Babylon Steel (50 page)

After that I was glad to be busy. I spent a day apologising and rearranging, and had a potentially embarrassing encounter with a quiet young woman I thought was a new client, who actually turned out to be an accountant that Lord Antheran had sent over to help us out. When I showed her the account book and accompanying wodge of paper that acted as my filing system, she looked positively cheerful. Guess some people like a challenge.

I had just seen her settled in with ink, tea and a glint in her eye, when the bell rang.

It was young Roflet, looking fairly grim.

“Madam Steel? I’ve been asked to fetch you.”

There was a cold hollow in my chest. “Is it the Chief? Is he all right?”

“The Chief?” Roflet blinked. “No, ma’am. He’s fine.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at the moment,” he said. “You’ve been requested to accompany the Chief on a visit to the Temple of the Vessels.”

“You... huh? They’ve
asked
for me? What for?”

“It’s to do with Denarven. We had to hand him over to them.”

“
What?”
I said.

“Diplomatic Section. They insisted.”

“Oh, for... so what did they do? Slap his wrist and send him off-plane to start killing women somewhere else?”

“Apparently not. He’s still there. They want you to see him.”

I didn’t want to see him. But I did want to see the Chief; I’d wanted to see him ever since I got back.

I wasn’t ready for it. As soon as I walked into that courtyard with its heavily draped statues I remembered Previous. I saw her leaning against the balustrade in the sun, grinning, her helmet at an angle. I felt such a rush of grief into my throat I had to stop for a moment.

“You all right, Ma’am?” Roflet said.

“Yeah. I’ll do. Give me a minute, all right?”

He did. Then an administrator, maskless and grey-gowned as Denarven had been, appeared and gestured for us to follow.

He led us into a chilly little room and left. There, back to his human state, but looking so grim he might as well have been one of the courtyard statues, was Chief Bitternut. In the wall next to his head was a grille, shut. Roflet nodded to the Chief and left.

“So,” Bitternut said. “Glad to see you’re back in one piece.”

“Pretty much,” I said.

“Know why we’re here?”

“Only what Officer Roflet told me. They’ve got Denarven here.”

“Yes. They seem to think this is going to be some sort of recompense for not having to hand him over to us.” He sighed. “Hope they hurry up. It was considered good politics to come, but frankly I’d be happy never to see that crazed little twistfart again.”

“Yeah, Chief, about that...”

He gave me a glare. “Don’t,” he said, and then, the door opened.

It was the Mouthpiece, and the High Priest.

The Chief and I looked at each other.

The High Priest drummed his fingers on the Mouthpiece’s hand.

“The High Priest thanks you for attending,” the Mouthpiece said. “It is hoped that once you have seen what we have to show you, you will be assured that the unfortunate one has been placed in the best circumstances for true communion with the Purest, to cleanse his soul and lead him to righteousness.”

“True communion with the Purest?” the Chief said. You could have etched steel with the acid in his voice.

“Now he will have a life with no distractions from contemplation of the glory,” the Mouthpiece said.

He reached out, and opened the grille.

The room beyond was brightly lit, but that would make no difference to the mewling, naked thing that was in it.

It had no eyes. Its wailing, open mouth was tongueless. It had no ears; the place where they had been was sealed over. It had neither hands nor feet nor genitals.

The wounds were cleanly healed, surgically neat.

I’ve seen war. I’ve seen terrible things, and done more than a few. I’ve seen guts spill over my boots.

I’ve never done what I did then, which was stumble out past the Mouthpiece, pushing him out of the way, lean one hand on the wall, and throw up into the clean-swept courtyard.

I wiped my mouth, and felt a hand on my shoulder.

The Chief.

He said, “They tell me...” He coughed, hard. “They tell me he’ll be fed, and kept clean.”

The Priest and his Mouthpiece had emerged behind us. “He will live a life of perfect contemplation, and die the purer,” the Mouthpiece said. “Many might envy him.”

“Right,” I said.

“Do you feel he has been adequately dealt with?” the Mouthpiece said.

“He’s been dealt with,” I said.

“You feel justice has been served?”

“Something has,” the Chief said.

“But you are satisfied.”

The Chief looked at me.

“
This
has been dealt with,” I said. “Chief?”

“Yeah.
This
is over. You’re still citizens of Scalentine. That comes with responsibilities. Don’t forget ’em again.”

And he took my arm and we walked out of the precinct.

I could feel the tension in him, as he told Roflet, who was waiting at the gate, to go back to the precinct. “Walk you home,” he said.

“Thanks.”

We walked in silence for some time. Then Bitternut said, “I wanted him dead. I remember... I don’t always remember things so well, from Change. But I really wanted him dead.”

“So did I,” I said. “I think... it would have been cleaner. Dear holy hells. Isn’t it
illegal,
what they did to him
?
”

“Tricky. According to their religion, they’re doing this to helphim. To improve his chances of redemption. I’ll ask, but I think may fall under the Cultural Practice exceptions. Which I’d see burned, if I could, but I don’t make the laws.”

Something had made Denarven into a killer.
Could
the Vessels have saved him? Could anything? He’d have nothing, now, except the darkness of his own mind. I didn’t know what to feel, except a kind of exhausted sickness.

When we got to the Lantern, the Chief walked past me into the blue room. I found him staring down at the chess board, which hadn’t been touched since halfway through our last game.

“You’re going to lose,” he said
.
A stray lock of hair fell over his eyes, and my fingers twitched to brush it back.

“Probably. So, you want to sit down?” I said.

“Right.” He moved away from the board, sank his long limbs into the sofa, and tugged at his fingers, making the joints pop.

“Been a long day,” I said. “Beer?”

“Ah, you’re a goddess, Babylon,” he said, attempting a smile.

“Not anymore,” I muttered. “Thank the All.”

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.” I poured beer, and wine for myself, and sat down next to him. “I’ll tell you, one day. When you’ve got time, and I can face it. I lost a friend. Previous. She got... she died.”

“I’m sorry. She was a good sort.”

“She was.”

He nodded, looking into his beer, which gave me a chance to get control of myself.

Then he said, “You saved me, you know. If I’d killed him...”

“Oh, balls, Chief. You saved
me
, remember?”

“I mean it, Babylon. If I’d killed him, it would have been over for me. And you stopped it, so I just needed to say, thank you.”

“There’s no need. But you’re welcome. Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Forgiven?”

“You were angry with me. You had every right.”

“Oh! Well. Yes, I was.” He stretched his legs out, not looking at me. “Worry about you.”

“Oh, is
that
why you... right. Yeah, I do sometimes too. But, you know. You have to do the best you can.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t get killed,” he said.

“Well I’d prefer you didn’t, too.”

“Glinchen turned up,” he said. “Told me about finding the girl.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. A bit after the fact, but, you know. So, thanks.”

“Stop thanking me, it’s making me nervous.”

He half-smiled. “What happened to your arm?” he said.

“Broken wrist.”

“Ouch. Hurt much?”

“A bit. Laney says it’ll take another moon at least to heal.”

“No fighting for a while, then.”

“Nope.”

“So... You heard anything that’s going to make my life more difficult?” he said.

“Hardly, I’ve barely got back.”

“Oh, of course. Right.”

“Right. Chief?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey. Hargur.” I don’t use his first name much. He looked at me, surprised. “Doesn’t have to be a business transaction,” I said. “In fact, I’d rather it wasn’t one.”

“What?”

I leaned over and kissed him, just lightly, in case I was wrong.

Turned out I wasn’t.

I led him upstairs, trying to ignore Laney’s grin and Essie making a thumbs-up gesture. Bitternut caught it, though, and snorted. It was good to hear him laugh. Good to get him into my room, good to finally get him out of his battered clothes and start to get properly acquainted with the long, lean body under them. There was a little musk of the Change still on him, and a little wild still in him. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, part of the fun.

I kissed him, lightly at first, though it took effort, then he pulled me tight against him. Skin to skin, and lips to lips. I felt greedy, starved, wanting all of him at once. Wanting something good and clean and right. No art to it, just desire.

We tumbled backwards onto the bed, still kissing. I tangled my fingers in his long hair, so he couldn’t escape. He lifted my breasts, licking and kissing until I was half crazed, and I slid my hand down, feeling him already up and eager. Hands everywhere, clumsy, but good. Hurt my wrist, didn’t care.

He had enough sense left to pause, breathing hard, and say, “I need... do you have...” I grinned at him and reached into the cupboard beside the bed.

He had a lovely cock, smooth and clean and silky-skinned. Next time, I would take my time dressing it; this time, we were both too greedy, too hasty. On with the preventative, and in. When he slid inside me, he fitted me as though we’d been designed for each other, and neither of us could wait. We ran for the finish together, arrived panting and growling.

“Well,” he said, when he got his breath back.

“
Very
well,” I said.

He laughed. Then he leaned up on one elbow and looked at me, and began to run his fingers over my scars, gently, as though he could soothe the wounds that had made them. “Lot of fights.”

“You too,” I said, tracing one of his in turn, a long pale line that twisted up under his arm.

“You going to tell me about them?” he said.

“Only the good ones,” I said. “You know. Where I swung off chandeliers and stuff. And won, obviously.”

“All right, then.” He kissed me again, and this time, we took our time.

T
HERE WAS A
discreet knock on the door, and I pulled on a robe and got up, leaving Hargur fast asleep.

“What is it?”

“Message for you,” Jivrais said. “The boy’s waiting for an answer.”

I went downstairs, to find a messenger boy, neat and courteous, with a sealed paper. I opened it.
Darask Fain requests the pleasure of your company at lunch, tomorrow, at one o’clock, at the Bronze Bell.

“Tell him ‘yes,’” I said. I wanted a word with Fain. Then I went back upstairs. I was taking the rest of the night for myself. Boss’s privilege.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Day 14

First Day after Twomoon

T
HE
B
RONZE
B
ELL
turned out to be one of those exquisitely discreet little places; not a place to be seen, like the Lodestone, but somewhere to be invisible.

Fain was already there when I arrived, a courtesy I appreciated. If I’m kept waiting too long, I tend to get annoyed, and flirt with waiters. “Madam Steel,” he said.

“Mr Fain.” He looked as good as ever, though his trait seemed to be in abeyance. Of course, Twomoon was over. Still, I’d something with me, in case he tried it on; a little portable dose of an anti-lust potion Laney had given me, but I didn’t appear to need it. At least, not yet.

He poured me a glass of wine. “I hear you’ve been travelling.”

“Yes.”

“Your business was concluded successfully?”

“I hope so. We’ll have to wait and see.” I paused. “I lost a friend.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

After we ordered our food, I said, “Tell me about Enthemmerlee.”

“The last I heard, she was well. Her transformation was successful. Whether it will have the effect she hoped for...” he shrugged.

“So how did her family take it?”

“Shock, fury, accusations of treachery; half the ruling class want her banished to Scalentine, most of the rest want her executed. Half the Ikinchli now think she’s a goddess, and the other half think she’s a fraud. Her family are about to enter a vicious and probably generations-long feud with the one she was planned to marry into. As I said, volatile.”

“The All protect her, then. Poor child.”

“Someone needs to. It would help to have someone she trusts there, but they would also need to be someone who can move easily between the different communities, who is without known ties to any one faction, who makes friends easily and can deal with those who are less than friendly.”

“That’s a lot to ask of a bodyguard.”

“Oh, they’d need to be more than that. It’s not just her who needs protection, but the entire population of Incandress.” He looked, suddenly, very tired. “Incandress could be a great country, a civilisation for all its people, but it’s in danger of degenerating into pointless bloodshed.”

“People often don’t see what’s under their noses,” I said. There was a pause, while he looked at me until I began to wonder whether I had a smudge on my face or something. “At the risk of sounding brusque, Mr Fain, why
did
you invite me to lunch?”

“You don’t think I might do so just for the pleasure of your company?”

“Let’s say it would surprise me if that were your only reason.”

He gave that slantwise smile and put his knife and fork neatly together. “Your encounter with Enthemmerlee has left her, and the revolutionary faction that supports her, with a great deal of respect for you. The Gudain seem to consider you tried to ‘rescue’ her from her transformation, and are inclined to regard you in a very positive light.”