Chimaera (55 page)

You
were never in any danger, thought Nish, looking him up and down in disgust. There wasn’t a lyrinx in Santhenar that would have touched him, not even to feed its starving children.

‘I understand that you know the warehouses of Thurkad well, Mr Phar. I wonder if you would be so good –’ He stopped at the seneschal’s slashing gesture.

‘Allow me, Nish,’ said the seneschal. ‘Phar. We want silk cloth. Strong cloth, best quality. Long bolts of it. Where do we get it?’

Nish passed Phar a map of the waterfront which Yggur had given him. ‘Can you read, Phar?’

‘Maps. Not words.’

Nish spread the map on the paving stones. Phar squinted at it, picked his nose then turned the map upside down. He grinned broadly, his wagging pipe spilling clots of tarry ash on the map. Nish brushed it off hastily. The disgusting stuff stuck to his fingers.

‘Here,’ said Phar, pointing with a snotty fingertip. ‘Street of the Sail-makers. All these buildings behind are warehouses. This, this and this, all silk.’

‘You’re absolutely sure?’ said Nish.

‘Bah,’ said Phar, picking the other nostril and parking the residue on the edge of the map.

‘Disgusting brute,’ piped Berty, cuffing him over the half-ear. ‘Wipe that off, you pig.’

Phar smeared snot halfway across the sheet. Snatching the map, Nish rolled it up and said, ‘We’ll go at first light.’

Phar began to shamble off. ‘Not likely,’ said the seneschal. He called a pair of guards over. ‘Look after this fellow for the night, will you? And take good care of him; he’s escaped more times than you fellows have changed your underwear.’

‘Never change my underwear,’ said the first guard, evidently puzzled by the comparison. ‘Only when it falls to pieces.’

‘You’re in good company then. Lock him up tight. If he escapes you’ll be explaining why to Lord Yggur.’

The mission seemed doomed from the first second. When the guards went to the cell for Phar in the morning he wasn’t there; despite all the precautions, he had got away.

‘What the blazes were you doing?’ Nish roared, practically incoherent with rage. It did not matter that Seneschal Berty had given the orders and the guards carried them out. He, Nish, was in charge and there was no excuse for failure.

Berty looked worried too, which was unusual. He was always the picture of control. He hastily roused out the guards and soon a hundred people were looking for the thief.

An hour later Nish was sitting on the step to his shed, head in hands, a position he’d spent a lot of time in lately, when Yggur came stalking out the front doors of Fiz Gorgo, holding a crumpled, twitching object as far away from him as possible.

‘I believe you’re looking for
this
,’ he said, dropping Phar on the ground. The villain splatted, like a cow defecating. Lying on the paving stones, reeking, he did rather resemble a pile of droppings.

‘You won’t run away again, will you, Phar?’ said Yggur.

Phar covered his face, making a ratty squeal. He shook his head vigorously.

Yggur inspected his fingers, seeming to find some distasteful residue there, for he crossed to a wash trough and scrubbed his hands with sand-soap and water.

‘
You
won’t let us down, will you, Nish?’ Without waiting for an answer Yggur went inside.

No, Nish said to himself, I won’t, and he finished stowing his gear in the thapter. Yggur would not let him take the air-floater to such a dangerous place, deeming it too slow and vulnerable to lyrinx attack. Nish heartily agreed. They were to leave immediately.

‘Where’s Malien?’ he said to his crew after they had been waiting for half an hour. She was to pilot the thapter to Thurkad.

No one had seen Malien. He found her in her bed, looking wan.

‘I’m sorry, Nish. I’ve been throwing up all night. I don’t think I can even stand up.’

‘Was it something you ate?’

‘No. I’m afraid I overdid it, flying the thapter all that time. I’ve been feeling poorly for days. Maybe tomorrow …’

‘Well, look after yourself.’ He went out. Tomorrow was going to be too late. Nish was acutely conscious how time was fleeting by. It was mid-winter and they had to be ready for war in less than two months. At this stage, even a day could make the difference between success and failure.

In an emergency, Nish supposed Flydd and Yggur would agree to his taking the air-floater, though it was exquisitely vulnerable to attack by lyrinx. A single tear in the gasbag meant the loss of the craft and everyone on it, and any chance of recovering thapters. And though it was the mating season, when the enemy avoided all-out war, there would be plenty of lyrinx about who were neither hibernating nor mating. No, it had to be the thapter and they must go today. Flydd needed it in a few days’ time, to visit the manufactories in the south-east, which were to make farspeakers and other devices for the spring offensive.

None of Nish’s trainee pilots had ever been at the controls of a real thapter and there was no possibility that they would be allowed to take this one to Thurkad. He needed the best for such a dangerous mission. He would have to ask Tiaan.

Nish had kept clear of her ever since her return, for Tiaan made it plain that she loathed him. She only spoke to him when she had to, and avoided him whenever she could.

And if she refused, as he expected her to? Nish had no idea what he would do.

He knocked on her door. She did not answer. He knocked again. Still nothing. It was early and she could be asleep. He turned the handle.

‘Tiaan?’ he said quietly.

Her bed was empty. Perhaps she was down the hall having breakfast. Then Nish heard splashing, realised his error and, too late, turned to go. Tiaan appeared around the corner, naked from her bath, towelling her dark hair vigorously.

Had he slipped out at once he might have got away with it, for the towel was over her face. Nish hesitated just long enough for her to open her eyes and see him staring at her.

She fled back into the bathing room. Nish went the other way, scarlet with mortification. Now what was he supposed to do?

Irisis laughed herself sick when he confessed his folly. ‘What a prize clown you are, Nish. You can’t do anything right, can you?’

It stung, even from his best friend. ‘Not with Tiaan. I was trying to do the right thing.’

‘But Nish, she’s such a repressed little chit, and you sneaked into her bedroom. How could you imagine she was going to react?’

‘I didn’t sneak. I knocked twice.’

‘It was her
bedroom
. You should have knocked loudly and not gone in until she answered.’

‘I was trying not to disturb her.’

‘And she didn’t have any clothes on?’

‘Completely naked,’ he said miserably, ‘and still gleaming wet from her bath …’

‘Remember who you’re talking to,’ Irisis snapped.

‘Sorry.’

‘She’ll never forgive you, not if she lives for a hundred years.’

‘I know. I’ve ruined everything.’

‘Not necessarily. Just because she despises you and holds you in deepest contempt –’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

She sniggered. ‘Of course I am. You were being a rotten little perv and now you’ve got your just desserts.’

‘I wasn’t!’ he said plaintively. ‘Why won’t you believe me?’

‘Because I don’t want to. It’d spoil the story, for me and for everyone.’

‘You’re not going to tell the others! No, please don’t, Irisis.’

‘Of course I am. We can all do with a good laugh. But, just to show good faith, I’ll get you out of your little problem.’

‘How?’ Nish said suspiciously.

‘As I was saying, just because Tiaan despises you more deeply than –’

‘Thank you! I got the message.’

‘– it doesn’t mean that she won’t fly the thapter.’

‘But …’ He looked at Irisis in sudden hope.

‘If you hadn’t caught her at her bath, and she had agreed, would she have done it as a favour to you?’

‘Of course not. She loathes me.’

‘Well, there you are. Now she just loathes you a little more. Er, a lot more, actually.’

‘Thanks! But I still don’t see –’

‘Go and talk to Malien. Confess your folly and get her to ask Tiaan to do it. Malien is her only friend.’

Malien looked a little better, and she also laughed when Nish shamefacedly told her what he’d done. ‘That’s worth two hours with the healer, Nish. How do you get yourself into such messes?’

‘Will you plead with her?’

‘I’ll ask Tiaan. She’s been working night and day on the farspeaker designs, but I believe they’re finished now.’ She pulled the bell cord and asked the servant, who appeared straight away, to fetch Tiaan at once.

‘I’ll go,’ Nish said hastily.

‘No, stay. Time is precious. Sit over there.’

He took a chair by the window.

Shortly Tiaan appeared. ‘How are you, Malien? They said you weren’t well.’

‘I’ve felt better. Dare say I’ll be all right in a day or two.’

‘If there’s anything –’ She caught sight of Nish and a flush mounted up her cheeks. ‘You vile, disgusting, repuls–’

‘I gather you had a small incident this morning,’ Malien said mildly.

‘He sneaked into my bedroom so he could spy on me at my bath!’ she cried. ‘He’s always been a squalid little pervert.’

Nish, even redder in the face than she was, wanted to die. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Between her and him, his words had always made things worse. He opened his mouth but Malien signalled, hand up, for him to say nothing.

‘I believe he thought you were asleep,’ said Malien, ‘and did not want to wake you suddenly.’

‘If you believe that –’ Tiaan cried, then broke off. ‘I’m sorry, Malien.’

‘I’ve been insulted by the most powerful people in the land, Tiaan. There’s nothing you can say to upset me. Now listen – I’m ill and can’t fly the thapter to Thurkad. It must go today or it will be too late. Nish went to your room to ask if you would do it.’

Tiaan opened her mouth to refuse, but Malien went on. ‘No one else can do it, yet it must be done. So I’m asking you, Tiaan. Will you fly the thapter?’

After a long hesitation, she said, ‘Of course, Malien. But let it be known I am not doing it for
him
.’ Turning to Nish she said formally, ‘I will be ready in one hour. Will that be sufficient?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

Still red in the face, Tiaan went out.

‘Sounds as though it’s going to be a jolly trip,’ said Malien, ‘what with you, Tiaan and Phar. Tell me all about it when you return.’

Tiaan turned up as the last grain of the hourglass fell, when the soldiers and Phar were already below. Nish took his place beside her. It was going to be a hideous trip. Tiaan, at the controller, was like an iceberg that, instead of thawing, seemed to get colder by the second. Nish tried to apologise.

‘Don’t say anything. Your apology means nothing, since I know you’re only offering it to get what you want.’

‘But, Tiaan, I didn’t mean –’

‘Do you think I don’t know your character by now?’ she hissed. ‘You’re a true son of your father. I have nothing to say to you. Just tell me where you want to go and what you want to do.’

He did so, since the soldiers were already muttering among themselves. Morale was critical to the success of any mission. Someone began to bang on the lower hatch.

‘What’s that disgusting smell?’ said Tiaan, edging away from him. ‘That wasn’t you, was it?’

‘Of course not!’ Flushing again. Nish lifted the hatch. He didn’t need to take a step down the ladder to discover that he’d made a gross mistake. The stench was so appalling that even the soldiers looked green.

‘Get him out of here,’ said the first, ‘or none of us will still be alive when we get there.’

‘Phar!’ snapped Nish. ‘I should have put you in the cauldron and boiled the filth off you. Grab hold of him, lads. We’ll take him up the back.’ He climbed up. ‘Would you set down, please, Tiaan? We’ll have to take this villain up to the platform and tie him on.’

‘You should have thought of that before we left,’ she said without looking at him. Tiaan directed the thapter toward a mud island in the swamp forest, taking it expertly down between the trees. She stood to one side, wrinkling her nose, as the soldiers manhandled Phar over the side and back to the shooter’s platform, where they secured him with ropes.

The stink lingered, and even after the long flight to Thurkad, Nish could still smell the fellow. They arrived over the city around one in the morning. Tiaan was standing at the controller, practically asleep on her feet. She was swaying from side to side.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Of course I’m all right!’ she snapped. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

He began to unroll the map of the city. Tiaan touched a panel globe above her head, which illuminated the binnacle with a soft white glow. Nish spread the map out as best he could over the irregular surface.

‘These three are the silk warehouses.’ Nish pointed to the buildings behind the Street of the Sail-makers. ‘Any will do.’

‘Just tell me which one you want to go to,’ she said curtly.

‘The easternmost one,’ said Nish.

‘Thank you. You can go now.’

‘I’ll leave the map –’

‘I don’t need it. Once I see a map I never forget it.’

He didn’t see how that could be possible, for Nish was used to poring over maps for hours and still getting lost. However, he rolled it up and went below. The place still reeked of Phar.

Shortly the thapter settled with a bump on a sloping roof. Timbers creaked underneath them and several slates cracked. Tiaan lifted the thapter off again, hovering just above the roof.

‘We’re here,’ she called down the hatch.

‘Time to go,’ Nish said to the soldiers. ‘Vim and Slann, would you bring Phar? He’s a burglar and it’s his job to find us a way in. I hope he can, otherwise we’ll have to make a hole in the roof and I’d rather avoid that. Tiaan, if you would keep watch …’

‘What if the enemy appear?’

‘If they see you and attack, go up at once. Come back every hour on the hour if you can, but don’t risk yourself or the thapter for us.’

For the very first time, some kind of feeling showed in her eyes, as if she’d realised that he was, after all, a human being not completely without redeeming features. To be abandoned in a city possessed by the lyrinx was not pleasant to contemplate.