K Parker - Pattern

'No,' Poldarn replied. In front of his eyes, Boarci and Egil were still flapping away with their coats; everything was moving, but nothing was changing. 'What happened?'

Monach laughed. 'Oh, it hasn't happened yet-in the time-frame you're looking at, I mean. In this time-frame, we're about twenty seconds away from the fire spreading to the thatch, which is where the trouble starts. In about five seconds, though, you'll fall over backwards and hit your head, so I'd better get a move on. You trip over your feet, bang your head and go to sleep-is this starting to sound familiar, by the way?-then the building catches light, everybody panics and squashes out through the door; it's only later, when the fire's taken hold and the roof's starting to fall in, that someone says, Hey, where's Ciartan? and they realise you must still be inside. You know,' Monach went on, reaching past a burning man and taking a honeycake off a plate, 'your life is woven from two dominant threads, tragedy and lack of originality. Not only do really shitty things happen to you, they happen over and over again.' He bit into the cake and chewed before continuing. 'There's a very good reason for that, by the way, like there's a very good reason for everything that goes on around here, and you're the only person in the whole wide world who isn't allowed to know what it is. That must really get up your nose sometimes, I guess.'

'I'm asleep,' Poldarn said. 'And dreaming all this.'

'Correct,' Monach said. 'Actually, it goes deeper than that; in fact, from a professional point of view, as far as I'm concerned, this is a real beauty, a genuine collector's item. You see, you aren't just dreaming this now, as you're lying on your pile of straw surrounded by your nearest and dearest. This is going to be one of your favourite recurring nightmares, you'll come back here time and again, sometimes weeks in a row; so I'm not just talking to you now, I'm talking to you all through your life, present, future and past. You know, I could work this up into a really good paper for the Founders' Day lecture, if you hadn't burned down Deymeson.' He grinned, and reached for another cake. 'Very good, these,' he said. 'Next time we meet up like this you must give me the recipe. Do you understand what I'm telling you? You bloody well ought to, you were top of the class in divinity theory in Third Year. I always had trouble getting my head around logical paradox, but it never bothered you any.'

'Please,' Poldarn said, 'I want to wake up now, I don't like this dream.'

'Not surprising. You aren't meant to like it. That's why they call them nightmares.' Monach sighed. 'What really amazes me is how few of them you have, considering the stuff you've got up to over the years. Compared to most of what you've done and been through, this is a picnic. Still, I guess it's all a matter of interpretation; and this is one of the main turning points in your life-well, we're just coming up to it, or else we've just passed it, depending on which direction we happen to be going in at the time.' He smiled. 'No, I'm not making it easy for you, I know. You'd hate that, you'd reckon it was patronising. Now, this girl you've just married-' He pointed; Elja was staring up at the roof and pointing. 'Lovely kid, she really likes you, I'd say you're on to a good thing there, even if she is young enough to be your daughter. God only knows what she sees in you, but that's her business, I suppose. Anyway, I trust you'll treat her a bit better next time you're here. She'll forgive you, I expect. That's the amazing thing about these people, this extraordinary knack they've got for forgiving and forgetting, or at least turning a blind eye.' Monach yawned-Poldarn could see bits of chewed cake on his tongue-then turned into a crow and, flapping the burning sleeves of his gown, lifted aloft, and flew slowly up into the smoke and flames of the roof.

'Wake up,' said a voice in his ear, 'for crying out laud.'

So he woke up. He was lying in the yard, next to the woodpile, and someone had just thrown a bucket of water in his face. No pile of straw, he noted, and no circle of anxious faces (so either Monach had got it wrong, or all that stuff was for next time; he repeated the thought in his mind, but this time none of it made any sense); just Boarci standing over him with an empty bucket.

'Bloody hell,' Poldarn croaked. 'What happened to you?'

'What? Oh, you mean my beard.' Boarci pulled a sad face. 'Got set on fire, didn't it? And when I looked at it just now, I figured, bloody fool I'd look with only half a beard. So I shaved the rest off. It'll grow back,' he sighed. 'Eventually.'

'How about the rest of you? You were all on fire,' Poldarn remembered.

'Just my clothes,' Boarci replied, 'though they're all ruined, of course, which is a pain. You know, I'm not having much luck here. When I arrived, I didn't have much but at least I had the clothes I stood up in. Not any more. This lot belongs to your middle-house stockman. Anyway,' he went on, 'it could've been worse. Nobody died, is the main thing, and they reckon they can patch up the house, given time. Not the most cheerful wedding I've ever been to, but livelier than some.'

Poldarn stood up. His legs were weak, but they seemed to be working. 'Where's Elja?' he said. 'Is she all right?'

Boarci nodded. 'A bit crispy round the edges, if you know what I mean, but yes, she's fine. Over there in the trap-house, cutting bandages and stuff. Only one who got anything like a nasty burn was your brother-in-law Egil, and it's only the backs of his hands, should heal up in time. I've seen worse.'

'That's a comfort,' Poldarn muttered. 'What happened to me?'

Boarci laughed. 'Bloody comical, that was. That lamp shattered, you jumped back, fell over your feet and nutted yourself on the deck. Out like a snuffed candle. Anyway, you were sleeping like a little lamb, so I got you out and here we are.'

Now that he mentioned it, Poldarn's head was hurting. 'What about the house?' he said.

'Oh, once they'd pulled themselves together it was business as usual. That's how come I've only just woken you up, there wasn't a bucket of water to spare till now. It's a bloody mess in there, but really it's just a few rafters and plates need replacing, the rest they can patch up. You know what they're like when they get started on a job.'

'That's good,' Poldarn said. 'So everything's under control, is it?'

Boarci laughed. 'As much as it ever is,' he replied. 'You ought to go and lie down-you look as sick as a pig. There's nothing for you to do, if that's what you're on about.'

'Good,' Poldarn said. 'I think I'll go and find Elja.'

'Yeah, why not? Of course, she'll probably tell you to get lost, she's got work to do. But it shows the right spirit, I suppose.'

Poldarn nodded. The movement hurt. 'So,' he said, 'did Elja and me get married or not?'

'I think so,' Boarci said with a grin. 'Anyhow, close enough for government work. And it saved having to listen to all the speeches, so really it's a blessing. Though I was looking forward to yours.'

'Mine? I was supposed to make a speech?'

'Oh yes,' Boarci said solemnly. 'High spot of the event. There, see how lucky you are? If you fell in a shitheap you'd find a truffle.'

'Well,' Poldarn said nervously, 'there it is. Our house.'

Elja nodded. 'I've seen it before. It's very nice. Have they got the furniture in yet?'

'I think so,' Poldarn replied, guessing. 'I expect they have, it's the sort of detail they're good at. Anyhow, I'm sure there'll be something to sit down on and somewhere to sleep.'

'Mphm.' Elja nodded her head, neatly forestalling the implied topic. 'I don't suppose anybody's brought any food.'

'You're hungry?'

'Yes,' she replied firmly, 'very. I didn't have any breakfast, and we didn't get anything to eat after the wedding, what with the fire and everything. It's very important for you to know that I get extremely bad-tempered when I'm hungry.'