Marune: Alastor 933 (13 page)

Efraim made a soft sound and examined the other garments. He tried to remember the Kaiark Jochaim’s wardrobe, at which he had barely glanced, and could only summon an impression of understated elegance, kaiarkal restraint.

Efraim went thoughtfully into the Grand Parlor and summoned Agnois, who seemed uneasy. He shifted his pale blue gaze aside, and as he bowed the fingers of his big white hands kneaded and twisted.

Before Efraim could speak, Agnois said: “Your Force, the Eiodarks of Scharrode wish an audience, as soon as convenient. They will meet you in two hours if that suits Your Force.”

“The audience can wait,” growled Efraim. “Come along with me.” He led Agnois to the dressing room, where he paused and turned a cold stare upon Agnois, causing the chamberlain to blink. “As you know, I have been away from Scharrode a matter of six months.”

“Yes, Force.”

“I have had many experiences, including an accident which has unfortunately obscured portions of my memory. I tell you this in absolute confidence.”

“I will naturally respect this confidence, Your Force,” stammered Agnois.

“I have forgotten many small niceties of Rhune custom, and I must rely upon your assistance. For instance, these garments: can this be the whole of my former wardrobe?”

Agnois licked his lips. “No, Your Force. The Kraike made a selection of certain garments; these were then brought here.”

“These of course are garments I wore as Kang?”

“Yes, Force.”

“They seem somewhat jaunty and extravagant in cut. Do you consider them suitable for a person of my present status?”

Agnois pulled at his pale pendulous nose. “Not altogether, Your Force.”

“If I wore these before the eiodarks they would consider me frivolous and irresponsible - a callow young fool, in fact.”

“I world suspect as much.”

“What precisely were Singhalissa’s instructions?”

“She ordered me to transfer these garments; she further suggested that any interference in Your Force’s preferences might be considered insolence, both by Your Force and by the Noble Singhalissa herself.”

“She told you, in effect, to help me make a fool of myself. Then she summoned the eiodarks to an audience.”

Agnois spoke hurriedly: “This is accurate, Force, but -“

Efraim cut him short. “Postpone the audience with the eiodarks. Explain that I must study the events of the last six months. Then remove these garments.

Instruct the tailors to prepare me a suitable wardrobe. In the meantime bring here whatever can be salvaged from my old wardrobe.”

“Yes, Force.”

“Further, inform the staff that the Noble Singhalissa will no longer exert authority. I am bored with these petty intrigues. She is to be known not as the ‘Kraike’ but as the Wirwove of Disbague.”

“Yes, Your Force.”

“Finally, Agnois, I am astounded that you failed to notify me of Singhalissa’s intentions.”

Agnois cried out in frustration: “Force, I intended to obey the Noble Singhalissa’s instructions to the letter; but nonetheless, by one means or another, I planned to protect Your Force’s dignity. Indeed, you divined the ploy before I had opportunity to alter the situation!”

Efraim gave a curt nod. “Lay out garments at least temporarily appropriate.”

Efraim dressed and went out into the Grand Parlor, half-expecting to find Matho Lorcas awaiting him. The room was empty. Efraim stood irresolute a moment, then turned as Agnois entered the chamber. Efraim seated himself in a chair.

“Tell me how the Kaiark Jochaim died.”

“Nothing, Force, is surely known. Semaphores warned of mirk-men riding down over the Tassenberg from Gorgetto. The Kaiark sent two troops to attack their flank and led a third force to punish the fore-riders. The mirk-men raced for Suban Forest, then retreated up the defiles toward Horsuke. Suddenly the slopes swarmed with Gorget boremen - the Schardes had been lured into an ambush.

Jochaim ordered retreat, and the Scharde warriors fought their way back down the gorge. Somewhere along the way Jochaim took a bolt in his back, and died.”

“In the back? Had Jochaim taken flight? This is hard to believe!”

“It is my understanding that he had stationed himself on a knoll where he commanded the disposition of his forces. Evidently a mirk-man had slipped around through the rocks and discharged his bore from the rear.”

“Who was he? What was his rank?”

“He was never killed, nor captured, Force. Indeed he was never seen. The Kang Destian assumed command of the troops and brought them safely back into Scharrode; and the folk of both Scharrode and Gorgetto expect that an awful retaliation must take place. Gorgetto is said to be an armed camp.”

Efraim, suddenly stifled by his ignorance, pounded his fists upon the arms of his chair. “I feel like the fool in a game of blindman’s bluff. I must inform myself; I must learn more of the realm.”

“This, Force, may be accomplished without delay; you need merely consult the archives, or if you prefer, the Kaiarkal Pandects along the Wall yonder - the volumes in the green and red bindings,” Agnois spoke eagerly, relieved that Efraim should be distracted from the episode of the wardrobe.

For three hours Efraim explored the history of Scharrode. Between Gorgetto and Scharrode had existed centuries of strife. Each had dealt the other cruel blows.

Eccord had been sometimes an ally; sometimes a foe, but recently had gained greatly in power and now outmatched Scharrode. Disbague occupied a small shadowed valley high in the Gartfang Rakes, and was considered of small consequence, though the Disbs were credited with a dark deviousness, and many of the women were witches.

Efraim reviewed the noble lineages of Scharrode and learned something of trismes which united them with other realms. He read about himself: of his participation in arrays, exercises, and campaigns; he learned that he was considered bold, persistent, and somewhat assertive. In pressing for innovation he seemed often to have been at odds with Jochaim, who insisted upon tradition.

He read of his mother, the Kraike Alferica, who had drowned in a boating accident on Lake Zule during a visit to Eccord. A list of those present at the obsequies included the then Lissolet Singhalissa of Urrue Strang in Disbague.

Very shortly thereafter, Jochaim contracted a new trisme, and Singhalissa came to live at Benbuphar Strang, along with her children Destian and Sthelany, who were both conceived out of trisme, a circumstance neither unusual nor consequential.

Bloated with facts, Efraim put aside the Pandects and rising to his feet he stretched and slowly paced the Grand Parlor. At a sound he looked up, expecting Matho Lorcas, but found only Agnois. Efraim continued his deliberations. He must reach a decision in connection with the Noble Singhalissa. She had attempted to conceal a number of important documents, then had tried to embarrass and demean him. If he simply adopted a manner of lofty disdain, she would certainly attempt new intrigues. Nonetheless - because of the revulsion which Singhalissa aroused in him - he felt an unconquerable reluctance toward dealing harshly with her; such acts created an intimacy of their own, like that hateful empathy between the torturer and his victim. Still, he must make some sort of response, lest she consider him futile and indecisive.

“Agnois, I have come to a decision. The Noble Singhalissa is to be transferred from her present suite into that now occupied by friend Matho Lorcas. Bring the Noble Lorcas to more congenial quarters in the Jaher Tower. Attend to this at once. I want no delay.”

“Your orders shall be carried out! May I venture a comment?”

“Certainly.”

“Why not send her back to Disbague? At Urrue Strang she would seem to be at a safe distance.”

“The suggestion is sensible. However, she might not remain at Disbague, but set about organising troubles from all directions. Here, at least, she is under my eye. Again, I do not know that person who dealt me harm six months ago. Why expel Singhalissa until I learn the truth? Also” - Efraim hesitated. If Singhalissa departed, Sthelany almost certainly would depart too, but he did not care to explain as much to Agnois.

He walked up and down the parlor wondering how much Agnois knew of mirk-deeds about the castle, and how, much Agnois could tell him in regard to Sthelany.

What was her usual conduct during mirk? Did she bolt her door and bar her windows, as fearful maidens were wont to do? Where was Sthelany now? In fact: “Where is Matho Lorcas?”

“He accompanies the Lissolet Sthelany; they walk in the Garden of Bitter Odors.”

Efraim grunted and continued his pacing. As he might have expected. He gave Agnois a brusque gesture. “See that the Noble Singhalissa is moved to her new quarters at once. You need supply no explanations; your orders are simple, and explicit. No, wait! You may say that I am angry with you for bringing useless old clothes to my wardrobe.”

“Very well, Force.” Agnois hurried from the chamber. After a moment Efraim followed. Passing through the silent reception hall, he went out upon the terrace. Before him spread the distant landscape, placid in the halcyon light of umber. Matho Lorcas came conning up the steps. “So ho!” cried Lorcas, in what Efraim considered unnatural cheer, or perhaps he was nervously gay. “I wondered how long you intended to sleep.”

“I’ve been awake for hours. What have you been doing?”

“A great deal. I explored passages out of the Sacarlatto. For your information the passages leading to the chambers of both the Noble Singhalissa and the Lissolet Sthelany are obstructed - sealed off with walls of masonry. When mirk arrives, you must turn your attention elsewhere.”

“Singhalissa has been busy.”

“She overrates the magnetism of her precious body,” said Lorcas. “Sthelany is a different matter.”

“It appears that you must seduce her by more conventional means,” said Efraim in a morose voice.

“Ha hah! I would expect more success chiseling through the masonry. Still, either method is a challenge, and I am stimulated by challenges. What a triumph for the liberal philosophy should I succeed!”

“True. If you want to see how the land lays, why not invite her to take lunch with you?”

“Oh, I know how the land lays. I learned the entire map six months ago in Port Mar. In a certain sense we’re old friends.”

Agnois stepped forth from the Reception Hall, his lined gray face limp and loose under the velvet tricorn emblematic of his office. He saluted Efraim. “The Noble Singhalissa states that she is most distressed by your orders, and that she finds them incomprehensible.”

“You offered her my remark in regard to the wardrobe?”

“I did, Force, and she professed bewilderment. She urges that you condescend to receive her at an inhalation
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, in order to discuss the matter.”

“Certainty,” said Efraim. “In, let us say, two hours, when umber becomes green rowan, if yonder phase-dial is faithful.”

“Two hours, Force? She used an urgent form of speech, and evidently wishes the benefit of your wisdom at once.”

“I am suspicious of Singhalissa’s immediacies,” said Efraim. “Two hours will enable you to provide exactly proper garments for me, and for the Noble Matho Lorcas. Additionally, I have certain arrangements to make.”

Agnois departed, puzzled and resentful. For the tenth time Efraim wondered as to the advisability of replacing him. With his special knowledge, Agnois was almost indispensable; but Agnois also was given to vacillation and at the mercy of the last personality with whom he had come into contact.

Efraim said to Lorcas: “You would like to attend an inhalation, I take it?”

“Of course. It will be an unforgettable experience - one among many, if I may say so.”

“Then meet me in the Grand Parlor in two hours. Your quarters have been changed to the Jaher Tower, incidentally, I am transferring Singhalissa to those you now occupy.” Efraim grinned. “I hope to teach her not to play tricks on the Kaiark.”

“I doubt if you’ll succeed,” said Lorcas. “She knows tricks you’ve never thought of. If I were you I’d look in my bed for snakes before jumping under the covers.”

“Yes,” said Efraim. “No doubt you are right.” He entered the castle, crossed the reception hall, passed along the Corridor of Ancestors, but instead of entering the Trophy Room, turned aside into a corridor paved with brown and white tiles, and so came to a chamber which served as office, bursary, and domestic headquarters. A bench by the side wall supported an ancient communicator.

Efraim closed and locked the door. He addressed himself to the communicator code-book, then pressed a set of discolored old buttons. The screen glowed with pale light, showing sudden jagged disks of carmine red as the summons sounded at the opposite end of the connection.

Three or four minutes passed. Efraim sat patiently. To expect a crisp response would have been unrealistic.

The screen glowed green, powdered into fugitive dots which reformed to display the visage of a pale old man with locks of lank white hair dangling past his ears. He peered at Efraim with a half-challenging, half-myopic glare and spoke in a rattling croak. “Who calls Gorgance Strang, and for what purpose?”

“I am Efraim, Kaiark of Scharrode. I wish to speak with your master the Kaiark.”

“I will announce that Your Force awaits him.”

Another five minutes passed, then upon the screen appeared a massive copper-colored face from which hung a great beak of a nose and a deep pendulum of a chin. “Kaiark Efraim, you have returned to Scharrode. Why do you call me, when no such communication has occurred for a hundred years.”

“I call you, Kaiark Gosso, for knowledge. While I was absent, mirk-men from Gorgetto entered Scharrode. During this raid the Kaiark Jochaim suffered death from a Gorget bolt, which burst open his back.”

Gosso’s eyes contracted to ice-blue slits. “So much may be fact. What then? We await your onslaught. Send over your mirk-men; we will impale them on ridgeline saplings. Marshal your noblemen, advance upon us with open faces. We will face you rank for rank and slaughter the best of Scharrode.”

“I did not call to inquire the state of your emotions, Gosso. I am not interested in rhodomontade.”