student Laron, Prefect Lees, and Tutor Haravigel when you raised your skirts for them in the academy's pantry and the academy's bathchamber towel cabinet. Except for Laron, of course, who wfas given access to much more of your esteem than I could ever hope for on the academy's roof. If you wish to tell me why I am so much more despicable, loathsome, repulsive, and revolting than those young men, then I shall consider whether or not I want your forgiveness." I had spoken in a level, soft voice, so that nobody else in the taproom would hear. Lavenci's suave smile had vanished as I spoke, and all traces of color drained from her face. Her eyes left mine, and she stared at her mug for quite a while. Finally she picked it up and drained the contents in a single swallow, then ran her tongue over her lips.
"Danolarian ... I come from a very odd family," she began slowly, then seemed to lose track of what she was thinking to say.
Nobody knows that better than me, I thought. "Ladyship, I must assure you that I shall never again mention these matters," I declared. "I should now like to be off to collect my pay, I have been eating poorly since I spent two months of my pay on the black opal that I later tossed into the river. Are you done with me?"
"Me done with you?" she said in a whisper that I barely heard above the background babble of the tavern. "Inspector Danolarian, you are done with me."
"May I go, ladyship?"
"Go where?" she asked listlessly. "Am I permitted to know?"
"The Bargeman's Barrel, there is a big dance outside it tonight. I'll ask if they need a spare bagpiper, I might earn a couple of florins." Again she sat in silence, this time scratching at the tabletop with a fingernail.
"Danolarian ... you are like nobody I have ever met," she declared in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
"Judging from your treatment of me, ladyship, this is painfully obvious." She gave a loud sniff, and a pearly tear trailed down her cheek. Suddenly she stood up and walked around the table, unfastening her ruffle blouse. Sitting on my lap and snatching up my hand, she pressed it firmly against a bare breast. The other patrons of the taproom gasped, then whistled, clapped, and cheered.
"Well, Inspector, this time I am not slapping your hand away," she declared firmly, oblivious of the fact that we were
the focus of attention of the entire taproom, and with forced frivolity in her tone. "Come, let us find a pantry, and I can lean on a cheese barrel while you raise my skirts and do what you will. If your taste is for a bed, I must warn you that I bite."
"Ladyship, I think that we have both experienced sufficient humiliation for one night. May I go?"
After seeming to think on my words for a moment, she raised my hand to her lips, gave it a little squeeze, then released it. She looked rather crushed as she stood up before me, refastening her blouse. "Is there nothing that I can do for you?" she asked forlornly. My position was by now more than clear, and I decided that a concession was in order. I wanted to leave her, Jiot hurt her. Even in circumstances such as these, I could not bring myself to dislike her. She was like that pleasant but expensive drink, caffin, to which I am allergic: I liked her, but I knew she was bad for me.
"May I have a dance or two with you, tonight?" I asked, trying to sound friendly without sounding too fjiendly. She brightened at once.
"Yes, yes, on my word, yes. We danced on the night we met, and I would love to dance out our farewell. I'll be away, and change," she said with a flourish.
"Silk skirts, lips waxed red, cascades of snowy hair, and a hint of perfume, just so that you can be seen with the most beautiful woman at the dance, and be the envy of every man watching." "You are too kind." "Shall I meet you there?" "I shall be waiting." I waited until Lavenci had gone; then I went Across to the maids who were stroking and feeding Wallas. I told them that I was away to the dance, and asked them to look after my cat. They said that Wallas was welcome to stay in the tavern for the night, and sleep in the kitchen.
"We sleeps there too, luv," said the one who was feeding scraps to Wallas.
"Yer pussy will come to no 'arm, why 'e might even like to share my bed." If only they knew, I thought.
"Cross words with your lady, then, luv?" asked the other maid. "She was never my lady," I said as I turned to go.
* >:
Riellen had been waiting outside; in fact, she had been watching through the window. She bailed me up as I stepped outside, reporting that rooms had been secured for sleeping, the laundry had been left with laundresses, Roval was blind drunk and asleep in his room, and that she had collected our back pay. She presented me with a purse.
"Very good, Constable Riellen, now take the rest of the night off," I said grandly, pleased to be able to at least make someone happy.
"Sir, you were touching that woman's breast," she observed.
"It was a very nice breast," I replied, suddenly as annoyed with her prudery as with Lavenci's excesses.
"Women who let you do that usually want you to do a lot more, sir."
"Indeed, Constable? And here was I thinking the night had no promise."
"Oh sir!" she cried, stamping her foot.
"I must be on my way, Riellen. Will you be at the dance?"
"Sir, country dances are an ideologically correct manifestation of toiler-class solidarity against—"
"In Alberinese we say 'yes' or 'no.'"
"Yes sir."
I set off to the right, and wandered along the plaza. Skirting the dance crowd outside the Bargeman's Barrel, I turned in to the second lane beyond it. Nine hovels down, there was Norel-lie's sign. Now I turned back, deciding that Riellen could arrange the meeting between Norellie and I while I danced with Lavenci. If Riellen saw nothing, I would not get lectured about consorting with immoral lower-upper-class exploiters of upper-lower-class toilers. I returned to Wharfway Plaza, which was an open, cobbled space between the wharfside buildings and the river. The clear evening sky was already studded with the brighter stars and two moonworlds. Music spilled out from the crowd near the Bargeman's Barrel, and I recognized several morris dance tunes. Nearby, standing on a beer barrel, was Riellen, exhorting half a dozen drunks to go on a drinking strike to bring down the price of ale.
"Champion of lost causes, and a third of my command," I sighed to myself. She had managed to coax her listeners into a rousing chant, having failed to get them to hold the tune of a revolutionary song.
"What do we want?"
"Cheap ale!"
'''When do we want it? "
"Now!"
It was then that I saw it out of the corner of my eye, a thin, green streak of brightness coming out of the western sky, a brilliant point of light that left a glowing trail behind it. I had seen many shooting stars in my life, but none flew so slowly as this one.
It passed almost directly overhead, and I saw that it was roughly cylindrical, with the suggestion of shimmering wings extending to either side of it to about four times its length, in a V shape. A moment later it was lost to view behihd the buildings of the river port. I glanced around, noting that every other person on the waterfront was looking in the direction that the vanished shooting
star had traveled. I remember distinctly that the music had stopped, and that there was absolute silence all around me. Suddenly there were two fnighty thunderclaps. Now people began shouting and shrieking, gesturing to the sky, and pointing. The greenish trail above began to disperse, and then there was a rolling rumble in the distance. For some time people ran about, pointing east and talking about a shooting star failing.
"Shootin' star," said a man who was standing nearby, a straw hanging out of his mouth.
"Seemed the size of a carriage," I replied. "LUcky it didn't land on us."
"Reckon it come down in Waingram Forest," he said, staring up at the dispersing trail of green smoke with his hands on his hips.
"Is that far?" I asked.
"'Bout five miles from the town walls. Will ye be goin' there, bein' a Wayfarer inspector an' all?"
"Aye, I'd reckon," I said, without really thinking about it. "When?"
"Think I might wait till morning," I decided, in no mood to be floundering about in a forest during the night. "Besides, I'll need to hire a horse."
"Oh I'll loan one ter ye, and be yer guide. Name's Grem, I'm an ostler by trade. Been unloadin' hay from the River Princess!' He gestured to a grubby barge. "I'd like ter see a real star up close. Fancies a bit o' the cold sciences, I does."
"That's good of you, Grem. I'm Inspector Scryverin, of the Wayfarers."
"Done, then. Meet me in stablers' row at the market, about the ninth hour?"
'The ninth it is."
I had the impression that the cylinder had been a relatively small thing flying low, rather than something immense at a great height, so at that stage it was not a great wonder to me. Thus I was not particularly excited as I set off again, to fulfill my last obligation to Lavenci.
Chapter Four
ON WHARFWAY PLAZA
The taproom of the Bargeman's Barrel was like most other taprooms in most other taverns, that is, not able to accommodate more than a dozen dancers, even when the benches had been pushed against the walls and the tables had been turned into a stage for the musicians. Thus it was that the dance was being held in Wharfway Plaza, between the tavern and the wharf's edge. A bagpiper was playing a bracket of reels, totally drowning out half a dozen pipers and rebec players who were going through the motions of playing along. About three dozen couples were dancing in a double line while a substantial crowd of drinkers watched, clapped, cheered, waved tankards, and spilled ale. the taverner had set up a serving board beside the front door, and it was before this that Riellen suddenly appeared, at the head of her delegation of drunks. She presented the taverner with a petition demanding cheaper ale. She was told to go away. Actually the taverner expressed it a little less discreetly than that, and it was quickly established that negotiations would not be entered into. The taverner then set Riellen's petition afire, and his wife appeared, brandishing a cleaver. The drunks hastily abandoned Riellen; then Riellen finally abandoned the cause. After allowing a minute or so to pass I sauntered over to her. She was watching the dancers, her arms tightly folded, and her expression sullen.
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