The Rat and the Serpent (13 page)

Chapter 7

When I was summoned to appear at the Forum of Tauri I had no idea what the reason might be, though I guessed it was related to my test. The Forum was a vast structure whose frontage occupied one side of Yeniceriler Street, a series of steps leading up to pillared walkways, that gave way to doors made of steel and silver. It was one of the most imposing buildings in the Mavrosopolis.

I presented myself at a reception booth inside, then found the room to which I had been summoned, where I was surprised to find a court not unlike that which had heard my earlier grievance. Karanlik was present, but she had been placed in the accused dock. There was a black-handkerchiefed official sitting in a high chair.

An usher spoke. “Taurian, we gather here to discuss the grievance of a victualler working in premises off Sehzadebazi Street.”

The taurian nodded in reply.

I wanted to query my presence and the position of Karanlik, but I had no chance. The usher continued, “This victualler,” and here he indicated a thin, grey-haired man sitting with a sour face at the side of the room, “accuses the cimmerian of theft, as witnessed by various people in his premises at the time.”

I stared at Karanlik. She shook her head, denying the charge. But there was desperation in her eyes. I looked away, realising that she must be innocent, yet also aware of the process to come. I was afraid of that word ‘witness’. I sank into my seat, as if to hide.

“Bring forward the witnesses,” said the taurian.

There followed the testimonies of three people, the victualler himself and two customers, all of whom saw Karanlik take bread and olives from the baskets. I disbelieved every word, yet when the statements were made I knew they must be true. And Karanlik was a nogoth, not subject to the mores of the citidenizenry, though she seemed honest and true. I felt hopelessness falling over me. I did not want to lose so brave a companion.

The taurian turned to me. “Does the owner have anything to say?”

I sat upright. “Owner?”

The taurian indicated Karanlik. “The cimmerian. She’s yours, isn’t she?”

“I suppose—”

“She is your assistant during your test?”

I nodded.

“Then she’s yours. What do you have to say?”

But I could think of nothing to say.

The taurian turned to Karanlik. “And you?”

“I didn’t do it. I don’t understand what’s going on. I shouldn’t be here.”

The taurian sat upright in his chair to deliver his verdict. “Karanlik, you are banished from the Mavrosopolis. If you’re caught here again you’ll be imprisoned. We don’t allow cimmerian rubbish on our streets. You thought you could get away with theft. Perhaps that’s how it’s done in the slum you live in, but here you cannot act like that. Now sit down and be quiet.”

The taurian turned to face me. I sat in shock, awaiting more.

“As for you,” he said, “you have a simple decision to make. You must reject this cimmerian whelp. I mean forever and in all circumstances. She is not to be trusted. Moreover, if you cannot or will not reject her you will fail your test. If you are to be a citidenizen you must renounce all aspects of nogoth life—their mores, if mores is the correct word, their society, their companionship. Their lives as a whole. There can be no mixing of citidenizen and nogoth. Do you understand?”

I stared at the taurian. Shock made me speechless.

“You will return to this chamber in three night’s time to make your formal statement of renunciation. All present now will be present then. If you do not appear, you will fail the test. Do you have any questions?”

“But...”

The taurian stood. “All to return in three nights. That’s all.”

People began leaving the chamber. The usher took Karanlik by the arm and led her to a door. I followed, closing the door behind me then hobbling down the empty corridor to approach the usher. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

“What d’you mean?”

Karanlik cried out, “Ügliy, I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Did you steal?” I asked her.

“No! Of course not.”

I faced the usher. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“She’s accused of theft.”

“But she says she didn’t do it,” I said.

The usher nodded. “I know that. She didn’t do it. It’s all fixed, you see. We need to clear the Mavrosopolis of a lot of nogoths.”

I took a pace back. “Fixed? You mean, it’s all fixed? I don’t have to renounce her?”

“What are you talking about?” the usher retorted. “Didn’t you hear what the taurian said? What sort of citidenizen would consider even for a moment the possibility of not renouncing a shameless cimmerian?”

“But she’s innocent.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

I found myself speechless once again.

The usher clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’ve only got three days to sort yourself out—otherwise you’ll fail the test.” He looked down at my crutch and added, “Mind you...”

“But how can I renounce an innocent?”

The usher laughed. “Haven’t you learned anything? This isn’t to do with beggars, this is for the Mavrosopolis. If you become a part of the Mavrosopolis you get rid of the nogoth in you—everything. That includes cimmerian parasites. It’s all part of the test.” He shrugged, glancing again at my crutch. “Take it or leave it.”

“But that’s not justice.”

The usher sneered. “What do you know about justice?” And he walked off, with Karanlik at his side.

“Wait,” I shouted, “what will happen to her?”

“She’ll be detained. You can visit her once only. I wouldn’t bother, it might prejudice your test.”

I was left alone in the corridor. It had all happened so fast I wondered if it was a dream. But I did not wake up.

The next night I spent hunched in my doorway on Blackguards’ Passage. I had never felt so alone. Though I had not known Karanlik long, her generosity and courage had spoken to me in a way no other person’s had. And now she was to be ripped from me. I could not believe that. I would not. Nogoths had finer feelings because they were human—despite the fact that they lived on the fringes of the Mavrosopolis—and those feelings had to be taken into account.

Yet the more I learned of the Mavrosopolis and its citidenizens the more I realised that it was a fractured thing, an exclusive circle; almost a cult. I knew with a certainty that came from deep inside my heart that such exclusivity was wrong. But who was I to do anything about it? Here I was, taking the test, changing myself to fit in with the sometimes brutal mores of the citidenizenry, going against my better nature for the sake of better food. For that was how it seemed to me. Again I recalled the desolation I had suffered when Zveratu first spoke to me. I was still that Ügliy, desperate to leave the street. But I was the same Ügliy who had admired the cimmerian climbing the tower wall, who had rolled with her underneath feather baffles, who had hoped for and received all the support necessary for taking the test.

The test. That was the problem. Should I be taking the test?

It occurred to me then that the cimmerians allocated by Musseler in the Tower of the Dessicators might themselves be part of the test, faking pleasure in helping, lying where necessary, acting a part designed by the Mavrosopolis to see if any of its underclass were worthy of ascension. A chill fell over me. I had taken Karanlik to my side with alacrity; she had seemed genuine, even attractive. But was she a tool of the citidenizens, given lines to say and deeds to do for the sake of the test?

I could not bear that thought; sincerity was everything to me. I had to find out the truth. So it was that I decided to make use of my single visit.

I arrived at the Forum of Tauri on the following night. I was led into a tiny room, no wider than my outstretched arms, perhaps twice my height from end to end. In this bare room Karanlik sat alone, her tear-streaked face paler than I had ever seen it. A single lantern lit us both.

I sat at her side and we hugged without words for some time. I recalled our pleasure beneath the feather baffles: I knew not what might be in her mind. She sobbed upon my shoulder, and because of that I knew she was not an actor, not part of the test, except by accident. She had been taken by citidenizens. She had been lied to. And that was unjust.

Gently I pushed her away from my shoulder, so that we could speak. “How were you told about helping me?” I asked.

Through gulping sobs she replied, “We were told by Musseler—”

“We?”

“Me and a dozen other cimmerians. We were asked to help some fellow nogoths by being their assistants. We were offered food and drink in return. We were told to give ourselves fully—that there might be further rewards if we were good. We thought we were the lucky ones.”

“But you did help me out of the goodness of your heart,” I said.

“Of course!”

“And you didn’t know this was going to happen?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t steal anything.”

“I know. That’s the madness of it. They fixed you up just so they could rid the Mavrosopolis of a few nogoths and test my reactions.”

“I don’t know why they don’t just throw us back.”

“Because that’s not how it is done when you are a citidenizen,” I said, as bitterness hardened my voice. “There are rules to follow. But those rules are fakes, and everything is done for the sake of appearance.” I looked down at my withered leg. “Appearances. That is what this is all about. I am being moulded to fit in with what the Mavrosopolis thinks I should be.” I laughed. “I’m beginning to think I might have more freedom now than what I would have if I became a citidenizen.”

“No. You must go on. Don’t mind me. You’ll forget about me.”

I felt hot tears trickling down my face. “Not after the goodness I’ve seen in you,” I assured her. I hugged her close. “Us nogoths should stick together,” I continued. “We know what real life is, though we hardly ever show it. This is real life, Karanlik, you and me. I was stupid to think I could become a citidenizen.”

“You must go on, Ügliy.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can. Not now. It’s too hard and I am not tough enough.” I sighed. “Hard as nails, so the phrase goes. I can’t be like that.”

“You must be hard to have survived nogoth life for so long.”

“That’s a different thing,” I said.

“Is it?”

I nodded. “Nogoths are tough because they have to be. It is a very different thing deliberately
choosing
to be tough.”

“Then why is it that citidenizens despise us, if they do bad things deliberately and we do it because we have no choice?”

“Because they have accepted the Mavrosopolis and everything it stands for. If you accept outer appearance and ignore what is inside, well... you can fix accusations on innocent cimmerians, for example.”

There was a rap on the door. “Our time is up,” Karanlik said.

“Yes. But I’ll see you again.”

“At the taurian’s chamber?”

I nodded. Drying my eyes with my sleeve, I kissed her, stroked her hair, then departed.

I walked back to Blackguards’ Passage with a hundred thoughts whirling around my mind. I realised that I would have to tell people what I was thinking. I needed to hear other opinions. Zveratu was unreachable; that left Raknia. I decided to ignore Musseler and the rest. So I walked, not without anxiety, to the tower in Gulhane Gardens.

Raknia was home. Inside her room, I raised my hand and looked away when she sidled up to me carrying goblets of liquor. “I’m here to talk and nothing else,” I said, making my voice as harsh as possible.

She frowned, disconcerted by my manner, but she put the goblets down and sat beside me on the couch. “What about?” she asked.

“About what I should do next.”

“The hauntings? I thought you said they were over—”

“No, no,” I interrupted, “let me finish. I mean about me, about the test. Things have changed.”

She leaned closer. “Are you on the third part?”

“Yes. You too?”

She leaned back, her eyes dreamy. “I’m not taking the test.”

“But... I thought you were. I thought we were going into the citidenizenry together.”

“Not now. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t—in fact, you have to.”

I was confused. “You’ve done an about turn. Not so long ago you were persuading me to give up and be like you.”

“That was then.”

“What has changed?”

There was a hint of anger in her glance. “Let’s talk about you.”

Realising that something was amiss I looked away, reaching out to take one of the goblets. Raki, of course. I took a sip, then said, “I’ve decided to fail the third part of the test.”

She sat up, grabbing my shoulder so that she could force me to face her. “What?” she gasped. “No—”

“Yes—”

“
No,
Ügliy, you must take the test, I won’t have it any other way.”

I downed in one the raki remaining in my goblet. She replaced it with hers. I continued, “I’d have to renounce Karanlik and everything nogoth. I just can’t do it.”

“Karanlik? That whore?”

I stared at her. The spectre had branded Karanlik a whore. “Don’t call her that,” I retorted. “She may be a cimmerian but she’s not a whore.”

“What do you mean, you can’t renounce her? Why not? You can’t fail the test just because of her.”

“Can’t I?”

She took both my shoulders and pulled me nearer. “No, you can’t! You’re letting a cimmerian stop you from becoming everything you wanted to be.”

“B—”

“Everything you
should
be. Don’t you see she was allocated to you so that they could take her away after you’d begun to be friends? That’s the whole point.”

“I—”

“That’s the
point
of taking the test. You’re moving from nogoth to citidenizen, with responsibilities and pleasures to match. Can’t you see she’s just an obstacle they put there for you to get over?”

“W—”

“Get over her!”

I sat back. The raki was making my head spin. “That’s cruel.”

“What do you want, Ügliy? To eat shit off the streets again? To be beaten by nogoths like Atavalens? You’re telling me that’s what you want.”