Outher looked at his half-full glass in surprise. "You are thirsty, Calanthe!"
"Yes, burying is thirsty work." Outher had the grace to look abashed. I said no more and went to the bar. The pot-har slouched over to me after leaving me waiting for maybe a minute. I watched him fulfill my order with the same amount of enthusiasm. Ale splashed over my hands as he handed me the glasses. "Tell me," I said, "is the Garridan Liss-am-Caar staying here?"
The pot-har gazed at me stupidly. I sighed and threw a spinner onto the bar where it rolled for a full insulting twelve seconds before lying still. The pot-har continued to stare.
"Well?" I enquired sweetly.
"Who wants to know?" he said at last.
"I do."
"And who are you?"
"A potential customer of his wares."
The pot-har continued to eye me with suspicion. "And what wares are those?" he asked, with undiminished surliness.
"Look." I said. "I haven't much time. Just tell him, will you! You don't have to be afraid. I'm not Gelaming. I'm a Varr. I just want to buy. No questions either side. Do you understand?" The pot-har stared me in the eye. I stared back.
"You want I should send him to your table?"
"No!" I hissed emphatically. "Have you a yard here?"
The pot-har pointed sullenly to a half concealed door to the right of the bar.
"Ten minutes," I said. The pot-har shrugged.
"If he's in. I'll have to try his room."
"Yes, you do that!"
I took the drinks back to the table. Outher asked what I'd been doing. I lied glibly about some flirtation with the pot-har. Outher grinned at me engagingly. Such a simple soul. I watched the clock above the bar.
Nearly time. After nine minutes, Outher said, "Calanthe, you really are special."
"Yes, thank you," I said. "Look I just have to buy a couple of things. Hang on here for me, will you?"
"But I..." Obviously more profound sentiments were about to erupt.
"I won't be long."
"That's alright. I'll come with you. It's no bother."
"No! I mean, no, don't trouble yourself. Anyway, I want to buy something for us to eat tonight. It's going to be a surprise."
Outher smiled. He really is quite handsome. "OK, if you're sure."
I smiled and held up my hand. "Five minutes," I said.
I thought it safer to leave The Stone by the front door and hope that there was another way into the yard from out front. I had to be careful not to arouse any suspicions in Outher. Luckily, there were a couple of hara carrying barrels of ale through an open door in the wall. I followed them into the yard. It had been cleared of snow and strewn with ashes. I stood stamping and shivering for what seemed an eternity before a light touch on my shoulder made me spin round, half-afraid it would be Outher. It wasn't. In daylight, the lean face of the Garridan seemed even cruder, more snake-like, but seeringly attractive. I could see easily the mark of his Uigenna history in his eyes. Perhaps we had even met before. It was possible.
Inspired, I held out my hand and said, "In meetings hearts beat closer," which was an old, cliched but authentically-Uigenna catch-phrase. Liss-am-Caar raised his brow fastidiously.
"In blood, brother," he responded. "You're a long way from home, friend."
"As are many," I replied. Now, I hoped he would not try to cheat me.
He asked my business.
"Should you ask?" I replied.
He smiled thinly. "Only the result, my friend, only the result."
"Not death," I said.
Liss-am-Caar registered no expression. "Then I can only offer Blood-shade, Diamanda and Rauspic." Only two of those names were familiar to me, and I was also familiar with their side-effects. Death may even be preferable.
"I need sleepers not shriekers," I said mildly. "What is this Diamanda?"
"Perhaps what you require, although the sleep is deep. The dosage is crucial, for heavy-handedness whilst dosing could initiate a sleep deeper than might be required."
"That should suffice. How much?"
"That depends upon how much you want."
"Enough for ten, I think."
The Garridan did not flicker. "A hundred spinners then."
"What!"
He shrugged. "Sleepers are more expensive. I could sell you Acridil for a mere three spinners and you could administer maybe a hundred doses."
I reflected for a few moments. Should I? No. I remembered the shadow that had been on my tail through Thaine. Chances were, once out of Fallsend and in the open country, vigilance on the part of my pursuers would be stepped up. I could not risk causing another death. I'd already been through enough for the ones I'd initiated in the past. Arno Demell was more than enough for one town. "Diamanda for three, a light dose; how much?"
"A light dose? Should be thirty, but I'll give it to you for twenty-five."
Sighing, I handed over the better part of my savings. The Garridan counted it thoughtfully. He opened his bag and gave me three twists of paper. "This is a child's dose," he said, holding up one twist.
"And how will that affect a fully grown Mojag?" I asked.
The Garridan whistled through his teeth. "Ah, you're cutting close to the bone there! A light doze for half an hour, maybe."
I sighed again. It would just have to be enough.
"The advantage is, of course," the Garridan continued, "that should anyone wake up from a Diamanda sleep, they'll be groggy for ten minutes or so, no matter how light the dose."
"Thanks!" I said, glumly.
"Pleased to do business with you!" Liss-am-Caar touched his brow politely and turned away.
"Oh, one more thing, Tiahaar," I said. He turned.
"Yes."
"Who is the Lion of Oomadrah?" There was an electric silence. The Garridan's face was stony. He looked briefly around the yard.
"A changed person, my friend," he said. "In view of your history, you would do well to stay out of Maudrah. The Lion has sharpened his claws, but he never laughs nowadays. If you're looking for old friends, come to Garridan. Here, have my card."
I took it. "Thanks again," I said.
"Any time, my friend. Goodbye." He went back indoors.
I hurried back into the street and recklessly spent a further three spinners at the food stalls. Outher was looking very harried when I went back into The Stone, perhaps afraid I'd ditched him. "A long five minutes," he said.
"I'm sorry," I purred. "Listen, I have the whole day free. Do you want to go back to Piristil now?" That brought the smile back to his face; he didn't know I was thinking how much more preferable it would have been making that offer to the Garridan Liss-am-Caar.
We sat and talked beside my fire, mostly about what I was going to prepare for our meal; an engrossing topic, as you can imagine. I was still indulging in casual fantasies about the Garridan, even as I discussed with Outher the superiority of Fallsend chicken-meat to Fallsend pork. After what I considered to be a suitable time, I went to sit on Outher's lap to share breath with him. He cupped my face with his hand. "You're too good for this place," he said.
"Yes," I agreed and slipped my hand inside his leather shirt. "No, don't do that now," he said gently. "Calanthe, I have something to say to you. In the spring, I'm going back to Mojag. Someone else will take my place here. I'd like you to come home with me."
I laughed. "Outher, this session is for free, OK. You don't have to say things like that!"
He flushed angrily. "I'm not joking, Calanthe! I want you, but not just for a sordid night. I want you forever. It's terrible thinking of what you have to do here. Tell me now, will you or won't you? There won't be many chances for you like this here."
"Oh, I know that! But this is unexpected, Outher. So quick. Have I made such an impression upon you this afternoon?"
"You are laughing at me."
"Well, you must admit, it's hard to take your suggestion seriously. After all, we've
only just met really."
He looked perplexed, wondering how to convince me. I resolved to let him suffer for a
while. How could I be so lucky? I felt like leaping up and dancing round the room, but
not for the reason Outher would want.
"It sounds so corny," he said, "but I wanted you from the moment I first saw you." He
was right; it did sound corny.
I smiled. "Do you think I'll like life in Mojag?"
"Anything's better than this, surely!"
I lay back on the rug and stretched. I made him wait for as long as possible before saying, "Alright, if you're sure you mean it. This isn't going to be retracted after tonight, is it?"
Outher stood up. "Now you've said yes, there won't be a tonight," he said. "When we take aruna together, it will be when this place is far behind you!"
"Fine," I said, thinking, you get away from that door, idiot; you don't get away that easily. "Look, you don't have to go just because we're not going to leap in the bed or runkle the carpet! Let's get to know each other a little, shall we? Tell me about Mojag. Come on, sit down. I've got all this wretched food now and there's some wine chilling on the window-sill." I snuggled up against him again and let him bore me stiff rambling on about Mojag, a place that seemed tedious to the point of incredibility. I made a mental note never to go there. I've met many hara who are more masculine than they should be; sometimes they can carry it off pretty well. Mojags reminded me of the worst type of men who were probably (and thankfully) the first to be removed neatly from the face of the earth when Wraeththu rose up and splatted the humans. Mojags are a complete waste of harish time. Sorry Outher, you've been put together very nicely physically but your brain would be more at home floating, chopped up, in soup. After he'd exhausted himself talking, we sat quietly and watched the fire. He thought we were sharing a peaceful, silent moment together, but my mind was racing, planning, trying to take advantage of this incredibly fortuitous event. Outher was my key for Panthera's locked room. "What do you do in the evenings?" I asked.
"Drink mostly!" He laughed and I tittered impishly, flapping my eyelashes in what Kruin would have thought was a demented manner. "There's little entertainment to be found here," he continued woefully. "Most nights we have to listen to what goes on in Panthera's room. You have to get drunk to put up with that!"
"Ah, but you have me now," I said, nuzzling his face. His rapture at this behavior was laughable. Even an imbecile could see I was hamming it up so much you could virtually taste the salad too. "Do you have the same nights off as Panthera?"
He looked sour. "In a way. We take it in turns. Jafit won't ever let Panthera stay unguarded."
"How many nights off a week does Panthera get?" "Only one, and he never knows which one that will be."
"Do you?"
"Yes, of course. We have to organize our duties around it."
"And when's the next one?"
"Four days' time. Why? What is it to you?" He didn't have an ounce of suspicion in him, however.
"I just want to know, because that night, I'll send you a present. I don't want you having to be all alert and on duty while you're enjoying it."
"You're lovely," he said tenderly. "Deadly," I replied and he laughed.
So, tonight is the night. No more waiting. Goodbye vulgar clients, hello freedom. When I write again, it will be to state whether our plans were successful or not. If they're not, I may not be able to write again! A less than cheering thought. The Mojags are to be drugged with the Diamanda, which will be diluted in the large carafe of expensive wine that I'm sending to Outher for him to share with his companions. Once they're asleep, Kruin will scale the wall outside and try to remove the bars. He has obtained a corrodant which takes about fifteen minutes to work. Panthera and myself will leave Piristil through the window, into the yard, where Kruin will have the horses waiting, loaded with supplies. This venture has cost Kruin and myself nearly all the money we have. Kruin, to get rid of his duty toward the merchants, even had to hire another guide to get them safely back to Natawni. The planning is all finished; we'll just have to pray we're successful. It all hangs on Outher's trust in me and whether he's generous enough to share the wine as I'll suggest. I've had to endure four days of his dull wooing, made more vile by the fact that it required
convincing responses. Imagine, we've even been discussing names for children! Every moment he has, he swears undying love to me; I have to take it all in without laughing. The fool's so easy to deceive it's embarrassing to take advantage of it. I could almost serve him a dose of Acridil for being such a stupid bore. People have died for less, as they say.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Flight toward Hadassah
"Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despair."
—John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale
Dampness, warmth, rising steam. The sound of moisture dripping from leaf to leaf. Birds are silenced; our horses pushing through greenery. Ahead of us the trees are thinning. Pell is in front of me. I am filled with feelings that I cannot describe. It is as if Fate himself is looming above the trees, filling the sky. At the time, I am not afraid nor even do I try to fight it. A town has appeared. It is quiet, no smoke rising, no movement; the trees have peeled back to reveal it. The town is red, the trees are green. We walk our horsesupon the road. "Pell," I say, "let me go first. It might be dangerous. " Pell shakes his head. We are both powerless, but we know nothing, only that we love. We do not realize that all the time something has been following us, leading us, directing us. I should have known. God, I should have known. Love blinds me. Now the time for such teasing has come to an end. Pell can play at life no more and my time of sanity is over. Back to the time of blood. The end. We are not aware of what controls us because, for a time, we were innocent and incapable of thinking about, let alone comprehending, a thing so lunge, so terrifying, so corrupt. We can only see each other and that is enough. The bullet, when it comes, surprises me only by its sharp, exploding sound. Pell is killed instantly. I see him jerk, fall from the trembling horse. What's happened? It takes a moment to sink in. My face is stinging. Why? Has a sharp twig snapped up and scratched me? What is it? Pell, what's happened? He doesn 't answer. He can't. Never again. Never. I watch my life explode in a spray of blood and a scream; a horse's scream. Then madness takes me and everything is cold, cold, cold. I look at him lying there, his fingers twitching. Screaming horses. Death. The smell of burning. There is light above the trees, taking him from me. A cold light. I am crying out because I'm sure it is the end. If only it had been.
Jaddayoth is near. We are high up in the hills and the sharp, chill air is free of the stink of Fallsend, which is now far behind us. A fox with silver fur was watching me some moments ago as I wrote in the light of our campfire. His eyes were disks of gold. He watched me. Was he really a fox? Kruin and Panthera are asleep, rolled uncomfortably in blankets under the canopy of rock behind me. I have to take my gloves off to write and it is bitterly cold, but if I don't get it down on paper soon, I will begin to forget and the narrative will lose its edge. We have been traveling for a week, with, as yet, no sign of pursuit. I should have begun this before.
I'd been worried that some of the others in Piristil were suspicious of me, perhaps anticipating my plans—Flounah especially. For days I'd had to try and behave normally, not let anything slip, no matter how trivial, endure Outher's plodding and serious attempts at wooing me, prevent myself from packing away my belongings too soon. We weren't as prepared as I'd hoped we could be. There were too many areas in our plans where things could go drastically wrong, that we had no control over. I was concerned that we had so little Diamanda. It would be so much safer (and would improve our chances of success) if most of Piristil's occupants were slumbering peacefully as we made our getaway. On the actual night, obstacles arose like the fingers of a corpse who would not stay dead. It had taken careful machinations to nudge our time of escape onto a night when neither Panthera or I would be working. Sudden
ly, after dinner, Jafit told me he wanted me to see a client; a last minute arrangement. Flummoxed for a
moment, I had to pretend to be ill, which also meant that Jafit relieved me of my duty of taking Panthera his dinner that night. Panicking furiously.
I imagined Panthera would think our plans had been discovered if anyone else took my place of attending him. He might even do something rash. I thought it would be too risky and too suspicious to try and get a message to him. I'd just have to trust his faith in me and try to sneak into his room later. The drugged wine had already been delivered to Outher and his friends with a suitably simpering note. Timing was crucial. After the wine knocked them out, we had about half an hour to get out. I knew that Outher and the other Mojags usually ate their dinner about nine o'clock on nights when Panthera wasn't working. They would drink the wine after that. That gave me about two hours to get in there. I shut myself in my room and paced it from end to end for half an hour. Then Flounah knocked on my door and asked if I was alright. He'd heard the floor creaking. Irritably, I answered that I'd just got a stomach-ache; I'd be alright soon. He asked if I needed anything and I tried to calm myself by answering slowly. No, I didn't need anything, thank you. I would go to bed very shortly. I could sense him waiting on the landing outside my door for several minutes before he padded off. Did he suspect anything? Then Jafit came up, knocked and demanded to be let in. Feverishly, I opened the door.