by Roger Taylor
‘I know exactly who I’m talking to,’ Skynner thundered. ‘I’m talking to the jackass whose orders caused this, and I’m not going to waste any more time. People are lying injured out there. Now stand aside and let my man get these louts locked up or, better still, have one of your own men do it.’ He drew his baton as he was speaking. One of the guards stepped forward slightly as if to come to the defence of his officer. Skynner flicked his baton into his left hand then, stepping around the head of the pike, seized the shaft with his right. The move was unhurried but fast, and a sudden jerk unbalanced the guard and brought him to his knees with an incongruous, ‘Ooh!’ A further jerk pulled the pike free from his failing grip and Skynner swung it up and dropped it heavily on top of the line of now-wavering pikes. The sudden weight disrupted the line completely and several pikes were dropped. Skynner meanwhile had dragged the fallen guard to his feet. ‘Get these people locked up,’ he said, speaking inches from the man’s face. ‘Then take yourself over to my man there and start helping him sort this mess out.’ Skynner’s grip on the throat of the man’s tunic prevented him from even glancing at his officer. He nodded shakily and croaked something. Skynner released him and pushing the officer to one side turned to the others. ‘The same applies to you, too. Get out there and help.’
‘I protest!’ the officer began, his face now scarlet with indignation. ‘You’ve no authority to…’
‘Shut up,’ Skynner said quietly, placing the end of his baton on the officer’s chest. Then he turned and walked away from him.
* * * *
From a wide recessed window on the second floor of one of the PlasHein towers, Privv stood amid a group of Heinders and PlasHein officials watching the scene at the gate as he had watched the whole affair. While his face showed dismay, his true reaction was one of unalloyed pleasure.
‘This is magnificent,’ he said silently to Leck. ‘Look at those bodies. There must be dozens injured. Children as well.’
‘There’s some dead,’ came the reply, uncomfortable.
‘Better and better. This could sell my Sheets all over the country, let alone in Troidmallos. These are good times, Leck. Good times.’
‘Unless you’re one of the crowd,’ Leck replied darkly.
‘Where are you now?’ Privv asked.
‘On one of the balcony windows in the Debating Hall,’ she replied. ‘There’s still a lot of members here, including Drommel if you want to talk to him.’
Privv thought for a moment. Looking over the square, slowly being organized by Skynner and the other Keepers, it seemed unlikely that anything else of significance was likely to happen. Drommel, on the other hand, might prove extremely interesting.
‘I’m coming down,’ he said. ‘Keep your eye on him.’
Thus as Drommel emerged from the debating chamber, leading a wedge of other Witness Party members, his first sight was of Privv bearing down on him. He held out a hand to ward him off. ‘I can’t talk now, Privv,’ he announced urgently. ‘I’ve only just heard what’s happened outside. It’s dreadful.’
Privv nodded understandingly. ‘The youths who started the disturbance in the viewing balcony were part of the crowd that came here to support your cause,’ he said, matching the tall man’s stride and fending off the others who were obviously unhappy at seeing their leader thus accosted.
‘It’s to be hoped that the Castellans will take due note of the support for our cause among the people, but behaviour such as occurred in the viewing balcony is not acceptable.’ Quickly, he added, ‘I’m sure it was not the wish of those people who came to support us, although I can understand the frustration of people at having to stand by and watch a government dithering as the Castellans are doing, about the protection of our citizens abroad.’
‘You’ll be asking for a Special Assize so that those responsible can be brought to account?’
Drommel looked flustered. ‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘But…’
Then his fellow party members finally succeeded in coming between him and Privv and he was swept away through the main doors of the PlasHein while Privv found himself stranded in the entrance hall. It did not matter. He could weave more than enough around Drommel’s few words. He walked slowly to the door and looked out across the devastation that had been wrought by the panicking crowd. Momentarily he lapsed into genuine curiosity. ‘Did you see exactly what happened?’ he asked Leck.
‘I certainly did,’ Leck replied. ‘And it was very interesting.’
Privv was taken by her tone. ‘Interesting?’
‘It was almost as though the whole thing had been organized.’
‘That’s hardly a revelation, is it?’ Privv declared. ‘The Witness Party have been squeezing this Tirfelden business for all it’s worth. They’re not going to get another chance like this for years. Their efforts and my Sheets were bound to draw a big crowd today.’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Leck retorted impatiently. ‘I meant the disturbance inside the PlasHein and the trouble at the gate.’
‘Explain,’ Privv said, intrigued.
‘Did you see who started the fight inside?’ Leck asked.
‘No,’ Privv admitted. ‘There was just a lot of shouting and abuse, then uproar – struggling bodies everywhere.’
‘As if it might have started in two or three places at once?’
Privv pondered for a moment. ‘I suppose so,’ he said eventually.
‘Well, when the GardHein were bundling them all out into the square, they ran straight into a hail of stones. Stones, Privv. Where do you find stones around here unless you bring them with you?’
‘Go on.’
‘Then people began pushing through the crowd to join those who’d just been thrown out, and there was a great scramble in the gateway. It really did look as though the crowd were trying to storm the place.’
‘And the GardHein captain panicked and ordered his men to lower pikes and charge?’
Denial filled him. As did Leck’s memory of the event, so engrossed was she in recalling it to develop her argument. ‘No, that’s the point. He wasn’t even there. His men managed to get the gate clear, then they lined up to block the gate and began picking up their pikes. But they didn’t charge.’
The scene unfolded in Privv’s mind and he watched it as Leck described it.
‘As if someone had given an order, the men who’d been doing the fighting suddenly all turned and ran into the crowd, shouting, “They’re charging. They’re charging.” The rest was inevitable. Skynner’s men couldn’t do anything. They were too few, too scattered, and taken completely by surprise.’
Privv was silent for some time. ‘Now, thatis interesting,’ he said. ‘But who’d want to do such a thing? Not the Witness Party, for sure. Nor any of the others. I can’t see any benefit to be gained.’
‘There’s more,’ Leck said quietly.
‘Don’t just stand there, man. Help!’
Immersed in his inner conversation with Leck, the voice made Privv start violently. Absently he had walked down the steps of the PlasHein and was standing in the gateway. The person addressing him was a weary-looking Keeper who was just gently laying an injured woman down on the grassy slope. Privv pulled himself together quickly and bent down to help him. ‘I’m sorry, Keeper,’ he said. ‘I’m having some difficulty in believing what I’m seeing.’
The Keeper nodded and gave him a look full of grim understanding, then turned and walked back into the crowded square.
Privv returned to his silent conversation. ‘Go on,’ he said, abandoning the woman and moving away from the gate.
‘When the panic began, the men who started it walked quietly away.’
Untypically, Privv was lost for words. Leck’s observations had added layer upon layer to what was already, beyond doubt, the best story he had ever had. He needed to think about everything carefully and at his leisure to see how he might best profit from it. In the meantime, he realized there were yet more opportunities for him here.
Looking roun
d, he saw a woman kneeling on the ground, her arms wrapped around a child. There was blood on the child’s face and it was very still. The woman was sobbing.
True Sheeter that he was, Privv put a compassionate hand on her shoulder, bent forward and said, ‘What do you feel about all this, then?’
Chapter 24
Vredech looked at the child in his arms. He was holding it tightly to prevent the trembling that was threatening to overwhelm him.
‘Come on, young man, we’d better look for your parents,’ he said as comfortingly as he could.
‘I’m a girl and I was with my brother,’ the child exclaimed, and burst into tears.
Vredech resorted to a vague, ‘There, there,’ and an affectionate pat. ‘Let’s find your brother, then,’ he said.
But there were other demands being made upon him. Hands clutched at him. All around, wide, shocked eyes appealed to him. He was used to dealing with bereaved relatives and people suffering all manner of personal distress, but this had always been in circumstances of domestic intimacy, secure and sheltering. Here, the very familiarity of the surroundings and the blue summer sky overhead merely intensified the bewildered pain that was turning to him for solace.
Despair filled him, acrid and choking. How could he do anything here? He had no experience of such…
He did not complete the thought, for immediately in its wake came the answer: nor has anyone else here.
Ishryth had said, ‘I shall burden no soul with more than it can bear.’ It was one of the anchors of his faith. But…
A hand seized his arm. ‘Brother, my husband is hurt. Please…’
There is no crowd here, just many individuals, he forced himself to think. Those that I can help, I will. Until things change. He turned to the woman and held out the child to her. ‘Show me your husband,’ he said quietly but firmly, looking into her eyes. ‘And look after this little girl, she’s lost her brother.’
The woman faltered briefly, then released his arm and took the child. Vredech followed her to a small circle of people, relatively stationary amid the general confusion. The watchers parted as he reached them. Lying on the rough cobbles was a middle-aged man. He was resting on his elbows, as if fearful of lying down, and one leg was twisted under the other in a manner that needed no medical training on Vredech’s part for him to know that it was badly broken. Where are you, Morem? he thought. Nertha? He dashed the thought aside almost in panic. He must concentrate totally on what was in front of him. He shivered.
‘Are you all right, Brother?’ the injured man asked, grimacing with pain.
‘A little disturbed,’ Vredech replied, formal politeness containing the surge of conflicting emotions that the injured man’s unexpected concern released.
‘What happened?’ the man asked as Vredech knelt down beside him.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Vredech replied. ‘I’m going to try to make you comfortable until I can get a physician to help you properly. Lie still, don’t try to move. Be patient.’ He put his arm around the man’s shoulder to support him and laid a hand on his forehead. The watching circle was closing about him again. Glancing around he saw that people, anxious to help, were emerging from the houses and shops that lined the street. He looked at one of the spectators. ‘Go to one of those people from the houses and ask for blankets and cushions to support and cover this man.’ He turned to another. ‘You keep hold of him until your friend gets back. Don’t move him.’ And to another. ‘Go down to the square. I imagine there’ll be Keepers there by now. Find out what’s happening and come back to me.’ Then to the wife of the injured man. ‘Be patient. Look after the child for me. I’ll not be far away.’
As he stood up, he could see that the small crowd around him had grown. Half a dozen hands reached out to him immediately, and voices became clamorous. He held up his arms. ‘Be quiet,’ he said sternly and with an authority that he did not feel. ‘And be calm. If you’re walking, then you’ve no hurt that won’t wait awhile. You must help those less fortunate. Do as I’ve just done. Make them comfortable. Talk to them, quieten them, until we can find out what’s happened and arrange for some proper help.’ As he had before, he singled out individuals. ‘If you see anyone wandering about lost or obviously distressed and not in control of themselves, bring them…’ He looked around. ‘… there.’ He pointed to the doorway into which he had been pushed. A woman was wandering about helplessly, carrying a chair. From one of the houses, he presumed. He took her arm and pointed her to the same doorway. ‘Put it over there,’ he said gently. ‘And have your neighbours do the same.’
For some time, Vredech was able to use his unexpected healing ministry to keep at bay his fear for Nertha, but eventually it burst through and would not be restrained. With a final delegation of tasks he broke away from his following and started moving back up the street, searching anxiously amongst both the standing and the fallen. He resisted the temptation to add to the noise by calling out her name, but his search was no less frantic than all the others going on around him. He passed a small carriage that was lying on its side, the horse still between its shafts. Its eyes were wide and white, but apart from its heaving flanks, it was motionless, obviously having given up any attempt to right itself. The sight added further to Vredech’s anxiety. If the struggling crowd had turned a horse and carriage over, what chance had Nertha had on her mount?
‘Nertha, Nertha, where are you?’ he whispered softly to himself over and over, like a litany. Terrible reproaches filled him.
If only, if only…
His mind was instantly full of both the future and the past. Of her funeral and what could be said of her there. Of raucous argumentative mealtimes under the tolerant stewardship of their parents.
If only, if only…
Endless causes and effects.
And darkness.
‘Allyn! Allyn!’
It was the tone of the voice rather than the calling of his name that eventually broke through into his crowding thoughts. He looked around, startled. The dreadful images vanished and his life began to reform itself again.
‘Here! Over here!’
At first he did not recognize her. Her long hair had been hastily snatched back and bound with a kerchief, her sleeves were rolled up and her face was streaked with blood. The manner however, was unmistakable; she was beckoning him urgently and her face was angry. He smiled.
‘Allyn, get over here, will you,’ she shouted.
Vredech pushed his way through the crowd. ‘Thank Ishryth you’re all right,’ he said, kneeling down beside her.
She looked at him briefly, reached out and touched his face, as if for reassurance, then said, ‘There’s a green bottle in my saddlebag, Allyn. Get it, this one’s in a bad way.’
Only then did Vredech notice that she was kneeling by an injured man. Badly injured, as she had remarked, for a jagged bone was sticking out of his arm. Vredech felt the blood draining from his face.
‘Damn you, Allyn,’ Nertha hissed furiously. ‘Don’t you dare faint on me. Get that bottle – now!’
Vredech nodded, not daring to open his mouth to reply for fear of what he might release. He looked round. Nertha’s horse was standing patiently nearby, tethered to a metal grille that both decorated and guarded a basement window. Surreptitiously he steadied himself against the animal as he stood up, then, after some fumbling with the straps, he was rooting through the contents of the saddle-bag. It was full of bottles and small boxes and mysterious instruments, held snugly in several rows of robustly-made pockets.
He could feel Nertha willing him on to hurry, her silence being, as usual, more potent than her commands. Just as he sensed her about to rise to complete the task herself, he found a green bottle.
‘Here,’ he said, handing it down to her.
She had opened it and was sprinkling the contents on to a kerchief by the time he had knelt down again. A sweet, pungent smell struck him. It did little to improve his stomach, but his relief at finding Nertha steadied him. ‘H
ow did you manage to stay on your horse?’ he asked.
But she was talking to her patient. ‘This will help the pain. Breathe deeply and count to ten.’ She placed the kerchief deftly but very firmly over the man’s face. He mumbled something, raised his good arm weakly as if to protest, and then went limp. Vredech watched as Nertha’s hands moved surely to the man’s throat and then to his eyelids. She nodded to herself. ‘Watch this and learn,’ she said, adding as an afterthought, ‘But if you’re going to be sick, face the other way.’
There followed a brief interlude during which Vredech stood by, both horrified and fascinated, while Nertha wrestled with the injured man’s arm; pulling, twisting, manipulating. Gradually the exposed bone retreated like a nervous animal into its burrow but Nertha’s fingers continued poking and prodding, her tongue protruding slightly and her face rapt in concentration. Vredech was reminded of the Whistler’s fingers moving purposefully and independently along his black flute. His own fingers were driving their nails into his palms.
Her hands still working, Nertha glanced up at him and grinned ruefully. ‘You look awful.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said defensively.
Nertha’s tongue emerged again and her eyes turned skywards as her face contorted in response to the effort being applied by her hands. A sudden click made Vredech start violently. Nertha’s face relaxed. ‘Got it,’ she said, quietly triumphant, dragging her forearm across her brow. ‘Let’s get him cleaned up and bandaged. He’s a lucky man.’
‘Lucky?’ Vredech was incredulous.
‘Unless that wound becomes badly infected, he’ll live and he’ll probably get the use of his arm back. That’s lucky,’ Nertha said starkly. ‘There’s others here with injuries that I can’t just shove back into place.’ She waved her bloodstained fingers in front of him. ‘Internal injuries, head injuries. I hope Troidmallos’s Sick-House can cope.’ Her voice suddenly became angry. ‘What the devil happened, Allyn?’
Vredech looked at her, head bent again, working steadily on the damaged limb while she was talking. He wanted to put his arms around her and hold her safe. The feeling surprised and unsettled him a little and he made no movement. Besides, he knew that such a gesture would be dangerously inappropriate with Nertha in her present mood.
