The Wraeththu Chronicles (104 page)

"I didn't say that! What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

He laughed. "Trust you? That's a good one! We're both hara of maturity, Calanthe. Is there a place for trust in this day and age?"

"If there is, it is certainly south of Thaine," I said.

"Quite so!" Jafit agreed. "No, I don't trust you, Calanthe, but I'll let you in on the secret. You've been here long enough. Anyway, it's not that terrible a thing."

"I'm all ears."

"Drink?" '

"If you like."

He went to his cupboard. "There is a har up there, you're right," he said, filling two glasses with betica. "Want to know why I keep him locked up? OK here." I took the glass. "Three years ago, I traveled to Meris, a town in Emunah. It is not a journey I make often, but some merchandise is only available to us inside Jaddayoth. Astarth had given me a list this long," he made an appropriate gesture, "of things to buy. Now, as you know, slavery is outlawed everywhere that the Gelaming's claws can burrow into, but if there is going to be such a thing, Emunah is the place to find it. I got wind of a black market slave auction. My contact was going along and he asked me if I wanted to take a look. I was curious. I went with him. Now, normally, I'd never even consider accruing kanene in that way. Slaves are more trouble than they're worth. They rarely provide a good service, but. . ."

"Ah, something out of the ordinary?"

Jafit smiled and sat down again. "You could say that. This one particular Har... I'd never seen anything like him. Obvious that he had Kalamah blood, but there was something more. Beauty didn't come into it."

"How romantic!" I said. "Of course, you bought him."

Jafit nodded, smiling. "Cleaned me out, naturally! Astarth was most put out! I came back to Piristil with nothing but a slave."

"So what went wrong? Why the bars?"

"Hmm, well, it was a nightmare from the start! I wasn't surprised that he was uncooperative—that was only to be expected—but his ferocity and sheer madness, that was not something any of us were prepared for. The first client I sent him barely escaped with his life. He lost an eye!" Jafit shook his head miserably at the recollection. "Could have been nasty, more than that, money completely wasted. Then Astarth came up with an answer. We would use the slave's violent nature as an attraction. Some Hara pay me dearly for that kind of sport. And here was a kanene who did not have to act! His name is Panthera, by the way. I sell him for the fight."

"And he still has to be locked in?"

"God, I should say so! He escaped three times in the beginning. Three times I had to pay trackers to bring him back. In every instance, they barely succeeded. Panthera is half-Kalamah and half-Ferike. Because of that, he possesses brains, stealth and cunning to an exceptional degree. The har you discovered in the corridor up there is a Mojag. I have three of them on my payroll. Mojags are the most fearless, warlike tribe of Jaddayoth. Only they can keep Panthera in Piristil."

"So, an insane beauty kept in chains," I said. "It really is romantic."

"There is little romance about Panthera," Jafit replied drily. "He is sullen, uncommunicative and vicious ... but lovely. Some hara pay me just for the privilege of looking at him."

"Well thanks for telling me, Jafit," I said "It was a great story."

"Don't thank me yet," he replied. "There was a reason. The staff won't go near Panthera. Astarth and the other kanene see to his needs. They don't like it but that's just tough. Consider yourself in, Calanthe. If any one can handle that wildcat, I think it's you."

"From whore to housemaiden in a single step! Is this a promotion?" Jafit smiled without humor. "You'd better meet him," he said. "I'll take you now."

Nobody had ever created a pedestal for Panthera, but from the moment I first saw him, I created one there and then out of pure thought-form, and put him right on it. Wreaththu have spawned many legends. I remember the ones I've known; the Varrish Cobweb, the Kakkahaar viper Ulaume and, of course, Pellaz, Tigron of the Gelaming. Men had their goddesses, women named as the most beautiful and potent creatures that god could create. Wraeththu surpass all that. In them, beauty is complete because it is both male and female; the way it should be. Jafit knocked on Panthera's door and one of the Mojags opened it to us. I could see the other two sitting at a table engrossed in some kind of boardgame.

"Well, there you are," Jafit said. "Feast your eyes on that." Panthera sat apart from the others, straight backed, on a stool, looking down into the yard through the bars of the window. The room was very light, tastefully decorated, pale hangings on the walls, soft, pale carpet underfoot. Panthera turned and examined us carefully for a moment, as a cat may examine a movement in the corner of a room. His green eyes were as cold as stone, his wild, thick hair tied up, his shoulders bare and bruised. I noted that his hands clutched each other in his lap. He was chained to the wall. He was, as had been implied, incredibly lovely.

"Well, there you have it," Jafit said, "A Wraeththu legend." Panthera turned away quickly. "How's he been today?" Jafit asked the Mojags, Huge things, they were, magnificent and deadly.

"Quiet, I'd say. Quiet," One of them said and the other two laughed. "What's all that?" Jafit inquired, pointing to Panthera's bruised shoulders. The Mojags shrugged. They did not think it was any of their business. "Here, let me see that." Jafit went and put one tentative hand on Panthera's arm. Panthera did not resist. He ignored Jafit. Jafit pulled the material of Panthera's robe down to reveal his back. He made an angry noise. "Look at this!" he said. "This is too much! What do they think they pay me for?" I sauntered forward to have a look. It seemed like Panthera had been mauled by a pack of wolves. Some days ago, too, by the look of the damage. The bruises were yellowing, the scratches dark and crusty. "Well that's somebody who won't be coming here again!" Jafit decided. "What do you expect us to do about it?" one of the Mojags asked gruffly, sensing criticism of their work. Jafit shook his head. He brushed the comment away with a brusque wave of his hand. Panthera looked as if he was on another planet for all the notice he took of what was going on. "I'll let you rest for a while," Jafit told him. Panthera still did not respond. I looked on in amazement. "Panthera, this is Calanthe," Jafit said as if speaking to an imbecile. "He's going to help look after you." Panthera actually looked at me. His disdain was withering. He sighed through his nose and turned away again. "Come on, Calanthe," Jafit said. "You can start your duties in a day or two." Outside the room, I said, "Jafit, that isn't slavery. That's a life sentence in hell."

"Oh come on, everywhere in the world is somebody's sentence, somebody's hell," Jafit replied equably.

"Don't be squeamish Cal, it could be you sitting there. Count your blessings."

"Maybe" I said. "And the name's Calanthe, nothing else."

Jafit smiled. We walked away.

It could be me sitting there.... A sobering thought. I really should not care about anybody else but myself. Why put myself in danger? What would it be like to be chained to a wall? That night a har came to my room seeking chaitra. I gave it to him alright. His was the miserable face of someone given all the gifts of God, who was throwing them back without gratitude. His was the face of perfection turned to corruption. His was the face of Fallsend. I knew it couldn't be the har who'd rearranged the flesh of Panthera's back, but it helped to pretend it was. He left me a chastened creature. I lay on the bed and smiled. There were no gifts for me that night.

Red sand. Red pony. I ride away from those that succoured me. lam healed— in body. The desert has power; Mankind has barely touched it. It is soothing. After a few days, I ride into a one-horse peasant town. I have a feeling something will happen here. It does. I see him, framed in a doorway. Peasant boy, all hair and eyes, but such eyes! They know so little here. They do not know what I am. I watch him constantly. Here is beauty, I think. Yes, here it is. A healing loveliness, but human. "lam Pellaz, "he tells me and he smiles; a nervous, bright smile of the uncorrupted. I am death, little child. I will lie to you. I cannot let you know me because I want you. I ride through the mist on a steamy afternoon, through red mud on a red pony, stolen money in my pocket, a stolen smile on my face. I ride toward him and he tells me his name. The first, fateful magic. Now I will have you, little one. It is so easy. I steal him away, like the money, like the pony, into the wilderness, that is not just a waste of stone and sand, but a wilderness of the spirit because he is leaving the world he knows. He looks back and I think, he will go back. He has realized, and he will go back. But he merely sighs and follows me. There is something powerful and untrained inside him. He must become har—and quickly. Seel has a stronghold in the desert mountains. I shall take him there. He shall be made Wraeththu. Then he will be mine. Healing balm, healing feelings; his innocence shall cleanse me and make me whole. I'll wake up and the world shall be new and my smile shall come from the inside, black memories forgotten. Please don't let him see me kill.

"Tell me about Jaddayoth," I said to Kruin.

He smiled. "It wouldn't mean anything to you."

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "You're a kanene. Part of the Wraeththu rubbish heap, There are no kanene in Jaddayoth. No Fallsend."

I was stung. "You know nothing about me!"

"Only what I need to know."

"Fuck you, Natawni. Fuck you!" He laughed and I stood up, pulled aside the curtain to my window. Across the yard, a yellow light burned in Panthera's window. "Look at that," I said. I felt Kruin's warmth before he touched me. He kissed my neck. "Look at that."

He looked. "What?"

"The light. Do you know what they keep in there?"

"Yes; doesn't everybody?"

"I'm not part of that."

"You don't have to be here."

"That's where you are wrong my friend, I do."

He sighed and went to lie down again on the bed, pouring himself a glass of wine. "I don't care, Calanthe. I don't want to know."

I threw some more logs on the fire. All the light in the room was orange-red. Kruin didn't want to know about me because he despised me. It was I that broke his tribal code; not him. The scapegoat. Rubbish. God, I shall not stay here long, I thought.

"Tell me about Maudrah?" I said.

"What about Maudrah?"

"Ariaric." I was thinking of Terzian again.

"You wouldn't like Maudrah," Kruin said. "It's a gaunt, severe place. It's people are gaunt and severe. They have no sense of humor."

"Then I will feel very at home there. I'm rapidly losing my sense of humor!"

"Stick to fantasizing about the big cats in this place, if I were you! Forget the Lion!"

"What do you mean?" (Why did I go cold?)

"Ariaric. Panthera; you know. Panthera's half-Kalamah; his name comes from panther. They call Ariaric the Lion . . ."

I did not hear what else he said. My mind was singing with white noise. When I came out of it, Kruin was saying, "Soon I shall be going home, thank God!"

It was a coincidence, surely . . . surely. I shivered.

"I wish you'd known me before, Kruin," I said.

Later, I woke up from a terrible dream. I was standing before a huge dam, which began to crack. I knew I was going to drown, but the dam was so huge and I was so small. There was nowhere I could run to. The flood-gates to the past have been opened. It has found me. I never thought I could think of Pell, but I have. I have written his name and our beginning. Something I have been afraid to admit, but now I will; they are watching me constantly. The Gelaming. In daytime, I rarely think that, but at night ... I can almost feel them. I am not afraid of Pellaz, but I know I would run if he appeared before me. It was all so long ago. Now he is Tigron and I committed murder because I lost him. No-one here knows this. No-one ever shall. Perhaps it's all part of an absurd dream I once had. Pellaz; we knew each other once.

Morning. I awoke with a thick head and Astarth ripping aside my curtains to let a brutal light into the room. "Come on, get up!" he said. "What's this? Two empty betica bottles? You're disgusting, Calanthe! Come on; up! Get dressed! We have work to do!"

"What time is it?" I croaked, squinting at my clock. "Jesus! It's the middle of the fucking night, Astarth! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Language!" Astarth corrected mildly. "Zoo duty. Come on."

My turn to help wait on Panthera. It woke me up a little. Still putting on my clothes, I followed Astarth who was stalking down the corridor. He carried a tray of food. "The staff are afraid of Panthera," he told me, when I caught up with him.

"Why's that? Blacks their eyes does he?"

Astarth laughed. "No, worse than that. He spits out very convincing curses."

"And as we despicable kanene consider ourselves cursed already, his words cannot harm us, eh?"

"Something like that. Hardfaced creatures, aren't we."

"I feel honored!"

"Don't be. Panthera will hate you as he hates all of us."

We turned the corner into the long, shuttered corridor.

"What do you think of him, Astarth?" I asked.