The Two of Swords, Volume 2

by K. J. Parker

  “Indeed.” Axio grinned at him. “Like me.”

  “You.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, like me. I’m perfect for the job, I’m used to dealing with the nobs and I’ve got a great deal of relevant experience in extortion. Actually, I’m something like his fourth cousin four times removed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew that. He’s a terror for stockpiling useless information, my cousin Glauca.”

  “They can’t make me go, can they?”

  It was starting to spit with rain. Axio pulled his collar up round his neck. “Well, they can’t make you do anything, strictly speaking. But they can give you a direct order, and if you don’t obey, you’ll be excommunicated. So, in your terms, yes they can. Which is awkward, right?”

  Musen took a deep breath, in spite of the pain. “Maybe you should tell them.”

  “Are you mad? No, that’s got to be our little secret. Bloody awkward, really. I mean, you’re the best man for the job and the worst possible man for the job, both at the same time.” He grinned. “Test for you. What logical form does this situation represent?”

  “Paradox,” Musen said.

  “Correct, five marks. What else did they teach you at Beal, apart from logic?”

  “Oh, loads of stuff. Theology, doctrine and moral philosophy. I liked the theology.”

  Axio frowned. “Yes, I imagine you did. Personally, I found it got in the way. It sort of tests your faith when you realise just how much rubbish your fellow believers are capable of believing. But I survived, which is all that matters. Did they make you read Saloninus?”

  “I went to the lectures.”

  Axio laughed. “Quite,” he said. “Me, too, actually, I’m not a great reader, unlike my dear brother. Always had his nose stuck in a book, when we were kids. No, I got through the exams by sticking to the Method, and it never let me down.”

  “The what?”

  “The Method,” Axio replied. “Don’t you—? Oh well. Its proper name is scholarship by intuitive revelation, and let me tell you, it really works. What you do is, you spend the whole term not reading the set texts and going out drinking instead, and then, the night before the exam, you sit up with the books and open them at random, and allow Him to guide you to the bits that are going to come up next day. You have to have faith, of course, but I did, so it worked a charm. I came third in my year, out of two hundred and forty. It’s just simple logic, really. If He wants you to serve Him, He can be relied on to see to the formalities.”

  Musen smiled. “I wish I’d known,” he said. “I got a blistered finger, reading all that stuff.” He shifted the reins into his damaged hand, just for a moment, while he flexed the other one to ease the cramp. “If I have to go to Choris, will you come too? Promise?”

  “Promise,” Axio replied. “I think I’ll have to. After all, you’re now my fault, God help me.” He wiped rain out of his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you through. I have so far, haven’t I?”

  Musen didn’t answer that. “Will it be just us two, do you think? Or will they send someone else as well?”

  “Well now, that depends,” Axio said. “Which would you rather?”

  Musen didn’t answer that either.

  They rode for three days. Musen’s ribs ached and he heard a lot about Axio’s brother, not all of which he believed. At one point, after a long, rambling anecdote that didn’t seem to have a point to it, Musen said, “I can see why you hate him so much.” Axio seemed shocked.

  “I don’t hate him; he’s my brother. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “But you said—I mean, you keep going on about what’s wrong with him. Surely that means—”

  “God, no.” Axio shook his head, just in case there was any doubt. “Just because he’s hopeless and a mess, I don’t hate him. If I went around hating people just because they’re not perfect, I’d loathe the whole human race and die of bile.”

  Musen thought about that. “So his good points outweigh his bad points.”

  “He hasn’t got any good points. No, I’m being unfair; he can whistle quite well. And he’s punctual. What you’re doing is confusing not liking very much with hating. I don’t like my brother, but I don’t hate him. I don’t go around thinking, the world will never be whole again until Oida is dead. But if he was sick and someone had to ride ten days each way across the desert to get medicine, I’d be off like a shot. He’s my brother, after all. That’s special. Never stopped me kicking his arse every chance I got, of course.”

  “But you hate that he’s rich and famous, don’t you?”

  Axio nodded. “But only because it’s so bad for him. My fault, I guess, for being born first. If he’d been the eldest he’d have stayed home, learned to manage the estates, organise haymaking and the harvest and the sheep-shearing: he’d have been good at that. He likes people, gets on well with them; he’d have been good with the tenants and kind to servants. But instead he had to go off and make something of himself. Bricks without straw, in his case. And I blame myself for not bringing him up right. Still, there you go. You any good with a slingshot?”

  “Me? No, not really. What’s that got to do with—?”

  Axio nodded. “Then I’m guessing that you were hitching a ride with the two women and the deserters attacked you. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  Musen had to wait a moment before he could answer. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Thought so.” Axio took something from his sleeve. It was a lead sling-bolt, about the size of a wild plum. “It’s got the Tinzain arsenal stamp on it,” he said. “Western military-issue. Of course, there must be millions of the things floating about, thanks to Ocnisant and his pals.” He put it back in his sleeve. “I didn’t think you’d be capable of cold-blooded murder.”

  “I killed the old man. And the two boys.”

  “Yes, I know. But that was fighting: even the best of us tends to get a bit carried away. I was fairly sure you didn’t kill the women or I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  The next day they reached the crossroads. There was a way station there. It looked deserted, but when they got close they saw a single horse tethered to a broken-down rail. For some reason that made Axio grin.

  “Keep your face shut and leave the talking to me,” he said. “I think our luck may just have turned.”

  Inside the station house someone had lit a fire; unfortunate, since the chimney was obviously blocked. A man was sitting beside the hearth, wrapped in several blankets. He peered up out of them at Axio and scowled. “Oh,” he said, “it’s you. Where the hell—?”

  “Sorry,” Axio sang out merrily. “We got held up, this and that, you know how it is. Anyway, we’re here now. Musen, this is Corason. He and I go way back.”

  “Half of bloody Central’s out looking for you,” Corason grumbled. “For crying out loud shut the door; you’re letting the cold air in.”

  Axio coughed loudly, then sat down beside him. Musen looked round, saw a stool and took it as far away from the smoke as he could go. “Did you get it?”

  “Of course we did,” Axio said. “It’s right here, in my pocket. What’s the news?”

  “Last I heard.” Corason paused, and gave Axio a nasty look, which he ignored. “Last I heard, Rasch was still holding out. Senza’s just sat there, and nobody can figure out why. Nor have there been any significant troop movements in the east. They’re all just staying where they are, like they’re waiting for something. So, as far as I know, the plan’s still on. Which is just as well. How can it take two grown men all this time just to ride a few miles along a road?”

  “Musen’s not been well,” Axio said. “It slowed us up.”

  “It takes both of you to carry one small box.” Corason shrugged. “Well, you’re here now. Obviously, time is now of the essence. You two are to proceed directly to Choris, best speed possible, and do the deal.” He scowled some more. “I have to say, you weren’t the first choice for this mission. You’ll just have to do the best you can.”


  “Of course,” Axio said. “Are you coming with us?”

  “What do you think?” Corason said bitterly. “And you know how I feel about travel. Still, there’s got to be two of us to dispose of Lodge property or it’s not valid.” He stopped, made a gasping noise and sneezed. “Right, then,” he went on. “You’d better give it to me.”

  Musen felt his heart stop, but Axio said quickly, “No, I think I’ll hang on to it, if that’s all right.”

  “It’s not all right,” Corason said. “I’ve got seniority, you know that.”

  “Quite true.” Axio sounded himself again. “But you’re a bloody awful swimmer. Well, aren’t you?”

  “So?”

  “So,” Axio said, “I heard on the way up that the Green River’s in flood and all the bridges are down, right out as far as the Great West. Therefore there’s a good chance we’re going to have to take our shoes and socks off and paddle. And you’re a shit swimmer and I’m not.”

  “Bloody hell.” Corason sounded deeply unhappy. “Can’t we go east and round?”

  “Of course we can, and it’d only add a week.”

  “Hell. In that case, you’re right: you’d better hang on to the bloody thing.”

  “Broad as it’s long,” Axio said. “Of course, you’ll do all the talking when we get there.”

  “You bet I will,” Corason assured him. “After last time.”

  The road south wasn’t military specification, but it had at some point been made up with a mixture of crushed sandstone and field flints. Corason led the way, buried in a huge riding coat with a fur collar, and a military pillbox fur hat with earflaps. Musen trailed behind; after a while, Axio dropped back to join him.

  “Who is this prick?” Musen asked.

  Axio smiled. “It’s amazing how few people like him on first acquaintance,” he said. “Actually, he’s one of my oldest friends. It’s all right,” he added. “Nobody else likes him, and I have to try really hard.”

  “Yes,” Musen said, “but who is he?”

  “One of the ten High Commissioners for Ways and Means,” Axio said gravely. “Which makes him a very important man indeed in the Lodge, and don’t forget it. That’s why we have to have him along. The Lodge can’t part with a valuable or significant asset unless two commissioners are present to witness and approve the transfer.”

  Musen knew about the High Commissioners; he looked at Axio but said nothing.

  “I know,” Axio said, “it’s a pain in the bum, but what can you do? Please don’t get any ideas; and please don’t let’s have any more of the nonsense, because Corason isn’t an old sweetheart like me, so either I’d have to kill you, or him. And, like I said, he’s an old friend. I’d hate to lose him.”

  Musen thought about that for a moment. “You never said you’re a commissioner.”

  “You didn’t ask.” Axio wiped rain off his forehead. “Corason isn’t so bad once you get to know him. He’s always worse when he’s feeling the cold. Unfortunately for ordinary mortals like us, he feels the cold at any temperature lower than the melting point of copper.”

  Musen’s lip twitched. “I bet he hates it at Mere Barton.”

  “Oh, he does. In fact, there’s a theory going the rounds that that’s why they chose it as the site for Central. Not the main reason, of course.”

  “The good reason?”

  “One of the three. It helped sway my vote, I have to confess.”

  Whenever they stopped where there were people, Axio or Corason seemed to know somebody to ask; the reply was always the same. Nothing had happened. Senza was still sitting under the walls of Rasch. Nothing was going in or out, but he seemed to be making no effort to prosecute the siege; no mining operations, no diverting of watercourses, no bombardment. Neither were the Western forces making any attempt to relieve the city, or even to gather a force large enough to stand a chance of doing so. In fact, it was almost as if the war had come to an end; the refugees on the outer edges of Senza’s wake were starting to creep back to their homes, in some cases bringing their flocks and herds with them, and a few brave souls were out in the fields, ploughing for the spring wheat. There had been something of a washing of the spears at the Imperial court at Iden Astea, following some undisclosed lapse in security; various well-known heads were rotting quietly on spikes outside the main gate and there were new men in charge of the guards and the city patrols. Also, the garrison had nearly doubled, and they were building a wall all round the lake, a monstrous undertaking which the military regarded as pointless and the local civilians had to pay for.

  “Can either of you two remember who Beloisa belongs to these days?” Corason called back, as they climbed over a ridge and saw the sea. “Last I heard it was the West, but I may have missed something.”

  “I haven’t heard anything since Senza burned it out and sabotaged the mine workings,” Axio replied, unwinding his scarf and stuffing it in his pocket. The sun was out for the first time in days. “I sort of gathered it was a ruin and nobody wanted it.”

  “There’s ships in the bay,” Corason pointed out.

  Axio shook his head. “Could be pirates.”

  “Then we’re in luck,” Corason said. “Probably friends of yours.”

  Musen stood up in his stirrups to look, but couldn’t see anything. “It’s possible,” Axio said. “Though I’m a bit out of touch. Still, it’s worth a try.” He nudged his horse into a brisk canter, as Corason yelled after him, “I was joking.”

  Musen started to follow; Corason reached out and grabbed his bridle. “Just a moment,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  “All right.”

  Corason pushed back his hood. “About Axio,” he said. “I’ve known him a long time. That.” He levelled his riding crop at Musen’s ribs. “He do that to you?”

  “No.”

  “No,” Corason said, “and I don’t suppose he crushed your hand, either.” He let go of the reins. “My old mother had a cat,” he went on. “Vicious bloody thing, scratch half your face off soon as look at you. It used to sink its teeth in my hand and not let go, I could lift it off the ground and it’d hang by its teeth. I told her, that thing’s got to go; it’s evil. And do you know what she told me? She said, it means she likes you. It’s her way of showing affection.” He sniffed, then stifled a sneeze. “You wouldn’t be the first tall, muscular young man Axio’s taken a liking to. They tend to come to a bad end, I have to say; mostly alone, in a room bolted on the inside. We don’t say suicide, because suicide is a mortal sin, but there’s been some really freaky accidents over the years.” He wiped his nose on his wrist. “The other nasty thing my mother’s cat did, it played with mice. Got really upset when they broke and stopped working, and she had to get off her fat arse and catch another one.”

  Musen looked at him. “He thinks you’re his friend.”

  “I am.” Corason smiled. “No angel myself, as it happens. It’s as much for his sake as yours. A true friend helps you stay out of trouble. Watch yourself, that’s all.” Then he gave his horse a savage kick and followed down over the hill.

  Yes, they were pirates, and, yes, Axio knew them; or at least they knew Axio, and welcomed him with open arms. It turned out he’d done a favour for a son-in-law’s uncle at some point in his career, which was the sort of thing they took very seriously. A trip across the bay? No problem. No payment required. They were going that way anyhow.

  Musen rather liked the pirates. They reminded him of home—not necessarily a good thing; but there was a sort of naïve cheerfulness in the way they did their work, everyone knowing exactly what he had to do without being told, everyone an expert in his own limited field of endeavour, that put him in mind of days and nights with the shepherds on the high summer pastures. They were mostly young, invariably cheerful and friendly, not sullen or scornful around strangers like so many people, and the way they left their personal possessions lying about suggested a strong feeling of community and mutual trust. Under other circumstances he
’d have seriously considered asking if he could join them, and it was a pity they cut throats for a living.

  Their ship was smaller than the one he’d been on the first time he crossed from Beloisa, but it wasn’t nearly so crowded, and it didn’t wallow about in the same horrible, terrifying way. He spent the first day cautiously sitting still, but after that he had no trouble at all. Unlike the sailors on the other ship, the pirates seemed capable of working round him as he walked about, so he wasn’t forever conscious of being under people’s feet. Corason spent most of his time huddled in his blankets in the galley, where there was a small charcoal stove, and Axio and the captain were apparently inseparable; Musen realised how much he’d missed being on his own and made the most of it. Nice to have friendly people around him, of course, but nice also that they kept it down to a smile and a wave as they got on with their work. He didn’t think any of them were craftsmen, though he made no effort to find out. But one of them had a pack of cards, the ordinary lime-board sort with brightly coloured pictures. Musen put it back where he’d found it, identified the owner and offered him forty stuivers for it, so that he could use it openly rather than have to hide away in the scuppers with the rats.

  “You tell fortunes, then?” one of the pirates asked him, as he sat turning the cards over one day.

  “I can do,” Musen replied.

  The pirate was one of the older men, in his mid-thirties, a short, lean man with long white-blond hair in braids. “How much?”

  “No charge,” Musen said. “When are you off duty?”

  The pirate sat down beside him. “Now’s as good a time as any,” he said. “Sure you don’t want paying?”

  “I don’t really hold with using the cards to make money,” Musen said. “It’s like pimping for your sister.”

  The pirate thought that was hilarious. “Never had to bother,” he said: “my sister’s got a much better head for business than me. Right, what do we do?”