_right there!_ Look!' The augur's voice shook with joy, and he released
the halyard. Auk's kick sent him sprawling.
'Got ter break out sweeps, ma'am, if there's more channel.'
'Mind your helm. Lay alongside the Window.' To the augur
Chenille added, 'Have you got your knife?'
He shook his head miserably.
'Your sword then,' she told Auk. 'Can you sacrifice?'
'I've seen it done, Surging Scylla, and I got a knife in my boot.
That might work better.' As daring as Remora, Auk added, 'But a
bird? I didn't think you liked birds.'
'That?' She spat into the water.
A fender of woven cordage thumped, then ground against stone.
Their side lay within a cubit of the natural quay on which the tanks
and the Window stood. 'Tie us up.' Chenille pointed to the augur.
'You, too! No, the stern, you idiot. He'll take the bow.'
Auk made the halyard fast, then sprang out onto the stone quay.
It was wet, and so slimed that he nearly fell; in the watery light of
the cavern, he failed to make out the big iron ring at his feet until he
stepped on it.
The augur had found his ring sooner. He straightened up. 'I--I
_am_ an _augur_, Savage Scylla. I've sacrificed to you and to all
the Nine _many times_. I'd be _delighted_, Savage Scylla. With his
knife...'
'Bad bird,' Oreb croaked. 'Gods hate.' He flapped his injured
wing as if to judge how far it might carry him.
Chenille bounded onto the slippery stone and crooked a finger at
the old fisherman. 'You. Come up here.'
'I oughter--'
'You ought to do what you're told, or I'll have my thug kill you
straight off.'
It was a relief to Auk to draw his needler again, a return to
familiar ground.
'_Scylla!_' the augur gasped. 'A _human being?_ Really--'
She whirled to confront him. 'What were you doing on my boat?
'Who sent you?'
'Bad cut,' Oreb assured her.
The augur drew a deep breath. 'I am H-his _Eminence's_
prothonotary.' He smoothed his sopping robe as if suddenly conscious of his
bedraggled appearance. 'H-his E-e-eminence desired me to _l-locate_
a particular y-y-young woman--'
Auk trained his needler on him.
'Y-you. Tall, red hair and so forth. I _didn't_ know it was you,
Savage Scylla.' He swallowed and added desperately, 'H-his interest
was ha-wholly friendly. H-his Eminence--'
'You are to be congratulated, Patera.' Chenille's voice was
smooth and almost courteous; she had an alarming habit of remaining
immobile in attitudes no mere human being could have maintained for
more than a few seconds, and she did so now, her pivoting
head and glaring eyes seemingly the only living pans of her lush
body. 'You have succeeded splendidly. Perhaps you identified the
previous occupant? You say this woman,' she touched her chest,
'was described to you?'
The augur nodded rapidly. '_Yes_, Savage Scylla. Fiery hair
and--and s-skill with a _knife_ and...'
Chenille's eyes had rolled backward into her skull. until only the
whites could be seen. 'Your Eminence. Silk addressed him like that.
You attended my graduation, Your Eminence.'
The augur said hurriedly, 'He wished me to _assure_ her of our
submission. Of the _Chapter's_. To offer our _advise_ and
_support_, and declare our _loyalty_. Information H-his Eminence
had received indicated that--that you'd _g-gone_ to the lake with
Patera Silk. His Eminence is Patera's _superior_. He--I--we
declare our _undying_ loyalty, Savage Scylla.'
'To Kypris.'
There was that in Chenille's tone which rendered the words
unanswerable. The augur could only stare at her.
'Bad man,' Oreb announced virtuously. 'Cut?'
'An augur? I hadn't considered it, but...'
The old fisherman hawked and spat. 'If'n you're really Scaldin'
Scylla, ma'am, I'd like ter say somethin'.' He wiped his grizzled
mustache on the back of his hand.
'I am Scylla. Be quick. We must sacrifice now if we're to sacrifice
at all. My slave will arrive soon.'
'I been prayin' and sacrificin' ter you all my life. You an' your pa's
the only ones us fishermen pay mind to. I'm not sayin' you owe me
anythin'. I got my boat, an' I had a wife and raised the boys. Always
made a livin'. What I'm wantin' ter say is when I go you'll be losin'
one of your own. It's goin' ter be one less here for you an' ol' Pas.
Maybe you figure I took you 'cause the big feller's got his stitchin'
gun. Fact is, I'd of took you anywheres on the lake soon as I knowed
who you was.'
'I must reintegrate myself in Mainframe,' Chenille told him.
'There may be new developments. Are you through?'
'Pretty nigh. The big feller, he does anythin' you want him, just
like what I'd do in his britches. Only he b'longs ter Hierax, ma'am.'
Auk started.
'Not ter you nor your pa neither. He maybe don't know it hisself,
but he do. His bird an' that needler he's got, an' the big hangersword,
an' his knife what he tells he's got in his boots, they all show
it. You got ter know it better'n me. As fer this augur you're gettin'
set ter offer me up, I fished him out O' the lake last night, and t'other
day I seen another fished up. They do say--'
'Describe him.'
'Yes'm.' The old fisherman considered. 'You was down in the
cuddy then, I guess. When they'd got him out, I seen him look over
our way. Lookin' at the bird, seemed like. Pretty young. Tall as the
big feller. Yeller hair--'
'Silk!' Auk exclaimed.
'Pulled out of the water, you said?'
