Gene Wolfe - CALDE OF THE LONG SUN

said you'd gotten separated."

Silk nodded again.

"I don't want to pry into your personal affairs."

"I appreciate that. Believe me, Maytera, I appreciate it very

much." He hesitated, staring through the open window at the

wind-rippled green lawn before he spoke again. "I thought it might

be one of Hyacinth's, as I said. In fact, I rather hoped it was; but it

couldn't be. It almost fits Chenille, as you say, and Hyacinth's much

smaller." The circles, which had ceased to spin, reappeared. "What

do you call that fabric?"

"It's chen... Why, I see what you're getting at, and you're

right, Patera! That gown's chenille, exactly like her name!"

"Not silk?"

Maytera Marble snapped her fingers. "I know! She must have told

the maid her name, and it suggested the gown."

"She kissed me as she left," he remarked. "I certainly didn't invite

it, but she did. You must have seen it."

"Yes, Patera. I did."

"I suppose she wanted to signal that she was with us--that she

supported us. Master Xiphias made a gesture of the same sort,

probably something to do with swordplay. Anyway, her kiss made

me think of silk, of the fabric I mean, for some reason. It seemed

strange, but I thought perhaps her skirt had brushed my hand. You

say it's actually called chenille?"

"Chenille _is_ silk, Patera. Or anyway the best chenille is, and the

other is something else that's supposed to look like silk. Chenille

is a kind of yarn, made of silk, that's furry-looking like a

caterpillar. If they weave cloth of it, that's called chenille too. It's

a foreign word that means caterpillar, and silk threads are spun

by silkworms, which are a kind of caterpillar. But I'm sure you

know that."

"I must speak to her!" he said. "Not now, but when we're alone,

and as soon as I can."

"Good girl!"

"Yes, Oreb. Indeed she is." Silk returned his attention to Maytera

Marble. "A moment ago when you spoke to Loris, you didn't want

us to leave this room. Would you mind telling me why?"

"Was I as transparent at that?"

"No, you weren't transparent at all; but I know you, and if you'd

really been so worried about me, you would have asked him to let us

talk in a bedroom where I could lie down, and to send for a doctor.

I don't suppose Blood's got one, now that Doctor Crane's dead; but

Loris might have been able to supply one, or to send someone for

one of the Guard's doctors under a flag of truce, like that white flag

next to your chair."

Maytera Marble looked grave. "I should have asked him to do

that. I can still ask, Patera. I'll go out and find him. It won't take a

moment."

"No, I'm fine. By Phaea's favor--" It was too late to call back the

conventional phrase. "I'll recover. Why did you want to stay here?"

"Because of this window." Maytera Marble waved a hand at it.

"Bloody had opened it while we were in here by ourselves, and I

worried the whole time that someone would get cold and shut it.

You must know Mucor, Patera. She said you sent her to me."

Silk nodded. "She's Blood's adopted daughter."

"Adopted? I didn't know that. She said she was Bloody's daughter.

That was Hieraxday night, terribly late... Do you know

Asphodella, Patera?"

Silk smiled. "Oh, yes. A lively little thing."

"That's her. I'd done the wash, you see, and I wanted to pour the

dirty water on my garden. Plants actually like dirty water with

soapsuds in it better than clean. It sounds wrong, I know, but they

do."

"If you say so, I'm sure it must be true."

"So I was pouring out the water, so much for each row, when

Asphodella pulled my skirt. I said what are you doing out so late,

child? And she told me she'd gone with the others to fight, but Horn

had sent her back--"

"Cat come!" Oreb warned. Silk looked for it, seeing none.

"Horn had sent her home, and quite right, too, if you ask me,

Patera. So now she wanted to know if there'd be palaestra on

Thelxday."

"Then," Silk said slowly, "her face changed. Is that it, Maytera?"

"Yes. Exactly. Her face became, well, horrible. She saw I was

frightened, as I certainly was, and said don't be afraid, Grandmother.

My name's Mucor, I'm Blood's daughter." Maytera Marble

paused, not certain that he understood. "Have I told you Bloody's

my son, Patera? Yes, I know I did, right after we sacrificed in the

street."

"He was Maytera Rose's," Suk said carefully. "You, I know, are

also Maytera Rose--at least, at times."

"All the time, Patera." Maytera Marble laughed. "I've integrated

our software. As far as we sibyls are concerned, I'm your best friend

and worst enemy, all in one."

He stirred uncomfortably in Blood's comfortable chair. "I was

never Maytera Rose's enemy, I hope."

"You thought I was yours, though, Patera. Perhaps I was, a little."

He leaned toward her, his hands folded over the crook of

Xiphias's cane. "Are you now, Maytera? Please be completely frank

with me."

"No. Your friend and well-wisher, Patera."

Oreb applauded, flapping his wings. "Good girl!"

She added, "Even if I were entirely Maytera Rose, I'd do all I

could to get you out of this."

Silk let himself fall back. It was astonishing how soft these chairs

of Blood's were. He remembered (vividly now) how badly he had

wanted to rest in his chair, to sleep in it, when he had talked with

Blood in this very room. Yet this one was better, just as Blood had

promised: yielding where it should, firm where firmness was desirable.

He stroked one wide arm, its maroon leather as smooth as

butter beneath his touch.

"They let me lie down after I was captured," he confided to

Maytera Marble. "Sand did. I'd had to walk all the way to this

house, and it was a very long way. It had seemed long when Auk

and I rode donkeys; and walking with Sand's gun at my back, it

seemed a great deal longer; but once we arrived, once we'd climbed

up through the hatch into the cellar, he let me lie down on the floor.

He isn't a bad man, really--just a disciplined soldier obeying bad

men. There's good in Loris, too, and even in Potto. I know you

must sense it, just as I do, Maytera; otherwise you'd never have

spoken to Potto as you did. That's why--one reason, anyway--I

don't feel that this situation from which you're trying to rescue me is

as bad as it appears, though I'll always be grateful."

"Cat! Cat!" Oreb flew from Silk's shoulder to the head of an

alabaster bust of Thelxiepeia.

Maytera Marble smiled. "There's no cat in here, you pretty bird."

"You were telling me about this room," Slik reminded her, "and

meeting Mucor. I wish you'd continue with that. It may be

significant."

"I--Patera, I want to tell you first about meeting you. It won't

take long. and it may be more important, maybe a lot more

important. You still think about the day you came to our manteion,

I know. You've mentioned it several times."

He nodded.

"Patera Pike was there, and you loved and respected him, but a

man wants a woman to talk to. Most men do, anyway, and you did.

You'd been raised by your mother, and we could see how you

missed her."

"I still do," Silk admitted.

"Don't feel bad about that, Patera. No one should ever be

ashamed of love."

Maytera Marble paused to collect her thoughts; her rapid scan

was back, and she reveled in it. "We were three sibyls, I was about to

say. Maytera Mint was still young and pretty, but so shy that she ran