Madness of Flowers
Page 50
He wished Kalliope would turn up. An excruciatingly polite but well-armed delegation of Tokhari elders had been waiting three days to see him, camped right next door in the Rugmakers' Guild complex. At the same time, he wished Ashkoliiz would vanish. The lynch mob would have numbered in the thousands had Imago freed her to walk down the street. But no one was willing to speak formally against her; or for her, for that matter. DeNardo refused to discuss it, while the last of the Northmen had died in his room, a strangled rat in his hand.
All in all, Imago thought, business as usual.
The evening bell rang, deafening him briefly as always. Within moments, the rest of the peal was picked up around the City. He went to the window and looked south.
The Limerock Palace was already being rebuilt. So far as he knew, Wedgeburr was still in there somewhere. Imago had sent a hundred gold obols as death geld to Imre's family. They turned out to be a very surprised mother and pair of sisters in a tiny apartment near Fish Trap Lane, apparently supported on Imre's modest salary.
Meanwhile, dwarfs were coming back up the river from Port Defiance in greater numbers, bringing their money and their heads for business with them. One of Onesiphorous' little distractions was his continuing involvement in a dwarfen colloquium in permanent session at the old Footsoldiers' Guild Hall.
The last miracle was that every shattered stump for miles around had sprouted a tall, strong sapling when the Jason-tree had vanished down into the ground. War, History, and Fertility had infused the City Imperishable, or so Onesiphorous had tried to explain to him. Most people didn't seem to know the difference, which Imago found profoundly disturbing.
A cannon shot echoed faintly through the glass of his window.
Imago cursed. He shouldn't even have turned a thought to war. He stared at the river.
Three big steamships, each with guns out and elevated, appeared around Dragoman Point.
Imago yelled for his clerk, yelled for Onesiphorous, yelled for that dreadful woman naval officer.
He leaned against the window while he waited, wondering with aching heart if he would ever see Marelle again.
"The City is," he whispered. On this day, no one answered.
THE END
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Madness of Flowers
Table of Contents
I: POLLINATION
II: GERMINATION
III: BLOSSOMING
IV: HARVEST