by Roger Taylor
'A dangerous one,’ Leck said. ‘I've told you, he's a pack leader. And he's stronger now by far than he was when we first met him. He's not like anyone we've ever dealt with before.'
Privv scowled. ‘You worry too much,’ he said. ‘We've dealt with worse than him in the past. We'll be all right if we keep our wits about us.’ He nodded sagely. ‘And don't forget, whatever it is he's up to, we've already made a lot of money out of it, and we're likely to make a lot more.'
He yawned noisily and stretched himself. ‘I'm going to have a sleep, then I think I'll visit my esteemed colleagues and give them my condolences, before I go to the PlasHein.'
He swung his feet up on to his desk again and closed his eyes.
He was counting the night's takings yet again as he drifted into sleep.
* * * *
Vredech entered Mueran's office feeling decidedly uncomfortable. It had been his intention after hearing Cassraw's sermon to speak to Mueran about it. He could not have done otherwise following such a flagrant flouting of the church's long tradition of not interfering in lay matters. Now however, after reading the version printed in Privv's Sheet, he found himself almost in the position of defending Cassraw.
He was more than a little relieved to see that Morem and Horld were there also, and that a copy of Privv's sheet lay on Mueran's desk. It would be much easier to join in this discussion than start it.
Mueran nodded a cursory greeting and waved Vredech to a seat. ‘I can't believe that Brother Cassraw actually said these things, or even implied them,’ he was saying.
'Nor I,’ Horld said. ‘Privv's capable of writing anything, I should know that.'
'But there must be some semblance of truth to it,’ Morem interjected. ‘What else could have prompted this Privv to write such things?'
Horld threw a coin on to the desk. ‘Money,’ he grunted. ‘That's all. These Sheets are being sold all over the place. I'd swear he's printed about twice as many as usual.'
'I'm afraid there is some truth to it,’ Vredech announced. ‘I was there—I heard Cassraw's sermon.'
At any other time, the idea of one preacher attending another's sermon would have provoked some good-natured banter, but the atmosphere in the room was too fraught for that. All eyes turned to him. ‘I'd heard he was going to talk about the murder,’ Vredech explained, rather self-consciously. ‘I was concerned, so I went cloaked just to hear for myself.'
Mueran was waving his hand. ‘The reasons aren't important,’ he said. ‘I'm sure they were sincerely judged. Thanks be that you were there. Tell us what you heard, then perhaps we can decide what to do next.'
Vredech gave them the gist of Cassraw's sermon. When he had finished, his small audience was looking both relieved and distressed.
Mueran was shaking his head. ‘It was a reckless thing for Brother Cassraw to do,’ he said. ‘Well meant, I'm sure, but reckless.’ He tapped the Sheet in front of him. ‘As these consequences show.’ He put his hands to his head. ‘I'm at a loss to know what to do for the best,’ he told them. ‘We should really ask Brother Cassraw to account for his actions before the assembled Chapter, but in view of this travesty that's been so widely published, I feel we should also be defending him. It's really very ...'
A knock interrupted him and a head appeared round the door. He looked up irritably.
'Brother Cassraw's here, Brother Mueran,’ the head said. ‘He'd like to see you.'
'Show him in,’ Mueran said, raising a beckoning hand. The head disappeared. ‘I think we should sort out as much of this as possible, informally and between ourselves, before we make any public announcements.'
There was no time for anyone to respond, however, for Cassraw was already striding into the room. His expression was one of both pain and contrition but the authority of his presence filled the room. Mueran and the others seemed momentarily overawed but, to his horror, Vredech felt a violent antagonism rising unbidden within him. He drove his fingernails brutally into his palms in an attempt to stop it.
Cassraw held out a copy of Privv's Sheet. ‘My friends—what can I say about this? To be thus traduced. The shame of it.’ He clenched his fist. ‘I have spoken to the man this very morning and given him the measure of my reproach. I trusted him in this matter and he has betrayed me.'
'And will again,’ Horld declared. ‘The man corrodes all he touches. He's free of all restraint. I thought it was unwise of you to allow him into the Witness House after your ... brief illness ... but I'd not taken you to be so naive as to actually trust him.'
Cassraw lowered his head.
'It's fortunate we have a true witness to your sermon, Brother, or our meeting now could have been a far more serious affair.’ Mueran had recovered his composure and was gathering confidence as he saw Cassraw apparently yielding before Horld's reproach. ‘However, we're still faced with your blatant disregard for the ways of the church in bringing lay matters to the pulpit. I am sure you must realize that some form of rebuke is inevitable.'
'I understand,’ Cassraw said.
Mueran's confidence was gathering now with each word. ‘I'm sure that your motives were well-intentioned and that you realize now the error you made.’ He nodded his head paternally. ‘We've all done foolish things in our younger days—it's one of the ways we acquire wisdom. And the church, being older than all of us, is wiser, too, and that's why its ways should not be set aside, no matter how urgent or tragic the needs of the moment might seem.'
Cassraw looked up slowly. ‘I understand,’ he said again. ‘I'm humbled by your understanding, and grateful. With your permission, I shall go to one of the chapels and give thanks that I am so supported in my time of pain.'
* * * *
Later, as Vredech rode slowly down from the Witness House, his thoughts were uncharitable. Cassraw's presence at the meeting seemed to have overwhelmed everyone. His regrets, his gratitude, had somehow deflected all four of his listeners from an objective approach to what had happened.
Now, swaying gently through the warm afternoon, Vredech was viewing the matter differently. Mueran's concern about how the church should respond to the problem of Privv had dominated the meeting, and Cassraw had not even been questioned about his true offence—his ranting sermon about the vision of a Gyronlandt united under the Church.
Despite himself, Vredech suspected that the whole affair had been engineered with that in mind. Thoughts of the Whistler and his strange message began to return to him in the mountain silence.
'He's one of you. A priest.'
And then there was Jarry's fearful claim about the return of Ahmral. Try as he might, Vredech could not set all this aside with a smile at his own folly. Thank Ishryth that Nertha was here. Her acid touch would dissolve his problems.
Or etch them into a stark contrast.
* * * *
Later still, Toom Drommel gave a rousing speech in the PlasHein, rebuking the Ploughers for persisting in their foolish plan, with all the harm it would do to the workers of Canol Madreth, and rebuking the Castellans for their hesitancy in implementing their plan when his party had agreed to support it. The leaders of the Castellan Party were perspiring freely when he had finished and, in the gallery above, Privv was smiling broadly and turning over some robust phrases of his own.
* * * *
That night, further damage was done to the property of the two Sheeters who had been attacked previously.
And another young man was brutally murdered.
* * *
Chapter 22
Privv banged the table furiously. ‘You can't do this!’ he shouted. ‘Dragging me here as though I were some common brawler.'
Skynner's jaw tightened. ‘I can and I have,’ he said, ominously quietly. ‘And you haven't been dragged anywhere, you've been officially escorted here because you were interfering with my men when they were trying to do their jobs.'
'Their jobs! What about mine? That's all I was doing—trying to find out what had happened so that I could let the people
know,’ Privv persisted.
It had been a grim day so far, with every prospect of it becoming worse, and Skynner's patience suddenly ran out. He was fingering his baton dangerously as he stood up and towered over the protesting Sheeter. ‘What the hell's this got to do with the people, whoever they are!’ he thundered.
Privv quailed. He was not unused to people trying to intimidate him, but Skynner was large and powerful, and he had genuinely lost his temper. Further, it was an oft-reported fact that Keepers were not above delivering summary justice to some of their customers in the quiet of the Keeperage. Whether it was true or not, Privv had no idea, but he had certainly reported it often enough. Further still, and as he knew for certain, Skynner, being an empowered public official, had an ample supply of minor statutes and by-laws with which he could quite legitimately make life very difficult should he choose. The Sheeter decided not to make any attempt to answer Skynner's question.
The Serjeant was still fingering his baton as he continued. ‘It's got to do with the friends and relatives of the poor devil who's been murdered. And it's got to do with us because it's our job to make sure that we catch the other person it has something to do with, namely the man who did it.'
Despite himself Privv risked a word. ‘The people need to know so they can protect themselves while this lunatic's at large.'
It was a mistake.
Skynner's eyes narrowed and he spoke with great deliberateness. ‘All anyone has to do to protect themselves, as far as we can tell at the moment, is to avoid going down dark alleys with prostitutes. But it may not have escaped your eagle Sheeter's eye that since the first murder, almost every man in Troidmallos is sporting a cudgel, or a knife, or even a sword!’ He shouted the last word.
'That's no crime,’ Privv blundered on.
'I'm well aware of that!’ Skynner blasted. ‘Nor is it remotely necessary. Now, every other routine drunken squabble my men have to deal with is three times more dangerous than before. And I'll wager that there are more than a few women walking around with knives about their person where once there'd been some lady's flim-flam.'
Privv looked at him sullenly and returned to his original argument. ‘Well, that's nothing to do with me,’ he whined. ‘People are still entitled to protect themselves and to know what's going on. And running a Sheet is a right.'
Skynner bared his teeth in a scornful sneer. ‘Oh yes? One of our most ancient rights, is it? At least fifteen, twenty years old, eh? Those who wanted to know used to be able to find out everything they needed by looking at the posting boards. And don't talk to me about your rights. Any right carries a corresponding responsibility. I've never noticed you being quite as anxious to exercise the one as the other.'
But Privv was not going to let go. ‘Don't lecture me, Keeper, until you're looking to your own responsibilities a bit more—such as being out hunting for that murderer instead of harassing honest citizens going about their legitimate business.'
For a moment Skynner looked as though he were debating not whether he should use his baton on Privv, but merely how hard and how long. Then, suddenly, he smiled and sat down again. ‘You're absolutely right, Sheeter Privv,’ he said politely. ‘And I'm sure that we can rely on your cooperation.'
He opened a drawer in his desk and after rooting round for a moment, produced a sheaf of papers. He began thumbing through them diligently, finally selecting one which he proceeded to read with great care. Once or twice he looked up at Privv, as if checking something, then nodded his head and returned to the paper.
Eventually he put it down, though he kept glancing at it from time to time as he spoke. Privv craned forward as much as he dared in an attempt to read it, but Skynner absently laid a hand across it. ‘You'll understand, I'm sure,’ he said, ‘that dealing with such an horrific incident is very disturbing for my men. It takes a toll of them. I have to protect them as much as I can. I get quite ... fatherly ... about it.’ He leaned forward confidentially. ‘They see sights that really shouldn't be seen, and the last thing they need is someone coming round asking all manner of questions that they can't begin to answer. I'd ask you therefore, as a good citizen, to stay away from my men, and of course from the scene of the murder, until they've had time to complete their very unpleasant tasks.'
Privv looked at him suspiciously, far more disturbed by this measured appeal than he had been by the previous ranting. ‘For their sake, you understand,’ Skynner concluded. Then he became affable. ‘If you're interested in knowing how the young man died, then from my own cursory examination it seems that his assailant stabbed him ...'
There followed a short but extremely unpleasant list of stab wounds and their locations, followed by a list of mutilations and a description of the internal organs exposed to view as a consequence. Skynner's matter-of-fact delivery served merely to heighten the horrors of this information. Privv clenched his fists and his stomach and glanced at the door.
'Would you like to sit down?’ Skynner said after a moment, his face concerned.
Privv accepted the offer. ‘It was worse than the other one, then?’ he managed, hoarsely.
Skynner nodded, then his face brightened. ‘If you like, I can take you to the buriers. The body should be there by now. And I've asked the Town Physician to examine it this time. I've nothing like his experience, of course. I've probably missed a lot, there was so much damage. It's amazing what he can unearth from a corpse with a good knife, a saw, and a bit of effort.’ He pulled his clenched fists apart as if tearing something. ‘I'm sure you'd find his work very interesting. You might even like to write about it.’ He stood up and held out his arm as if motioning Privv to the door, but his visitor showed little inclination to leave his seat.
'I don't think so. No, thank you. Perhaps some other time,’ he said weakly.
Skynner sat down again, nodding understandingly. ‘As you wish, though I doubt you'll get another chance as good as this one. Still, it's up to you. I didn't want you to go away with the idea that I was unwilling to discuss our work with you.’ He smiled beatifically. There was a brief silence.
'I'll be leaving then, if you've finished with me,’ Privv said, struggling to lever himself up from his chair.
'Actually, there is one thing, while you're here,’ Skynner said, looking down at the paper again. ‘I wonder if you can help me with another matter? Fortunately it's not as unpleasant as this latest happening, but it is serious and I'm particularly anxious to get to the bottom of it.'
Something in his tone expedited Privv's recovery. ‘What is it?’ he asked, his voice sharper than he had intended.
Skynner looked at him squarely. ‘You've probably heard already that the night before last, two of your fellow Sheeters—your main rivals, as I understand it—were attacked and injured. Also their property, including their printing presses, was badly damaged. So badly in fact that neither of them was able to produce a Sheet today.’ He shrugged resignedly. ‘This kind of thing happens from time to time, as you know. Robbers entering houses and doing violence and damage. But it's not all that common, and for two such attacks to occur on the same night and to the same kind of people, makes it ... very unusual.'
Privv held Skynner's gaze. He went on. ‘What you've probably not heard yet is that the robbers returned again last night and did further, more extensive damage, particularly to the printing presses. I don't fully understand these things, but it seems that your colleagues will be unable to pursue their livelihoods for quite some time as a consequence.'
Privv was tempted to mouth some platitude at this point, but he remained silent.
'Now I know that there's a great deal of rivalry between Sheeters,’ Skynner said, in a speculative tone. ‘Friendly, I'm sure. But, as you yourself have had cause to write about in the past, business rivalries can sometimes get quite seriously ... out of hand. “The love of money is Ahmral's gift,” as the Santyth says. And as these attacks bear all the hallmarks of such over-enthusiastic rivalry, I was wondering if there was anything un
toward happening in your little community that might throw some light on events?'
Unpleasant knots began to form in Privv's stomach. He pulled a massively thoughtful face for fear that anything else should show on it. ‘No,’ he said after a moment. ‘I've heard of nothing. We Sheeters are thinkers, men of ideas and words, not market-traders. We're not naturally inclined to violence.'
Skynner's face was impassive. ‘Nothing, then?’ he said slowly.
Privv shook his head. ‘I'm sorry I can't help you. I've no idea who'd do such a thing.’ He improvised. ‘You don't think I might be in any danger, do you?’ he said, looking appropriately alarmed.
'To be honest, until I find out more about what's happening, I think it would be foolish of me to reassure you,’ Skynner said. ‘It would probably be advisable for you to check how solid your doors and windows are, and to be careful to whom you open the door.'
Privv nodded earnestly. ‘I'll do as you suggest, straight away. Is there anything else you want from me?'
'No, I don't think so,’ Skynner replied. And he allowed Privv to get halfway to the door before he said, ‘Oh, there was one other thing.’ He clicked his tongue in self-reproach. ‘I nearly forgot, it's been such a busy day.’ He rooted through his desk again and pulled out another piece of paper. ‘Could you tell me where you were last night and the night before.’ He poised a pen over the paper.
Privv walked towards him slowly. Skynner answered his question before he asked it. ‘I'll tell my superiors what you've said, but in the meantime they've asked me to find out what all the Sheeters were doing when these attacks happened. Don't be offended.’ He smiled. ‘It's just that we have to be quite painstaking in our investigations.’ He was quite pleased that he managed to keep a heavy emphasis off the word ‘our'.
Privv briefly considered arguing the point but decided against it. This encounter with the forceful reality of the law had unsettled him and he was more than a little anxious to be away from Skynner's intimidating presence.