Gene Wolfe - Return to the Whorl

Mint looked to the man Pig mentioned. "Is that a ghost?"

"I think it must be, though the woman-Mucor, you may remember her."

Mint nodded.

"She isn't dead, or at least I don't believe she is. But she can appear to people, rather like a ghost, and she appeared to Pig. I know it sounds mad to talk of someone's appearing to a blind man, but he could see her. Couldn't you, Pig?"

"Aye, bucky."

"He thought it wonderful, as I still do. She told him that if he remained with me he might get his sight back. Isn't that correct, Pig? That's what I understood you to say."

"Aye." Pig shifted his huge bulk in his chair. "Yer will nae leave me mair, will yet, bucky?"

"I won't, and that's a promise." He spoke to Mint. "When we got to the city, I wanted very much to be alone awhile in the Sun Street Quarter. You'll understand that, I believe, General; or at least I hope you will."

"We-I've done the same thing."

"I asked Pig to go. He did, and it wasn't until much later that I realized how cruel it had been."

"'Tis Nall right, bucky."

"No, it isn't, and it won't happen again. Perhaps I should say here and now, so that the calde and General Mint can hear it, that if your vision hasn't been restored by the time Silk and I leave for Blue, you're coming with us."

Mint smiled. "That reminds me. I should tell my husband, and you, that we've been haunted again. Not just the little one this time, but by Silk as well."

He stared in consternation. "Are you saying he's dead?"

"No." Her smiled was impish. "In fact, I'm quite certain he's not, Patera."

"Good Silk!" Oreb exclaimed.

He sighed and laid down his fork. "I won't tell you again that I'm not an augur-you know it, and there's no harm in your amusing yourself. Please understand, however, that this is a serious matter to me. I must find Silk and bring him to Blue. I've pledged myself to make every effort. I've kept that pledge so far, and I intend to keep it. If I had been able to find Calde Silk, I wouldn't be troubling you like this; but I haven't. He had a house in the country, or so I'm told-"

Hound interrupted. "A cottage. That's what they say."

"But he's not there, and no one seems to know where he's living now. Hound and Tansy didn't, and they seemed to think it unlikely that anybody in Endroad did. But the calde does-the calde must-"

"I don't," Bison said.

Oreb spoke for his master. "No, no!"

"Darling, you must, you simply must, learn to be tactful." Mint's smile was gone. "Look at him. Look at his face."

His head was in his hands. "If you-this is insane."

She nodded. "It certainly is. Let me explain. It will be insane just the same, and I can't do anything about that. But an explanation may help. You've been gone since the war?"

He nodded.

"You know Silk became calde. Do you also know that he resigned the office in my favor?"

"He was forced out, so I was told."

She shook her head. "He may have felt he was, and even said he was. But he wasn't. A lot of people disagreed with some of his policies, particularly concerning emigration. My own husband was one of them. Eventually the disagreement grew strident, and Silk made a speech. He isn't a very good speaker, and he seldom attempts it, but that was a good one. It was so good, in fact, that it's taught in the palaestras now. He said that he had sent so many people out from Viron because he felt it was his duty to the gods, to Pas and the Outsider, particularly."

Hound, seated at Bison's end of the table, leaned toward her, cupping his ear. "Could you speak up just a little, please? I can't hear you, and I-I'd like to."

"I'll try. Silk also said that he felt it was his duty to the city, to Viron. That he had been in communication with the gods, with Pas specifically, and that the whole whorl would be scourged if enough people didn't go. There were no godlings then, or anyway nobody here had seen one."

Oreb inquired, "See ghost?"

Mint smiled and shook her head. "Then he reminded everyone that he'd promised us often that he would be calde only as long as we wanted him. After that he asked whether the people did. He was still popular with many citizens, but a lot of his firmest supporters had boarded the landers."

Bison said, "There were cheers and boos. You'll want to know whether I cheered or booed, but I doubt that any of you will ask. I cheered. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth."

"It is. I was with him, and I cheered too. But then, and this struck us both like a lightning bolt, he said that he bowed to the popular will. As of the moment he resigned his office-Yes, what is it, Honeysuckle?"

There was a whispered conference before Mint waved her maid away. "Pig, would you be so kind as to push my chair for me? I can move it myself when I have to, but it's a rather heavy chair. Will you help me?"

"Aye, mistress. Honored ter." Pig rose. Groping fingers thrice the size of hers found the handles of her chair and drew her slowly back from the table. "Have ter tell me which way."

"To my right a quarter turn, please."

The three remaining men watched them depart in silence; when they had vanished through a gilded arch, Hound murmured, "I wonder what she wants with him."

Bison picked up the wine bottle. "What makes you think she wants anything?"

"It's-well, obvious. Or I think it is. Maybe I wouldn't think so if I hadn't been around Horn for the past couple days. But it seems obvious after what I've heard. She could have had that girl push her, or pushed herself. Or any of us could have done it, and we can see. Pig might run her into a wall, though I hope he won't. So she wanted to speak to him alone, and jumped at the first opportunity to do it. Jumped is a bad word here, I suppose. But she did."

Bison refilled Hound's wineglass. "If a few days of Horn's company has done that, I ought to keep him around myself. What do you say, Horn? Is your pupil right?"

"I don't know. It seems plausible."

"What is she saying to him? Your best guess."

"If you're asking what she's telling him, I doubt that she's telling him anything. I would guess she's questioning him about something-something she thinks he might speak openly about when the two of them are alone-"

Hound snapped his fingers and looked pleased.

"You've guessed it? What is it? I confess I have only the foggiest ideas."

Hound's mouth opened, then shut again.

Bison said, "Tell us. I'd like to know, too."

"No. I won't. I apologize, Calde. I'm sorry, Horn. But I like General Mint, and Pig's my friend. If they want us to know, they can tell us."

Oreb bobbed approval. "Wise man!"

Bison smiled. "Shall we try to force it out of him, Horn?"

He shook his head. "He's right, and so is Oreb. Hound, you surprise me about once a day. I believe I've said something like that to you before, and it's true. I hadn't thought through the ethical implications. General Mint is an extraordinarily good woman, and a wise one. If she believes her question-and its answer-demands privacy, she's probably correct."

Hound laid a finger to his lips.

As she came through the doorway, Mint announced, "There will be four hot meats, I'm afraid, instead of the five cook planned. But Pig has tasted the shirred oysters for me and pronounces them excellent."

"Aye. H'oreb? H'oreb h'about?"

"Bird here. No go."

"Gi'e yer ae. Yer nae had ther like."

"Good Pig!"

With her chair back at the table, Mint speared an artichoke heart with her fork. "Where was I? Oh, yes, I was trying to explain about the man who shot me."

Bison gave her a concerned look.

"Yes, I was. That's what I was circling around toward. That and the ghost. Pig wants to know about the ghost. He asked me back in the kitchen."

"See ghost?" Oreb repeated.