by Mary Corran
‘Is Lewes the only man you’ve ever killed?’
‘No. Are you regretting it now?’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘Never. The world’s a better place without him.’
‘And all men? Or are you willing to make a few exceptions?’
She frowned, unwilling to let the comment pass. ‘You meant that as a joke, and of course not. I know there are other men like you, Mallory, and women who are as bad as Lewes. But perhaps I should explain something, before I tell you what I think about Vallis.’
‘What?’
She looked down at her hands. ‘Do you know why I married Lewes?’ she asked. ‘It was because my father wanted me to; he thought he would be a good husband, a hard worker for Harrows. He liked him. But, you see, he didn’t know him at all — or, rather, he only knew Lewes as he presented himself to other men, and saw only that side of him. Afterwards, I wondered — but not for long, for I knew he and my mother had a very different relationship, based on trust and affection, and respect; yet my father married me to a man incapable of trusting, or any form of affection. So if I seem to doubt your judgment at times, it’s only because what you see, and what I see, may be entirely different.’
He nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘It’s like the crew on your ship; they may be a fine crew at sea, but when they reach Venture they change. They may have been only common sailors on board ship, but they feel when they come home that everything should be arranged for them — as if their absence gave them a right to behave as they please and indulge themselves, as if their wives and children had been in stasis during their time away, without an independent existence.’ She shrugged. ‘All I’m trying to say is that there are two sides to all of us, and most of us only see one side of another person.’
‘Agreed. But what of it?’
‘It’s just so you’ll listen to what I have to say about finding Vallis. Let me tell you what I saw when I was with Lewes.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘It’s all about a willingness to see what really is, not what we expect to see. Now, first, begin with my being overlooked — because I find it too great a coincidence to believe it’s not in some way connected to our search.’ Mallory nodded. ‘The man lives in Venture and must be rich; Omond said the diviner was powerful, and his services must be paid for. Agreed?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Second, he must be ambitious. The Oracle suggested Vallis was a prisoner: “her wings bound and flightless”. The man who has her must have taken her for some reason of his own, not just to preserve her life.’
Mallory considered the point. ‘That seems reasonable.’
‘Then, third, he has my brooch, so four, I must know him, or at least have met him; that would explain what the Oracle said to me; “within your compass lies the means to pierce the veil”.’
Mallory sat up straight, looking grim. ‘Who are you saying?’
‘Avorian.’
‘Why?’ He made the word an accusation, but she was ready with her answer.
‘Because it must be.’ She hurried on: ‘I’m not like you, Mallory, I know or meet very few rich men. The brooch I lost might have been during the invasion of the hostel by Sim and his friends, but the fight made me forget that earlier the same day I visited Avorian to go through the tribute contributions with him.’ She hesitated, deciding to edit the account. ‘I fainted in his house; the brooch could easily have been taken then.’
‘It’s possible.’
‘That was what I meant about seeing different sides of the same person. You see, with you I’m sure Avorian is not the same man I see,’ Asher said flatly, trying to explain. ‘How well do you really know him? Not very, I think. I thought I liked him, because he was courteous and he flattered me; but when I thought about it I knew he allowed ill treatment of a slave in his house, for I saw it myself. He believes absolutely in the disposition of the Fates, for I heard him say so to his daughter.’
‘That hardly proves him guilty, and the man is famed for his integrity throughout the Dominion,’ Mallory observed irritably.
‘True. But a reputation for fair-dealing doesn’t mean anything more than that he’s a clever merchant; it says nothing about the man within. There’s more. Consider Kerrick, Avorian’s nephew. You saw how he behaved on the journey here — would you entrust such a man with your business?’
‘I might,’ Mallory answered, and Asher saw that while his opinion of the man was the same as her own, his reactions were quite different. ‘After all, Kerrick is a member of Avorian’s clan, close kin, and the Chief Councillor has precious few of those.’
‘Would you?’ Asher sighed, realizing their opinions were far apart, for she would never trust a man like Kerrick with any task, however small. ‘Then explain to me why, during the time we were with Kerrick, I felt no overlooking. It was only after we parted that the feeling came again.’
He was silent for a time. At last he said unwillingly: ‘There may be something in what you say; in fact, there must be. If I sound as if I doubt you, Asher, it’s because I simply don’t want to believe Avorian could be guilty. He’s too important to the future of our city — even the country, given his contributions to the Tribute — for me to accept this charge against him unproven.’
‘I’m aware of all that.’
Then, assuming you’re right, how do we go about proving it? And where is the girl? He has a daughter — could she be Vallis?’
‘It seems very unlikely, doesn’t it? Too many people would have to be involved for Menna to be Vallis, although she’s dark and the right age. But as to how, I think that will need a certain amount of cooperation between you and me.’
Mallory frowned. ‘In what way?’
‘Essa, the woman who owns our hostel, runs an employment agency for domestic staff, and she’s found maids for Avorian before.’ Asher smiled. ‘In fact, providing Kerrick keeps away from Venture, Mylla might go into the house. She’s very good at ferreting out information.’
To her surprise, Mallory looked appalled. ‘You mean to spy on him in his own house?’ he said, in a tight voice.
‘What better way is there?’
‘No.’ He scowled. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound critical, but it never occurred to me before that any of the maids in my own household could be more interested in what I do than in her wages.’
Asher hid her amusement. ‘No, I don’t suppose it did.’
He gave a sigh. ‘All right. Let’s go back to Avorian. We shall need to look at his history and his investments. I’m in the best position to do that; there must be records in the Administration and Records offices.’
Asher nodded. ‘I find myself growing more curious about his offer to make up the tribute; fifteen thousand or so in gold is a vast amount of money. Do you still believe his motive is solely generosity?’
‘A point. But for the present I can’t imagine any other reason.’
‘See what you can find out, Mallory. You could even ask him, which is more than I could.’
‘The more I think about it, the more unlikely it all seems.’
Asher shivered, seized by a sudden premonition of disaster, unspecific and unhelpful. ‘I think he’d make a bad enemy.’
‘But why should he have taken Vallis? It makes no sense.’ Mallory sounded irritable, too tired to hide it. ‘What purpose could he have?’
‘I don’t know, but nothing that has happened to us so far has been coincidence, not since we met before the Oracle on the same errand. What if Avorian, too, acts in accordance with some prophecy? A man who believes so absolutely in the Fates could justify any action.’
‘So you would have said, not so long ago. You’ve changed,’ Mallory said abruptly. ‘I can’t tell you how, but there’s something — ’
She nodded. ‘I saw my death, in the barn with Lewes. That was why I didn’t try to help myself.’
To her surprise, he accepted the explanation without question. ‘Omond said you had something of the gift.’
/> ‘Gift? Yet it nearly killed me, because I thought there was nothing I could do to alter my fate.’ Her feelings towards this new talent were distinctly ambivalent.
‘You’re a free woman now. Your life is yours, whatever you choose to do with it.’
She was unsure whether she detected envy in his voice, her boundaries widening as his had contracted. ‘Yet now I seem to see too many choices, and any one may be wrong.’
‘I could wish I saw the same. We leave here in two days,’ Mallory said, abruptly changing the subject. ‘Will you come with me or rejoin your friends? You could give me a message for — Essa, was it? — to get the investigation started.’
‘I must meet Margit and go on with her to the last few villages, but Mylla could go back to Venture with you. There’s no need for her to stay with us.’
‘I liked her. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with more energy.’ Mallory smiled. ‘An unconventional young woman.’
‘I shall miss her when she marries her cousin Jan this summer.’ Asher sighed. ‘Sometimes I feel sorry they found they were suited after all.’
‘I thought you women were opposed to marriage?’ The question was only half in jest.
‘Oh, no. Margit is, of course, and one or two of the others. But Essa is a widow, and most of the others will marry when they meet someone to share their lives.’
‘And you?’
There was an uncomfortable moment between them. Does he mean — ? Asher thought in surprise; she had no wish to change their new relationship, had not considered that passion might succeed the comfortable affection of friendship. Yet she could see that Mallory, at heart a conventional man, looked at her in a different way now she was no longer bound to another man, as if he might now be free to speculate on the possibility of their becoming lovers.
For a moment she was curious herself, wondering what a physical relationship might be like with a man who wanted her, rather than one whose use for her had been at best perfunctory. That there was a physical attraction between herself and Mallory she did not attempt to deny, but it was well within her control. One day she would like to discover what that sort of love was like, yet that seemed always an unequal partnership, offering the prospect of deep unhappiness as well as great joy; with love came bonds of obligation, and, for the woman at least, a lessening of freedom. For him, too, perhaps, with a sense of responsibility for the woman. If she gave Mallory her body, she would have committed herself to him. Would he find her ugly, as Lewes had done? And there was the chance of children, of the lifelong chains of duty, effecting a subtle alteration in their relationship and reducing her to dependence.
‘Come on. You’re half-asleep.’ Mallory stood and held out his hands to her, pulling her to her feet; the palms were warm and dry and hard, and she let herself wonder what it would be like to have those same hands caressing her.
No. I will be free — anything is possible now, anything at all! She drew back abruptly. There was the first hint of dawn in the darkness outside; Asher walked to the door, then turned back.
‘Thank you, Mallory. Thank you for everything.’
She stumbled up the stairs, barely aware of grey skies and a rising wind as the darkness brightened perceptibly, daylight coming in through the windows along the passage. When she reached her room she sank on to the bed, not bothering to undress; she pulled the blankets over her and shut her eyes.
Before she fell asleep, she knew a moment of rare and perfect happiness, as if she were a child again without the burdens of maturity, and the thought returned to her: Anything is possible now; anything at all!
PART THREE
Free Will
Chapter Thirteen
The twin troop transporters had docked at Cloth Quay at midday, but two hours later the councillors were still waiting for the new governor to disembark. The quay was surrounded by a phalanx of Kamiri guardsmen, who kept back the ordinary citizens of Venture who had little real interest in the new governor but relished more any spectacle that disrupted the working day.
‘I rather think,’ Avorian murmured softly to Mallory, ‘that we are supposed to be impressed by this spectacle, instead of cursing the wretched man for keeping us waiting.’
‘I only hope it doesn’t start a riot.’ There was certainly a restive air to the crowd, but that was natural enough, given the occasion; the arrival of the ships that were to take the tribute money to Javarin was hardly a cause for celebration.
Both warships were immense, built carrack-type but with the addition of castle structures fore and aft for use in keeping watch for sea-raiders during the month-long journey. Painted in blues and greens, each carried three hundred soldiers in addition to its normal crew of four hundred, replacements for those who had already served a full term of duty in Darrian. They were slow-moving, lumbering vessels compared with the smaller caravels favoured by the merchants, but Mallory could not deny they looked impressive, even oppressive, their pennants displaying Amrist’s symbolic jackal waving in the breeze from masts which stood higher than any of their fellows. If the new governor’s intent was to demonstrate the superiority of his own nation over that of a mere tributary, it was effective.
There was a commotion from somewhere near the top of the gangway; Mallory shifted his weight to his left foot, hoping it heralded movement. He, Avorian, and Councillor Hamon had been delegated the dubious honour of forming the reception party for Haravist, the new governor of Venture, but since this was his first experience of such an occasion he had not known how much time it would consume. Was the man keeping them waiting deliberately, as Avorian suggested? He glanced at his fellow councillor, wondering yet again whether Asher could be correct in her identification of him as their opposition. In the two weeks that had passed since his return to the city, Mallory had encountered Avorian almost every day, and by no sign had the older man given any indication that he regarded Mallory as anything but a potential ally.
‘Ah — the musicians are ready,’ Avorian remarked with satisfaction. ‘Soon now, I think.’
Looking up, Mallory could see that on deck eight drummers and a further eight men, carrying the odd horn-shaped trumpets favoured by the Kamiri, had ranged themselves to either side of the gangway. At some unseen signal, a deep drumroll began; all the grey soldiers on the quay stiffened to attentive response and a tall figure appeared on deck, dressed in grey cap and formal full-length robe. He processed down the gangway with slow-paced deliberation, well aware of the impression he was making in his descent. Midway, he paused, looking up at the city, and higher still to the citadel of the Oracle, and Mallory had the impression that he bowed very slightly in the direction of the latter, a mark of deep respect from a Kamir.
Avorian, as leader of the delegation, advanced to where a sheet of cloth of gold had been spread over the cobbles of the quay in the Kamir’s honour.
‘Lord Governor.’ He inclined his head, not deeply but enough for courtesy. His dress for the occasion was a flamboyant coat of purple, but unlike the Kamir he wore no head-covering; although a tall man, he was still several inches shorter than the new governor, but nonetheless an impressive figure. ‘As Chief Councillor of Venture, I welcome you to our city.’
The grey face evinced no pleasure in the greeting, nor did the Kamir return Avorian’s courtesy. Cold grey eyes swivelled from left to right, taking in the waiting crowd, over whom an uneasy silence had fallen.
‘Why have these people come?’ he demanded, speaking in the slow, harsh accents of Javarin.
‘A mark of respect, Governor,’ Avorian said easily.
‘Disperse them. Crowds make for disorder and violence.’ Haravist was looking directly over Mallory’s head, giving orders to a soldier standing behind him; it was an extraordinary display of arrogance, as if the three councillors were, to him, as insignificant as the cloth beneath his feet. Avorian caught his eye and winked; hastily, Mallory looked away.
‘Has the tribute been collected?’ Haravist asked Avorian coldly. ‘There
is no shortfall?’
‘None, Governor.’ It was hard not to admire the man’s ease of manner, unabashed by the Kamir’s intentional rudeness.
The new governor did not seem pleased with the response, for he frowned. He possessed neither beard nor moustache, which was unusual among his race, and his skin was a darker grey than most, almost slate in colour; it was difficult to judge his age, but Mallory guessed him to be close to fifty, a battle-hardened soldier too old, now, for active service, who resented this apparent demotion to civil duty.
‘My fellow councillors — Councillor Mallory, and Councillor Hamon,’ Avorian continued smoothly, indicating each in turn. Mallory imitated Avorian’s own inclination of the head, but Hamon, an elderly man of florid complexion and stiff-necked pride, merely blinked. Haravist favoured each with a brief glare.
‘The wind is cold. I wish my escort to the residence.’ An order was barked out from somewhere to his left, and four men came forward at a run bearing a litter. ‘I shall doubtless receive you in due course, once I have communicated my orders to my predecessor. You have two further weeks before he leaves with the tribute.’
‘We are quite ready, Governor.’ Avorian waited until Haravist had been installed in the litter and removed, at the centre of a heavily armed squadron, before speaking again. ‘How useful to know how highly our new governor values us! Although it seemed to me he would prefer our heads to our gold,’ he observed dryly to his companions.
‘Only temporarily,’ Mallory corrected. Their eyes met. ‘Why take a leg when with a little effort you can have the whole horse?’
Avorian smiled. ‘How well our minds agree, Councillor. Will you walk with me? I have a small matter to discuss with you — concerning this new amendment you propose to the city statutes.’
‘Certainly.’ Mallory turned to Hamon, who was staring at them, puzzled, not having followed what was being said. ‘If you would excuse us?’
Hamon seemed relieved and walked away. Mallory made use of the moment to look at what little remained of the crowd, for Asher had said she was to meet Mylura at the docks during the afternoon, but he could see neither of them, nor recognized any of the faces of those still lingering on the quays.
