Gene Wolfe - Exodus from the Long Sun

“Sure thing, Calde.”

“I don’t have a floater at present, except for the Guard floaters, and Oosik needs those. Perhaps I could hire you and your floater — we’ll talk about it.

“Maytera, do whatever you must, and tack up that note. I was hoping to sacrifice here and go to the Cock when I left, but both will have to wait. Tomorrow, perhaps.

“Hossaan, I’m going into the manse for a moment while she does all that; then we’ll collect Mucor and a young woman who came here with me, and pay off my litter.”

“I heard you had a pet bird,” Saba said, eyeing Oreb; she was a massive woman with a marked resemblance to an angry sow.

Silk smiled. “I’m not sure pet’s the correct word. I’ve been trying to set him free for days. The result has been that he comes and goes as he pleases, says anything he wants, and seems to enjoy himself far more than I do. Today we went back to my manteion, mostly to enlist Maytera Marble’s help in airing this place out. I got some important news there, by the way, which I’ll give you in a moment.”

“That’s right.” Saba snapped her fingers. “You holy men are supposed to be able to find out the gods’ will by looking at sheep guts, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Some of us are better at it than others, of course, and no one’s ever suggested that I’m much better than average. Don’t you have augurs in Trivigaunte?”

“No cut!” Oreb required reassurance.

“Not you, silly bird. Positively not.” Silk smiled again. “I got him as a victim, you see; and though I’ve ruled that out, he’s afraid I’ll change my mind. What I wanted to tell you is that I went into the manse to see if I’d left my beads there Phaesday night. I should have said earlier that he’d flown off when I got out of my litter.

“Well, I went into the kitchen because I empty my pockets on the kitchen table sometimes, and there he was on the larder. ‘Bird home,’ he told me, and seemed quite content; but he rode out on my shoulder when I left.”

“He sounds like a good trooper,” Saba leaned back in her ivory-inlaid armchair. “You have so many male troopers here. I’m still getting used to them, though most fight well enough. I have news for you, too, Calde, when you’ve given me yours.”

“In a moment. To tell the truth, I’m afraid you’ll rush off the minute you hear it and I want to ask about augury in Trivigaunte. Besides, Chenille’s making coffee, and she’ll be disappointed if we don’t drink it. She wants to meet you, too — you helped save her; she was one of the hostages at Blood’s.” Seeing that Saba did not understand him, Silk added, “The villa in the country.”

“Oh, there. You were the one we came after, Calde.”

“But you saved Chenille too, and Patera Incus and Master Xiphias — you and Generalissimo Oosik, and several thousand of General Mint’s people, I ought to say.”

Saba nodded. “We were a little part, but we did what we could. Where’s Mint, anyhow?”

“Trying to turn courageous but untrained and undisciplined volunteers into a smoothly running horde, I assume. I’ve tried to do that sort of thing myself on a much smaller scale — with the mothers of the children at our palaestra, for example. I don’t envy her the task.”

“You’ve got to get rough with them, sometimes,” Saba told him, looking as if that were the aspect she enjoyed. “There’s times to be pals, all troopers together. And there’s times when you need the karbaj .”

Silk wisely refrained from asking what the karbaj was. “About augury. From what you said, I take it that it’s not practiced in Trivigaunte? Is that correct?”

Saba inclined her head, the movement barely perceptible. “You try to make the gods like you by cutting up animals. We don’t. I’m not trying to offend you.”

“Not at all, General.”

“I’m a plain-spoken old campaigner, and I don’t pretend to be anything more. Or anything less. A simple old trooper. The way things are here makes me try and act like an ambassador, so I do my best.” She laughed loudly. “But that’s not too good, so I’ll give it to you straight. Your customs seem backwards to me, and I keep waiting for them to turn around. Take her, now.” Saba pointed to Chenille, who had entered with a tray. “Here’s a woman and a man talking, and a woman waiting on them. I’m not saying you never see that at home, but you don’t see it often.”

“But to get back—” Silk accepted a cup. “Thank you, Chenille. You didn’t have to do this, and I’m not sure General Saba realizes that. Goodness and servility look alike at times, though they’re very different. Won’t you sit down?”

“If I won’t bother you.”

“Of course not. We’ll be happy to have your company, and I know you were anxious to meet General Saba. She’s the commander of the Rani’s airship.”

“I know.” Chenille gave Saba an admiring smile.

“She was one of your rescuers. Generalissimo Oosik told me afterward that he’d be delighted to see the kind of efficiency her pterotroopers displayed in a brigade of our Guard.”

“They’re picked women, every one of them,” Saba told Silk complacently. “The competition to get in is fierce. We turn away ten for each we take.”

“I want to get back to augury. If I seem to be harping on it, I hope you’ll excuse me; I was trained as an augur, and I doubt that I’ll ever lose interest in it entirely. But first, would it be possible for me to go up in your airship some time?”

Saba winked at Chenille, her brutal face briefly humorous.

“One of the students — his name is Horn, and he’s acting as a messenger here for the present — told me not long ago that he’d dreamed of flying. So have I, though I didn’t admit it to Horn, or even to myself when I spoke with him.”

“Bird fly!” Oreb proclaimed.

“Exactly. We can scarcely look up without seeing a bird; and there are fliers every few days, proving it can be done. When I was a boy, I used to imagine they were shouting, “We can fly and you can’t!” up there too high to be heard. I knew it was foolish, but the feeling has never left me entirely.”

“Wing good.” Hopping onto Silk’s head, Oreb displayed it.

“He couldn’t fly for a while,” Silk explained. “Before that I doubt that he took much pride in it.”

“I’m going to surprise you, Calde,” Saba announced. “You are welcome to visit my airship anytime. Just let me know when you’re coming so I can get things trooper-like for you.”

“Of course.” Silk sipped from his cup, pausing to admire the delicate porcelain, brave with gilt and holding a painted Scylla as well as coffee.

“If that were wine, I’d tell you I was going to fit you up with wings like my girls”, the teeth of Saba’s underjaw showed in a savage grin, “and shove you out. But sham diplomats don’t get to make that sort of a joke.”

Silk sighed. “I’d thought about it. I’m not at all sure I have the courage, but perhaps I might try.”

“Don’t. You’d be crippled for life if you weren’t killed. My girls start with a platform that would fit in this room. I — who’s that!”

“Who?” Silk glanced at the doors; so did Chenille.

“There was a face in that mirror.” Saba stood up, her cup still in her hand. “Somebody that isn’t in here, somebody I’ve never seen before. I saw her!”

“I’m sure you did, General.” Silk put down his coffee.

“You’ve only just reopened this palace, isn’t that right?”

“Less than an hour ago, actually. Maytera Marble and—”

“A secret passage.” Saba’s tone brooked no contradiction. “The mirror’s a peephole, and somebody’s spying from in there already. One passage at least, and there could be more, I’ve seen some at home. What’s that girl doing?”