Marune Alastor 933

by Jack Vance

  Again Sthelany shrugged. "Naturally, I prefer Scharrode to Disbague."

  "I see. Tell me, what is your recollection of events in Port Mar during those hours before I disappeared?"

  Sthelany grimaced. "They were neither edifying nor entertaining. As you will recall, we stayed at the hotel, which was quite decent and proper. You, Destian, Maerio, and I decided to walk through the town to a place called the Fairy Gardens, where we were to watch puppets. All warned us against the vulgarity we were sure to encounter. But we considered ourselves indomitably callous and crossed the bridge, some of us not altogether enthusiastically. You asked directions of atypical young man of the place, capricious and hedonistic - in fact, I believe him to be the same person who accompanied you here. He led us to the Fairy Gardens, but the puppets were gone. Your friend, Lorca, or Lortha, whatever his name, insisted on pouring a bottle of wine, so that we should, guzzle and gargle and swell out our intestinal tracts in full view of all.

  Forgive my language; I can only report the truth. Your acquaintance showed no shame, and ridiculed matters of which he knew nothing. While you conversed, quite enthusiastically, as I recall, with the Lissolet Maerio, this Lorca became remarkably familiar with me, and indeed made some utterly witless proposals.

  Destian and I left the Fairy Gardens. Maerio, however, remained with you. She is really much too tolerant. We returned to the hotel, where the Kaiark Rianlle became quite perturbed. He sent Destian to escort Maerio back to the hotel, which he did, leaving you in the company of your friend."

  "And shortly after," said Efraim, "I was drugged and sent off across space!"

  "I should ask your friend what he knows of the matter."

  "Bah," said Efraim shortly. "Why would he play me such a trick? Somewhere I have gained an enemy, but I cannot suspect Lorcas."

  "You have gained many enemies," said Sthelany in her soft sweet voice. "There are Gosso of Gorgetto and Sansevery of Torre, both of whom owe you blood, and both expect your reprisals. The Kraike Singhalissa and the Kang Destian are much disadvantaged by your presence. The Lissolet Maerio suffered from pour ebullience at Port Mar; neither she nor the Kaiark Rianlle will readily forgive you. As for the Lissolet Sthelany" - she paused and looked sidelong at Efraim; in someone else he might have suspected coquetry - "I reserve my thoughts for myself alone. But I wonder if I can any longer contemplate trisme with you."

  "I hardly know what to say," Efraim muttered.

  Sthelany's eyes glowed. "You seem distrait and not at all concerned. Of course, you have dismissed the compact as trivial, or even forgotten it."

  Efraim made a lame gesture. "I have become absentminded..."

  Sthelany's voice trembled. "For reasons beyond my imagination, you seek to wound me."

  "No, no! So much has happened; I am truly confused!"

  Sthelany inspected him with skeptically raised eyebrows. "Do you remember anything whatever?"

  Efraim rose to his feet and started into the parlor, then imagining Sthelany's emotion should he offer her a cordial, returned slowly to the table.

  Sthelany watched his every move. "Why have you returned to Scharrode?"

  Efraim laughed hollowly. "Where else could I rule a realm and command the obedience of a person as beautiful as yourself?"

  Sthelany abruptly stood back, her face pale save for spots of color in her cheeks. She turned to leave the trophy room.

  "Wait!" Efraim stepped forward, but the Lissolet shrank back with a slack jaw, suddenly helpless and frightened. Efraim said: "If you were of a mind to trisme, you must have thought well of me."

  Sthelany regained her composure. "This does not necessarily follow; and now I must leave."

  Swiftly she departed the chamber. Like a wraith she fled down the corridor, across the Great Hall, in and out of a shaft of green light from the star Cirse, and then she was gone.

  Efraim signaled Agnois the First Chamberlain.

  "Take me to the chambers of the Noble Matho Lorcas."

  Lorcas had been lodged on the second level of Minot Tower, in rooms of grotesque and exaggerated amplitude. Hoary beams supported a ceiling almost invisible by reason of height and dimness; the walls, which were faced with carved stone plaques - again the product of someone's cogence - showed a thickness of five feet where the four tall windows opened to a view of the northern mountains.

  Lorcas stood with his back to a fireplace ten feet wide and eight feet high, in which a disproportionately small fire was burning. He looked at Efraim with a rueful grin. "I am not at all cramped, and there is much to be learned in the documents yonder." He indicated a massive case thirty feet long and ten feet high. "I discover dissertations, contradictions, and reconsiderations of these same dissertations; and reconsiderations of the contradictions and contradictions of the reconsiderations - all indexed and cross-indexed in the red and blue volumes yonder. I plan to use some of the more discursive reconsiderations for fuel, unless I am furnished a few more sticks for my fire."

  The Kraike Singhalissa hoped to awe and quell this flippant Port Mar upstart, so Efraim suspected. "If you are uncomfortable, a change is easily made."

  "By no means!" declared Lorcas. "I enjoy the grandeur; I am accumulating memories to last a lifetime. Come join me by this miserable fire. What have you learned?"

  "Nothing of consequence. My return has pleased no one."

  "And what of your recollections?"

  "I am a stranger."

  Lorcas ruminated a moment. "It might be wise to visit your old chambers, and examine your belongings."

  Efraim shook his head. "I don't care to do so." He dropped into one of the massive chairs and slumped back, legs outthrust across the flags. "The idea oppresses me." He glanced about the walls. "Two or three sets, of ears no doubt are listening to our conversation. The walls are shot with mirk-ways." He jumped to his feet. "We had best look into the matter."

  They returned to the Kaiark's chambers; Destian's effects had been removed.

  Efraim touched the button to summon Agnois, who, upon entering, performed a stiff bow, which almost imperceptibly seemed to lack respect. Efraim smiled.

  "Agnois, I plan many changes at Benbuphar Strang, possibly including new staff.

  You may let it be known that I am carefully evaluating the conduct of everyone, from top to bottom."

  "Very good, Your Force." Agnois, bowing again, displayed considerably more verve.

  "In this regard, why have you denied the Noble Lorcas suitable fires? I consider this an incredible failure of hospitality."

  Agnois grew pink in the face; his lumpy nose twitched. "I was given to understand, Force - or better to say - in actuality I must plead guilty of oversight. The matter will be repaired at once."

  "A moment, I wish to discuss another matter. I presume that you are acquainted with the affairs of the house?"

  "Only to the extent which might be considered discreet and proper, Your Force."

  "Very well. As you may know I have been victimized in a most mysterious manner, and I intend to get to the bottom of the business. May I, or may I not, rely upon you for total cooperation?"

  Agnois hesitated only an instant, then seemed to heave a doleful sigh. "I am at your service, Force, as ever."

  "Very good. Now, let me ask you, is anyone overhearing our present conversation?"

  "Not to my knowledge, Force." He went on reluctantly: "I suppose that such a possibility might be said. to exist."

  "Kaiark Jochaim kept an exact chart of the castle, with all its passages and mirk-holes." Efraim spoke at sheer hazard, on the assumption that among so many records and so much careful lore, a detailed chart of the castle's mirk-ways must inevitably be included. "Bring this article to the table; I wish to examine it."

  "Very well, Force, if you will furnish a key to the Privy Case."

  "Certainly. Where is Kaiark Jochaim's key?"

  Agnois blinked. "Perhaps it bides with the Kraike."

  "Where might I find the Kraike at this moment?"
<
br />   "She refreshes herself 4 in her chambers."

  Efraim made an impatient gesture. "Take me there. I wish a word or two with her."

  "Force, do you order me to precede you?"

  "Yes, lead the way."

  Agnois bowed. He swung smartly around, conducted Efraim out into the Great Hall, up the stairs, along a corridor into the Jaher Tower, and halted before a tall door studded with garnets. At Efraim's signal he thrust the central garnet and the door swung wide. Agnois stood aside, and Efraim marched into the foyer of the Kraike's private chambers. A maid appeared, and performed a quick, supple curtsey. "Your orders, Force?"

  "I wish an immediate word with Her Presence."

  The maid hesitated; then taking fright at Efraim's expression disappeared the way she had come. A minute passed, two minutes. Then Efraim pushed through the door despite a muffled exclamation from Agnois.

  He stood in a long sitting room hung with red and green tapestry, furnished with gilt wood settees and tables. Through an opening to the side he sensed movement; he went on swift strides to the portal and so discovered the Kraike Singhalissa at a small cabinet built into the wall, into which at the sight of Efraim she thrust a small object and slammed the door shut. Swinging about she faced Efraim, eyes glowing in fury. "Your Force has forgotten the niceties of conduct."

  "All this to the side," said Efraim, "I desire that you open the cabinet."

  Singhalissa's face became hard and gaunt. "The cabinet contains only personal treasures."

  Efraim turned to Agnois. "Bring an axe, at once."

  Agnois bowed. Singhalissa made an inarticulate sound. Turning to the wall she tapped a concealed button. The door to the cabinet opened. Efraim spoke to Agnois. "Bring what you find to the table."

  Agnois, gingerly brought forth the contents of the cabinet: several leather portfolios and on top an ornate key of iron and silver, which Efraim took up.

  "What is this?"

  "The key to the Privy Case."

  "And this other matter?"

  "These are my private papers," declared Singhalissa in a voice of metal. "My contracts of trisme, the birth documents of the Kang and the Lissolet."

  Efraim glanced through the portfolios. The first showed an intricate architectural plan. He glanced at Singhalissa who stared back coldly. Efraim signaled to Agnois. "Look through. these documents; return to Her Presence the effects she describes. All others, set aside."

  Singhalissa settled herself into a chair and sat stiffly. Agnois leaned his heavy back over the table, peering diffidently into the documents. He finished and pushed one group of papers aside. "These concern the personal affairs of the Kraike. The others more properly belong in the Privy Case."

  "Bring them along." With the coldest of nods to Singhalissa, Efraim departed the chamber.

  He found Matho Lorcas where he had left him, lounging in a massive leather-backed chair, examining a history of the wars between Scharrode and that realm known as Slaunt, fifty miles south. Lorcas put aside the volume and rose to his feet, "What did you learn?"

  "About what I expected. The Kraike has no intention of accepting defeat - not quite so easily." Efraim went to the Privy Case; applied the key and threw wide the heavy doors. For a moment ha regarded the contents: sheaves of documents, tallies; certificates, handwritten chronicles. Efraim turned away. "One time or another I must examine these. But for now" - he looked across the room to where Agnois stood, stiff and silent as a piece of furniture. "Agnois."

  "Yes, Your Force."

  "If you feel that you can serve me with single-minded loyalty, you may continue in your present post. If not, you may resign at this moment, without prejudice."

  Agnois spoke in a soft voice: "I served Kaiark Jochaim many years; he discovered no fault with me. I will continue to serve the rightful Kaiark."

  "Very good. Find suitable materials and prepare s sketch of Benbuphar Strang, indicating the chambers used by the various members of the household."

  "At once, Force."

  Efraim went to the massive central table, seated himself, and began to examine the documents he had taken from Singhalissa. He found what appeared to be a ceremonial protocol, certifying the lineage of the House of Benbuphar, beginning in ancient times and terminating with his own name. In crabbed Old Rhune typescript, Kaiark Jochaim acknowledged Efraim, son of the Kraike Alferica, from Cloudscape Castle5, as his successor. A second portfolio contained correspondence between Kaiark Jochaim and Kaiark Rianlle of Eccord. The most recent file dealt with Rianlle's proposal that Jochaim cede a tract of land known as Dwan Jar, the Whispering Ridge, to Eccord, in consideration of which Rianlle would offer the Lissolet Maerio in trisme to the Kong Efraim. Jochaim politely refused to consider the proposal, stating that trisme between Efraim and Sthelany was under consideration; Dwan Jar could never be relinquished for reasons of which the Kaiark Rianlle was well aware.

  Efraim spoke across the table to Agnois. "Why does Rianlle want the Dwan Jar?"

  Agnois looked up wonderingly. "For the same reason as always, Force. He would build his mountain eyrie on Point sheen where the way is convenient to and from Belrod Strang. The Kaiark Jochaim, you will remember, refused to indulge the Kaiark Rianlle in his urgent caprice, citing an ancient compact with the Fwai-chi."

  "The Fwai-chi? Why should the matter concern them?"

  "The Whispering Ridge harbors one of their sanctuaries,6 Force." Agnois spoke tonelessly, as if he had decided never again to display surprise at Efraim's vagueness.

  "Yes, of course." Efraim opened the third folder and discovered a set of architectural sketches depicting various aspects of Benbuphar Strang. He noticed Agnois averting his gaze in conspicuous disinterest. Here, thought Efraim, were the secret ways of the castle.

  The drawings were elaborate and not readily comprehensible. The Kraike might or might not have made copies of this document. At the very least she had pored over the plans in grim fascination; she undoubtedly knew the secret ways as well as she knew the open corridors.

  "That will be all for the moment," Efraim told Agnois. "Under no circumstances discuss our affairs with anyone! If you are questioned, declare that the Kaiark has explicitly forbidden discussion, hints, or intimations of any sort!"

  "As you command, Force." Agnois raised his faded blue eyes to the ceiling.

  "Allow me, Force, if you will, a personal remark. Since the disfunction of the Kaiark Jochaim, affairs at Benbuphar Strang have not gone altogether well, although the Kraike Singhalissa is, of course, a positive force." He hesitated, then spoke as if the words were forced from his throat by an irresistible inner pressure. "Your return naturally interferes with the plans of the Kaiark Rianlle, and his amicability cannot be taken for granted."

  Efraim attempted to seem puzzled and sagacious at the same time. "I have done nothing to antagonize Rianlle - nothing purposeful certainly."

  "Perhaps not, but purpose means nothing if Rianlle discovers himself to be thwarted. Effectively, you have annulled the trisme between the Kang Destian and the Lissolet Maerio, and Rianlle will no longer derive profit from a trisme between himself and the Kraike Singhalissa."

  "He values the Dwan Jar that highly?"

  "Evidently so, Force."

  Efraim hardly troubled to dissemble his ignorance. "Might he then attack by force?"

  "Nothing can be considered impossible."

  Efraim music a sign of dismissal; Agnois bowed and departed.

  Isp became umber. Efraim and Lorcas traced, retraced, simplified, coded, and rendered comprehensible the plans to Benbuphar Strang. The passage leading up from the back of the refectory seemed no more than a simple shortcut to the second floor of Jaher Tower. The true mirk-ways radiated from a chamber to the side of the Grand Parlor; passages threaded every wall of the castle, intersecting, opening into nodes, ascending, descending, each coded with horizontal stripes of color, each overlooking chambers, corridors, and halls through an assortment of peepholes, periscopes, gratings, and image-amplifiers
.

  From the chambers of the former Kang Efraim and the current Kang Destian radiated less extensive passages, which could be entered by secret means from the Kaiark's Kirk ways. With a gloomy shiver, Efraim pictured himself in his grotesque man mask purposefully striding these secret corridors, and he wondered into whose chambers he had thrust wide the door. He pictured the face of the Lissolet Sthelany: pale and taut, her eyes blazing, her mouth half-parted in an emotion she herself would not know how to interpret... He returned his attention to the red portfolio, and for the tenth time inspected the index which accompanied it, where the locks and springs controlling each exit were described in detail, together with the alarms intended to thwart illicit passage along the Kaiark's mirk-ways. Exit from the terminal chamber - the so-called "Sacarlatto"

  - was barred by an iron door, thus protecting the Kaiark from intrusion, and other such doors blocked the passages at strategic nodes.

  Efraim and Lorcas, having achieved at least a superficial acquaintance with the maze, rose to their feet and considered the wall of the Grand Parlor. Silence was heavy in the chamber.

  "I wooden" mused Lorcas, "I wonder... Might someone intend us unpleasantness?

  A pitfall or a poison web? Perhaps I am oppressed by the atmosphere. Rhunes, after all, are not allowed to murder - except by mirk."

  Efraim made an impatient gesture; Lorcas had accurately verbalized his own mood.

  He went to the wall, touched a succession of bosses. A panel slid aside; they climbed a flight of stone steps and entered the Sacarlatto. They walked upon a dark crimson carpet, under a chandelier of twenty scintillas. Upon each panel of the black- and red-enameled wainscoting hung a carved marble representation of a man-mask in low relief, so that the object lay near-flat against the panel. Each mask depicted a different distortion; each bore a legend in cryptic symbols. At six stations, mirrors and screens provided views across the Grand Parlor. Lorcas spoke in a hushed voice, which was further attenuated by a quality of the chamber. "Do you smell anything?"

  "The carpet. Dust."