Colours in the Steel (54 page)

‘Hm?’

‘Fallen out over dividing up the spoils,’ the landlord said. ‘My guess is, Colonel Whatsisface was getting a bit too greedy, trying to edge the Prefect out of the racket. And the next thing he knows - wham!’

‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Loredan confessed. ‘Put that way, though, it does seem to make a lot of sense.’ He sipped his cider, which was horrible. ‘More sense than the other explanation, anyway.’

‘Take that business with the rope, now,’ the landlord went on. ‘Should’ve realised then what was going on. But you never think that sort of thing goes on, though, do you?’

‘What business with the rope? I’ve been a bit out of things lately, remember.’

‘Oh, this was some time back,’ the landlord replied. ‘Seems that Colonel Whatever-he’s-called went around commandeering all the rope in the city, and then flogged it off cheap to all his buddy-buddies from the Island.’ He grinned knowingly. ‘If you ask me, that’s what this whole emergency’s been in aid of, right from where they made a muck of that cavalry raid. You’re not going to tell me we couldn’t have kicked those savages back where they come from if we’d have really been trying.’

Loredan drank some more horrible cider. ‘I never did like that man’s face,’ he said. ‘Used to be a lawyer, of course.’

‘Well, that says it all, really. Same again?’

‘I think I’ll try the wine, thanks.’

‘House red? Or I got something a bit special, if you’d prefer.’

‘House red’ll do fine.’

The wine, though horrible, was a degree less unspeakable than the cider, and Loredan stayed for a couple more, during which time he learnt a lot more about what had really been going on up the hill. Then he decided to go home, before the landlord’s booze achieved what Temrai and all his men hadn’t been able to. His way home led him past Athli’s house, and he decided to give it one last try. This time, she was in.

‘Hello,’ he said.

She stared at him, and for a moment he almost believed she was about to jump into his arms. She didn’t.

‘Hello yourself,’ she replied. ‘They let you out, then.’

‘Time off for bad behaviour. I’ve got a message for you.’

‘Come in and have a drink,’ she said.

He’d been in Athli’s house before, but that was some time ago. He’d forgotten how light and airy it was, with its white distempered walls and bright, cheerful tapestries, neat and well-made furniture, clean and dry floor.
Of course there are people who live like this
, he said to himself,
people who like everything to be nice. If they had to live in a cave, they’d have some flowers in a jar to cheer the place up
.

He sat down in the chimney corner while Athli took down two silver cups from hooks over the fireplace and filled them from a jug. ‘What’s the message?’ she said, handing him one. ‘Something nice?’

Loredan nodded. ‘Possibly. You remember those two types from the Island? Venart and Vetriz?’

‘How odd you should mention them. I was going to tell you about them in a minute.’

‘Well, they’ve offered us a free ride out of here,’ Loredan said. ‘Their ship leaves first thing tomorrow; if we want, we can be on it.’

‘Oh.’ Athli stood in front of the fire, holding her cup tightly. ‘Are you going?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Loredan sipped the wine; rather more like it, if a bit sweet for his taste. ‘I’m sorely tempted. What about you? And what were you going to say about those two?’ He leant forward a little. ‘You’ve obviously run into them again since I saw you last.’

Athli nodded. ‘More than that,’ she said. ‘We’ve gone into business together.’

‘Good gods. How did that happen?’

Athli explained, while Loredan listened very attentively. ‘I’m starting to wonder about those two,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘Seems like we can’t put our feet down recently without treading on them.’

‘I thought it was rather a coincidence,’ Athli agreed. ‘Anyway, what do you think?’

‘About their offer?’ Loredan bowed his head over his cup, staring into the dregs. ‘I told the Patriarch I wasn’t afraid of standing trial,’ he said. ‘I lied. I feel like I’ve been in one fight too many as it is. My father used to say, luck’s like a bloody great big rock balanced on a cliff above your house; doesn’t do to push it too hard.’ He shook his head. ‘Not that that means anything in this case. For instance, if I go, maybe there’ll be a storm that sinks the ship and I’ll drown, while if I’d stayed put I’d have lived to be a hundred. Which is making the assumption that I want to live to be a hundred,’ he added, ‘which I don’t. You thought about it yet?’ He looked round. ‘You’ve got something to leave behind,’ he said.

‘What, this?’ Athli laughed. ‘It’d have been nice to have a chance to sell it and get my money back, but the hell with it; basically, it’s just things.’

‘So you’re going, then?’

‘Don’t know.’ She looked up. ‘I will if you will.’

Loredan felt uncomfortable. ‘There must be a few smilers’ worth of stuff in here,’ he said. ‘You seem to have a good eye for a bargain.’

‘Always the shrewd businesswoman,’ Athli replied briskly. ‘Talking of which—’ She hesitated, then went on, ‘Can I ask you a question? Personal question.’

‘Depends. You can try.’

‘All right.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Why is it,’ she said, ‘when you make ten times as much money as I do, you live like a pig and always seem to be broke? No offence, but it doesn’t make sense, mathematically. I’ve often wondered.’

Loredan looked away and Athli thought,
That’s done it, I’ve offended him now
. But a moment later he turned back, and his expression was more or less the same.

‘I send a lot of money home,’ he said. ‘Maybe I mentioned before, I’ve got rather a large family. Three brothers and a sister - my parents are both dead now, but two of my brothers are still on the farm. I’ve been helping them out, when I can. I owe it to them, you see.’

‘Helping them out,’ Athli repeated.

‘That’s right. My father was a tenant, in a small way; actually, he was a peasant, strictly hand-to-mouth stuff, and with the landlord taking a sixth of everything off the top, it wasn’t exactly easy at the best of times. So I bought the land. Enough for all three of them to have a decent life. Like I said, it was the least I could do, all things considered.’

Athli thought,
It still doesn’t make sense; if the brothers got the farm and Bardas went off to make his way in the world, shouldn’t it have been the other way about? They got everything, and he started out with nothing
. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘That explains it, I suppose. They must be pretty well off by now then, your brothers. The ones that stayed,’ she added.

Loredan nodded. ‘They’re good farmers, by all accounts,’ he said. ‘Not that I hear from them very often. Anyway, that’s the answer to your question. Very mundane, very ordinary, no great mystery.’

‘You never talk about your family.’

‘No, I don’t. I don’t find them a very interesting topic of conversation. Is there any more of this wine, or are you saving it for your old age?’

‘Sorry,’ Athli said. ‘Please, help yourself.’ She waited until he’d filled his cup, then went on, ‘You aren’t thinking of going back there, then? Home, I mean, the farm.’

Loredan shook his head. ‘Too much like work, living on a farm,’ he said. ‘Not to mention the smell, and goats in the living room. I’m too old to go to work.’

‘How about the Island, then? You decided?’

‘I think you should go,’ he replied. ‘I know we saw them off yesterday, but I’m pretty sure they’ll try again. And keep trying, till they get it right. I think the city will fall, and probably sooner rather than later.’

In spite of herself, Athli was shocked; to hear him say it, quite casually, the thing that she and everybody else had been dreading while at the same time knowing, absolutely
knowing
, that it could never ever happen. ‘You really think so?’ was all she said.

Loredan nodded. ‘You don’t realise how bloody close they came to it yesterday,’ he replied. ‘If it hadn’t been for the fire-oil, we’d none of us be here now. There’s so
many
of them; we simply hadn’t imagined there could be so many. And the things they’ve achieved; the engines, the organisation, everything. Last time I had anything to do with them, they were - well, I suppose I’d have to call them savages, though I don’t mean it the way most people do. They were primitive; like they didn’t want anything more than what they’d always had, which is fair enough, at that.

‘Now they’re making things just as well as we can - don’t believe anybody who says they’ve bought them somewhere or been given them; that kid Temrai came here and set about learning how to make everything he needed to take this city. He’s absolutely amazing, that boy. He deserves to win, just as we—Anyway,’ he went on, ‘the only thing standing in his way is the fire-oil. If he can find a way of getting round that, we’re done for. Given what he’s achieved so far, I doubt it’ll take him too long. And even if he doesn’t, he’s got so many men he could just push straight through anything we can throw at him, provided he’s prepared to take the losses. And I think he is. He’s a good chief, but for some reason taking this city
matters
to him. I saw the way he kept bringing up engines after our trebuchets had just made firewood out of the previous wave. In the end it comes down to whether we’re as prepared to die for our city as they are to die for their chief. And on that basis, we’re stuffed.’

Athli nodded slowly. ‘So you’re leaving,’ she said.

‘I didn’t say I was.’

‘But if the city’s going to fall...’

Loredan leant forward until he was very close to her. ‘I think you should go,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying this is your last chance or anything like that, though it’s got to be better than cramming onto a crowded refugee ship later, when they’re on the wall. I’d—’ He stopped, breathed in and out, started again. ‘I’d feel happier if I knew you were out of it. You’ve got a skill that’ll make you a living anywhere you go. You’ve even got friends on the Island now, you’d have no difficulty making a life for yourself. What have you got here, apart from all this nice furniture?’

‘I’ll go if you go,’ she said.

He moved away, frowning. She wanted to reach out, but didn’t.

‘We could start a school there,’ she said, ‘just like the school here, except I don’t suppose there’s the competition. And what you said about me having friends there, it goes for you, too. For some reason those two seem to have taken a shine to us; we wouldn’t just be refugees starting from nothing, we’d know people, they’d help us.’ She tried to meet his eyes, but he was looking away, into the fire. ‘You don’t actually want to stay here, do you? Stay here and be killed, be a hero when there’s nobody left to remember? You always said you never had any time for heroes.’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said gently. ‘Why the hell should I want to get myself killed? For free,’ he added. ‘For money’d be different.’

‘Well, then. Let’s go, together.’ She tried to find a smile from somewhere. ‘It’d be fun, the two of us. Like it used to be.’

He looked up at her now, but she couldn’t see anything in his face except a faint reflection of fire in his eyes. ‘That was your idea of fun, was it?’ he said. ‘Oh, well. Takes all sorts.’

She tried to stay calm, stay in control. ‘Well, I won’t go if you won’t,’ she said. ‘That’s what we in the trade call moral blackmail. Essential skill for a lawyer’s clerk.’

Loredan finished his wine and stood up. ‘I didn’t say I wasn’t going,’ he said. ‘Just that I haven’t made my mind up.’ He put the cup down on a table and did up his coat. ‘Didn’t you say something in your letter about having put a lock on the door of my apartment?’

Athli looked blank for a moment. ‘Oh, gods, yes, the key. Hang on, I’ll get it for you.’ She opened a drawer in a small exquisite writing desk and took out a bundle of cloth. ‘Here you are,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘It’s a bit stiff, you have to lean on the door before you turn it.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘How much do I owe you for that?’

She was about to say,
Don’t mention it
. ‘Five quarters,’ she replied. ‘You can owe it me till tomorrow if you like.’

‘No, I think I’ve got that in change.’ He counted out the coins and handed them over; Athli imagined they hurt her hand as she took them. She put the money down; he walked to the door.

‘The ship’s called the
Squirrel
,’ he said. ‘North quay, twin-castle freighter. I’d go if I were you.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.

He left.

 

 

‘Mind out.’

Gannadius looked round. ‘Sorry?’ he said.

‘Mind out. You’re in the way.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Gannadius shuffled a few steps to one side to allow the men to get by. ‘Sorry,’ he continued. ‘I’ve never been on a boat before.’

They looked at him without saying anything, and carried on with their work, which was something to do with pulling on ropes. As far as Gannadius was able to judge, most things on board the ship seemed to involve pulling on ropes, or winding them up, or throwing them.

Once he’d satisfied himself that he was no longer impeding the crew and thereby endangering the ship, he went back to staring at the skyline. He’d often heard people describing the view of the city as seen from the sea, and never once felt any great inclination to experience it for himself. Now that he was here looking at it, he wasn’t sure what all the fuss had been about.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, quite,’ he replied automatically. ‘Very - impressive,’ he ventured, ‘seen from this angle.’

The man beside him leant his forearms on the rail, his eyes fixed on the gradually receding prospect. ‘The Triple City,’ he said. ‘The teardrop of the gods, a glowing pearl bright in the sea-wave’s tresses, far-seen, ivory-crowned Perimadeia, Perimadeia the shining, the nurse of fine women, the everlasting gateway.’