When he stepped back into the sellaria, Chenille said, 'You say that. I'm not supposed to be in here, but I didn't know that. I wanted to talk to you back in your manteion, when you were fastening down the lid of the coffin, but it didn't seem like the best time or the best place, with that chem woman watching us. I was going to wait for you there, but you never came back. After a couple hours, I went into your garden looking for a drink of water and found this cute little house. I played with your pet bird for a while, and then . . . Well, I'm afraid I lay down and went to sleep.'
Silk nodded, half to himself. 'I know you use rust, and you must drink heavily sometimes, too. When you were telling me you had a good memory yesterday during the exorcism, you said that you hadn't had a drop that day. Were you drinking here?'
'I wouldn't bring a bottle to Orpine's funeral!'
Musk snickered. He had drawn his knife and was scraping his fingernails.
'Perhaps not,' Silk conceded. 'And if you had, I would have seen it, unless it was a very small one. But you would have brought money, and there are a dozen places within an easy walk that would sell you beer or brandy, or anything else you wanted.'
Musk said, 'How much did Orchid give you?'
'Ask her. She knows you, and no doubt she's afraid of you-most women seem to be. I'm sure she'll tell you.'
'A lot, that's what I heard. Lots of flowers and enough livestock to keep every god in Mainframe fed for a week. That much. This whore's in your bed and you're scratching to pump what she's there for, you putt.'
Chenille ran her hands down her gown. 'Look at me, I'm dressed. Would I be dressed?'
Silk rapped the floor with Blood's walking stick. 'This is senseless! Be quiet, both of you. Chenille, you say you wish to talk with me. I tried to talk to you this afternoon in the manteion, but you would not reply.'
She had a trick of staring down at his feet with a half smile, as if she found his scuffed black shoes amusing; he had a sudden presentiment that he could come to know it only too well. 'Explain yourself,' he said, 'or leave at once.'
'I couldn't talk with you just then, Patera. I had so much thinking to do! That was why I waited. You know, to make amends, kind of like Musk said. Only I want to talk to you too, when we're alone.'
'I see. And what about you, Musk? Have you come for a private talk, as well? I warn you, I have some sharp things to say to you.'
Musk's face showed a flicker of surprise; for an instant the point of his knife paused in its patrol of his nails. 'I can tell you now. Blood sent me.'
Silk nodded. 'So I had assumed.' 'He gave you how long? Four weeks? Some dog puke like that?'
Silk nodded. 'Four weeks, at the end of which I was to produce a substantial sum; when I did so, we were to confer again.'
Musk rose as lithely as one of the beasts Mucor called lynxes. He held his knife level, its blade flat and its point aimed at Silk's chest, reminding Silk forcibly of the warning he had read in the entrails of Auk's ram. 'That doesn't go, not anymore. You get a week for everything. One week!'
From the top of the dusty cabinet of curios beside the stair, Oreb croaked, 'Poor Silk?'
'We had an agreement,' Silk said.
'You want to see what your shaggy agreement's worth?' Musk spat at Silk's feet. 'You got a week for everything. Maybe. Then we come.'
'Bad man!'
The long knife flashed the length of the sellaria, to stick quivering in the wainscotting over the cabinet. Oreb gave a terrified squawk, and one black feather drifted toward the floor.
'You got yourself a turd bird,' Musk whispered, 'to make us dimber hornboys, didn't you? Well, up lamp! There's not a hawk I'd feed your turd bird to, and if you're warm to keep it you'd better teach it to shut its flap.'
Chenille grinned. 'If you're going to throw knives at him, you'd better be good enough to hit him. Missing's not so impressive.'
Musk swung at her, but Silk caught his wrist before the blow landed. 'Don't be childish!'
Musk spat in his face, and the carved hardwood handle of the walking stick caught Musk beneath the jaw with the hard, incisive rap of a mason's maul. Mask's head snapped back; he staggered backward, smashing a small table as he fell.
'Ah!' It was Chenille, her eyes bright with excitement, and her face intent.
Musk lay still for a second or two that seemed a great deal longer; his eyes opened, gazing for a protracted moment at nothing. He sat up.
Silk raised the stick. 'If you've a needler, this is the time to pluck it.'
Musk glowered at him, then shook his head. 'All right. Was that your message? That I have a week in which to pay Blood his twenty-six thousand?' With his free hand, Silk got his handkerchief and wiped Musk's spittle from his face.
Scarcely parting his lips, Musk rasped, 'Or less.' Silk lowered the walking stick until he could lean on it. 'Was there anything else?'
'No.' Laboriously, Musk got to his feet, a hand braced against the wall.
'Then I have something to say to you. Orpine's rites were held today. You knew her, clearly, and both of you were working for Blood, directly or indirectly. You knew that she had died. You did not attend her rites, nor did you provide a beast for sacrifice. When her grave was closed, I asked Orchid whether she had received any expression of regret from you or Blood. She said very forcibly that she had not. Do you dispute that?'
Musk said nothing, though his eyes flickered toward the Sun Street door. 'Did you send anything or say anything? Don't try to go just yet. I don't advise it.'
Musk met Silk's stare with his own. 'Possibly you believed that Blood had said something or done something in both your names. Was that it?'
Musk shook his head, the faded lights of the sellaria gleaming on his oiled hair.
'Very well then. You are a member of our human race. You have shirked your human duty, and it is mine to remind you of it-to teach you how a man acts, if you don't know it already. The lesson won't be quite so easy next time, I warn you.' Silk strode past him to the Sun Street door and opened it. 'Go in peace.'
Musk left without a word or a backward glance, and Silk closed the door behind him. As he was fitting the bar into place, he felt Chenille's swift kiss on the nape of his neck. 'Don't do that!' he protested.
'I wanted to do it, and I knew you wouldn't let me kiss your face. He did have a needler, you know.' 'I surmised it. So do I. Won't you please sit down? Anywhere. My ankle hurts, and I can't sit until you do.'
She took the stiff wooden chair in which Horn had sat the night before, and Silk dropped gratefully into his usual seat. Crane's wrapping was noticeably cold now; he unwound it and flogged the hassock with it. 'I've tried doing this more often,' he remarked, 'but it doesn't seem to have much effect. I suppose this thing's got to cool before it will heat up again.'
Chenille nodded.
'You said that you wished to speak with me. May I ask you a question first?'
'You can ask,' Chenille told him. 'I don't know if I'll be able to answer it. What is it?'
'When we were in the manteion-when I was securing the lid of Orpine's casket-you indicated that she had been a spy, and refused to speak again when I asked what you meant. A few minutes ago, I was warned by one of our sibyls that I was at risk because a few people in our quarter seem to be trying to thrust me into politics. If I have performed the funeral rites of a spy, and when it becomes known, my risk will be substantially increased, and thus-'
'I didn't, Patera! Orpine wasn't a spy. I was talking about myself-talking like I was somebody else. It's a bad habit I have.'
'About yourself?'
She nodded vigorously. 'You see, Patera, until then I hadn't really realized what was happening-what I'd been doing. Then while I was sitting through the funeral it was like I'd been struck by lightning. It's really awfully hard to explain.'
Silk rewrapped his ankle. 'You've been spying on our city? On Viron? Don't try to evade or prevaricate, please, my daughter. This is an extremely serious matter.'
