Night Lamp (33 page)

The tribe moved slowly to the southwest and came to a great river, which they dared not cross, since none could swim. They followed the river south, into a gloomy forest of tall conifers. After several days’ travel, they came upon the abandoned white palaces of a ruined city. The Loklor long before had claimed one of the palaces as their own; now they found white houseghouls stirring in the shadows. The infestation aroused the Loklor to a fury. They lit torches and set out to purge the palace of its inhabitants, and the houseghouls melted away before them, uttering peevish outcries but offering no resistance.

They were gone, or so it seemed, leaving only a rank odor behind. Maihac went to examine the frescos in what had been a grand salon. He heard a soft sound; turning, he found a houseghoul near at hand, pointing a long crooked arm toward him as if in woeful accusation. Maihac stood frozen. The houseghoul, leering, reached out to grasp him; Maihac struck away the arm. The houseghoul screamed and with a great flutter of its robes sprang upon Maihac, who was saved only by his reflexes. He rolled aside, and found himself engaged in the most terrible battle of his life, with the houseghoul maintaining a constant screaming and imploring in a melodious voice. The creature at last became still, sprawled across Maihac, whose face had been torn open and scalp virtually ripped off. A number of Loklor had been watching; now they turned away. Maihac realized that they took him for dead.

The house was quiet. The Loklor were gone. Maihac knew the houseghouls would be back. He crawled to the front of the palace, and looked up and down the river. He stared in wonder. The large building on the riverbank—could that be the Foundance? Was this city Romarth? He staggered along the river and presently met a group of cavaliers. They took him to the House of Ramy, where he was tended as best could be done.

Maihac found that his feat of surviving three years of captivity with the Loklor tribe had won him public acclaim and wide sympathy. He learned that there had been no news from Jamiel since her departure. The elders of Urd House had isolated themselves from Asrubal, currently absent from Romarth, and his group. They conceded that all were guilty of criminal attack upon Maihac, Jamiel and Jaro, and were jointly responsible for the murder of the infant Garlet. All would incur appropriate punishment. To Maihac the House of Urd offered apologies and an indemnity of five thousand sols. Maihac also wanted a document commanding assistance and cooperation from Urd representatives, at Loorie and elsewhere. The Urd Councillors initially resisted the request, finding it too broad and too vague. Maihac stated that he might need such authority to help him find Jamiel, who had flown to Loorie aboard a Lorquin Agency ship. The Urd Councillors, under public pressure, gave Maihac the document he wanted, as well as transportation to Flad on the Lorquin flitter and passage aboard the Lorquin freighter to Loorie. Maihac made the journey as soon as possible. Flying over the Tangtsang steppes he stared down at the familiar contours of the land, and tried to picture himself in the company of the Loklor. The images, of campfires, the food troughs, pain, fear and misery, were too real to be dismissed and too remote to seem truly real.

In due course Maihac arrived at Loorie. At the Lorquin Agency he showed his document to the imposing Dame Waldop. She scrutinized it at length, then said heavily, “What are your precise needs?”

“Three years ago a young woman arrived from Romarth with her two year-old son. Do you remember her?”

“Not well. As I recall, she seemed unhappy.”

“Did you speak with her?”

“Only briefly. She asked the whereabouts of the Natural Bank. I gave her directions; she left with her child, and that is all I can tell you.”

“Thank you. Now, secondly, where is Asrubal?”

Dame Waldop’s voice took on a haughty edge. “As to that, I cannot say. He is not at Loorie, and I believe he has gone off-planet.”

“And you have no clue as to his destination?”

“None. I am not his confidante.”

“Excuse me a moment; perhaps your clerk knows.”

“I doubt that very much!” declared Dame Waldop. “Let us not waste his time.” Maihac turned to Aubert Yamb, who had been crouched over his desk pretending to hear nothing. Maihac glanced at the placard on his desk. “Your name, so I see, is Aubert Yamb.”

“That is correct, sir.”

“Do you know Asrubal of Urd House by sight?”

“Yes, sir. A stately and severe gentleman. When he says ‘No’ he does not blow a horn or ring a bell to emphasize his point.”

“Where is Asrubal now?”

“He has gone off-world, to—”

Dame Waldop called out: “Yamb, do not utter inanities, in order to attract attention.”

“Very good, Dame Waldop.” Yamb bent his head over his ledger. He looked up again, and scratched the tip of his nose with his pen. “I will tell you, and you can properly tell the gentleman. Asrubal flew off to Ocknow on Flesselrig.”

Dame Waldop clicked her tongue, and swung around in anger. “Yamb, you have far exceeded your function. I have long noticed this tendency in you and to this moment I have suffered under the threat of your indiscretions. You have interfered in matters unrelated to your task for the last time; in short, you are discharged, without references.”

“This is sad news,” said Yamb. “I tried only to be obliging.”

“All very well, but if you wish to get on in the world, you must learn when to be helpful and when to avoid what I will call bumptious self-importance.”

“Yes, now I understand. May I have my job back?”

“Absolutely not. Kindly work out the day as usual. Before you go, clean out the bins and lock up the telephones as always. Also, even if you must work late, make sure your books are current to the minute.”

“Very good, madame. I will pay my wages from the petty cash.”

“As you wish. Leave an itemized chit in the drawer.”

Maihac had no farther business with Dame Waldop, and departed the agency. In the shade of a blue-green dendron he paused to reflect the way his life had gone since last he had walked the main street of Loorie, and how everything had changed. He thought of himself as he once had been, and considered the man he had become. The thoughts were neither cheerful nor elevating and he put them aside. It was important that he maintain his emotions at an even tone, in order to enhance his efficiency. Three years with the Loklor, if nothing else, had taught him discipline. Often he had told himself that, if by some chance he survived his wandering across the Tangtsang Steppe, he would never feel gloom or misery again.

He looked to his left, where the street ended at the space terminal; then to his right, along an aisle of freakish dendrons, to where the road finally disappeared into a forest. Here, within the span of his gaze, was Loorie, home to two or three thousand secretive folk who muttered confidentially to each other when they met on the street, and walked with care so as not to produce the sound of footsteps. Crossing the street, Maihac entered the offices of the Natural Bank. He stood in a dim high-ceilinged lobby, with cashier’s counters along one wall. Another wall was sheathed with narrow boards of porous golden punkwood. An empty desk, placed beside the wall, commanded a door which bore the legend:

In the absence of a receptionist, Maihac opened the door and entered the office, which was another high-ceilinged chamber, with a handsome wainscoting of figured greenwood. Tall windows overlooked a garden; a heavy bottle-green carpet covered the floor. Behind an oversized desk sat Huber Thwan, who was short, stout, with a round pink face, a stub of a nose and a small pugnacious mustache. His rust-brown hair had been combed to form wings over his ears to right and left. His glossy dark brown suit seemed too splendid for the Loorie environment, as did his flowered cravat and his polished yellow shoes with two-inch heels and pointed toes. Maihac was greeted with a frown as if he had entered Thwan’s office far too casually, and he failed to fit the mold of the bank’s preferred customer; in fact, all taken with all, Maihac seemed a man with many undesirable characteristics. Thwan spoke severely: “In the future, you might prefer to be announced by my secretary. It is considered a more dignified procedure for us both.”

“That is good to know,” said Maihac. “I have just arrived from Romarth, and have not yet become civilized.”

Thwan squinted sidelong at Alaihac, his mustache bristling. “From Romarth, you say? Most interesting! So what, may I ask, are your needs?”

“They are simple enough. I want to examine the financial records of Urd House, and especially the accounts of Asrubal of Urd.”

Thwan’s jaw dropped. He stuttered a moment before he found words. “What an absurd notion! This is obviously impossible! Privacy of our clients is a sacred trust.”

“So I expect. But—I carry a document authorizing my investigation. You have no choice in the matter.”

Thwan became indignant. “This is most irregular! I cannot imagine how any such authorization could be valid!”

“See for yourself.” Maihac tossed the document to Thwan’s desk. Thwan jerked back, as if Maihac had tendered him a poisonous insect. He cautiously bent forward and looked over the document, grunting softly under his breath. He read and re-read the document, and finally leaned heavily back in his chair. “No more need be said. This document is definite. I will of course wish to make a copy for my files.”

“As you like.”

Thwan spoke now with false heartiness. “Well then—you wanted to look over the Urd account? That can be done as of this instant.” A panel in the wainscoting slid back, to reveal a large screen. Thwan spoke a few words and information appeared on the screen.

Maihac studied the numbers for five minutes, putting occasional questions to Thwan, who responded with terse courtesy. Maihac presently said: “I see no record of a payment made to Jamiel Maihac, in the amount of three hundred thousand sols.”

“No such payment was made. I clearly remember the circumstances. Several years ago a young woman presented this extraordinary draught. I informed her that I never carried so much cash on the premises; that it would have been both burdensome and unsafe. I told her that she had two options. I could submit the draught to the Natural Bank home office at Ocknow on Flesselrig, then wait for the next bonded shipment from Flesselrig, which might entail a delay of several months; or she herself could take the draught to Ocknow and apply to the Natural Bank, where Urd House also maintained an account—considerably larger, so I believe, than the balance entrusted to the local bank. I told her that she would find the latter course considerably more expeditious than waiting here for a shipment of cash. She accepted my advice, so I believe, and left the bank.”

“Did she provide any hint as to her ultimate plans?”

“Nothing. I assume that she took passage to Ocknow by the first outbound packet.”

“And she left no message?”

“None.”

Maihac gave a disconsolate grimace. He looked once more at the screen. “Asrubal’s account here is quite modest—about eight thousand sols.”

Huber Thwan agreed that the amount indexed to Asrubal’s credit was not exceptional.

“He maintains a separate account at Ocknow?”

Thwan blew out his mustache, to indicate his distaste for the question. He responded coldly: “I don’t know the exact figures, but his Ocknow account is said to be quite substantial.”

“One last question. Have you seen or communicated with Asrubal recently?”

“No, sir. I have not seen him for a considerable period—months, or even years. At the time he also was bound for Ocknow.”

Maihac thanked Thwan and departed. Outside the bank, he paused to reflect upon what he had learned. It was not very much and none of it was heartening. He went to sit on a bench and watched the secretive folk of Loorie moving furtively about their affairs. The sun Yellow Rose sank into the afternoon sky and threw long shadows along the street. He saw Dame Waldop emerge from the offices of the Lorquin Shipping Agency and stride away, breasting the air with her bosom. The black-clad folk of Loorie lowered their heads and drifted to the side as she approached, then watched her with hooded eyes as she passed.

Maihac waited until she had disappeared from view, then crossed the street and looked through the window of the agency. He noticed Aubert Yamb sitting glumly at his desk. The door was locked; at Maihac’s knock, Yamb reluctantly came to the door. He threw back the bolt, eased open the door to produce a gap six inches wide, through which he peered owlishly at Maihac. “The agency is closed for the day. If you return tomorrow. Dame Waldop will assist you with full attention.”

Maihac pushed through the door and closed it behind him. “It’s you I want to consult.”

“I am no longer an employee,” said Yamb. “I can conduct no official business.”

“Quite all right. I want only information, for which I am willing to pay.”

“Oh?” Yamb was interested. “How much?”

“Probably more than you expect.” Maihac placed twenty sols upon the counter. “Let us start at the beginning. About three years ago I made certain plans with my wife. I told her that as soon as we arrived at Loorie, I intended to approach you in connection with some confidential work you would find financially rewarding. In essence, I wanted copies of documents which might later be used in a criminal prosecution. It so happened that I was delayed, so that Jamiel arrived at Loorie ahead of me. I am sure that she would have carried out our plans and made contact with you as soon as possible. Am I right?”

Yamb’s face became a mask of sly cunning. He studied Maihac under lowered lids. “What was this young lady’s name?”

“Jamiel Maihac. I am Tawn Maihac. How much did she pay you?”

“A thousand sols—and not a lead dinket too much, considering the risks.”

“And you did the work exactly as she asked?”

Yamb looked anxiously over his shoulder toward the door. “Yes; I made copies of my ledgers over a period of five years. They detailed all business transacted during the period in question. She was pleased with the result.”

“Good. You may now make similar copies for me. The pay will be the same.”