“Perhaps,” said Tyrtaios.
“Tereus, Tereus!” insisted Seremides.
“One does not know,” said Tyrtaios.
“The matter was cleverly done,” said Lord Okimoto, “and moved from man to man. Where it began may remain unclear.”
“Somewhere it must have begun,” said Tyrtaios, “and from somewhere been monitored and directed.”
“Doubtless,” said Lord Okimoto.
“Consider the perfidious Tereus, Lord,” said Seremides.
“Do you think, upon reflection, good Tyrtaios,” asked Lord Okimoto, “that our friend, Tereus, a simple oarsman, could have managed so much, so well?”
“He spoke for the desertion, he led the flight, he was first through the gate,” said Seremides. “His guilt is obvious!”
“Too obvious,” said Lord Okimoto.
“I do not think so, Lord,” said Tyrtaios.
“Nor I,” said Lord Okimoto.
“Then Rutilius,” said Tyrtaios.
“No!” said Seremides.
“I think it would have been difficult for Rutilius,” said Lord Okimoto.
“Then, who?” said Tyrtaios.
“Yes, who?” said Lord Okimoto. He then gestured that the disarmed, weary, disconsolate Tereus be conducted, his arm stained, his steps slow, in his turn, to a prison barracks.
Seremides, angrily, turned and hobbled awkwardly away, the crutch poking at, and dragging in, the dirt.
Various times, in the last few days, he had importuned me to kill Tereus for him.
I had, of course, refused.
“I will come again to power,” he said. “You are my only friend. You protect me. You saved my life. I will not forget that. I will come again to power. You will stand high.”
“I will not kill Tereus for you,” I said.
“Get him drunk,” said Seremides. “Provoke a quarrel. Strike. It will not be difficult.”
“No,” I said.
I thought that Tereus might be more safe in the prison barracks than free on the castle grounds, particularly at night.
It is dangerous to be feared by Seremides.
I had then turned away from him.
“Callias,” said Tyrtaios.
“Noble Tyrtaios,” I said.
“We owe you much,” he said. “Had it not been for your intervention, at the gate, the time taken, the desertion might have proceeded apace.”
“I do not think so,” I said. “I think the desertion was anticipated, and prepared for.”
“Betrayed by Rutilius?” he said.
“I suspect it was independently anticipated,” I said. “The Pani are not fools.”
“In any event,” said Tyrtaios, “it is clear you were not with the desertion.”
“That is true,” I said.
“That will be remembered,” he said.
“How so?” I said.
“Perhaps I may find a way for you to be rewarded,” he said.
“You?” I said.
“Yes, I,” he said.
“I need not be rewarded,” I said.
“That is for me to say,” he said.
“You have friends?” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
“Where?” I asked.
“Here and there,” he said.
“And they might arrange my reward?”
“Quite possibly,” he said.
I recalled seeing Tyrtaios in company with several fellows, the past few days, fellows from various decks. Some of them had been amongst the deserters, and were now incarcerated in a prison barracks.
If a snake could take human form, and the form of a warrior, I thought, would it not be much like the form of Tyrtaios?
I suspected that the machinations of Tyrtaios lay behind the abortive desertion. It would not do to say so, of course, for he stood close to Lord Okimoto.
I did not think that Seremides had planned and organized the desertion. As he had suggested, few would take him seriously, now, as a leader. I did suppose that he, unobtrusive, scarcely noticed, might have overheard revealing remarks, and thus come upon the matter. He may well have conveyed his intelligence to the Pani, particularly had he inveighed with Tereus, or others, to permit him to accompany the flight, and had had his request refused. Why should others escape the World’s End, if not Seremides? I speculated, of course, that the Pani had independently anticipated, and prepared for, such an exigency. Its likelihood would have been much increased given the miserable return of the exploratory force and the arrival of enemy troops, in force, in the vicinity. Seremides had, of course, attempted to use the failure of the desertion, naturally enough, as an opportunity to embroil Tereus, whom he feared, with the Pani.
I wondered, of course, if Lord Okimoto suspected Tyrtaios, as well. Certainly Lord Okimoto, despite his ponderous bulk, his measured, graceful movements, and such, was, like Lord Nishida, a very clever man. I supposed that one neither easily attained, nor easily retained, the status of
I was troubled by the events of the past ten Ahn or so. Much moved in my mind that I did not understand. It seemed formless, and yet on the verge of form. I think now, in retrospect, that it was clear enough to me, but that I was unwilling to let it stand before me, but that I rather kept it to one side, knowing it was there but refusing to look upon it.
I went to the inner wall, the high wall, as I had the previous night, and, standing on the parapet, again surveyed the countryside. I had seen campfires last night; this morning, or early noon, I saw a great number of tents. Where the village had been there was now debris, and darkness, and ash. When the wind shifted a bit, a hint of smoke still reached the parapet.
Some Pani were on the wall, as well, and some were equipped with a glass of the Builders. There was a drum in view, and, if there was movement below, massive movement, as opposed to tiny parties, scouting, I had no doubt a muster would sound, and the walls might be manned.
I did not know if Lord Yamada, or his generals, contemplated addressing the castle, or had come largely to destroy villages, and fields. I knew, at least according to report, the castle had never been taken. Clearly, as it was manned, and provisioned, it would be costly to attack. It seemed to have little to fear, at least for months, unless it be treachery.
I thought of the disarmed men, more than eight hundred and fifty, indeed, precisely, eight hundred and seventy, now held in the three prison barracks, hot, windows boarded, guarded by Pani. It would not do, of course, to keep them there indefinitely. At some point they would have to be released and rearmed. And then, I thought, would not the same prospects and dangers confront them as before, prospects and dangers which once encouraged them to think of flight, and might well again?
On the parapet I suddenly felt sick, and cold.
I was of the ship.
I knew what the Pani would do.
I turned about and hurried down to the courtyard. I must seek an audience with Lord Nishida.
