Whistler

by Roger Taylor

  ‘Allyn,’ a woman’s voice said.

  Chapter 20

  The woman was as tall as Vredech, with long black hair framing a slim, well-defined face. Her figure, too, was slim – though even dressed in a dark formal robe and cloak, the impression she gave was one of wiry toughness rather than willowy softness.

  The hand on his arm tightened a little in confirmation of this.

  ‘I was looking all around the congregation for you.’ Her voice fell to an amused whisper. ‘I didn’t think you’d be here in secret, but as soon as I saw you getting angry at the people standing around here I recognized you. There was no mistaking that posture.’

  Still preoccupied with his response to Cassraw’s sermon, Vredech stared at her vacantly for a moment. Then his mouth dropped open.

  ‘Nertha! What are you doing here?’

  The woman raised her eyebrows. ‘How nice to see you, Nertha. It’s been such a long time. How are you? Well, I hope.’

  Vredech floundered. ‘I’m sorry,’ he stuttered. ‘You caught me completely by surprise. I didn’t recognize… I mean, I never expected… I…’

  ‘Coherent as ever, Preacher,’ Nertha said mockingly, though the gentle taunt did not reach the brown eyes which were searching anxiously into the darkness of Vredech’s hood. Her hands rose a little, nervously, as though to throw it back, but changed their mind.

  Vredech looked around at the crowd. People were still leaving, but the number of those who were standing about waiting was growing.

  ‘I must get away from here before I do something foolish,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  A group of Cassraw’s Knights of Ishryth were standing by the gates and as Vredech and Nertha approached, one of them stepped forward.

  ‘Do you not wish to have your sins purged, pilgrim?’ he asked politely, but with an air of slightly surprised dismay.

  Vredech stiffened. ‘“At the Day of Judgement shall your sins be weighed and judged”,’ he said, quoting the Santyth. ‘And think on this, young man: “Follow no prophets, for I shall send ye none”.’ His voice was soft but the anger in it was unmistakable. The youth’s smile became vacuous and he glanced uneasily from side to side, as if searching for a response to this rebuke. Vredech gave him no opportunity to find one, but strode past purposefully. Two others who were approaching, obviously bearing the same gift, turned away sharply and headed towards easier prey.

  Nertha followed Vredech. ‘What in the world’s happening, Allyn?’ she asked, pacing easily alongside him. ‘I’ve never heard preaching like that before. And who are these people in the sashes?’

  ‘What are you doing here, Nertha?’ Vredech interrupted, the anger from his encounter with the youth still colouring his speech. He knew it for a mistake as soon as the words were spoken.

  ‘I’m here because House sent me a message saying she was worried about you,’ Nertha retorted, reflecting his anger back at him and adding her own. ‘Though I don’t know why I bothered. You always were a bad-tempered sod when the mood took you.’

  Vredech slowed down and raised his hand. ‘Peace, Nertha,’ he pleaded. ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid, answering your question, a lot’s been happening lately, not least within the last hour. And most of it bad.’ He put a hand to his head. ‘You must forgive me. My mind’s still reeling from what I’ve just heard. I can hardly believe it.’ Then, he forced himself to veer away from the subject and attempted some social nicety. ‘House worries too much, but it’s good to see you again, very good. I think about you…’

  ‘Every few months or so.’

  ‘A lot, I was about to say.’

  He stopped walking and threw back his hood. He was smiling, though the smile became a little strained as he watched Nertha’s eyes examining him shrewdly. They were filling with open concern.

  ‘I’ve been a bit out of sorts lately,’ he began defensively.

  ‘You look awful,’ Nertha pronounced.

  Vredech grimaced at the typical bluntness. ‘I’ve just been a bit off-colour,’ he persisted, taking her hand reassuringly and setting off again. ‘But I’m through it. I’m sure House has told you that I’m eating and sleeping properly now. Sheis my regular jailer, you know. And I presume you’ve seen her, since you apparently knew where to find me.’

  Nertha grunted, non-committally.

  They turned into a side street. It was very steep, obliging them to walk more slowly. The change of pace seemed to dissipate some of the tension between them. Vredech smiled again. ‘House shouldn’t have worried you – she knows I’m all right now. By the way, how did she know where you were?’ Without waiting for a reply he went on, a little too heartily, ‘Never mind. I mightn’t be married, but I know enough about the endless cunning of women. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be assisting your learned Felden doctor in his work instead of chasing across the country after me?’

  His manner forced a smile out of Nertha. ‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s packed me off.’ Vredech’s false geniality faded and his eyes widened with surprise and pending indignation. ‘He said he’d taught me all he could and that I’d have to learn on my own now,’ she added. The indignation became open admiration.

  ‘A considerable teacher,’ Vredech said. ‘I wish I’d had some like that when I was a novice. Some of them still haven’t let go. Still, there was no need for you to come all this way.’

  ‘Someone other than Ishryth has to keep an eye on you.’

  Vredech let out an exasperated breath. ‘Just like Father. As irreverent as ever, I see,’ he said.

  Nertha grinned. ‘You hear, you mean,’ she said, gently mocking again. ‘But I’ve most dutifully been to service today, haven’t I? And respectfully dressed, too.’ She swirled her cloak.

  Vredech eyed her suspiciously.

  ‘Mind you, that was only because I was visiting the sick,’ she said.

  ‘As irredeemable as ever,’ he concluded.

  ‘I’m afraid so, Brother brother. I’ve not seen anything yet that will make me change my mind. In fact, after what I’ve just heard I’m not only even less enchanted with Ishrythan and your chosen vocation, I’m quite alarmed.’

  It was an old debate, long exhausted between them, and substantially free from rancour now. Nertha had been found abandoned as a baby and had been taken in and reared by Vredech’s parents as one of their own. Though they knew of their true relationship, she and Vredech had grown up together as brother and sister and as friends – albeit at times stormy ones – an inevitable consequence of living under the influence of such a father. Only when Vredech had turned to the Church had there been any serious breach between them. Nertha, ironically taking more after her adoptive father than his true son, had taken much longer to come to terms with the decision. Subsequently she had gone to study medicine in Tirfelden under the aegis of a noted Felden physician.

  Vredech frowned. ‘That’s not the church, Nertha, that’s Cassraw. I don’t know what’s happening but…’ He gesticulated vaguely. ‘I have the feeling that I’m on some huge wagon that’s beginning to move, and which nothing will be able to stop until it comes to a terrible crashing end.’

  ‘Well, that’s quite dramatic, but not very helpful,’ Nertha said. ‘You wouldn’t care to be a little more specific, would you?’

  Vredech smiled faintly as he heard his father’s voice yet again. ‘I’d be delighted to be more specific,’ he said acidly. ‘But unfortunately I can’t be.’

  The top of the street opened out into a small square. Surrounded by buildings which were smaller than was typical in Troidmallos, the square had a pleasant, airy atmosphere, and offered an excellent view not only of the Ervrin Mallos, but also many of the neighbouring peaks. As was normal on Service Day, there were quite a few people ‘taking the air’. Some were sitting on benches, talking, reading, or dozing, while others strolled to and fro in a leisurely manner. Such children as were present were unnaturally stiff in their Service Day clothes and Service Day manners, and were patently unhappy.
/>   ‘Ah, the Madren at play,’ Nertha said.

  Vredech refused to rise to the bait. He felt suddenly as though a burden had been lifted from him.

  ‘I’m really glad to see you, Nertha,’ he said as the two of them instinctively slowed down to match the gait of the strollers. He looked at her intently. ‘You’re probably the only person I can speak to about what’s been happening, without you thinking I’m going mad.’

  Nertha smiled and did what she had been wanting to do since their first encounter. She reached up and touched his face. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she said.

  Vredech did not argue. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But that’s over with now. I told you, I’m through that.’ Briefly he became a small boy again. ‘Ask House, she’ll tell you I’m eating and sleeping properly now.’

  ‘Well, apart from your chronic religious mania, which goes on undiminished, you seem alert enough,’ Nertha conceded. ‘And you’re intriguing me with your hints and suggestions.’ She linked his arm. ‘Tell me everything.’

  And, as they walked on through the town, he did.

  Even as he talked, Vredech was more than a little surprised that his tale did not emerge into the daylight sounding awkward and embarrassed, a night phantom which shrivelled at the touch of the sun. As he had when young, he told her everything that he could recall. Not logically – for it was hardly a logical tale – but at least chronologically. Once and once only did she look at him narrowly to see whether this was some kind of a joke on his part. She did not look thus again, and on the few occasions afterwards when she seemed inclined to interrupt, she remained silent.

  As did they both for some time after he had finished. ‘I see what you mean about being thought mad,’ Nertha said eventually. ‘If it wasn’t for the fact that I know you so well, and that you’ve no imagination worthy of the name, and if I hadn’t heard Cassraw’s bizarre sermon with my own ears, I’d probably have concluded you were.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But I don’t know,’ Nertha said. ‘My eyes tell me you’ve been ill without a doubt. My head tells me you’ve probably had some kind of a brain fever. But my heart…’

  She looked around. They were walking along a tree-lined avenue, through one of the most prosperous parts of the Haven Parish. Stout timber balconies on corbelling stonework, ornate windows and decorated doors, steep roofs broken by ranks of delicate chimneys and occasional, seemingly random, turrets and spires, marked the houses of the area, both private and community, that stood with unassailable confidence amid their well-tended gardens. Now and then, an expensive carriage trotted past the two walkers. No fantasy could survive such conspicuous reality. Yet…

  ‘My heart tells me something else. Even here, there’s something odd… in the wind. I don’t know what it is.’ Nertha suddenly pulled a wry face. ‘It’s probably because I’ve been fretting about you for days, while I’ve been travelling, that’s all. I can’t, in all conscience, bring myself to believe in this Whistler character you’ve invented. It’s just not possible.’

  ‘You know everything there is to know about reality then, do you?’ Vredech asked, immediately wishing he could bite back the words. Her familiar assertive tone had provoked him a little, but he didn’t want to become involved in a pointless debate.

  ‘I know there’s a difference between discussing interesting possibilities into the early hours of the morning with friends, and actually believing in them,’ she replied, more gently than he had expected, as if she, too, wanted to avoid one of their old arguments. ‘I must start from where I am.’ She held out both her hands, unbalancing Vredech slightly. ‘I must take these and what they can touch as real – philosophical considerations notwithstanding. I must fix a point to stand on even if I concede that it’s arbitrary, you know that. That’s why…’ She waved her hand to end the remarks, and returned to her main concern.

  ‘It’s odd that you’ve started to dream after all these years. Perhaps, as you say, it’s some trick of your mind that’s making you discuss problems with yourself that you can’t otherwise face. I’ve known similar things in patients before, and we all do it to some extent. Whatever the cause, whatever the… reality… I can see no harm coming from just… listening… to such inner debates – thinking about them.’ She looked at him anxiously. ‘If you’re at ease with that.’

  Vredech smiled. ‘I am… reasonably,’ he said. ‘Though it’s taken its toll to get that far, as you can see. And don’t worry, Cassraw might think that Ishryth spoke to him on the mountain, but I’m not mad enough to go telling anyone except you what’s been happening to me.’ He laid his hand over hers, still linked through his arm. ‘But the Whistler was intensely real. Very different from a dream. Or at least the dreams I’ve been having – entering – anyway. I seized his wrist at one point – he felt very solid, and very strong – and I could still smell the evening flowers from that hillside when I… came back. I have to follow father’s advice – keep an open mind. Can you do that?’

  Nertha raised her eyebrows as though she had just been given the benefit of the wisdom of a precocious four year old. ‘Mekeep an open mind? I shan’t even grace that with an answer, you shaman,’ she retorted with affected indignation.

  ‘You just dismissed it all out of hand a moment ago,’ Vredech reminded her.

  Nertha floundered. ‘Not completely. I said…’

  ‘You dismissed it out of hand. “Just not possible”, you said.’

  Nertha’s mouth briefly became a straight peevish line. ‘That was just…’

  ‘A manner of speaking?’

  ‘A first reaction to a very strange story,’ she replied sternly. ‘Which, you’ll concede, it is. If one of your flock had brought it to you, what would you have done?’

  Vredech accepted the point.

  ‘I’ll keep my mind open all right,’ Nertha went on, quite intense now, ‘because I trust you completely and because I trust that’s the way through to the truth of what’s going on. Speaking of which, if, as you say, you seem to be over whatever was troubling you, then I think perhaps you need to turn your mind to some serious practical problems.’

  ‘Cassraw, you mean?’

  ‘Cassraw indeed,’ Nertha replied. ‘The man’s raving, and, with his talent for oratory, probably dangerous. Who knows what harm’ll come of it if people start to believe him?’

  Vredech grimaced. ‘I’ll have to go to the Witness House tomorrow. Talk with Mueran. Not that I think he’s going to be much use, but it’s church business and I can’t do anything on my own.’ The grimace became a frown. ‘That wretched Sheeter Privv was there too. He must have smelt something in the wind. Cassraw’s sermon was grotesque enough but I shudder to think of the version that will be all over Troidmallos tomorrow.’ He stopped suddenly and looked keenly at Nertha. ‘That’s what you said, isn’t it? Something in the wind.’

  Nertha returned his gaze with studious blandness. Vredech recognized the look.

  ‘My turn,’ he said knowingly. ‘What did you mean?’

  Nertha wrinkled her nose and made a vague gesture with her free hand. ‘Nothing,’ she said, after rather too long a pause. ‘It was just…’ The hand waved again.

  ‘A manner of speaking?’ Vredech offered again.

  Nertha nodded. ‘In this case, yes,’ she agreed, now avoiding his gaze.

  ‘You were a little out of sorts with the travelling? Concern for your Brother brother?’

  ‘Yes, I…’ She stopped and coloured a little.

  Vredech went on in the same helpful tone. ‘You thought you could fob me off with any old tale?’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Nertha said darkly. ‘I’m sorry. I should know better than to try to out-wriggle you, you worm.’

  Vredech became unexpectedly serious. ‘Open minds, Nertha,’ he said. ‘It’s important.’

  ‘Why the concern over a trivial remark, Allyn?’ Nertha asked.

  ‘Nothing’s trivial, Nertha, we both know that. Only from the least can come the
greatest. You made the remark; it’s come back to me, you’re embarrassed by it. It’s enough. Bear with me. Tell me why you said there was something odd in the wind.’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Nertha said, after a long pause. ‘It’s just a feeling I have. It may be, as you said, the travelling, the worrying. I don’t know.’

  Vredech waited. They had left the Haven Parish and were nearing his own Meeting House. The high clouds overhead were thickening, taking from the streets the faint wash of pleasant sunlight. A breeze had started to blow, bringing with it a slight chill.

  Nertha made a peculiar gesture. She ran her thumb across the tips of her fingers as though testing the delicacy of fine silk. ‘I have this feeling of… difference… all around,’ she said. ‘Almost as if something’s actually in the air. I can’t explain it. Something wicked coming. It’s not nice, Allyn. It’s a bad feeling.’

  Once he would have taunted her mercilessly for such a remark, and a fine quarrel would have ensued. Now, he simply pressed her hand.

  ‘A bad feeling,’ she repeated, almost talking to herself now. ‘That’s why I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I never do.’ She turned to Vredech. ‘They’re not usually a good omen, my bad feelings. They frequently mean I can’t help someone any further.’

  Vredech met the pain in her eyes. Dealing with suffering was ground common to them both.

  ‘But that’s people you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘Your own kind. Not a town.’

  Nertha shook her head. ‘It’s me,’ she said. ‘Me, being open to whatever’s around me. Picking up the signs too subtle for my eyes, my ears, my nose, my hands.’

  Vredech smiled slightly. ‘So you brought your reason to bear on your intuition in the end, did you?’

  Nertha shrugged. ‘They don’t exclude one another. Besides, the whys and the wherefores aren’t important. It’s the trusting that matters. And I do trust these feelings. Even when they’re wrong, the fault’s usually mine – misunderstanding, doubting, failing to accept things as they are.’ She closed her eyes as if gathering courage. ‘Don’t ask me to be specific, Allyn, but something has happened… or is happening. Something bad.’