"Whistler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Roger)

Chapter 6

Privv was a Sheeter. He liked being a Sheeter – but then, he would. He had always been a worm. Admittedly, a worm with some skill in the handling of words, but a worm nonetheless: most at home when wriggling through the mouldering outer reaches of society or exposing to the light the darker labyrinths of human nature. Not that he considered himself to be so meanly inclined; he could justify his chosen profession, as he called it when he was feeling dignified, with the best of them.

‘It’s only the likes of us that guarantee our ancient freedom. People are entitled to know what the Heinders are doing in their name. And the Chapter Members of the church, with their secret meetings. And the great merchants. And the Guild Masters.’

And anyone else who exhibited any remotely human frailty that might serve as food for the indiscriminate and ever-greedy god of gossip that Privv so assiduously served.

It did not help that there was a great deal of truth in what he said, of course. More than a few states in Gyronlandt suffered under the heels of autocracies of one form or another, and the first two acts of such governments on coming to power were invariably to disarm their loyal subjects and then ban all the Sheets to ensure that as little as possible about what was really happening would become public knowledge.

Sheeters were a resolute bastion against such eventualities.

Sometimes.

They were also a deep pain.

Often.

Privv scowled and scratched himself unceremoniously. He swung his feet down from his desk and walked over to the window again. Not by any definition a sensitive man, he nonetheless enjoyed the view he had from this particular room. To the north stood the dominating bulk of the Ervrin Mallos, halfway up which could be seen, on a clear day, the Witness House. To the east, visible in almost any weather save the grimmest, stood the elegant spires of the PlasHein, home of the Heindral.

Most fitting, he would think in his more sanctimonious moments, that he should have the two great institutions of the state constantly within his view. It was not without symbolic significance. It was where they both belonged. It was the way things should be. Who better to guard the guardians than himself?

But he was in no such philosophical mood now and his eyes were narrowed and fretful as he gazed out at the distant shape of the Witness House. His thumb came to his mouth and he began chewing the nail vigorously.

‘You’ll be growling when that’s all inflamed again.’

The voice was unusual. It was female, high-pitched, hectoring and generally unpleasant. It also existed only in Privv’s mind. Not that he imagined it – it was real enough. It belonged to Leck. Privv referred to Leck as his companion, even his partner. Everyone else referred to her as his cat.

‘Shut up,’ Privv replied irritably. ‘I’m trying to think.’

A disdainful hiss, quite clear in its meaning, filled his head, but as there was no specific reply to which he could respond, Privv contented himself with a silent, lip-curling sneer. Most people grow out of their sneers as they reach adulthood but, as was usually the way with Sheeters, Privv had not managed this, and thus one of youth’s more regrettable traits had become an adult characteristic. It pervaded most of his thinking. True, it was usually only in the privacy of his own home, as now, that he actually allowed it to show on his face. Though, that said, had he thought about it at all, he would probably have considered it to be a thoroughly wholesome and worthwhile inner quality. He had never been able to differentiate between scepticism and cynicism.

How Privv and Leck came to communicate with one another as they did is not known. Neither could communicate with anyone else in this manner and, as far as they knew, neither came from parents who had the same ability. It was just one of those things. Not that it was unique in Canol Madreth, or for that matter in Gyronlandt as a whole, but it was rare. And it still carried with it faintly dubious overtones from the Court of the Provers. To the Judges of the Proving, the ability to communicate with an animal in such a way was, beyond any dispute, the mark of an individual who had had dealings with the Great Destroyer, Ahmral. Indeed, more than that, such an individual might well be possessed by one of His demons, and could therefore look to be lingeringly destroyed for the greater good of the church and, of course, his own soul. Now, in these more enlightened times, the residue of the fear that had brought about such horror showed itself merely in an unspoken but general acceptance that this particular ability was not really attractive in polite society.

Not that Privv cared overly about what was socially desirable or not. It was sufficient for him that he kept silent about his gift and knew how to make the necessary noises to move freely in whatever level of Madren society he found himself. His only real concern was for the accumulation of wealth, followed, a little inconsistently in the light of his chosen profession and his inner disdain for society, by a desire to be both famous and respected. He also enjoyed manipulating people and events – though this was as much a hobby, and tool of his trade, as an ambition. Certainly he had no desire whatsoever to volunteer for the constraints offered to the traditional ways of achieving power, namely through the Heindral or the church. As a Sheeter, he was, of course, unfettered, the Sheeting profession being comparatively new to Canol Madreth.

Leck seemed to be very similar in character to Privv, though who could say what ambitions a cat might harbour? She was a true predator however – she really enjoyed power, enjoyed it enormously, and as an end in itself. An ordinary, innocuous-looking cat, predominantly white but with various brindled markings scattered indiscriminately about her, she affected a loving disposition, invariably fawning around the legs of anyone who might prove useful, and, of course, purely for pleasure, about the legs of those visitors to Privv’s house who particularly did not like cats. She also demonstrated the same general lack of civilized traits – ethics, morality, etc – that characterized Privv. Unlike the Sheeter, though, she did have at least some vestige of an intellectual justification for her disposition, in that she was not human. Indeed, she was inordinately proud of that fact and she had a line in scorn about humanity that could set even Privv’s teeth on edge when she chose to use it.

An unlovely couple in almost every way, they tended each other’s needs, or rather, served each other’s ends with a generally ill grace and little or no affection. Yet they were bound together by ties far deeper than either of them could reach. Ties of which they were scarcely aware, save that they were there and were perhaps unbreakable. Ties that came with their strange shared gift.

‘And pray, when you’ve finished eating your hand, do tell me what object is being given the benefit of your great intellect now,’ Leck went on, jumping up on to the windowsill and following his gaze. ‘Shouldn’t you be finishing that piece on the market officials?’

‘No rush for that,’ Privv yawned. ‘Besides, it’ll do them no harm to sweat a little. With a bit of luck they might even try to bribe me, then we’ll have an even better story.’

‘True,’ Leck conceded. ‘Unless, of course, it’s a really worthwhile bribe.’

Privv chuckled. ‘Well, one has to use one’s professional judgement in such matters, hasn’t one? There are always long-term implications in such matters.’

‘You don’t normally bother about them where money’s concerned,’ Leck retorted, stretching herself luxuriously.

Privv shook his head in denial. ‘As a puppeteer, I’m always looking out for strings, particularly when they might be fastened to me.’

Leck feigned indifference for a moment, then leaned against him and began to wheedle. ‘What’s going on, Privv? I smell… interesting events. Really interesting. You’ve been quiet all day, and you keep looking out at the hill. I see the Witness House is quite clear today. Not thinking of joining the church, are you? Not suffering from religious doubts brought on by the passage of the great cloud?’

Privv ignored the sarcasm. It was time to get Leck involved anyway. She could start ferreting for some more information about this business. He made no preamble.

‘Something’s up,’ he said, nodding towards the Ervrin Mallos, ‘at the Witness House. Something’s happened – something spectacular. And they’re trying to keep it quiet.’

‘Ah,’ Leck purred, her interest engaged immediately. ‘Scandal amongst the clerics, eh? Excellent! We haven’t had one of those for quite a time. What is it? Adultery, pederasty, or coin?’

Privv shook his head. ‘I don’t know. But my every nerve tells me they’re up to something.’

‘Tell, tell.’

Privv returned to his chair. Pushing it on to its back legs, he swung a foot up on to his desk, rattling a plate on which was spread the congealed remains of a half-eaten meal. He began rocking himself backwards and forwards and chewing his thumb again.

‘I met my religious adviser last night,’ he began.

‘The church’s privy cleaner?’ Leck inquired.

‘The Witness House Maintenance Superintendent,’ Privv corrected.

‘The privy cleaner,’ Leck confirmed. ‘I know him… by sight and by smell. One of your occasional creatures.’

‘An old friend and one of my respected personal couriers with a continuing interest in the propagation of the truth,’ Privv retorted.

Leck sneered. ‘A paid gossip, you mean. And whoever heard of a Sheeter with friends?’

‘Do you want to hear about this or not?’ Privv said irritably.

‘You’ll tell me anyway,’ Leck retorted, ‘as soon as you want something done. Suit yourself when – now or later. I’m not that interested.’ She turned to peer out of the window again.

Privv mouthed an oath at the back of her head. ‘I met my man last night.’

‘You’ve just told me that.’

Privv opted for iciness and, with an effort, managed to avoid repeating his opening statement. ‘He says there was some big row at the Chapter meeting yesterday.’

Exaggerated shock filled his mind. ‘Not another change in cassock design? Not ructions over the prayer-sheet printing contracts?’

‘Will you listen?’ Privv snapped irritably.

There was a long pause.

‘Well, go on,’ Leck prompted.

Privv swung his other foot on to the desk and spat out part of his thumbnail. ‘My man says that one of the Chapter Members crashed out of the meeting and went dashing off up the mountain. Right up into the thick of that cloud.’

‘More cloud madness, eh?’ Leck’s tone was only slightly caustic. A great many strange occurrences had come in the wake of the passing of the black cloud, and the Sheeters were suffering a surfeit of wild tales which, with their usual talent for imagination, they had categorized under the collective name of ‘cloud madness’.

Privv shook his head. ‘A little more serious, I think,’ he said, ‘because about half a dozen of the other Chapter Members – Chapter Members, no less – went lumbering up after him, while Mueran and the others made fairly strenuous efforts to fob off any inquiries by the servants and novices.’

Leck turned and looked at Privv. He smiled at the curiosity he could feel seeping through to him, and remained silent until she eventually demanded, ‘And?’

‘And they came back down again.’

Leck jumped down from the sill. With a single bound she was on his lap. Her claws dug into his legs and she mewed close to his face, her mouth gaping wide showing all her teeth – vicious, white and sharp.

‘All right, don’t lose your temper,’ Privv said tetchily.

‘Just tell me what happened.’

Privv became openly excited. ‘My man’s fairly certain that it was Cassraw. He was given the name by two novices before Mueran got to them. Apparently, Cassraw came out of the Witness House so fast he nearly sent them both flying. And he was staring up at the clouds and raving about something, although they couldn’t hear what.’

‘Cassraw, eh?’ Leck mused, intrigued. ‘The ambitious one. The one who got the Haven Parish amid a great deal of clamour. The youngest ever, and who’s had most of his flock up in arms this last couple of months with his stiff-necked preaching about obedience to the words of the Santyth. Do you think he’s cracked under the strain?’ She purred with relish. ‘This’ll put the fox amongst the hens. Come on – tell me the rest.’

‘The rest is vague, unfortunately,’ Privv said, looking pained. ‘But it’s just as interesting. Apparently, they all came back safely, Cassraw and the others, and shortly afterwards Mueran told all the servants that they couldn’t go into town last night – in case the storm returned and they were needed, he said.’

‘And your man?’ Leck asked.

Privv shrugged. ‘He’s an institution. He nods and acts daft, then he goes his own way. Besides, they’re not going to dismiss their poor simple privy cleaner for doing what he’s done every night of his life, are they?’

Leck cooled a little at this reminder. ‘How drunk was he when you spoke to him?’ she asked.

‘Not at all,’ Privv replied unconvincingly, just catching the faint, ‘And how drunk were you?’ on the fringes of the cat’s mind. ‘And there’s more,’ he said, ignoring the inference.

Leck waited.

‘He swears that as he was passing the Haven Meeting House he saw Cassraw’s wife getting into a church carriage.’

‘Really?’ Leck purred, interest well alight now. ‘Maybe it is adultery, after all. Maybe she’s spreading her… favours… around to further Cassraw’s ambition.’

Privv frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said irritably. ‘This has got all the signs of something really worthwhile. A church carriage taking a woman up to the Witness House. Servants not allowed out.’

‘Yes, yes. Something to hide. Something to hide,’ Leck chanted. ‘Where shall we begin?’

Privv thought for a moment. ‘We can see if Dowinne Cassrawen is at the Haven Meeting House where she’s supposed to be, and if she isn’t, then I think straightforward naivety will be our best approach. We can take the trap up to the Witness House. Knock on the door. Bit of talk about some of the things that happened while that cloud was overhead, then ask whether they noticed anything unusual themselves, being so much closer to it than the rest of us.’

‘And I’ll sneak in round the back. Find out what’sreally happening.’

Morem opened the door cautiously. He had been walking pensively across the entrance hall when a vigorous tattoo had startled him and drawn him to the door regardless of the servants’ protocol that it was not the task of Chapter Members to be doing such things. Privv’s bulky form filled the tentative space that Morem allowed. He was standing very close to the door and Morem started back a little, momentarily alarmed. However, a pleasant and open disposition protected him from almost everything and, recovering, he bounced Privv’s unctuous smile back to him with a welcoming one of his own. Gentle and pleasant though he was, Morem was not a foolish man, and at Privv’s announcement that he was a Sheeter, his face clouded a little and he instinctively began to close the door. Privv remembered where he was just in time and managed to refrain from jamming his foot in the shrinking gap.

Instead he made his smile even broader and launched into his opening remarks before Morem could decide what to do.

Morem just about caught the gist of it. ‘The black cloud… a lot of strange things last night… people having vivid dreams… hearing voices, singing, calling out… strange noises… things moving about. The Sheets have been full of it this morning, so I thought…’

‘Could you wait a moment?’ Morem managed to interject. ‘I think perhaps you need to talk to someone else.’ And, with uncharacteristic alacrity, he closed the door in Privv’s face and scurried off across the entrance hall.

‘I’m in.’

Privv nodded as Leck’s voice floated into his mind, then he turned around to gaze idly out over the valley, though he saw none of it. He began whistling tunelessly to himself and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Who would they send to deal with him? he wondered. They wouldn’t send old Morem back, surely – that would be too easy. Perhaps it would be Mueran – nowthat would be revealing. Or perhaps they would send a servant to tell him they had nothing to say. That would be the most likely. He practised his disappointed look briefly, with a view to engaging the servant’s sympathy and starting a conversation. One mustn’t let any opportunity pass by. He had his one contact, but the Witness House servants generally were a stern, self-righteous lot, with a quite inflated sense of the worth of their position and difficult to approach in the ordinary way of things. Still, servants were servants after all – paid retainers. A price could always be found eventually. It just needed a careful ear and a little imagination.

The door opened quite suddenly, startling him out of his reverie. He turned and found himself looking up at a familiar face. Any hopes of easy progress faded.

‘Well, well. Privv, my favourite Sheeter. How nice to see you again,’ Horld said, his voice and demeanour brutally contradicting his words.

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.