extension. Both sides, um, sweep up bodies. Claim
their dead, hey? They did. So why not longer? Old Quetzal might
do it. Respected by both sides. Man of peace. You follow me?'
Silk nodded to himself.
'If your, ah, supporters learn the brigadier sent me, eh? What
then? Shoot, eh? Possibly. Very possibly. So I require some, um,
document from you, Pa--From, ah, you. Signed,' the visitor's voice
faded to a whisper, 'with your--ah--as the--um--your civil
title.'
'I see. Certainly.'
'Capital!' He took a sheaf of paper from the pen case. 'These, um,
fanciful leathers are not--ah--conducive to penmanship. But the
paper should help, hey? I'll hold the ink bottle for you. Brief, ah,
inconsiderable. Concise. The, um, bearer, eh? Respect his--ah--um...'
'No shoot,' Oreb suggested.
He handed Silk a quill. 'Point suit you? Not too fine, eh? My
prothonotary, Pa--Incus. You know him?'
'I met him once when I was trying to see you.'
'Ah? Hm.'
The pen case braced on both knees, Silk dipped the quill.
'He--ah--Incus. He points them for me. Had him do it, ah,
Molpsday. Too fine, though. Hairsplitters. I shall rid myself of
Incus, ah, presently. Could be dead this moment. 'Mongst the gods,
eh? Haven't laid eyes on him for days. Gave him a--um--errand.
Never came back. All this unrest.'
Bent above the paper, Silk hardly heard him.
<blockquote>
To General Mint, her officers and troopers.
The bearer, Patera Rernora, is authorized by me and by...
</blockquote>
Silk looked up. 'To whom did you speak? Who was this brigadier
who released you?'
'Brigadier, er, Erne. Signed for me, too, eh? His side.'
<blockquote>
Brigadier Erne to negotiate a truce. Please show him every
courtesy.
</blockquote>
The wavering tip of the quill stopped and began to blot; there
seemed to be no more to say. Silk forced it to move on.
<blockquote>
If the whereabouts of His Cognizance the Prolocutor are
known to you, please conduct the bearer to him in order that
he may assist His Cognizance in conducting negotiations.
</blockquote>
Oreb dropped a struggling goldfish and pinned it with one foot. 'No
shoot,' he repeated. 'Man hide.'
<blockquote>
I hold you responsible for the safety of the bearer, and that
of His Cognizance. Both are to be permitted to pass
unharmed. Their movements are not to be restricted in any
fashion.
A truce made and kept in good faith is greatly to be
desired.
I am Pa. Silk, of Sun Street, Calde
</blockquote>
'Capital! Yes, capital, Pa--Thank you!'
With his beak pointed to the glass roof, Oreb gulped down a
morsel of goldfish and announced loudly, 'Good man!'
'There is a--um--dispenser in here someplace.' The visitor
retrieved his pen case and took out a silver shaker. 'If you require
sand, eh?'
Silk shuddered, added the date, blew upon the paper, then spat
congealing blood into the moss at his feet.
'I thank you. I have--ah--so expressed myself, um, previously. I,
er, recognize. I am, um, in your, ah, books, eh? Your debtor.'
Silk handed him the safe-conduct.
'I, ah, surmise that I can stand now, er, walk. All the rest.
Taken a bit dizzy there, eh? For an, er, momentarily.' He
climbed to his feet, holding tightly to the chain from which their
seat was suspended. 'I shall partake of an, er, morsel of food, I
believe. An, um, collation. Much as I should like--ah--may be
imprudent...'
'I had a good supper,' Silk told him, 'and it might be dangerous
for us to be seen together. I'll stay here.'
'I, um, consider it would be best myself.' His visitor released the
chain and smiled. 'Better, hey? Be all right with a bite to eat. Too
much wine. I--ah--concede it. More than I ought. Frightened, but
the wine made it worse. To think that we, ump, we pay--' He fell
silent. Slowly his smile widened to a death's-head rictus. 'Hello,
Silk,' he said. 'They made me find you.'
Silk nodded wearily. 'Hello, Mucor.'
'It's smoky in here. All smoky.'
For a moment he did not understand what she meant.
'Dark, Silk. Like falling down steps.'
'The fumes of the wine, I suppose. Who made you find me?'
'The councillors will burn me again.'
'Torture, unless you do as they say?' Silk tried to keep the anger
he felt out of his voice. 'Do you know their names, these councillors
who threaten to burn you?'
The visitor's grinning head bobbed. 'Loris. Tarsier. Potto. My
father said not, but the soldier made him go.'
'I see. His Eminence--the man you're possessing--told me he'd
talked with Councillor Loris through a glass. Is that why you
possessed him when you were sent to look for me?'
'I had to. They burned me like Musk.'
