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“I do.” His voice was like the thudding of a bass drurn. “I know you, too, General. Know you a dog’s right, anyhow, but me an’ Auk’s a old knot.” Legs like two pillars devoured the distance between them with swinging strides.
For a second time, Maytera Mint’s small face went blank with surprise. “Gib! You’re Gib! We charged the floaters on Cage Street together!”
“Pure quill, General.” The giant dropped to one knee, eliciting an enraged bleat from the ram. “I’m Gib from the Cock, an’ I was tryin’ to stick by you, but that sham horse couldn’t keep up. Too much weight’s what Kingcup says. Then he took a slug an’ down we went.” He held up his free arm to show a cast, then touched the ridge above his eyes with the fingertips protruding from it. “So I can’t salute like I’d like to, but Bongo here can. Salute the General lady, Bongo. Salute!”
The baboon rose on his hind legs, his forepaw seeming to shade startlingly human eyes.
Maytera Mint demanded, “But you know Auk, Gib? I mean Pas’s prophet named Auk?”
Maytera Marble sensed her uncertainty. “She knows a man called Auk who went to our palaestra; but I don’t believe she’s sure he’s the one Pas — Pas told you about this Auk, sib?”
“Yes!” Maytera Mint nodded so hard her short brown hair danced. “Just now, a few minutes ago, down in a chapel under the Palace. He came to the Window there, Maytera, and all of us could see him, even Spider and Eland. It was wonderful!”
The soldier carrying the feet of the fourth soldier said, “He talked about our sergeant. We gave him to Pas.”
The third soldier objected, “He gave himself, that’s how it was. Now Pas wants him fixed. Not ’cause he don’t want him but ’cause we need him. Pas don’t want to scrap him.”
The augur tossed back a lock of lank black hair. “It — ah — gave. Sense of the word, hey? I myself—”
Maytera Mint was not to be distracted. “Do you know Auk the Prophet, Gib? Yes or no!”
“Sure do, General.”
“Describe him!”
“He’s part owner in my place, he’s maybe forgot but he is. Pretty big cully.” Gib waved his cast toward the larger of the rough-looking men. “Bout like him, only not so old. Got more hair than he needs an’ ears that stick out of it anyhow.”
“A strong, forthright jaw!” She was fairly dancing with anxiety and impatience.
“That’s him, General. You could hang your washing on it.” Gib chuckled, the laughter of a happy ogre hiding in his barrel chest. “I was wantin’ to say he looks like Bongo here. Auk’s my ol’ knot an’ wouldn’t mind. Maybe you would of, though, an’ maybe the god that’s tapped him. Tartaros is what he says.”
“This, er, hiatus, General…”
Maytera Mint nodded vigorously. “He’s right, Gib. Stand up. You needn’t address me as if I were a child, just because I’m not tall.”
She trotted forward, drawing the giant behind her like a magnet. “Let’s see… You don’t know anybody here except me. Neither does poor Maytera, whom I ought to have introduced. Or have you been introduced to His Eminence, Maytera?
“Your Eminence, this is my senior and my dearest friend, Maytera Marble. Maytera, this is His Eminence the Coadjutor, Putera Remora.”
Maytera Marble, hurrying after them, paused long enough to bow in approved fashion.
“An honor, eh? For me, Maytera. For me. Very much so. Um — privilege. We begin our acquaintance under the most — ah — propitious circumstances. You, um, concur?”
“Decidedly, Your Eminence!”
Maytera Mint never broke stride. “This is Gib, as you heard, a friend of Auk’s and a comrade-in-arms of mine. The soldier with his slug gun pointed at our prisoners — Slate, you really don’t need to do that. They’re not going to run.”
She glanced back at Maytera Marble. “Where was I? Oh, yes. That’s Acting Corporal Slate. I’ve put him in charge of his fellow soldiers till Great Pas, as he promised, restores Sergeant Sand to us by Auk’s agency.”
Catching up to her, Maytera Marble ventured, “That must be poor Sergeant Sand they’re carrying?”
“That’s right, and Schist and Shale are carrying him. Our prisoners — they’re friends now, friends of mine at least, and His Eminence’s too, I’d say — are Spider and Eland.” She had reached the milling crowd before the Grand Manteion and stood on tiptoe in the hope of catching a glimpse of Auk.
Xiphias had found a candle and lit it; Silk drew Hossaan away from its light and out into the darkness of the corridor. “Master Xiphias can help her look — hold the light, at least, which is all she needs. You and I have things to talk about.”
“Good man!” Oreb assured Silk.
“I employed you — knowing you are an agent of the Rani’s — because you Trivigauntis are our allies. You realize that, I’m sure.”
“Certainly, Calde.”
“You owe nothing to Viron, and nothing to me. But if you want to remain, you’ll have to be more forthcoming than you’ve been thus far.”
“Only because the old man was listening, Calde. I know you trust him, and you probably can. But I’m not you. I try not to trust anybody more than I’ve got to.”
“I understand. Do they trust you? I mean the officials to whom you report.”
There was a momentary silence; it was too dark for Silk to see Hossaan’s face, but he sensed that it would have done little good. Then Hossaan said, “No more than they have to, Calde. I don’t mind, though. I’m used to it.”
“I’m not. No doubt I must become used to it, too; but I’m finding that difficult. You’re deceiving them. That was the reason you had Horn — and others, no doubt — call you Willet, the name you had used here. That was also why you helped serve di
Hossaan’s only answer was an eerie silence. On Silk’s shoulder, Oreb croaked and fluttered uneasily.
“That person will assume, of course, that I am not aware you’re a Trivigaunti—”
“Let’s not dodge words, Calde. I’m a spy. I know it and you’ve known it since you spotted me on the boat.”
“You will be applauded and rewarded.”
Hossaan started to speak, but Silk cut him off. “I’m not finished. While you took us out here, I was thinking about your deception and your position as my driver. Please don’t tell me that your lie is essentially the truth because I’m the only one who knows and you intend to inform your superiors that I do. It would only be a further lie.”
“All right, I won’t.”
“Then I say this. You may tell your superiors everything you learn. I’ve assumed that you would from the start, and since I haven’t the least intention of betraying the Rani, it can do Viron no harm. But you must afford me the same courtesy Doctor Crane did — you must tell me everything I want to know about what you’re doing and reporting. In return, I’ll keep your secret.”
A second crept by, then two. “All right, Calde. But I’ve always been willing to tell you whatever you needed to know.”
“Thank you. Earlier I asked whether Generalissimo Siyuf or General Saba knew you by sight. You said neither did, and I believed you.” For a moment, it seemed to Silk that something stealthy moved through the darkness. He paused to listen, but heard only the sudden flapping of wings as Oreb launched himself from his shoulder.
“I ask again — was it the truth? Does either know you?”
“It is, Calde. I’ve never spoken with them, and I doubt that they know what I look like, either one of them.”
“There was someone at my di
“Colonel Abanja. Didn’t you ask what she does on Siyuf’s staff? She intelligence officer.”
“Do you report to her?”
“I will now, probably. You still don’t see—”
Soft candlelight had appeared in Hyacinth’s doorway. Oreb a
Silk asked, “How are you faring, Master Xiphias?”
The old man shook his head. “Not a thing, lad! Want a bit of silver chain? Ring worth half a card?”