by Mary Corran
‘I gather Councillor Hamon has already agreed to your proposal,’ he found Avorian saying as he turned back. ‘Perhaps, if you are willing to explain your reasoning, I, too, shall add my approval, and the amendment may be signed and sealed tonight; although it seems to me an odd detail with which to concern yourself at this time,’ he added, with a quizzical smile.
‘Certainly.’ Mallory was pleased to find the Chief Councillor so amenable; he wondered how Asher would react when she heard what he had planned. He thought by now he knew her well enough to imagine her response: pleasure and irritation combined. It was a view with which he had some sympathy. ‘It is a small matter, Chief Councillor, but one I consider justified, taking into account all the costs we save in the process.’ He outlined his proposals as they walked inland in the direction of the civic offices, Avorian nodding thoughtfully at several points. When he had finished, the Chief Councillor raised his hands and clasped them together.
‘Then do you agree?’ Mallory asked.
‘Why not?’ Avorian looked amused. ‘There is no cost to ourselves, and a benefit in goodwill. Councillor, I approve. Let it be done.’
It was, thought Mallory, almost impossible to believe the man a villain; only Asher’s warning that in different company Avorian was quite another person gave him pause, for he had seen for himself often enough the changes in a man he thought he knew well, but who became someone quite unfamiliar in other surroundings or company. Together they entered the Administration building, in a mood of perfect amity.
*
Asher stood at the top of a flight of steps, looking out over the collected heads of the crowd to where Mallory and Avorian stood on the quay. She was early for her meeting, but the day was bright and she had a rare leave of absence from the Treasury in recognition of the tribute monies recovered by herself and Margit; work on the city taxes remained to be done, but that was always a more leisurely affair than the tribute, and there were another two months before the accounts had to be completed.
The sea was in one of its rare benevolent moods, barely a ripple disturbing its glassy surface; the sun was warm, lighting the formal scene on the quay and making the giant transporters look like painted ships on a painted ocean, a backdrop for the playhouse near the cloth market. Asher wondered idly whether the new governor would prove more or less rigid than the present incumbent, but knew it would make little difference; the only issue at stake was for how long Darrian could withstand the burden of the tribute and hold off the inevitable subject status. Which in turn depended on whether Vallis was found; with which thought Asher turned to look for Mylura.
She saw her almost at once, coming from the direction of the old quarter, her usual energetic stride slowed by the black servant’s dress, constrained by the heavy flowing skirts. She waved at her and waited while the younger woman ran lightly up the steps.
‘Am I late?’ Mylura panted. ‘I went to see Jan, and I’d forgotten all this nonsense was going on today.’
‘No, I was just watching Mallory. See — there he is, in the blue, beside Avorian.’ Asher pointed. ‘Poor man, he must be bored. They’ve been there all afternoon.’
‘Do you want to stay and watch, or can we go and get something to eat? I’m starving!’
Asher grinned. ‘What a surprise. No, let’s go. This may go on for the rest of the day. Where?’
‘There’s a small inn behind the fish market that has good food, if you don’t mind the walk?’
‘Lead on.’
Shortly afterwards, ensconced in a small, dingy parlour which Asher was not surprised to find empty, Mylura greeted the arrival of a steaming plate of what looked to Asher like fish bones in dirty water with an inordinate amount of enthusiasm.
‘Don’t you want some?’ Mylla asked, surprised.
‘I never developed a passion for fish; it’s what comes of being brought up inland.’
Mylla shrugged. ‘Your loss. What are you grinning at?’
‘It’s just — you look so demure in that outfit.’
‘Never earn your living as a maid; it’s downright slavery, let me tell you, and for a pittance at that.’ She wiped her brow theatrically. ‘This is my first afternoon off in more than a week. And look at my hands!’ She held them up; they were, indeed, rough and red from her unaccustomed labours, although the dexterity with which their owner wielded her spoon suggested no serious injury.
‘You did volunteer,’ Asher said mildly. ‘Anyway, eat, and tell me what news you have.’
‘Not a great deal. It’s a very ordinary, well-run household, if larger than most; they eat, they sleep, they work, and I scrub, wash pots and dust.’
‘Are the other servants friendly?’
Mylura thought about the question. ‘Reasonably,’ she said at last. ‘A bit reticent, perhaps, but that’s common enough with a stranger, and I’ve only been there two weeks. It may be a little time before they loosen up.’
Asher was troubled by their lack of progress, sensing a need for urgency. ‘And do you see much of the family?’
Mylura shook her head. ‘The housekeeper gives us our orders, though I see the girl, Menna, sometimes because I do out her rooms. She’s very pleasant and always speaks politely to the servants, even me.’
‘And have you ever spoken to Avorian?’
Mylura rubbed a hand over her brow. ‘Once, after I’d been there a week. He asked me my name.’
‘And was that all?’
‘Yes.’ Mylura stopped eating, a sufficiently rare event for Asher to urge her to continue. ‘Why?’
‘I’m just curious, Mylla, in case he’s suspicious.’
Mylura’s face cleared. ‘Oh, I see. Sorry to be so slow, but I’m not used to all this hard work!’ She reached for her spoon once more. ‘Now, I have various pieces of family gossip which will interest you. First, young Menna is not Avorian’s daughter by his dead wife, Katriane, but was adopted by them at an early age and is said to be the Chief Councillor’s natural daughter by a mistress. It seems to be common knowledge, but happened so long ago nobody talks of it any more.’
‘Such things are common enough, but of course it increases the possibility that the girl is Vallis.’ It was so tempting to accept the obvious that Asher was wary, looking for flaws.
‘As you say, but I don’t know how we can prove it. Unless you want me to search Avorian’s private papers?’
‘No!’ Asher experienced an instant upsurge of anxiety at the suggestion. ‘Don’t even think about it; even if he kept such proofs, they’re bound to be warded. It’s far too dangerous. Is there anyone in the house who’s been there long enough to remember Menna when she was a baby, someone you could talk to? An old nurse, perhaps, or even the housekeeper?’
Mylla frowned. ‘No, only old Oban, the clerk, and he wouldn’t talk to me — he hates women. And I’d have no excuse. But surely somewhere in this city there must be someone who was here at the time? Avorian hasn’t always been Chief Councillor, but he’s been one of the Twelve for eighteen years, and I can’t believe such a piece of gossip would be quite forgotten, even after so long.’
‘See what you can find out. We must be able to prove Menna’s parentage one way or another.’ Asher added with a sigh, ‘I know Mallory still doubts Avorian’s involvement, and I can hardly blame him. It’s very frustrating.’
‘I’ll talk to the housekeeper again. I told her I’ve a doting but frail and sickly mother to support, and she’s been most sympathetic; she’s even given me several strengthening brews to try on her.’ Mylla laughed. ‘I gave them to Jan, and he said he’d sell them off as love-potions.’
‘What does your cousin think of all this?’
Mylla smiled and went pink; it always surprised Asher how easily she was embarrassed by mention of her personal life. ‘He’s happy enough — you know him. He doesn’t mind what I do as long as I come back to him, and we won’t take the oath until late-summer.’
It was difficult to envisage Mylla married, although ther
e was, of course, no reason such a union should change her. Asher wondered, suddenly, why her friend felt the need for a formal promise, what insecurity had persuaded her to take such a step.
‘And in case you want to know,’ Mylla said, looking fiercely down her nose at Asher, as if she could see into her thoughts, ‘it’s all Jan’s idea, not mine. I was quite happy with the way things were!’
Asher held up her hands for peace. ‘There’s no sign of Kerrick? Because you must leave Avorian’s house at once, if there’s any risk of his seeing you.’
‘No, he’s to stay in Chance for the summer — I heard Oban say so.’
‘Does Avorian have a mistress? You said his wife’s been dead for the past eight years, and I can’t believe he’d be without some companion for all that time.’
‘I’ll try to find out, although I’ve heard nothing.’ Mylla frowned. ‘You’re right, I hadn’t thought about it, but he must be very discreet or unusually restrained. His daughter acts as hostess when they entertain, so there’s no woman he cares to place ahead of her.’
‘Ask, but do take care.’ For no reason she could discern, Asher experienced an acute uneasiness, but the shifting patterns in her mind were still more often a mystery than helpful, and the sudden flare of warning she sensed was imprecise. ‘Mylla,’ she said on impulse, ‘don’t go back to the house. We’ll find another way to get the information we need.’
Mylura looked at her incredulously. ‘Not go back? But why, Ash? What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t know, I just have a feeling about this.’ She wished she could explain, but the day she had spent with Omond at Kepesake had only touched the surface of her ignorance about her unwanted gift. She looked at her friend in the black servant’s dress, which bore Avorian’s wolf’s head on a silver badge sewn on to the right shoulder, and knew she could not dismiss her fears. ‘It’s not safe,’ she tried.
‘But it’s the best chance we have,’ Mylla protested. ‘Anyway, I’ve a charmed life! Nothing will happen, Ash, stop fretting.’
Her brimming confidence helped to dispel a little, but not all, of Asher’s alarm. ‘But Avorian has Lassar, Mylla, and if he found out what you were up to ... ’
‘He won’t. And now I must get back. I only had leave for the afternoon.’ She stared down at the plate in front of her, as if surprised to find it empty. ‘I’ll do my best, and I will be careful. You’ll hear from me as soon as I’ve anything useful to tell.’ She rose firmly to her feet, plainly opposed to further argument.
‘Then take care.’ Asher placed a few coppers on the table, then got up and walked with Mylla back out on to the street, where she watched her make her way up the hill with mounting misgivings; it was true Mylla’s powers of self-preservation were extraordinary, but Avorian was a different kind of enemy from Kamiri frontier guards.
She found a quiet spot and wrote to Mallory, informing him what Mylura had reported and suggesting a meeting the following evening; sealing it, she selected a small boy from the many playing in the street and sent him on the errand with the promise of a reward from the recipient of the note. The boy ran off happily, tucking her letter into a distinctly ragged shirt.
The new Kamiri governor must at last have decided to disembark, for Asher saw the crowds down by the quay had dispersed. A fresh east wind had got up, as was usual as it grew dark, and she looked out to sea at the spectacle of the sun descending to the horizon, leaving a long red-gold trail on the water, a sight that never failed to satisfy her. There was a hush to the city at sunset, as if there was a real moment of change from day to night, something Asher had never felt inland. Then the lights began to spring up all along the harbour and up the hill, and Venture came alive once more, but to a different, dark existence.
It was time she went back to the hostel; although the days were growing longer as spring advanced, Asher felt less than easy in the twilight and quickened her pace. The streets were busy enough, but she wondered if some of Mallory’s often-expressed concern for her safety had begun to infect her, for she no longer felt secure in the city which had once seemed to offer her so safe a refuge. No one approached her, for she was protected by her dress, marking her as a working woman and not a prostitute, but she did not enjoy the old feeling of invisibility among the crowds as she walked, and she passed the Treasury building with a strong sense of relief; the hostel, with its company of forty women, offered powerful protection against an attack of nerves.
Music spilled out from open windows of the more prosperous houses, and in the distance the playhouse was alive with lights; several groups of young men prowled casually along the street in search of some amusement in the warmer evenings. It was all familiar, unchanged from previous years, but Asher was aware of an alteration in herself, a new wariness born of knowledge of her own vulnerability; if Avorian had any notion of her own and Mallory’s intent, this was his city. Since the public announcement of his contribution to the annual tribute, the Chief Councillor was enjoying a high level of popularity in Venture which made her own suspicions less credible than ever. One thousand five hundred years’ wages, she thought wearily. More than fifteen thousand gold pieces. No wonder Avorian was cheered wherever he went.
Popularity: could that be all he wants?
As she passed a noisy inn the doors burst suddenly open, disgorging several men on to the street, impeding her path. She drew back as whatever brawl had been the cause of their eviction was continued, with evident enthusiasm, by the four participants, for it was impossible to step past them. She waited, listening to the grunts and exchange of drunken insults of the quartet, wondering why they should feel brute force was a satisfactory means of deciding an argument. What, after all, was the value of strength if unallied to judgment? If force alone were proof of rightness, then the Kamiri were justified in their domination; they were the most powerful nation in the Dominion, as they had proved many times.
It’s all about control; if you’re stronger, you can make the weaker ones agree with you. The thought brought with it a resurgence of her old resentment against Sim and his kind, against the sort of men who believed their physical prowess gave them a moral superiority, as if aggression, by itself, without purposeful direction, was a valuable quality. She looked with loathing on the winner — the only man still on his feet — as he turned to survey her with bleary eyes, an invitation in the look. Asher lowered her gaze and began to step over the sprawling bodies, shaking off the hand that touched her arm.
‘What’s your hurry, pretty thing?’ he asked, his breath rolling towards her in a cloud of ale.
Wisely, she did not answer and merely ducked under an outstretched arm.
‘Earn yourself a copper or two — with a real man!’ he called after her; she lengthened her steps but could not resist making a backward vulgar gesture with her left hand. What, in the name of Fate, was a real man? She sighed to herself; her observation suggested real men had fewer wits and less humanity than the average.
There was no reason for the incident to have annoyed her so intensely, but it did. Why should she have to put up with such nonsense?
One day ...
‘Watch where you’re going!’
She had bumped into a slight figure as she turned down the side street leading to the hostel, but as she stepped back to apologize, she found a hand holding her fast.
‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
She gave Stern an angry look. ‘I don’t want to talk to you.’
He stood in the shadows at the corner of the street, her own figure hiding him from general view; only Asher could see his sour expression as bony fingers dug into the muscles of her forearm.
‘But you will talk, you’ve no choice.’ He pulled her closer into the shadows, and her skin crawled. ‘We made a deal, and we need you.’
‘I said never again, and I meant it.’ She tried again to pull away, but Stern, with greater strength than she would have expected, held her back; she felt panic rise, for a moment forgetting who he was
, digging the nails of her free hand into his. He gave a grunt of pain and let her go.
‘You don’t want to mean that. I warned you what would happen.’ He looked quickly to left and right, but there was no one in sight. ‘You be outside your hostel, in the alley, in three nights’ time, at midnight, or I inform on you to the Treasurer.’
‘If you do, I shall tell the Chief Councillor who robbed his warehouse,’ Asher countered, as calmly as she could. ‘I’d have nothing to lose, would I?’
‘Do you think he’d believe you?’
‘Yes.’
Stern’s eyes grew cold. ‘You’d not want me to tell Bull nor Club you said that,’ he advised unpleasantly. ‘They’d not be happy at being threatened.’
‘And nor am I!’
He suddenly swung her round and pushed her against the wall with an unnecessary amount of force, winding her. ‘You think yourself safe,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘In that house, with all those women round you. But there’s not a door in the city Hare can’t open, and ten of you wouldn’t be a match for Club and Bull. You be there, or they’ll come for you.’
‘No, I won’t do it, Stern.’ She had to stop to breathe in. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Be there, or you’ll be sorry.’ He shot her an unfriendly smile. ‘I’ll let Bull have a turn with you, before I inform.’
She could not disguise the shudder of revulsion that ran through her, but the threat removed any lingering fear. ‘Touch me once more and I’ll curse you, Stern,’ she hissed angrily, raising her left hand and pointing her index and little fingers at him. ‘To the end of your life. May your strength fail you and your legs grow crippled, may — ’
Her tirade was cut off by his hand across her mouth, but it had produced an effect for Stern paled. ‘Keep quiet!’ he said shakily. ‘No more. I swear, I’ll set the Bull on you.’
‘I know him — I know who he is. Tell him that, too.’ Asher pushed him away, his aggression turned to disquiet. ‘Now go, and leave me be! I won’t be involved in your games.’