Roger Taylor - Whistler

Despite himself, Privv’s smile faltered and he swallowed.

‘Oh,’ he said, memories coming back to him of the pieces he had written about Horld many years ago, making wholly unfounded allegations about the blacksmith having destroyed his own forge as an act of spite against his landlord. He had not had the judgement then that he had now, though the pieces had brought him a good deal of fame within Sheeting circles and had proved very worthwhile both financially and professionally. He had continued making cynical innuendoes about Horld’s subsequent conversion to the church for some time afterwards and had only let the matter go when other, better scandals had arisen.

This was only the second occasion he had met him however, and, admittedly not for the first time in his life, he felt more than a little vulnerable.

Horld stepped forward, closing the door quietly behind him. He had a powerful presence when he chose and, standing very close to Privv he gave him the full lowering benefit of it. Privv was nothing if not resilient, however. He held out his hand.

‘Such a long time, Brother Horld,’ he said. ‘Why, we haven’t met since before you were ordained. You’re doing very well for yourself these days, aren’t you? Chapter Member and all.’

Habit rather than anything else brought Horld’s hand out to take Privv’s. The Sheeter felt a tremor of alarm as the ex-blacksmith’s great muscular fist closed about his by-now quite clammy hand, and he withdrew it as quickly as he could without actually snatching it back.

Horld recovered from his momentary politeness. ‘What do you want, Privv?’ he asked brusquely.

In the absence of any greater inspiration, Privv rambled on about the great cloud, as he had with Morem. Horld looked as if he had a great deal to say, but when Privv had finished he simply shook his head slowly and said, ‘No. We’ve had no unusual experiences up here. It was just a freak weather condition of some kind. People get over-anxious. Let’s be grateful it didn’t turn into a storm, eh? There’d have been something to get distressed about then. Of course, people read such nonsense these days, don’t they? Good-bye.’ And he was retreating into the Witness House almost before Privv could respond.

‘What about Cassraw?’ he blurted out.

Horld stopped, then half-turned round to him.

‘Something to hide, something to hide.’ Leck’s chant resonated through Privv as he read the cleric’s posture.

‘Do you mean Brother Cassraw?’ Horld asked censoriously, in his best preaching manner. But Privv had been too long immune to what was left of his childhood encounters with the church to be seriously intimidated.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Forgive me.’ Then, before Horld could turn back to the door again, ‘I hear that Brother Cassraw had an accident yesterday.’

Horld looked straight at him, his face unreadable. ‘Where did you hear such a tale?’ he asked.

Privv shrugged. ‘One picks these things up,’ he said blandly.

Horld nodded understandingly. ‘I’m sure you do,’ he said. ‘What an interesting profession you’ve chosen for yourself.’ And, though he did not seem to hurry, he was suddenly through the door and quietly closing it.

This time, reflexes took Privv forward before he had time to think and the heavy door closed painfully on his foot. It did little to ease his distress that Horld gave the door a good push as though perhaps the hinges might have jammed, before apparently realizing that it was Privv’s foot that was causing the problem.

‘Dear me,’ he said in a voice noticeably lacking in regret. ‘You must be more careful. You’re going to injure yourself doing things like that.’ He looked at Privv. ‘Did you want to ask me something else?’

Then he opened the door to release Privv’s foot.

‘Brother Cassraw,’ Privv said, through clenched teeth. ‘I believe he had an accident last night.’

‘Ah. The titbit you… picked up,’ Horld said. ‘I can’t imagine where you heard about that, but it’s quite true. Brother Cassraw went for a breath of fresh air yesterday after a long meeting of the Chapter, and unfortunately, the light being rather bad, took a bit of a tumble. He’ll be sore for a day or two, but if it’s likely to be of any interest to your readers you can certainly reassure them that nothing serious has happened to him.’

He laid a hand on Privv’s shoulder, as if to turn him gently back on his way down the mountain, but Privv held his ground.

‘He went out when the thickest storm clouds anyone’s ever known here were overhead?’ he exclaimed, his eyes too wide and eyebrows too arched.

Horld nodded. He was reluctant to bend the truth any further and was well aware of the fact that in resisting a powerful urge to throttle this individual, he was being too easy with him. Leaving his hand on Privv’s shoulder he risked another step towards perdition, however.

‘Brother Cassraw’s a vigorous and inquiring individual,’ he said. ‘Ever curious. While we were content to watch from shelter, he wanted to be amid it all. And the clouds were a remarkable sight from up here, I can assure you. He presumed that the worst he might suffer would be a wetting, so off he went.’ He shrugged as if that were the end of the tale, but Privv’s silence and his enthralled and expectant face lured him into continuing. ‘When he’d been out rather longer than we thought he would, we became a little concerned and a few of us went to look for him. We met him limping down.’

Before Privv could provoke him into further admissions, Leck’s voice floated into his mind. ‘I’m getting nothing here. They’re all too busy preparing a meal to be gossiping. I’ll tell you what though, these people eat well. Some way this side of pious frugality for sure.’

Privv did not reply. ‘Could I perhaps have a word with Brother Cassraw?’ he asked Horld. ‘I’m sure my readers would be interested to hear his… impressions of the clouds as seen from up here.’

‘No,’ Horld said categorically and a little too hastily. ‘I’m afraid we’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Perhaps you could go down to the Haven Meeting House and make an appointment to see him. I’m sure he’d be happy to speak to you when he has the time.’

‘I’ve just been there,’ Privv retorted. ‘But there’s no one there except a housekeeper. Apparently his wife was called out urgently last night.’

He felt Horld’s hand closing about his shoulder.

Something to hide, something to hide.

Suddenly, like a rasping saw-blade, a hissing, in-drawn breath cut across his growing elation. He felt the hairs on his neck and his arms tingle and rise. Then his nostrils were full of intense and heady scents, his ears full of strange, exaggerated sounds and his mind full of utterly alien images. Instinctively his hands came up to squeeze his nose and rub his neck violently to shake off the sensation. But Leck’s powerful and fearful response to something would not leave him.

He began to sway unsteadily.

‘For pity’s sake, cat, what are you doing?’ Privv cried out silently as Leck’s screaming emotions swept through him.

‘What’s the matter?’ Horld’s voice reached him through the uproar, faint and distorted, as though the speaker were far away. And the tall figure of the cleric framed in the door to the Witness House seemed to be at once near and yet distant, standing at both ends of a long, howling tunnel. Somehow Privv managed to nod by way of reply but he could not speak. Whatever Leck was reacting to, her response was threatening to overwhelm him utterly.

Privv took a deep breath. He must exert every ounce of his will to reach into the cat’s mind and calm it, or he would be swept along totally by its now ravening animal nature. Bad enough when this happened in private, but here…