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TheBeatingofHisWings
ThePublishersofTheBeatingofHisWingsareorderedbytheInternationalCourtofArchaeologicalArtefactstoprintthisjudgmentonthefirstpageof
eachcopy.
ModeratorBreffniWaltz38thofMessidorAD143.830
SummaryofPreliminaryJudgmentdatedRepublicanEra143.710fromtheInternationalCourtofArchaeologicalArtefactsconcerningtheLeftHandofGodtrilogyandadministrationoftheso-called‘RubbishTipsofParadise’.These‘tips’,for
theavoidanceofdoubt,constitutethefoursquaremilescentredonthefirstdiscoverybyPaulFahrenheitoflargeamountsofprintedpaperdatingfromextremeantiquity.MyjudgementispreliminaryandsubjecttoreviewinthefirstinstancebytheCourtofPleas.However,animmediatedecisionisrequiredbecauseoftheclaimbyUNASthatirreplaceabledocumentsandartefactsarebeinglost
forever,citingtheroutineuseofthecontentsoftheRubbishTipsofParadiseastoiletpaperbythenomadictribesthatfrequentlypassthroughthesite.
Thefactsofthiscasearenotindisputeandareasfollows:
Thislitigationhasits
originsinthefirstlandingonthemoonbyCaptainVictoriaUngKhanansomethirtyyearsago.ThatwithindaysCaptain
Khanandiscoveredshehadbeenbeatentothisgreatestofallfirstsbysome165,000yearswasasgreatashock,perhaps,ashaseverbeendeliveredtoWoMankind.Thefragileremnantsofwhatmusthavebeenanevenmorefragilespacecraftrevealedthatithaditsoriginsinavanishedterrestrialcivilizationweknewnothingabout,acivilizationwhichsoonbecameknownastheFlagPeople,afterthestarred
andstripedinsigniaplantednexttothecraft.Asaresult,TheUnifiedNationsArchaeologicalSurveywasfoundedwiththesolepurposeofsearchingforevidenceoftheFlagPeopleonearthitself.
Sofarthissearchhas
provedfruitlessandforonesimplereason:ice.UNASquicklydiscoveredthat164,000yearsagoaperiodofmajorglaciation,nowknownasThe
Snowball,coverednearlytheentireplanetinice,oftentoadepthofseveralmiles.Icethatbringslowvastmountainrangeshaslittleproblemremovingtheveneerofeventhemostcomplexcivilization–clearlyonlythesmallestrumpofthepopulationcouldhavesurvived.Furtherinvestigation,however,revealedalaterandsignificantperiodofwarmingduringTheSnowball,whichforfifteenthousandyears
causedtheicetoretreatfarenoughandlongenoughfornewcivilizationstoemerge,beforetheyinturnwereswallowedupbythereturningice.
Itisatthispointinthis
frustratingstorythatPaulFahrenheitemergedtocriticize,toputitatitsmildest,hiscolleaguesfortheirobsessionwithtechnologicalsolutionstothisgreatproblem.Hepointedoutthattryingtofindsuchwhisperytraces
ofthepastwaslike‘lookingforhayinahaystack’unlesstheyused‘somemechanism’toguidethetechnology.The‘mechanism’likelytoprovemosteffectiveinnarrowingdownthehaystack,heargued,wasthatoflegendandfolkstory.Heclaimedthatrealhistoricaleventsfromthedistantpastcouldbecomeembeddedinwhatwereapparentlyentirelyimaginarystoriesofgodsandmonstersandother
fantasticaltales.HisideasweredismissedoutofhandandtherelationshipbetweenFahrenheitandhiscolleaguesandsuperiorsatUNASbecamewhatcouldonlybecalledvituperative.
Asaresult,inthe
VentoseofRepublicanEra139,PaulFahrenheitleftUNASinpursuitofwhattohiscolleagueswastheverydefinitionofawildgoosechase–insearchofwhattheisolatedHabiru
peoplecalledtheRubbishTipsofParadise.ItwashereMrFahrenheitthoughthemightbeabletofindthefirstterrestrialevidenceifnotoftheFlagPeoplethenofthecivilizationsthatbrieflyfollowed.
FouryearsafterPaul
Fahrenheit’sdisappearancethefirstvolumeofa‘fantasy’fictiontrilogyentitledTheLeftHandofGodwaspublished.Itwaswidely
translatedintosometwenty-sixlanguagesbutitsreceptionbybothaudiencesandcriticswashighlypolarized:itwasgreatlyadmiredbysomebutmuchdislikedbyothersforitspeculiartoneandoddapproachtotheartofstorytelling.Howarethesetwoapparentlyunrelatedeventsconnected?ItturnsoutthatMrFahrenheitwasbehindthepublicationofTheLeftHandofGodandasubsequentvolume,The
LastFourThings.Thesebookswereveryfarfromthecontemporaryworksofescapistfantasytheywerepresentedas.Asithappens,Fahrenheit’sbeliefinthepotentialoftheRubbishTipsofParadisewasentirelyonthemark.Tocutalongandbitterstoryshort,Fahrenheittookitintohisheadnottotellhisformeremployerofhisdiscovery,ashewaslegallyboundtodo.Instead,heclaimedUNASwould,andIquote,
‘smothertheundoubtedbrillianceofwhatIhavecalledtheLeftHandofGodtrilogyinadrearyacademictranslationworkedoverbyanarmyofself-servingpedantswhowouldburyitsvitalityunderalayerofhigh-mindeddullness,footnotesandincomprehensibleandobscurantistanalysis.’
Fahrenheitbecame
obsessedwithhisbeliefthatthemodernworld
shouldconfrontthesethreebooksinsomethingofthewaytheiroriginalaudiencemighthaveconfrontedthem.Asaresult,hetookituponhimselftotranslatethem(aconsiderableintellectualfeatrecognizedevenbyhisdetractors)andhavethempublishedunderhismother’sfamilynameastheabovecontemporaryworksoffiction.Whoknowshowlongthiscurioussubterfugemighthaveworkedwereitnot
forMrFahrenheit’sindiscreetpillowtalkwithayoungwoman,who,itturnedout,wasnotastrustworthyashebelievedandwhopromptlysoldthestorytoanewstablet,whichinturnledtoUNASapplyingtothiscourtforaninjunctionputtingtheRubbishTipsofParadiseundertheirlegalcontrol.
TheUnifiedNations
ArchaeologicalSurveyisgranted,asrequested,completebuttemporary
controloverthesite.
However,itssuittopreventthepublicationofthefinal‘novel’intheLeftHandofGodtrilogy,TheBeatingofHisWings,inatranslationbyPaulFahrenheit,isdenied.PublicationmayproceedundertheconditionthatthesummaryofthisjudgementisprintedatthebeginningofTheBeatingofHisWings.BothUNASandPaulFahrenheitaregivenleavetoaddan
Therearethreefundamentalhumanemotions:fear,rageandlove.J.B.Watson,JournalofExperimental
Psychology
Givemeadozenhealthyinfants,well-formedandmyownspecificworldtobringthemupinandI’llguaranteetotakeanyoneatrandomandtrainhimtobecomeanytypeofspecialistImightselect–adoctor,lawyer,artist,merchant-chiefand,yes,evenintoa
beggar-manandthief,regardlessofhistalents,penchants,tendencies,abilities,vocationsandraceofhisancestors.
J.B.Watson,‘Whatthenurseryhastosayabout
instincts’Psychologiesof1925
Bythetimeyouarefourteenyearsoldtheworstthingthatwilleverhappentoyouwillprobablyhavealreadytakenplace.LouisBris,TheWisdomofCrocodiles
1
AbriefreportonThomasCale,Lunatic.ThreeconversationsatthePrioryontheIslandofCyprus.
(NBThisappraisaltookplaceafterMother
SuperiorAllbright’sstroke.ThenotesshefiledhavebeenmislaidalongwithCale’sadmissiondetails.ThisreportneedstobereadinthelightofthisabsenceandsoIwillnotbeheldliableforanyofmyconclusions.)
PHYSICALCHARACTERISTICSMediumstature,unusuallypale.Middlefingerofhislefthandmissing.Depressionfracturetotherightsideofhisskull.
Severekeloidscartissueinwoundinleftshoulder.Patientsaysheexperiencesintermittentpainfromallinjuries.
SYMPTOMSSevereretching,usuallyinmid-afternoon.Exhaustion.Suffersinsomniaandbaddreamswhenabletosleep.Lossofweight.
HISTORYThomasCalesuffersnohystericaldelusionsor
uncontrolledbehaviourbeyondthatofhissournature.Hismid-afternoonretchingleaveshimspeechlesswithexhaustion,afterwhichhesleeps.Bylateeveningheisabletotalk,althoughheisthemostsarcasticandwoundingofpersons.HeclaimstohavebeenboughtforsixpencefromparentshedoesnotrememberbyapriestoftheOrderoftheHangedRedeemer.ThomasCaleisdroll,nothisleast
irritatingaffectation,andalwaystrieseithertomakehisinterlocutorunsureastowhetherheismockingthemor,byunpleasantcontrast,tomakeitabundantlyclearthatheis.HetellsthestoryofhisupbringingintheSanctuaryasifdaringmetodisbelievethedailycrueltiesheendured.Recoveringfromaninjurywhichcausedthedentinhisheadheclaims–againitisnotpossibletotellwithwhatdegreeof
seriousness–thathisalreadygreatprowess(heseemsboastfulinhindsight,butnotatthetime)wasgreatlyincreasedasaresultoftheinjuryandthatsincethisrecoveryheisalwaysabletoanticipateinadvanceanyopponent’smovements.Thissoundsunlikely;Ideclinedhisofferofademonstration.Therestofhisstoryisasimprobableasthemostfar-fetchedchildren’sstoryofderring-doand
swashbuckling.HeistheworstliarIhaveevercomeacross.
Hisstorybriefly.HislifeofdeprivationandmilitarytrainingattheSanctuarycametoadramaticendonenightafterheaccidentallycameuponahigh-rankingRedeemerinthemiddleofperformingalivedissectionupontwoyounggirls,somekindofholyexperimenttodiscoverameanstoneuterthepowerofwomenover
mankind.KillingthatRedeemerintheensuingstruggle,heescapedfromtheSanctuarywiththesurvivingyoungwomanandtwoofhisfriends,withmoreRedeemersinvengefulpursuit.Evadingtheirpursuers,thequartetendedupinMemphiswhere,plausibly,ThomasCalemademanyenemiesand(ratherlessplausibly)anumberofpowerfulallies,includingthenotoriousIdrisPukkeandhishalf-brother,
ChancellorVipond(ashethenwas).Despitetheseadvantageshisviolentnatureasserteditselfinabrutalbutunusuallynon-fatalaltercationwith(sohesays)halfadozenoftheyouthsofMemphisinwhich(ofcourse)heemergedtriumphantbutboundforprison.Nevertheless,LordVipondagainmysteriouslyintervenedonhisbehalfandhewassentintothecountrysidewithIdrisPukke.The
peaceoftheMaterazzihuntinglodgewheretheywerestayingwasinterruptedshortlyafterhearrivedbyawomanwhoattemptedtoassassinatehim,forreasonshewasunabletoclarify.Hismurderwaspreventednotbyhisownwonderfulabilities–hewasswimmingnakedatthetimeoftheattack–butbyamysterious,unseenandinsolentstrangerwhokilledhiswould-beassassinbymeansofan
arrowintheback.Hissaviourthenvanishedwithoutexplanationortrace.
BynowthepriestsoftheSanctuaryhaddiscoveredhisgeneralwhereaboutsandattemptedtoflushhimout(heclaims)bykidnappingArbellMaterazzi,daughteroftheDogeofMemphis.WhenIaskedhimwhytheRedeemerswouldriskaruinouswarwiththe
greatestofalltemporalpowersforhissake,helaughedinmyfaceandtoldmehewouldrevealhismagnificentimportancetomeinduecourse.Theinflatedmad,inmyexperience,taketheirimportancemostseriouslybutitisafeatureofThomasCalethathisdementedstateonlybecomesapparentafewhoursafteraconversationwithhimcomestoanend.Whileyouareinhiscompanyeventhemost
implausiblestorieshetellscauseyoutosuspenddisbeliefuntilseveralhourslater,whenamostirritatingsensationcreepsoveryou,asifyouhadbeentrickedbyamarketplacequackintopartingwithreadymoneyforabottleofuniversalremedy.I’veseenthisbeforeinalunatic,thoughrarely,inthatsomearesopowerfullydeludedandinsuchastrangewaythattheirdelusionsrunawaywitheventhemost
cautiousofanomists.
Ofcourse,ThomasCalerescuesthebeautifulprincessfromthewickedRedeemersbut,itmustbesaid,notbymeansofthefairandnoblefightagainstoverwhelmingoddsbutbystabbingmostofhisopponentsintheirsleep.Thisisanotherunusualfeatureofhisdelusion–thateachoneofhisendlesstriumphsisnotgenerallyachievedby
heroismandnobleaudacitybutthroughbrutaltrickeryandconsciencelesspragmatism.Usuallysuchmadmenpresentthemselvesasgallantandchivalrous,butThomasCalefreelyadmitstopoisoninghisenemies’waterwithrottinganimalsandkillinghisopponentsintheirsleep.It’sworthrecordingbrieflyoneofourexchangesinthisregard.
MEIsitamatterofcoursewithyouthatyoualwayskillunarmedprisoners?PATIENTIt’seasierthankillingarmedones.MESoyoubelievethelivesofothersareamatterforsarcasm?PATIENT(NOREPLY)MEYouneverconsidershowingmercy?PATIENT
No,Ineverdid.MEWhy?PATIENTTheywouldn’thaveshownittome.Besides,whatwouldIdobutletthemgoonlytofindI’dhavetofightthemagain.ThenImightbecometheirprisoner–andbekilledmyself.MEWhataboutwomenandchildren?PATIENTIneverkilledthem
deliberately.MEButyou’vekilledthem?PATIENTYes.I’vekilledthem.
HeclaimedtohavebuiltacamptosequesterthewivesandchildrenoftheFolkinsurrectionandthatbecauseofhishavingbeenremovedelsewherealmosttheentirecantonmentoffivethousandsoulsdiedthroughfamineanddisease.WhenIaskedhimwhathefeltaboutthishe
replied:‘WhatshouldIfeel?’
Toreturntohisstory.AfterhisbrutalrescueofthebeautifulArbellMaterazzi(arethereanymerelyplainprincessesintheworldofthedelusional?)hewaspromoted,alongwithhistwofriends,toguardtheyoungwomantowardswhomhemaintainedthroughoutourthreelongconversationsadeeply
heldresentmentastoheringratitudeanddisdainforhim.ThisbitternessseemstoholdagreatswayoverhimbecauseofhisbeliefthatwhenMemphislaterfelltotheRedeemers,itdidsobecausetheMaterazzifailedtoexecutehisplantodefeatthem.(Heis,bytheway,veryinsistentthathisskillingeneralshipisgreatereventhanhistalentforpersonalsavagery.)
Usuallysarcasticandmatter-of-factasheboastsofhisgreatrisetopower–again,hisdrolltonemakesitseemnotlikeboastinguntilonereflectsuponhisclaimsintranquillity–hebecamemostindignantasherecountedthewayinwhichhewascaughtbytheRedeemersaftertheBattleofSilburyHill(certainlyadisasterforusallwhetherornotThomasCalewasinvolved).Itispossiblehewascaughtupinthebattleinaminor
way;hisdescriptionoftheeventstherehasthenoteofrealexperience.Likeallskilledromancershecanusehisactualeventstomaketheimaginedonestrulyplausible.Forexample,hefrequentlyexpressesrepentanceforanynobleorgenerousactionshehasperformed.HesaysthatheriskedhislifetosaveaMaterazziyouthwhohadbulliedandtormentedhim–anactofsanctitywhichhesayshenowbitterlyregrets.When
Iaskedwhetheritwasalwaysbadtoactgenerouslytowardsothershesaidthatinhisexperienceitmightnotbebadbutitwasalwaysa‘bloodycatastrophe’.Peoplethoughtsowellofdoinggood,hesaid,thatintheendtheyalwaysdecideditshouldbedoneattheendofasword.TheRedeemersthoughtsohighlyofgoodnesstheywantedtokilleveryoneincludingthemselvesandstartagain.Itturnsoutthat
thiswasthereasonhisformermentor,RedeemerBosco,wantedhimbackatanyprice.ThomasCaleis(ofcourse)noordinaryboybutthemanifestationofGod’swrathanddestinedtowipehisgreatestmistake(youandme,fortheavoidanceofdoubt)offthefaceoftheearth.Ihavetreatedshopkeeperswhothoughttheyweregreatgeneralsandmenwhocouldbarelywritewhothoughttheywerepoetsofunparalleled
geniusbutIhaveneverencounteredaninflationofsuchmagnitudebefore–letaloneinachild.WhenIaskedhimhowlonghe’dhadsuchfeelingsofimportancehebegantobacktrackand–withverybadtemper–saidthatthiswaswhatBoscothought,notwhathe,ThomasCale,thought.Morecircumspectly,IaskedhimifhebelievedRedeemerBoscowasmadandherepliedhehadnevermetaRedeemerwhowasn’tand
thatinhisexperienceagreatmanypeoplewhoseemedtoberightinthehead,onceyougottoseethem‘putundergrief’,were‘completelybarking’–anexpressionIhavenotencounteredbeforethoughitsmeaningwasclearenough.
Heisclever,then,atavoidingtheimplicationsofhisdelusionsofgrandeur:intheopinionofgreatandpowerfulmenhe
ismightyenoughtodestroyalltheworldbutthisdelusionisnothisbuttheirs.WhenIaskedhimifhewoulddosuchathinghisreplywasextremelyfoul-mouthedbuttotheeffectthathewouldnot.WhenIaskedwhetherhehadtheabilitytodosuchathinghesmiled–notpleasantly–andsaidhehadbeenresponsibleforthedeathsoftenthousandmenkilledinasingleday,soitwasonlyaquestionofhow
manythousandsandhowmanydays.
AfterhisrecapturebytheRedeemerBosco,hisroleofAngelofDeathtotheworldwasexplainedtohimindetailandhewasputtoworkbyhisformermentor.This‘Bosco’(thenewPopeiscalledBoscobutThomasCaleclearlylikesabiglie)ismuchhatedbyCalealthough,sincebuyinghimforsixpence,traininghimand
thenelevatinghimtothepoweralmostofagod,Boscoisparadoxicallythesourceofallhisexcellence.WhenIpointedthisoutheclaimedtoknowthisalready,thoughIcouldseeIhadscoredahittohisvanity(whichisverygreat).
Hethendetailedanendlessseriesofbattles,whichallsoundedthesametome,andinwhich
hewas,ofcourse,alwaysvictorious.WhenIaskedif,duringallthesesuccesses,hehadnotsufferedevenafewsetbackshelookedatmeasifhewouldliketocutmythroatandthenlaughed–butveryoddly,morelikeasinglebark,asifhecouldnotcontainsomethingveryfarfromhighspiritsorevenmockery.
Thesenumeroustriumphs
ledinturntohisbeinglesswatchedoverbyBoscothanformerly.Andafteryetanothergreatbattle,inwhichheovercamethegreatestofallopponents,heslippedawayintheresultingchaosandendedupinSpanishLeeds,wherehesufferedthefirstofthebrainattacksthatbroughthimhere.Iwitnessedoneoftheseseizuresandtheyarealarmingtowatchandclearlydistressingtoendure–hisentirebodyis
wrackedbyconvulsions,asifheistryingtovomitbutisunabletodoso.HeinsistshehasbeensentherebyfriendsofsomepowerandinfluenceinSpanishLeeds.Needlesstosay,oftheseimportantbenefactorsthereisnosign.WhenIaskedwhytheyhadnotbeentoseehimheexplained–asifIwereanidiot–thathehadonlyjustarrivedinCyprusandthatthedistancewastoogreatforthemtotraveltoseehimregularly.This
greatdistancewasadeliberatechoiceinordertokeephimsafe.‘Fromwhat?’Iasked.‘Fromallthosewhowantmedead,’hereplied.
HetoldmethathehadarrivedwithanattendantdoctorandaletterforMotherSuperiorAllbright.Pressed,hetoldmethatthedoctorhadreturnedtoSpanishLeedsthenextdaybutthathehadspentseveralhourswiththe
MotherSuperiorbeforehisdeparture.ClearlyThomasCalemusthavecomefromsomewhere,andtheremightindeedhavebeensomesortofattendantwhoarrivedwithhimbearingaletterandwhospokewiththeMotherSuperiorpriortoherstroke.Theloss,asitwere,ofbothletterandMotherSuperiorleavesthiscasesomewhatintheLimboinwhichunbaptizedinfantsaresaidtowaitouteternity.Given
theviolentnatureofhisimaginings(thoughnot,tobefair,hisbehaviour)itseemswisesttoplacehimintheprotectivewarduntilthelettercanbefoundortheMotherSuperiorrecoversenoughtotellusmoreabouthim.Asitstands,thereisnoonetowhomIcanevenwritetomakeenquiriesabouthim.Thisisanunsatisfactorystateofaffairsanditisnotthefirsttimebyalongchalkthatrecordshavegone
missing.Iwilldiscussthealleviationofhissymptomswhentheherbalistcomesthedayaftertomorrow.Astohisdelusionsofgrandeur–inmyopinion,treatingthoseistheworkofmanyyears.
AnnaCalkins,Anomist
ForweeksCalelayinbed,retchingandsleeping,retchingandsleeping.Hebecameawareafterafewdaysthatthedoorattheend
ofthetwenty-bedwardwaslockedatalltimes,butthiswasbothsomethinghewasusedtoand,inthecircumstances,hardlymattered:hewasnotinafitstatetogoanywhere.Thefoodwasadequate,thecarekindlyenough.Hedidnotlikesleepinginthesameroomasothermenonceagainbuttherewereonlynineteenofthemandtheyallseemed
2
TheTwoTrevors,LugavoyandKovtun,hadspentafrustratingweekinSpanishLeedstryingtodiscoverawayofgettingtoThomasCale.Theyhadbeenthwartedbythecautiousnatureofthe
enquiriesforcedontheminKittytheHare’scity(asithadnowbecome).Itdidn’tdotoupsetKittyandtheydidn’twanthimtoknowwhattheywereupto.Kittylikedabung,andtheamountofmoneyhe’dexpectforallowingthemtooperateinhisdominionwasnotsomethingtheywerekeentopay:thiswastobetheirlastjobandtheyhadnointention
ofsharingtherewardswithKittytheHare.Questionshadtobediscreet,whichisnoteasywhenfearisusuallywhatyoudo,whenthreatsareyourlegaltender.Thetwowereconsideringmorebrutalmethodswhendiscretionfinallypaidoff.Theyheardofayoungseamstressinthetownwhohadbeenencouragingabetterclassofclienttocometoherby
boasting,truthfully,thatshehadmadetheelegantsuitwornbyThomasCaleathisnotoriouslybad-temperedappearanceattheroyalbanquetheldinhonourofArbellMaterazziandherhusband,Conn.Whoknowswhathelpful
informationCalemighthaveletslipwhilehewashavinghisinsidelegmeasured?Tailorswerealmostasgooda
sourceofinformationaspriests,andeasiertomanipulate–thetailors’immortalsoulswerenotatriskforblabbingabitofdroppedgossip;therewasnosuchthingasthesilenceofthechangingroom.Buttheyoungseamstresswasnotaseasilymenacedasthey’dhoped.‘Idon’tknowanything
aboutThomasCale,andI
wouldn’ttellyouifIdid.Goaway.’Thisresponsemeantthat
oneoftwothingswasgoingtohappen.TrevorKovtunhadbynowresignedhimselftocommittinganatrocityofsomekind,KittytheHareornot.Helockedtheshopdoorandbroughtdowntheshutterontheopenwindow.Theseamstressdidn’twastehertimetellingthemtostop.
Theyloweredtheirvoicesastheyworked.‘I’mfedupwithwhatwe
havetodotothisgirl,’saidTrevorLugavoy.Thiswasbothtrueandawayoffrighteningher.‘Ireallydowantthistobeourlastjob.’‘Don’tsaythat.Ifyousay
it’sourlastthensomethingwillgowrong.’‘Youmean,’saidLugavoy,
‘somesupernaturalpoweris
listeningandwillthwartourpresumption?’‘Itdoesn’tdoanyharmto
actasiftherewereaGodsometimes.Don’ttemptprovidence.’TrevorKovtunwalked
overtotheseamstress,whohadbynowrealizedsomethingdreadfulhadcomeintoherlife.‘Youseemtobeaclever
littlething–yourownshop,a
sharptongueinyourhead.’‘I’llcalltheBadiel.’‘Toolateforthatnow,my
dear.TherearenoBadielsintheworldwe’reabouttotakeyouto–nodefendersorpreservers,nooneatalltowatchoveryou.Hereinthecityyoubelievedyouweresafe,byandlarge–butbeinganintelligentgirlyoumusthaveknowntherewerehorriblethingsoutthere.’
‘Wearethosehorriblethings.’‘Yes,weare.Wearebad
news.’‘Verybadnews.’‘Willyouhurthim?’she
said–lookingforawayout.‘Wewillkillhim,’said
TrevorKovtun.‘Butwe’vegivenourwordtodoitasquicklyaswecan.Therewillbenocruelty,justthedeath.Youmustmakeadecision
aboutyourself–liveordie.’Butwhatdecisionwas
there?Later,onleavingtheshop,
KovtunpointedoutthatevenayearearliertheywouldhavekilledthegirlinsuchanunspeakablyvilewaythatanyquestionofresistancetotheirinvestigationswouldhaveevaporatedlikethesummerdrizzleonthegreatsaltflatsofUtah.
‘Butthatwasayearago,’saidTrevorLugavoy.‘Besides,I’veafeelingwe’rerunningoutofdeaths.Bestbethrifty.Caleshouldbeourlastticket.’‘You’vebeensayingwe
shouldstopalmostsincewestartedtwentyyearsago.’‘NowImeanit.’‘Well,youshouldn’thave
saidanythingtomeaboutfinishinguntilweweredone
–thenwecouldjusthavefinished.Nowthatyou’vemadeathingaboutthisbeingourlastjobyou’veturneditintoanevent,so.IfyouwanttogetGod’sattention,tellhimyourplans.’‘IftherewasaGodwho
wasinterestedinstickinghisnosein,don’tyouthinkhe’dhaveputastoptousbynow?EitherGodintervenesinthelivesofmenorhedoesn’t.
There’snohalfway.’‘Howdoyouknow?His
endsmightbemysterious.’Theywereexperienced
menandusedtodifficultiesandtheywerenotespeciallysurprisedtodiscoverthatCalehadgonesomewhereelseforreasonsthegirlwasunclearabout.ButtheyhadthenameofVagueHenri,agooddescriptionofaboywithascaronhisface,anda
convincingassurancethathe’dknowexactlywhereCalehadgone.Threedaysofhangingaboutfollowed,askingtheirunsuspiciousquestionsandtryingnottobeconspicuous.Intheend,patiencewasallthatwasrequired.
VagueHenrilikedpeoplebutnotthekindofpeoplewholivedinpalaces.Itwasn’tthat
hehadn’tmadeaneffort.Atonebanquetatwhichhe’daccompaniedIdrisPukkehe’dbeenasked,withapolitelackofattention,howhe’dcometobethere.Thinkingtheywereinterestedinhisextraordinaryexperienceshetoldthem,startingwithhislifeintheSanctuary.Butthedetailsofthestrangeprivationsoftheplacedidnotfascinate,theyrepelled.Only
IdrisPukkeoverheardthechinlesswonderwhosaid,‘MyGod,thepeoplethey’relettinginthesedays.’ButthenextremarkwasheardbyVagueHenriaswell.He’dmentionedsomethingaboutworkinginthekitchensinMemphisandsomeexquisite,intendingtobeoverheard,drawled:‘Howbanal!’VagueHenricaughtthetoneofcontemptbutcouldn’tbesure
–hedidn’tknowwhatitmeant,perhapsitwasanexpressionofsympathyandhe’dmisunderstood.Decidingitwastimetoleave,IdrisPukkeclaimedhewasfeelingunwell.‘Whatdoesbarnowl
mean?’askedVagueHenrionthewayhome.IdrisPukkewasreluctanttohurthisfeelingsbuttheboyneededtoknowwhatthescorewaswith
thesepeople.‘Itmeanscommonplace–
beneaththeinterestofaculturedperson.Hewasadrawler:it’spronouncedban-al.’‘Hewasn’tbeingnice,
then?’‘No.’Hedidn’tsayanythingfor
aminute.‘Ipreferbarnowl,’hesaid
atlast.Butitstung.
MostofthetimeIdrisPukkewasawayonbusinessforhisbrotherandsoVagueHenriwaslonely.Henowrealizedhewasn’tacceptabletoSpanishLeedssociety,notevenitslowerrungs(whowere,ifanything,evenmoresnobbishthantheirbetters),soseveraltimesaweekhetookawalktothelocalbeercellarsandsatinacorner,sometimesstrikingup
aconversationbutmostlyjusteatinganddrinkingandlisteningtootherpeopleenjoyingthemselves.Hewastoousedtowearingacassocktobecomfortableinanythingelseand,likeCale,hadgottheseamstresstorunhimupacoupleinbluebirdseye:twelveounce,peakedlapelandfeltedpockets,straight,nobezel.Hewasquitethedandy.ButinSpanishLeeds,
afifteen-year-oldinacassockwithafreshscaronhischeekwashardtomiss.TheTwoTrevorswatchedVagueHenrifromtheothersideofthesnugasheenjoyedapintofMadDog,abeerhemarginallypreferredtoGo-By-The-WallorLiftLeg.Forthenexttwohours,to
theirritationoftheTwoTrevors,hechattedawaytovariouslocalsandwas
corneredforhalfanhourbyanamiabledrunk.‘D’yewlikedmetalled
cheese?’‘Sorry?’‘D’yewlikemetalled
cheese?’‘Oh,’saidVagueHenri,
afterapause.‘DoIlikemeltedcheese?’‘ShwatIshed.’Buthedidn’tmind.There
wassomethingmiraculousto
himstillaboutthetalk,buzzandlaughter,theordinarygoodtimesbeinghadbyalmosteveryoneexcepttheoccasionalmaudlinboozerorangrybladderedtoper.Atchucking-outheleftwiththeothers,theinebriatedandthesober.TheTwoTrevorsfollowedatacautiousdistance.Theseexperiencedmen
werenevercareless,they
wereaspreparedfortheunexpectedeventasifonetookplacedailyonthebacksoftheirhands,buttheirpositionastheyclosedonVagueHenriwasalittlemorehazardousthaneventhesecarefulmurderershadreckoned.Cale’sreputationasanepic
desperadohadnotsomuchovershadowedVagueHenri’sascaughtitinageneral
eclipse.TotheTwoTrevorshewasdangerous,nodoubt–theyknewhisbackgroundasaRedeemeracolyteandthatyouwouldhavetobeunusuallyhard-wearingtomakeittotheageoffifteen–buttheywerenot,intruth,expectinganastysurprise,eventhoughnastysurprisesweresomethingtheywereusedto.Beclear,twoagainstoneis
hideousodds,particularlywhenit’snightandtheTrevorsarethetwowhowantawordwithyou.ButVagueHenrihadalreadyimprovedhischances:heknewhewasbeingfollowed.Theysoonrealizedtheirmistakeandsteppedbackintotheshadowsandcalledouttohim.‘VagueHenri,isit?’said
TrevorLugavoy.
VagueHenriturned,lettingthemseetheknifeinhisrighthandandthathewaseasingaheartless-lookingknuckle-dusterontohisleft.‘Neverheardofhim.Buzz
off.’‘Wejustwantaword.’VagueHenriopenedhis
mouthasifinjoyoussurpriseandwelcome.‘ThankGod,’hesaid,‘you’vecomewithnewsofmybrother,
Jonathan.’Hemovedforward.HadLugavoy,whowastenyardsinfrontofKovtun,notbeenanassassinofaverysuperiorkindhewouldhavehadVagueHenri’sknifeburiedinhischest.UnluckilyforVagueHenri,Lugavoyinstantlybackedaway,alarmedbytheboy’soddnessashesteppedforwardandstruckout.ThetrickthathadearnedVague
Henrihisnickname,thesuddenincomprehensiblequestionoranswerintendedtodistract,hadfailed,ifonlyjust.Nowtheywerealertandthebalanceintheirfavouronceagain.‘Wewanttotalkto
ThomasCale.’‘Neverheardofhim,
either.’VagueHenribackedaway.
TheTwoTrevorsmoved
apartandthenforward–Lugavoywouldmakethefirstjab,Kovtunthesecond.Therewouldbenomorethanfour.‘Whereishe,yourfriend?’‘Noideawhatyou’re
talkingabout,mate.’‘Justtellusandwe’reon
ourway.’‘ComeabitcloserandI’ll
whisperitinyourear.’Theywouldn’thavekilled
himrightaway,ofcourse.
Theknifedriveninthreeinchesdeepjustabovethelowestribwouldhavetakenthefightoutoftheboylongenoughtogetsomeanswers.NeverbeforeinhislifeandonlyonceafterwardswasVagueHenrirescued–buttonighthewas.Inthealmostsilenceofthetrio’sscufflingmanoeuvrestherewasaloudCLICK!frombehindthetwoadvancingmen.Allthree
knewthesoundofthelatchofanoverstrungcrossbow.‘Hello,Trevors,’saida
cheerfulvoicefromsomewhereinthedark.Therewasamoment’s
silence.‘Thatyou,Cadbury?’‘Oh,indeeditis,Trevor.’‘Youwouldn’tshootaman
intheback.’‘Oh,indeedIwould.’Butthiswasn’tquitethe
rescueinthenickoftimesolovedbymagsmenandyarn-spinnersandtheirgullibleaudiences.Infact,Cadburyhadnoideawhotheyoungpersoninthepeculiarclotheswas.Forallheknew,hemightentirelydeservethefatetheTwoTrevorswereabouttohandouttohim–thepeopletheywerepaidtomurderusuallydid.Hehadnotbeenwatchingoverhim
but,onlyinamannerofspeaking,theTwoTrevors.They’dhadachangeof
heartaboutKittyaftertalkingtotheseamstress;itwasnolongerplausibletoimaginehewouldn’tbecomeawareoftheirpresence.Sothey’dobservedtheproperformbypayinghimavisitand,whiledecliningtosaywhattheirbusinesswasinSpanishLeeds,assuredKittythatit
wouldnotconflictwithhisown.AshepointedouttoCadburylater,whowerethesepairofmurdererstoknowwhatdidordidnotconflictwithKittytheHare’smultitudeofconcerns?Kittyinvitedthemtostayaslongastheywished.TheTwoTrevorsrepliedthattheywouldalmostcertainlybegonebythefollowingMonday.Theresultwasthat,
atconsiderableexpenseandsomedifficulty,Cadburyhadbeenkeepingtabsonthem,nottheeasiestofthingstodo.ThereasonhewashereinpersonwasthathiswatchfulintelligencershadlostthemforseveralhoursandCadburyhadbecomenervous.‘Whatnow?’saidTrevor
Lugavoy.‘Now?Nowyoubuzzoff
liketheyoungmansaid.AndImeanoutofSpanishLeeds.Goonapilgrimagetobegforgivenessforyourshitloadofsins.IhearLourdesisparticularlyhorribleatthistimeofyear.’Andthatwasthat.The
TwoTrevorsmovedtothewalloppositeVagueHenri,butbeforetheymergedwiththedark,Lugavoynoddedtowardshim.‘Seeyou.’
‘Luckyforyou,oldman,’saidVagueHenri,‘thathecamewhenhedid.’Thentheyweregone.‘Thisway,’saidCadbury.
AsVagueHenristeppedbehindhimheletgooftheoverstrungbowandwithanenormousTWANG!theboltshotintotheblackness,bouncingbetweenthenarrowwallsinacriss-crossseriesofpings.AsVagueHenriand
hisnot-exactlyrescuerputonsomespeeddowntheroad,amildlyoffendeddistantvoicecalledouttothem,‘Youwanttobecareful,Cadbury,youcould’vehadsomeone’seyeout.’Itwasunfortunatethat
CadburyandVagueHenrimetundersuchcircumstances.Thelatterwasnofoolandwasgettinglessfoolishallthetime–butif
someonesavesyourlifeonlythemostdisciplinedcouldfailtobegrateful.Andhewas,afterall,stilljustaboy.Cadbury’soffertostay
withhimfortheeveningwaswelltakenandVagueHenriverymuchneededtheseveraldrinkshewasofferedontopoftheoneshe’dhadalready.NosurprisethenthathetoldCadburyagreatdealmorethanheshouldhave.Cadbury
was,whennotmurderingorcarryingoutdoubtfulbusinessonbehalfofKittytheHare,anamiableandentertainingpresence,andascapableanddesiringofaffectionandfriendshipasanyoneelse.Inshort,hequicklydevelopedafondnessforVagueHenri,andnotonelikethatofIdrisPukke’sforCalethatwasparticularlydifficulttounderstand.It
evenhadthemarkoftruefriendship,ifbythatonemeansthewillingnessoffriendstoputasidetheirowninterestsfortheother’s.CadburydecideditmightbebetterifVagueHenriwerenotdrawntoKittytheHare’sattentioninanymoredistinctivewaythanhealreadyhadbeen(asanunimportantfamiliarofThomasCale).Kittywas
skilledatnotlettingyoubecomeawareofwhatheknewordidnotknow.‘Theyarehoioligoiof
assassins,’CadburyrepliedtoVagueHenri’squestions.‘TheTwoTrevorscutdownWilliamtheSilentinbroaddaylight,surroundedbyahundredbodyguards;theypoisonedthelampreysofCleopatraeventhoughshehadthreetasters.Whenhe
heardwhatthey’ddonetoher,theGreatSnopeswassoafraidthatheatenothinghehadn’tpickedhimself–butonenighttheysmearedalltheapplesinhisorchardusingastrangedevicetheymadethemselves.Theyleavenosurvivors.WhoeveritisthatCalehasupset,theyhavemoneyandagreatdealofit.’‘I’dbetterdisappear.’‘Well,ifyoucanvanish
intothinairthenbyallmeansdoso.Butifyoucan’tevaporateyou’rebetteroffwhereyouare.NoteventheTwoTrevorswillignoreKittytheHare’sinstructiontostayawayfromSpanishLeeds.’‘Ithoughttheycouldgetto
anyone?’‘Sotheycan.ButKitty
isn’tjustanyone.Besides,noonehaspaidthemforsucha
risk.They’lllookforanotherway.Juststayoutofsightforthenextweek,untilIcansayforcertainthatthey’vegone.’
3
Itwasmid-morningandCalewaswaitingtogomadagain.Itwasasensationsomethingliketheuneasyfeelingbeforeachunderheavesoutthepoisonsofatoxicmeal;thesenseofahorrible,almost
livingcreaturegainingstrengthinthebowels.Itmustcomebutitwilltakeitstime,notyours,andthewaitingisworsethanthespewingup.Ajuggernautwasonitsway,passengeredbydevils:Legion,Pyro,Martini,Leonard,NannyPowlerandBurntJarl,allofthemgibberingandshriekinginCale’spoortum.Facetothewall,kneesto
hischest,waitingforittobeoverwith,hefeltaheftyshoveintheback.Heturned.‘You’reinmybed.’Thespeakerwasatall
youngmanwholookedasifhisclotheswerefillednotbyfleshbutlargeill-shapenpotatoes.Forallhislumpinesstherewasrealpowerhere.‘What?’‘You’reinmybed.Get
out.’‘Thisismybed.I’vehadit
forweeks.’‘ButIwantit.Sonowit’s
mine.Understand?’Indeed,Caledid
understand.Thedaysofinvincibilitywereoverfortheforeseeablefuture.Hepickeduphisfewpossessions,puttheminhissack,wentovertoafreecornerandhadhisattackoftheconniptionsas
quietlyashecould.
InSpanishLeeds,VagueHenriwasonhiswaybacktohisroominthecastle,protectedasfarasthegatebyfourofCadbury’sstooges,andwithapromiseoffinancialhelpfromhisnewfriendinthematterofthePurgators.VagueHenridetestedallonehundredandfiftyoftheseformer
RedeemerswhoCalehadsavedfromBrzca’sknife–forthesimplereasonthattheywerestillRedeemersasfarashewasconcerned.ButtheywerevaluablebecausetheywouldnowfollowCaleanywhere,undertheentirelymistakenbeliefthathewastheirgreatleaderandasdevotedtothemastheyweretohim.CalehadusedthemtofighthiswayacrosstheSwiss
border,intendingtodesertthemassoonasheandVagueHenriweresafe.ButCalesoonrealizedthatcontrollingsomanytrainedsoldierswillingtodieforhimwouldbeextremelyusefulintheviolenttimesahead,howevermuchheloathedtheirpresence.TherewasoneweaknessinCale’splan:howtopaytheruinousamountofmoneyitcosttokeepso
manyinidlenessuntiltheexpectedwarstarted–which,ofcourse,itmightnot.WithCalegone,VagueHenridesperatelyneededmoneyforhimselfandforthekeepofthePurgators.HealsoneededafriendandhehadfoundbothinCadbury,whothoughtitusefultohavesomeoneindebtedtohimwhocoulddrawonsucharesourceintheseuncertaintimes.Itwas
clearthatVagueHenriwasunwillingtodiscussCale’swhereaboutsandwouldonlysaythathewasillbutwouldbebackinafewmonths.CadburywastoosmarttoraiseVagueHenri’ssuspicionsbypressinghim.Insteadofaskingquestionsheofferedhelp–awinningstrategyinallcircumstances.NowKittyhadan
influenceoversomeonewho
knewandunderstoodthePurgatorsandwhopossessedinformationaboutthewhereaboutsofThomasCale.Thisinformationmightbecomeimportantinduecourseandnowheknewwheretogetitshouldthisprovenecessary.KittytheHarewasapersonofintelligencebutalsoconsiderableinstinct.WhenitcametoCale,heshared
Bosco’sbeliefinhisremarkablepossibilities,ifnottheirsupernaturalorigin;butnewsofCale’sillness,howevervague,meantthatKitty’splansforhimmighthavetoberevised.Ontheotherhand,theymightnot.Itwoulddependonwhatkindofsicknesswasatissue.DesperateanddangeroustimeswerecomingandKittytheHareneededtoprepare
forthem.ThepotentialusefulnessofThomasCalewastoogreattoletthequestionofhiscurrentill-healthentirelydiminishKitty’sinterestinwhatbecameofhim.Athumboneveryscale
andafingerineverypiewasKitty’sreputation,butthesedaysmostofhisconcentrationwasonwhatwasbeingweighedand
cookedinLeedsCastle,thegreatkeepthatscrapedtheskiesabovethecity.Itsfamefornothavingrequiredadefenceinoverfourhundredyearswasnowthreatened,andKingZogofSwitzerlandandAlbaniahadarrivedtodiscussitsdefencewithhischancellor,BoseIkard,amanhedisliked(hisgreat-grandfatherhadbeenintrade)butknewhecouldnotdo
without.ItwassaidofZogthathewaswiseabouteverythingexceptanythingofimportance–aworseinsultthanitappeared,inthathiswisdomwasconfinedtoskillatsettinghisfavouritesagainstoneanother,renegingonpromisesandatalentfortakingbribesthroughhisminions.Iftheywerecaught,however,hemadesuchashowofpunishingthemand
expressingcompleteoutrageattheircrimesthathewasgenerallymorerenownedforhishonestythanotherwise.Alltheposhwithpower,
thewhowhom,thenobswhohadgatheredinLeedsCastletodiscussthepossibilityofstayingoutofthecomingwarwereanxioustobecomefavourites,iftheywerenotalready,andtostaythatwayiftheywere.Nevertheless,
thereweremanywhodislikedZogonamatterofprinciple.TheywereparticularlyagitatedatthegreatgatheringbecauseonhiswaytoLeedshehadstuckhisroyalnoseintoavillagecouncilinquiry(hewasarelentlessbusybodyinminoraffairsofstate)regardinganaccusationthatarecentlyarrivedrefugeefromthewarwas,infact,aRedeemerspy.Convincedof
theman’sguilt,Zoghadstoppedtheproceedingsandorderedhisexecution.Thisupsetmanyofthegreatandgoodbecauseitbroughthometothemthefragilenatureofthelawsthatprotectedthem:if,asoneofthemsaid,amancanbehangedbeforehehasbeentried,howlongbeforeamancanbehangedbeforehehasoffended?Besides,evenifhewereguiltyitwas
obviouslyfoolishtoupsettheRedeemersbyhangingoneofthemwhiletherewasstill,theyhoped,achanceofpeace.Hisactionswerebothillegalandthoughtlesslyprovocative.Zogwasofafearful
dispositionandthenewsfromhisinformersthatanotoriouspairofassassinshadbeenseeninthecityhadunnervedhimtotheextentthathehad
comeintothegreatmeetinghallwearingajacketreinforcedwithaleatherliningasprotectionagainstaknifeattack.Itwassaidthathisfearofknivescamefromthefactthathismother’sloverhadbeenstabbedinherpresencewhileshewaspregnantwithZog,whichwasalsothereasonforhisbandylegs.Thisparticularweaknessalsocausedhimto
leanontheshouldersofhischieffavourite,atthattimethemuchdespisedLordHarwood.Therewereperhapsfifty
hoioligoiofSwisssocietypresent,mostofthembeamingwithwitlesssubservienceasisthewayofpeopleinthepresenceofroyalty.Theremainderlookedattheirmonarchwithmuchloathinganddistrustas
heshuffleddowntheaisleofthegreathall,leaningonHarwood,withhislefthandfiddlingaroundnearhisfavourite’sgroin,ahabitthatincreasedinintensitywheneverhewasnervous.Zog’stonguewastoolargeforhismouth,whichmadehimanappallinglymessyeateraccordingtoIdrisPukke,whohadinbettertimesdinedwithhimoften.Carelessof
changinghisclothes,youcouldtellwhatmealshehadgollopedintheprevioussevendays,saidIdrisPukke,fromlookingcloselyatthefrontofhisshirt.Aftermuchroyalfaffing
about,BoseIkardbeganaforty-minuteaddressinwhichhesetoutthepresentsituationregardingtheintentionsoftheRedeemers,concludingthatwhilethe
possibilityofwarwasnottobediscounted,therewerestrongreasonstobelievethatSwissneutralitycouldbemaintained.Then,likeamagicianproducingnotmerelyarabbitbutagiraffeoutofahat,hetookapieceofpaperfromhisinsidepocketandwaveditbeforethemeeting.‘TwodaysagoImetwithPopeBoscohimself,justtenmilesfromour
border,andhereisapaperwhichbearshisnameuponitaswellasmine.’Therewasagaspandevenasinglecheerofanticipation.ButonthefacesofVipondandIdrisPukketherewasonlydismay.‘Iwouldliketoreadittoyou.“We,thePontiffofthetruefaithful,andChancellorofalltheSwissbyconsentoftheKingofSwitzerland,areagreedin
recognizingthatpeacebetweenusisofthefirstimportance.”’Therewasaloudburstofapplause,someofitspontaneous.‘“And…”’moreapplause,‘“andthatweareagreednevertogotowarwithoneanotheragain.”’Cheersofhighreliefrang
uptotheroofandechoedback.‘Hear,hear!’someoneshouted.‘Hear,hear!’‘“Weareresolvedthat
discussionanddialoguewillbethemeansweshallusetodealwithanyoutstandingquestionsthatconcernourtwocountriesandtoresolveallpossiblesourcesofdifferenceinordertomaintainthepeace.”’Therewerehiphiphoorays
forChancellorIkardandachorusof‘ForHe’saJollyGoodFellow’allround.Duringthecommotion,
IdrisPukkewasabletomutterinVipond’sear.‘Youmustsaysomething.’‘Nowisnotthetime,’
repliedVipond.‘Therewon’tbeanother.
Stallit.’Vipondstoodup.‘Iampreparedtosay
withoutanyhesitationordoubtthatPopeBoscohasanotherpaper,’saidVipond.‘Andinthispaperhesetsout
thegeneralschemefortheattackonSwitzerlandandthedestructionofitsking.’Therewasthedistinctive
murmurofpeoplewhohadheardsomethingtheydidn’tcarefor.‘Wearenegotiating
acceptablepeaceterms,’saidBoseIkard,‘withanenemyweknowtobeviolentandwellprepared.ItwouldbeastonishingonlyifPope
Boscodidnothavesuchaplan.’Themurmurwasnowone
ofsophisticatedapproval:itwasreassuringtohaveamannegotiatingforpeacewhowassuchacoolrealist.Suchamanwouldnothavehispocketpickedbywishfulthinking.Later,asthemeetingcametoanendandtheconferencefiledout,mullingoverwhatthey’d
heard,KingZogturnedtohischancellor.Ikardwashoping,withgoodreason,tobecomplimentedfordealingsoskilfullywithanopponentlikeLordVipond.‘Who,’saidZog,tongue
aflutterinhismouth,‘wasthatstrikingyoungmanstandingbehindVipond?’‘Oh.’Apause.‘Thatwas
ConnMaterazzi,husbandoftheDuchessArbell.’
‘Really?’saidZog,breathless.‘AndwhatkindofMaterazziishe?’BythishemeantwasheoneoftheclaningeneralorofthedirectlineofdescentfromWilliamMaterazzi,knownastheConquerorortheBastard,dependingonwhetherhehadtakenyourpropertyorgivenittoyou.‘Heisadirectdescendent,
Ibelieve.’
TherewasawetsighofsatisfactionfromZog.FromLordHarwoodtherewasathunderouslookofresentment.Theroyalfavourite,whosignedhisletterstotheKingas‘Davy,YourMajesty’smosthumbleslaveanddog’,nowhadarival.Anequerry,somewhat
hesitant,sidleduptotheKing.‘YourMajesty,the
peopleareraisingaclamourtoseeyouatthegreatbalcony.’Thisimpressiveplatform,knownasElBalcondelosSicofantes,hadbeenbuilttwohundredyearsbeforetoshowoffKingHenry11’smuchadoredSpanishbride.Itlookedoutoveravastmallonwhichmorethantwohundredthousandcouldgathertopraisethemonarch.
Zogsighed.‘ThepeoplewillneverbesatisfieduntilItakedownmytrousersandshowthemmyarse.’Hewalkedofftowardsthe
greatwindowandthebalconybeyond,callingouttoBoseIkardcasually,‘TelltheyoungMaterazzitocomeandseeme.’‘Itwouldsendawrong
signaltomany,includingPopeBosco,ifyouwereto
seeDuchessArbellpersonally.’KingZogofSwitzerland
andAlbaniastoppedandturnedtohischancellor.‘Indeeditwouldbeamistake.Butyouarenottoteachmetosuckeggs,mylittledog.WhosaidanythingaboutseeingArbellMaterazzi?’
Connhadbarelyreturnedto
hiswife’sapartmentswhenZog’smostimportantflunky,LordKeeperStJohnFawsley,arrivedtocommandhimtoattendtheKingintwodays’timeatthreeo’clockintheafternoon.TheLordKeeperwasknowntotheolderprincesandprincessesasLordCreepsleyOnAllFawsley–likeroyaltyeverywhere,theydemandedservilityandalsodespisedit.
ItwassaidthatonhearinghisnicknameLordStJohnwasbesidehimselfwithdelightattheattention.‘Whatwasthatabout?’
wonderedabaffledConnafterhe’dleft.‘TheKingkeptlookinginmydirectionandrollinghiseyesatmewithsuchdistasteIalmostgotuptoleave.Nowhewantstohaveanaudiencewithmeonmyown.I’llrefuseunlesshe
invitesArbell.’‘No,youwon’t,’said
Vipond.‘You’llgoandyou’lllikeit.Seewhathewants.’‘I’dhavethoughtthatwas
obvious.DidyouseehimfidgetingaboutinHarwood’sgroin?Icouldbarelybringmyselftolook.’‘Don’tfashyourself,my
Lord,’saidIdrisPukke.‘TheKingwasbadlyfrightenedinthewombandasaresultheis
averysingularprince.Butifhe’smadaboutyouthenit’sthebestnewswe’vehadinalongtime.’‘Whatdoyoumean–mad
aboutme?’‘Youknow,’taunted
IdrisPukke,‘ifhelooksonyouwithextremefavour.’‘Don’tlistentohim,’said
Vipond.‘TheKingiseccentric,oratanyrate,giventhatheisaking,we’veall
agreedtocallitnothingmore.Exceptforacertainover-familiaritywithyourpersonyou’venothingtoworryabout.You’lljusthavetoputupwithhisstrangenessforthereasonsmybrotherhasreferredto.’‘IthoughtIwasn’t
supposedtolistentoIdrisPukke?’‘Thenlistentome.Thisis
achanceforyoutodoallof
usagreatdealofgood.Godknowsweneedit.’Arbell,stillplumpbutpale
afterthebirthofherson,reachedupfromhercouchandtookConn’shand.‘Seewhathewants,mydear,andIknowyou’lluseyourgoodjudgement.’
4
KevinMeatyardmighthavelookedlikeasackofpotatoeswithalargeturniprestingonthetopbuthewastack-sharpandhismalicehadasubtleringtoit.Inothercircumstances–if,perhaps,
he’dhadalovingmotherandwiseteachers–hemighthavemadesomethingremarkableofhimself.Butprobablynot.Murderingababyinitscradleis,ofcourse,somethingthatshouldneverbedone–exceptinthecaseofKevinMeatyard.Weallknowweshouldnot
judgepeoplebytheirappearance,justaswealsoknowthatthisiswhatwe
generallydo.Andthisweaknessinusallmakesthisregrettablerealityaself-fulfillingprognostication.Thebeautifulareadoredfrombirthandtheybecomeshallowwiththelackofeffortrequiredinlife;theuglyarerejectedandbecomeangry.PeoplerejectedKevinMeatyardforthewrongreasonsbuttherewerethose,notsoshallow,whowere
readytoshowhimsomehumansympathydespitehisgiftlessappearanceandcharacter.OneofthesekindpeoplewasHeadmanNurseGromek.Ifhe’dnevermetMeatyardandfeltsorryforhimthenhewouldhavecarriedonbeingtheblandlygoodmanthathe’dbeenallhislife:harmless,competent,pleasantenough,alittleblank.
SensingGromek’sopen-mindednessabouthim,Meatyardbegantomakehimselfuseful,makingcupsoftea,cleaningtables,fetchingandcarrying,listeningandwatchingforanyoccasiontolightenGromek’sconsiderableload.Gromekbegantorealizethatmealtimes,alwaysanoccasionfortheawkwardamongthepatientstokickup
afuss,becamemucheasierwhenKevinMeatyardwashelpinghimwiththeserving-up.HowwashetoknowthatMeatyardwasissuingthreatstohisfellowlunatics(‘I’lltearoffyourheadandremoveyourbollocksthroughthehole’)andbackingthemupatnight,mostsuccessfully,usingatwelve-inchpieceoftwineandthesmallestofstones?Whateverpainyou’ve
everfeltwasunlikelytocomparewiththatinflictedbyMeatyardputtingatinypebblebetweenyourtwosmallesttoes,wrappingstringaroundthemandsqueezingtight.HelikedbestofalltodothistoLittleBrianinthebednexttotheonehehadinstructedThomasCaletosleepin.Somethingslyandclever
inMeatyarddrovehimto
provokeCalebymakinghimwitnesscrueltyagainsttheweak–andtherewasnooneweakerthanLittleBrian.Meatyard,alongwiththegrosserpleasureofcausingpain,enjoyedthecriesoftheboyreachingouttoCaleashelayimpassivelyonhisback,neitherturningawayfromnortowardsthehorrorhappeningnexttohim.MeatyardcouldsenseCale’s
weakness:acertaincompassionforthefrail.Itwasthisweaknessthathadforcedhim,howeverreluctantly,tokillRedeemerPicarboashewasabouttoslaughterthebeautifullyplumpRiba.Buthe’dbeenstrongthen;
nowhewasweakandhehadnochoicebuttoendureLittleBrian’sagony.Thetroublewasthathecouldnotendure
it.WhatgaveMeatyardsomuchpleasurewasthathecouldfeelCale’ssoulerodinginfrontofhim.Meatyard’scoarserappetiteforphysicalsufferingwasregularlysatisfied,andthisplacewaslikeasweetshoptoagreedyboy,buthealsolikedtoenjoythemoresubtlesufferinghegotfromhisawarenessofCale’ssoulwastingaway.Soon,withMeatyardin
chargeofthehandingoutofmedicines,eventhisworstofalloccasionsforcalamityanddistressbecamehushedandorderly.Atnight,inHeadman
NurseGromek’slittleworkroomofftheward,Meatyardwouldtalktohimandlistencarefullytoallhiswoes.OverdaysandweeksMeatyardnourishedallthenurse’smanyresentmentsin
life,andoneinparticular.ThatNurseGromekwasanuglymanitwouldbeunkindbutnotuntruetosay.Thiswaspartlywhatdrewthetwoofthemtogether:GromekfeltsorryforMeatyardbecausehewassounprepossessinginthewayhelooked.ThispitywasawayinforMeatyard,andsoonhefoundtheweaknessinGromekthatlayunderhisdecentqualitiesand
ruledoveralltheothers:hewasamanwithalovingdispositionyetnotlovedbyanyone.Hecaredforwomenbuttheydidnotcareforhim.WhenMeatyardcottonedontothisitshowedhimathissharpestbest.HecouldfeelthedisappointmentandresentmentinGromek’sapparentresignationtothefactthatnoonelovedhim.Hecouldseehowangryhe
reallywas.‘It’swrong,’said
Meatyard,drinkingteaandeatingtoastinthelittleroom,‘thatwomendon’tmindyoulookingatthemiftheythinkyou’rehandsome.Butiftheydon’tlikeyourfacethenallofasuddenyou’readirtyman–awho-do-you-think-you-are-to-look-at-meskank.Theyputtheirtitsondisplayforeveryone–exceptforyou
orme.We’renotworthytolook.’Afterafewweeksofthis,GromekwaspuffedupwithrageandaseasyforMeatyardtoplaywithasaball.SoonGromek,amanwho’dhadenoughofbeingshituponbygirls,wasbringinginwomenfromthewardnextdoor.UsedtobeingtreatedwithkindnessinthePriory,thesewomenweretrustingandwereleft
unsupervisedatnightbecausetheywereamongthemildercasesofinsanity.MeatyardpersuadedGromektobringthemintohislittleroomknowinghecouldkeepshutthemouthsofthepatientslisteningoutside.Besides,thepatientsherewereoftenravingmadandfullofstoriesoftheterrorsofhellthathappenedsolelyintheirtorturedminds.Now
Meatyardbroughtthemexperienceoftherealthing.Whereverhewentwashell,butinthathellhemadeaheavenforhimself.TherewasnoangrydespairinvolvedinbeingKevinMeatyard,notormentinhissoulactingoutrevengeagainstanunkindworld.Itwasbliss:inflictingpain,tormentingofsouls,rape.Hedelightedinbeinghimself.
Atnightthelunaticslistenedtothegirlswhimperingsoftly–Meatyardlikedabitofcryingbutitmustbequiet.Therewastheoccasionalloudcryofpain,andanansweringyelpfromamadmaninthewardthinkingitwasthecallofhisowndevilscomingatlasttodraghimdown.FromtimetotimeMeatyardwouldpopouttohaveasmoke,
playfullyswingingthepebbleknottedinhispieceofstring,andchattoCaleashelayinhisbed,staringatraftersandtheblackbeyond.‘Youtakeiteasy,’said
MeatyardtoCale.‘Andifyoucan’ttakeiteasy,takeitanywayyoucan.’Itwasduringonesuch
break,asKevinMeatyard,havingleftGromekinhislittleroomtotakehisturn
withagirlalone,puffedonasnoutandgaveCalethebenefitofhisopinions,thateventstookanunexpectedturn.‘Youhavetohavetheright
attitude,’MeatyardwassayingtoCale,whowasasusualstaringupintothevoidabove.‘You’vegottomakethebestofthings.There’snopointjustlyingbackandfeelingsorryforyourselfin
life.That’syourproblem.Youjusthavetogetonwithit,likeme.Ifyoucan’tdothatthenyou’reanon-runner.Thisworldisapig–butyoujusthavetogetonwithit,likeme,see.’Hedidnotexpectareply,nordidhegetone.‘Whatdoyouwant,
Gibson?’Thisquestionwas
addressedtoamaninhislate
fortieswhohadappearedatMeatyard’sshoulder.Themandidn’treplybutstabbedhiminthechestwithabladeabouttenincheslong.MeatyardjerkedtoonesideinagonyasGibsontriedtowrenchthebladefree,snappingitoffinMeatyard’schestintheprocess.Itwasacheapkitchenknifethatoneofthemeninthewardhadfoundrustingawayatthe
backofanoldcupboardinthecookhouse.Horrifiedandastonished,Meatyardfellandinamomenthalfadozenlunaticswereontopofhimandholdinghimdown.Cale,meanwhile,rolledoffhisbedandawayfromthefight,shakyandkitten-weakafterarecentvisitfromNannyPowlerandtherestofhisdevils.Hewatchedasfourothermenpiledintothe
annexeanddraggedHeadmanNurseGromekoutintothemainbodyoftheward,hisstrugglesmuchrestrictedbythetrousersaroundhisanklesfromwhichhewastryingtofreehimself.Thelunaticshaddecidedto
killGromekfirstinordertogiveKevinMeatyardachancetoappreciateproperlywhatwastocomeandtogivehimabrieftasteinthislifeof
whathecouldexpectforalleternityinthenext.Terrorcaneithermake
menweakormiraculouslystrong.Freeingonelegfromthetrousersaroundhisankles,Gromekmanagedtogetenoughpurchase,despitethemenholdinghim,tostaggerdownthewardandgettothelockeddoor,shoutingforhelpashewent.Thelunaticwithhisarm
aroundGromek’sneckimmediatelyshiftedittohismouth,stiflinghiscriesenoughtomakeanyonepassingthinkitwasjustapatientkickingoff.Asiftheywerewadingupstreaminfastwater,thefiveofthemlurcheddowntheward,thentwomoregrabbedGromek’slegsuntilhispanic-strengthgaveoutandhecollapsedontothefloor.Determinedto
gethimawayfromthedoorandbacktowhereMeatyardwasbeingheldtheystartedtopullGromekdownthecentralaisle.Whilethiswasgoingon,KevinMeatyardwasloudlybutcalmlylistingwhathewasgoingtodotohiscaptorswhenhegotfree:‘I’llshoveyoubackup
yourmother’scrack.I’llpissdownyourthroat.I’llfuckyouintheear.’
Oncethey’ddraggedGromekinfrontofMeatyard,hewaspulleduprightwithhisbackagainstthewallsohecouldgetagoodviewofGromek’sdeath.Withoutthekitchenknife
thelunaticsneededtothinkagain.Naturally,anythinginthewardthatcouldbeusedasaweaponhadbeenremoved–buteventhoughthebedlegswerecarefullybolted
intoplace,theyhadmanagedtounscrewone.Ashewasstillstruggling,gruntingandgaspingoneofthelunaticsgrabbedGromekunderthechinandyankedhisheaduptoexposehisthroatsothattwooftheotherscouldpressthebedlegacrosshisneck.AterriblemuffledscreameruptedfromdeepinGromek’schestasherealizedwhattheyweregoingtodo.
Terroragaingavehimunnaturalstrengthandthis,combinedwiththesweatpouringoffhisface,meantthemanholdinghischinlosthisgrip.TwomoreattemptsfollowedasthewatchingMeatyardkeptuphisthreatsofhideousrevenge–‘I’llchewoffyourplumsandshove’emupyourwinker’–butevenhefellsilentwhenGromek’sneckwasarched
backandthelegofthebedheldacrosshiswindpipewithamankneelingoneachside.Itwasn’tquick.Thesoundswerefromoutofthisworld–awetchokingandacrushingofbreathingflesh.CalewastransfixedbyGromek’shands,flutteringandquiveringintheair,oneofhisfingerspointingandshakingasiftellingoffachild.Afteranagetheshiveringhands
becametautforamoment,thendroppedsuddenlytothefloor.Thekneelinglunaticsstayedastheywereforafullminuteandthenslowlystoodup.TheylookedatKevinMeatyardlyingpinneddownwithhisbacktothewall.Astheymovedtowards
him,Calecalledouttothem.‘Becareful.Makesureyou’vegothimtight.Don’tlethimgettohisfeet.’
Butwhypayattentiontothewarningsofaboywho’ddonenothingbutlieonhisbedandretchforacoupleofhoursaday?TheymovedonMeatyard.Thesixlunaticswhohadaholdonhimpulledhimtohisfeetand,knowingthiswashisonechance,Meatyardtookadvantageofthemomentumoftheliftandwithallhislumpenstrengthshookthemfree.Thenhe
grabbedtheastonishedLittleBrianinhisarmsandranupthewardusingtheboyasabatteringram.Hegottothedoorandturnedtofacethemasthelunaticsbeganedgingaroundhiminasemi-circle.Hesqueezedtheboyaroundthethroatandmadehimcryoutinfearandpain.‘StaywhereyouareorI’llbreakhisbloodyneck.’Thenhebackheeledthedoor,making
itrattleandthudasifagiantwastryingtogetout.‘Help!’heshoutedashekickeditoverandover.‘HELP!’Nowthelunaticswere
scared–ifMeatyardgotawaytheyweredonefor.They’dplannedtosaythepairofthemgotintoafightoverwho’dhavethegirlfirstandthatthey’dkilledMeatyardwhiletryingtosaveGromek.
WithMeatyardfreeandonlythewordofmurderouslunaticsagainsthimthey’dbeshuntedofftothemadhouseinBethlehem,wheretheluckyonesdiedinthefirstyearandtheunluckyonesdidn’t.‘Puthimdown.’Cale
pushedthroughthemensurroundingMeatyard.‘I’llbreakhisneck,’said
Meatyard.
‘Idon’tcarewhatyoudotohim,aslongasyouputhimdown.’It’satruismthatisn’ttrue
thatallbulliesarecowards–anditwascertainlynottrueofKevinMeatyard.Hewasafraid,ashehadeveryreasontobe,buthewasincontrolofhisfearasmuchasanybravemanmightbe–althoughhiskindofcouragewasnotbravery.Neitherwashea
foolandhewasatoncealerttothepeculiarityofCale’sinsolence.Calewasoneofhisvictimsandheknewhowvictimsbehaved,butforthesecondtimethatnighttheyweren’tbehavingastheyoughttoand,tobefairtoMeatyard,astheyusuallydid.Calewasbehavingoddlyandinanoddway.‘Wecanallcomeaway
fromthis,’Calelied.
‘How?’‘Wesaythatitwas
Gromekwhotookthegirlandthatallofus,youincluded,ashamedtoletsuchathingtakeplace,wereforcedtodraghimoffherandhediedinthestruggle.Thegirlwillbackthatup.’Helookedoverhisshoulder,stillmovingforwardslowly.‘Won’tyou?’‘No,Ifuckingwon’t!’the
girlshoutedback.‘Iwanthim
hanged.’‘She’llseereason,she’s
justupset.’AllthetimeCalewasclosinginonthesuspiciousbuthopefulMeatyard,hismindfizzingashetriedtothinkwhattodonext.‘Theynearlysquashedhis
neckoff,’saidMeatyard.‘Noonewillbelievehegotkilledbyaccident.I’lltakemychances.’
HebackheeledthedooragainandthefirstsyllableofascreamforhelpwasalreadyoutwhenCalehithiminthethroatwithallhisstrength.UnfortunatelyforCaleandthelunatics,allhisstrengthdidn’tamounttomuch.ItwastheprecisionoftheblowthathurtMeatyard,thatmadehimjerktotheleftandcausedthebackofLittleBrian’sheadtoknocktherustybladesticking
outofhischest.Inagonyfromtheknife,hedroppedLittleBrian.CalehittheheelofhishandintothemiddleofMeatyard’schest.WhenhewastenyearsoldeitherblowwouldhavedroppedMeatyardasifhewerestandingonatrapdoor,buthewasnottenanymore.Meatyardlashedoutandmissed,butthefollow-onlandedacloutonthesideof
Cale’shead.Hefellasifhe’dbeenhitbyabear.Thebloodpoundedinhisearsandwhatlittlestrengthhehadinhisarmswasdrainingawaytopinsandneedles.MeatyardtooktwostepsandwouldhavegivenCaleakickbigenoughtolandhiminthenextworld,buttherewasstillsomebrawnleftinCale’slegssohekickedawayMeatyard’sstandingfootand
hewentdownwithawalloponthewoodenfloor.LuckilyforCale,Meatyardwaswindedandthisgavehimtimetogettohisfeet.Hisheadwasfullofwasps,hisarmsshaky.Hehadonepunchleftinhim,butnotagoodone.Inthestrugglethelunatics
hadbackedaway,asifCaleemergingtotakechargehadrobbedthemofthecollective
willthathadbroughtthemthisfar.Itwasthegirlwhosavedthem.‘Helphim,’sheshouted,rushingforwardandleapingontopofMeatyard.ThisdecidedMeatyardonhismostdesperateplan,onehe’dthoughtupwhilehisfleshwascrawlingashewasmadetowatchpoorGromekchoketodeath.Hegrabbedholdofthegirlandswungherlikeaclubatthethreemenbarring
hiswaytothelargewindowontheothersideoftheroom.Theylethimgobecauseitwaskeepinghimawayfromthedoorthatmattered.Anywhereelsehemovedwasatrap–sotheylethimbackawaytothewindowandshapeduptosurroundhimforthelasttime.Earlier,desperationandalackofanythingtolosehadgiventhemarecklesscouragebut
nownoneofthemwantedtogettheirneckbrokenwhenmorecautionwouldseethistoitsend.Sotheygavehimmoretimetobackawaythantheymightotherwisehavedone.‘Quickly,’saidCale,onthe
vergeoffaintingasthebloodswirledinhisears.Hefeltasifhisverybrainswouldburst.Mostofthemdidn’thearhim.Meatyardmadehiswaytothe
windowandthelunaticsstoodandwatched.Hewas,afterall,goingnowhere.Thewindowwasnaileddownbutitwasn’tbarredbecauseitwasonthefourthfloorandsomesixtyfeetfromtheground.Meatyardknewthis,buthealsoknew,fromhisvoluntaryeffortstogetonGromek’sgoodsidebycleaningtheward,thattherewasaropeanchoredtothe
wallandcoiledoutofthewaybehindanoldtallboycupboard.Ithadbeenputtheremanyyearsbeforeasacheapwayofescapingafire.Thelunaticswatchedhim
backofftowardsthewindow,thenstirredashereachedbehindthetallboyandpulledoutthelongrope.Ittookthemafewsecondstorealizewhathewasgoingtodoandthentheymovedforward
together.Meatyardpulledthetallboyoverwithanenormouscrashand,holdingontotheendoftherope,herantothewindow,turninghisbackatthelastmoment.Theentireframe,muchofitrotten,gavewayandMeatyardvanishedintothenight,theropetrailingbehindhim.Itsnappedtightforasecondthenitwentloose.Nevertested,theropewas
tooshort.TheresultwasthatMeatyard,afterfallingheadlongthroughtheair,hadcometoajerkingstoptwentyfeetabovetheground,flinginghimintoatreewhichbrokethefallthatotherwisemighthavekilledhim.Goodluck,viciousnerveandimmensephysicalstrengthsawMeatyardlimpingoffpainfullytofreedom.Calewatchedfromtheshattered
windowasMeatyardmergedintothedarkness.Heturnedawayandcalledthelunaticstohim.‘Whathappenedtonight
wasthatthetwoofthembroughtthegirlhereandgotintoafightoverher.Isn’tthatright?’Calesaid.Thegirlnodded.‘MeatyardkilledGromek
andwhenyoutriedtotakeholdofhimhesmashed
throughthewindow–andthat’sallyouknow.NoweachoneofyouisgoingtowalkpastmeandrepeatwhatIjustsaid.Andifyougetitwrong,noworlater,youwon’tneedKevinMeatyardtochewoffyourplumsandshovethemupyourwinker.’
Whilethewell-intentionedpeoplewhorantheasylumwereshockedattheterrible
violenceofthedeathofHeadmanNurseGromek,brutalattacksbyderangedpatientswerenotunknown.WhatcausedmoreshockwasthatGromekwasabusinghispatientsinsucharevoltingmanner.Patientswhocouldpayfortheirtreatment–asmallnumberthatshouldhaveincludedCale–weretakenintotheasyluminordertoprovidemoneytopayfor
thecareforthosewhocouldnot.ItwasaskindlyaplaceassuchaninstitutioncanreasonablyhopetobeandGromekhadbeenrightlyregarded,atleastuntilthearrivalofKevinMeatyard,asanuninspiredbuttrustworthyoverseer.Cale’swarningtothelunaticstosticktothestoryhehadoutlinedtaughthimsubsequentlytobemorecarefulwhenmakingjokesto
peoplehedidnotknow,particularlythosewhowerenotquiterightintheheadandwhowerepronetodealwiththeterribleconfusionthatexistedintheirmindsbygraspingwithagripofironontoanythingtheyweretoldwithaclearandunambiguousdetermination.Soitwasthattheunusualrepetitionoflearntphrasesabouttheincidentbegantomakethe
superintendentssuspicious.Initiallythestoryhadbeengenerallyaccepted–afterall,GromekhadrapedanumberoffemalepatientswiththehelpofKevinMeatyardandhehadbeenmurderedandthepersonaccusedhadrunawayandinadesperatemanner–butnowtheywerepreparingtomineforthetruthandwouldundoubtedlyhavesucceededinfindingoutwhat
hadreallyhappenedhadnoteventsturnedinCale’sfavour.VagueHenriandIdrisPukkearrivedexpectingtofindhimlyinginthecomfortforwhichthey’dpaidandhopinghewasonthewaytobeingcured.‘Mustyoualways,’said
IdrisPukketoCalewhenhewasbroughtdowntotheprivateroomkeptsolelyforimportantvisitors,‘prove
yourdetractorssounerringintheirviewthatwhereveryougocalamitiesfollow?’‘And,’saidVagueHenri,
‘anotherfuneral.’‘Andhowis,’saidCaleto
VagueHenri,‘oneofGod’sgreatestmistakes?’‘Speakforyourself,’
repliedVagueHenri.Caleresentfullyexplained
thatnotonlyhadhegonetohumiliatingextremestoavoid
trouble,hehadbeentoosicktodoanythingevenifhehadwantedto.ThedetailsofMeatyard’sbullyinghekepttohimself.Hegavethemadetailed
accountofthetruth,thelieshehadmadeeveryonetelltocoveritupaswellasthepeculiarbadluckthathadputhiminthelunaticwardinthefirstplace.IdrisPukkewentofftoseethenewlyappointed
Directoroftheasylumandgaveherhellaboutthetreatmentgiventosuchanimportantperson.Whatkindofinstitutionwassherunning?he’dasked,andotherrhetoricalquestionsofthatsort.Inashorttimehehadgougedapromisefromhertoendtheinvestigationintotheeventsofthatnight,andtohaveCalebroughtunderthepersonaldailycare
oftheirmostskilledminddoctorandatnoextraexpense.IdrisPukkedemandedandreceivedafurtherpromisetocutthefeesforCale’streatmentinhalf.Bynomeansallofhis
angerwassimulated.Hehadnotexpectedacure,giventhatCale’scollapsehadbeensogreat,buthe’dhopedforanimprovementbothbecauseofhisgreataffectionforthe
boybutalsobecausehewantedtoworkwithCaleonamuchgranderlong-termstrategyfordealingwiththeRedeemers.ButCalecouldnotevenspeakforlongwithoutpausingtorestandgatherhisthoughts:andbesides,therewasthedreadfullookofhim.WhenCalegaveawayinpassingthattodaywasanunusuallygoodday,IdrisPukkerealized
thatthehelptheydesperatelyneededfromCalemightcometoolate,ifitcameatall.IdrisPukkedemandedthe
DirectorsummontheminddoctorwhowastotakecareofCalesothathecouldputhismindatrestastohisquality.TheDirector,knowingthatIdrisPukkehadtoleavethenextday,liedthatthedoctorwasawayon
retreatandwouldnotreturnforanotherthreedays.‘She’sananomist,’saidthe
Director.‘I’mnotfamiliarwiththe
term.’‘Shetreatsanomie,
diseasesofthesoul,bytalking,sometimesforhoursadayandformanymonths.Patientscallitthetalkingcure.’Hecouldbereassured,saidtheDirector,thatshewas
ahealerofuncommonskillandshehadmadeheadwaywitheventhemostintractablecases.Althoughhewasnotsure
hebelievedherabouttheconvenient‘retreat’,IdrisPukkecouldsensethesincerityoftheDirector’sadmirationforthesupposedlyabsentwoman.Hetookmorehopefromthis,becausehewantedittobetrue,thanhis
pessimisticnaturewouldnormallyallow.Thatnaturewouldhavereasserteditselfinfullmeasurewhen,fiveminutesafterhelefttoreturntoCale,therewasaknockontheDirector’sdoorwhichwasopenedevenbeforeshecouldsay‘comein’.Thewomanwhoentered,ifitwasawoman,wasofaverycuriousappearanceandholdinginherlefthand
somethingsostrangethatnotevenIdrisPukke,withallhismanyexperiencesofthesingularandthefantastical,hadseenanythinglikeit.
5
KevinMeatyardwasunwell.Hehadabadlysprainedankle,adislocatedshoulder,alargecutontheleftsideofhisheadandassortedwelts,cricksandtears.Butnoneofthemwouldkillhim.Itwas
theknifeinhisupperchestthatwoulddothat.TheIslandofCypruswasnotanislandatallbutalargeisthmusthatballoonedoutintotheWoodenSea.Itssystemofparochialjusticeextendedfiftymilesintothehinterlandsothatevensmallvillageshadaspecialconstable–evenifhewasonlytheblacksmith.Meatyardhadeveryreasontobelievehewouldbefollowed
althoughhealsorealizeditwouldbetooexpensiveanddifficulttokeephalfadozenmenontheroadforlong.Theproblemforhimwasthatheknewhemuststayawayfromanyplacewherehecouldgetthekniferemovedandthewoundcleaned.Intheend,hetrustedinhisconstitutiontokeephimalivelongenoughtogetsofarawaythatnoonewouldhaveheardofhim.So
itwasthatwhileKevinMeatyardwastryingtoleaveCyprusonaroadoutofthewayofnosystrangers,theTwoTrevorsweretryingtoenterCyprusonaroadoutofthewayofnosystrangers.SoitwaslessofacoincidencethanitmighthavebeenwhenthetwoassassinscameacrossKevinMeatyardlyinginaheapbesideasmallpond.Forobviousreasons,whileoutin
thebunduevenpeopleverymuchlessexperiencedinwickednessthantheTwoTrevorsregardedabodylyingintheroadassomethingitwouldbewisetopassbyontheothersideof.Ontheotherhand,theyandtheiranimalswereparched.Havingsatisfiedthemselvesitwasnotatrap(andwhoknewmoreaboutbushwhackingthantheydid?)Trevor
Lugavoythrewalargerockatthelumpilypronebodyand,gettingonlyafaintgroaninresponse,decidedthatwhateverdangertherewascouldbeavoidedbykeepingacloseeyeandnottouchinghim.Afewminuteslater,with
thehorsesstillslurpingthedeliciouslysweetwater,Kevinstirredandawkwardlygottohisfeet,watched
carefullybythetwomen.Hestartedtowalkovertothepondtogetadrinkbut,stillunsteadyandweak,hecollapsedwithsuchaheftythuditmadebothTrevorswince.Itmightbethoughtthat
giventheirbloodyprofessiontheTwoTrevorsweremenwithoutcompassion.Butwhileitwascertainlythecasethattheywerenonicerthan
otherpeople,neither,exceptwhentheywerebeingpaidtokillyou,weretheyverymuchworse.Thiswasparticularlytruetheoldertheygotandthemoresuperstitious.Theywerebeginningtowonderifafewactsofgenerositymightbeofsomehelpifitturnedoutthatonedaytheremightbeaneternalactofreckoning–thoughtheybothknewintheirheartofheartsthatthey
wouldhavetorescueanepicnumberofchildrenfromavastnumberofburningbuildingstoweighmuchinthebalanceafteralltheevildeedsthey’dbeenresponsiblefor.Still,itwasmean-spiritedtoleaveaclearlywoundedmanlyingwithinafewfeetofadesperatelyneededdrinkofwater.Theyfriskedhim,thenwokehimupandgavehimadrinkfromoneoftheir
owncups.‘Thanks,’saidatruly
gratefulKevin,afterdowningfivestraightcupsofwhatfeltlikelifeitself.‘Look,JohnSmith,’Kevin
had,ofcourse,giventhemafalsename.‘You’renotgoingtomakeittoDrayton–it’sfiftymilesaway,roughgoingtoo.That,’henoddedatthebrokenbladeinMeatyard’schest,‘comesoutnoworwe
loanyouaspadeandyoucanstartdigging.’‘What’saspade?’‘Animplement,’said
TrevorLugavoy,‘thatcanbeusedfordiggingholesseveralfeetdeepandsixfootlong.’‘Youcandoit?’saida
doubtfulKevin.‘Takethisoutwithoutkillingme?’‘Prettyfargone,boy–I’d
sayseventy/thirty.’‘For?’
‘Against.’ThisletoutofKevinwhat
littleairwasleft.‘D’youthinkthere’dbea
propersurgeoninDrayton?’‘Youaren’tgoingtogetto
Drayton.Andevenifyoudid,whichyouwon’t,he’llbethelocalbarber.Andhe’llwantpaying.Andsomequestionswillbeasked.Haveyougotanymoney?Haveyougotanyanswers?’
BynowtheTwoTrevorswerebeginningtofeeltheirpatiencewaneinthefaceofKevin’slackofgratitude.‘Mygenerousfriendhere
isasgoodasyou’llgetwithintwohundredmiles.You’reluckytohavehim.Andyoudon’thavemuchchoice.Ifyouwanttostayoutofheaven,I’ddosomegrovelling.’Thementionofheaven
concentratedKevin’smindandhemadeagoodfistofapologizingtothenowmiffedTrevorLugavoy.Afterwhich,Lugavoygotonwithit.Infact,hecouldhaveearnedafairlivingasasurgeon.Movedtobecomeskilledforpracticalreasons,healsotookprideinhisabilityandhadpaidfortuitionfromRedeemersurgeonsconsideredbyallto
bethebest,notthatthiswassayingmuch.HehadpaidahighpriceforthemedicalplierswithwhichhegraspedthelittlethatwasleftofthebladestickingoutofMeatyard’schest.Itwasoutinamoment,accompaniedonlybyahideousscreamofagony.Worsewastocome,asit
wasclearfromthetwopiecesmissingfromthebladethat
therewasmoretodo.‘Don’tmoveorIwon’t
answerfortheconsequences.’Meatyardwasskilledat
handingoutpain,buthecouldtakeit,too.‘Welldone,’saidTrevor
Lugavoy,whowas,afterfiveminutesdiggingaboutinthewoundthatmusthavefeltlikefivedays,reassuredthattherewasnothingleftbehind.‘That’swhatkillsyou,’he
saidtothetraumatizedMeatyard.Hecleanedthewoundwithseveralgallonsofwaterandbegantopouramixtureofhoneyandlavender,calendulaandpowderedmyrrh.Kovtun,seeinghewasabouttousetheointment,pulledLugavoytoonesideandpointedoutthatitwasexpensiveandtheymightverywellneeditthemselves.Lugavoyagreed
inprinciplebutpointedoutthatalltheireffortswouldbefornothingifthewoundgotinfected–whichitwould.‘Itakeprideinmywork.
WhatcanIsay?Besides,heshowedagooddealofcourage.I’dhavescreamedlouder.Hedeservesabitofgenerosity.’Sothatwasthat.Theydecidedtostayandwatchoverhiminthenight;nextmorningtheylefthim
withsomerations(notmuch,atKovtun’sinsistence)andwereontheirway.Thoughjustbeforetheyleft,athoughtoccurredtoKovtun.‘YouheardofthePriory?’
hesaidtoKevin.FortunatelyforMeatyard
hisexpressionofalarmcouldeasilybeturnedintooneofpain.‘No,sorry,’saidtheungratefulboyandatthattheTwoTrevorsweregone.Two
minuteslaterLugavoywasback.Hedroppedalargeblockcoveredinwaxedpaper,animpulsiveadditiontotherationsthey’dalreadylefthim.‘Makesure,’hesaidto
Kevin,‘youeataquarterofthisaday.It’sgoodstufffood-wisethoughittasteslikedog-shit.TheRedeemerscallitDeadMen’sFeet.There’sanaddressinside.Ifyoulive,
gothereandthey’llgiveyouwork.TellthemTrevorLugavoysentyou–andnothingelse,y’hear?’Ifyou’daskedTrevor
Lugavoywhethervirtuewasrewardedhewouldhavebeenbothsurprisedandamused,notbecausehewasacynic(heregardedhimselfashavingbeenthroughallthat)butratherthatexperiencehadledhimnottoseetheworld
asaplaceofbalance.Onthisoccasion,however,whilereturningtoensurethatKevinMeatyardhadenoughnourishingfoodtogivehimthebestchanceofsurvival,hiskindnesswasrewarded:henoticedthathewasbeingwatchedfromahillaboutthreehundredyardsaway.AsheturnedbacktojoinTrevorKovtunhewasprettysureheknewwhoitwas.Hecaught
upwithKovtunratherquickerthanheexpectedto–Kovtunhaddismountedandwasonallfourswithhisbeltundone,puttingtwofingersdownhisthroattryingtomakehimselfsick.Afterafewmoreunpleasantsoundingtries,hesucceeded.Therewasbloodinhisvomit.‘Anybetter?’‘Abit.’‘We’rebeingfollowed.’
‘Damn,buggery,bollocksandbullshit,’saidCadburyashesatdownhalfamilefromtheTwoTrevors.‘Theyknowwe’refollowingthem.’CadburylookedatthegirlwhohadbeenwaitingforhimatthebottomofthehillwhilehewasspyingonTrevorLugavoy.Behindher,setapart,wereadozendisagreeable-lookingmen.‘Youletthemspotyou,’
saidthegirl.Shewasastringy-lookingthing,butitwasthekindofstringthatyoucouldrelyontotakeahardstrain,withanoddface–hadyouseenitinapaintingyouwouldhavecalleditunderdrawn.Itseemedtohavesomethingmissing,anoseorapairoflips,exceptthattheywereallthere.‘Youthinkyoucandoany
better,bemyguest.’
‘It’syourjob,notmine.’‘Whenitcomestotracking
peopleasgoodasthosetwoyoucan’tgettoocloseandyoucan’tgettoofaraway.It’sjustbadluck.’‘Idon’tbelieveinluck.’‘That’sbecauseyou’rea
kiddywinkanddon’tknowyourarsefromyourelbow.’‘You’llseewhatIknow.
Anintelligentheartacquiresknowledge,andtheearofthe
wiseseeksit.’‘WillI?Howhair-raising.’Butforallhismockeryhe
foundthegirl’spresencedecidedlycreepy,notleastbecauseshewasalwaysquotingfromsomereligioustractthathad,apparently,anopiniononeverything.Butshespoketheseproverbsandsayingsanoddway,sothatyoucouldn’tmakeoutwhatshewasdrivingatexactly.
Wasshetryingtomakehimuneasy?Hehadgoodreasontobejumpy.Threedaysearlier,Kitty
theHarehadcalledhimintodiscusswhatwastobedoneabouttheTwoTrevorsandtheirsearchforCale,inthelightofthecertaintythattherewasonlyonethingtheTwoTrevorsdidwithanyonetheywerelookingforoncetheyfoundthem.
‘Doyouknowwho’spayingthem?’Cadburyhadasked.‘TheRedeemers,
probably,’Kittycooed.‘Spyingthingsoutisnotreallyintheirgift.Fanaticsfindithardtoblendin,asthedisgracefullyillegalbutentirelyjustifiedhangingorderedbyZogsoclearlyestablished.ButitcouldbetheLaconics.’Itwasamatter
ofpolicyaswellasamusementtoKittynevertogiveacompletelyunambiguousanswer.‘They’llstruggletorecoverfromtheinjuryhedidtotheirnumbers.NeithercouldyouruleoutSolomonSolomon’sfamily.Hehasatalentforantagonizingpeople.’‘Youcouldsaythesame
aboutus.’‘Indeedyoucould,
Cadbury.’‘Youdon’tthinkhe’stoo
muchtrouble?’‘Oh,indeedIdo,’replied
Kitty.‘Butthat’sthewayitiswiththeyoung.It’saquestionofpossibilities.HiscapacityforruinneedsshapingandI’dverymuchratherbebehindhimthaninfrontofhim.Buttheremayeasilycomeatimewhenthatwillnotbethecase.You
mightwanttokeepthatinmind.’Thedooropenedand
Kitty’sstewardenteredwithatray.‘Ah,’saidKitty,‘tea.The
cupthatcheersbutnotinebriates.’Thestewardlaidthetable
withcupsandsaucers,platesofhamsandwiches,seedcake,andbiccieswithcustardthenleftwithoutawordorabow.
Thetwoofthemstaredatthetablebutnotbecauseofthetreatsonoffer.‘Youwillhavenoticed,no
doubt,Cadbury,thetable’slaidforthree.’‘Ihad,yes.’‘There’ssomeoneIwant
youtomeet.AyoungpersonI’dlikeyoutokeepaneyeon.Giveherthebenefitofyourexperience.’Hemovedtowardthedoorandcalled
out,‘Mydear!’AmomentandthenagirlofaroundtwentyyearsappearedandgaveCadburythemostdreadfulfright.Thesensethatyouhaveseenaghostfromthepastisdisturbingtoanyone,butimaginehowmuchworseitiswhenyouweretheoneresponsibleforthatghostliness.ThelasttimeCadburyhadseenherwaswhiletheyhadbothbeen
spyingonCaleatTreetops–achorethathadfinishedwithhimputtinganarrowinherback.IntheperpetualgloomrequiredbyKittytheHaretoshieldhisso-sensitiveeyes,ittookhimafewmomentstorealizethatthiswasnotthelateJenniferPlunkettnorhertwinbutayoungerthoughdisturbinglysimilarrelative.Itwasn’tjustherlooksthatgavethesimilaritybutthe
samedisfiguringblanknessofexpression.‘MeetDanielCadbury,my
lover.’Thispeculiarendearmentwasaddressedtothegirlandwasmerelyanalternativeto‘mydear’butdeliberatelymoredisconcerting.‘Heandyoursisterwereoldfriendsandoftenworkedsidebyside.Daniel,thisisDeidrePlunkettwho’scometoworkwithus
andshareherveryconsiderableskills.’Eventhoughherealized
hismistakequicklyenough,therewasreasonforCadburystilltobeunnerved:thesurvivingrelativesofpeopleyouhadmurderedweregenerallybestavoided.Kittyhadinsistedthat
CadburybringDeidrewithhimintheattempttotrackdowntheTwoTrevors:‘Take
herunderyourwing,Cadbury,’he’dsaid.ButthequestionforCadburywaswhatkindofmockerywasinvolvedhere.JenniferPlunketthadbeenamurderousnutcasewho,withouteverspeakingtotheboy,hadconceivedadeeppassionforCaleasshespentdayswatchinghimswimmingnakedinthelakesaroundTreetops.Calehadlaughed
andshoutedforjoyforthefirsttimeinhislifeasheswamandfishedandatethewonderfulfoodpreparedbyIdrisPukke,andsanghorriblyout-of-tunegarbledversionsofthesongshe’dpickedupwhilehewasinMemphis:Weighapieinthesky.Theantsaremyfriends.She’sgotfloppyears,She’sgotfloppyears.Jenniferhadbeen
convincedthatKittymeantCaleharm:thiswasnotthecase,infact,oratleastprobablynotthecase.JenniferhadtriedtostabCadburyinabidtoprotectherbelovedandwhenshefailedhadruntowardstheastonishedCalescreamingbluemurder.ItwasatthispointthatCadburyhadputanarrowinherback.Whatchoicedidhehave?
Afterwards,hehaddecideditmightbebetterifhetoldKittythatCalewasresponsible,startledintoactionbythesuddenappearanceofamurderousscreamingharpy.‘Honestyisthebestpolicy’maynotbeavirtuousguideline(themanwhobelievesthathonestyisthebestpolicyisnotanhonestman)butitwasoneheshouldhavefollowedinthis
instance.NotonlywashenowleftwiththeproblemofwhattodoaboutDeidrePlunkett,butalsoofworkingoutwhetherhersuddenappearancewasjustacoincidenceorKitty’srevengeforhavingbeenliedto.Ifthelatter,thequestionwaswhatsortoflessonhisemployerhadinmind.Atanyrate,hetookDeidre
withhimtonegotiatewiththe
TwoTrevors.Ifthingswentfat-fingered,whichtheyeasilymight,therewasachancetheTrevorsmightsolvetheproblemforhim.Ontheotherhand,theymightsolveallhisproblemspermanently.‘You’recomingwithme,
keepyourcake-holeshutanddon’tmakeanysuddenmoves.’‘You’venocalltotalkto
melikethat.’Cadburydidn’tbotherto
reply.‘Therestofyou,’hesaidto
theothers.‘Keepbackbutincallingdistance.’TheyignoredKevin
Meatyardontheirwaypast,itbeingclearhewasn’tgoingtobeanytroublegiventhestatehewasin,andinafewminutestheycaughtupwiththeTwoTrevors.
‘Canwetalk?’shoutedCadburyfrombehindatree.Lugavoynoddedthetwoof
themforward.‘That’sfarenough.Whatdoyouwant?’‘KittytheHarethinks
there’sbeenamisunderstandingandhe’dliketoresolveit.’‘Consideritresolved.’‘He’dliketoresolveit
personally.’‘We’llbesuretodropin
nexttimewe’repassing.’‘Yourfriendlooksabit
peaky.’Hewas,infact,thecolour
ofhalf-dryputty.‘He’lllive.’‘I’mnotsureyou’reright
aboutthat.’‘Who’syourskinny
friend?’Lugavoyasked.‘Thisyoungladyisamost
deadlyperson.I’dshowhermorerespect.’
‘Youlookfamiliar,sonny.’‘Keepgoing,mister,’said
Deidre,‘andyou’llbelaughingontheothersideofyourface.’‘Myapologies,butshe’s
veryyounganddoesn’tknowanybetter.’‘Don’tbeapologizingfor
me,’saidDeidre.Cadburyraisedhis
eyebrowsasiftosay,‘Whatcanyoudo?’
‘AsIseeit,Trevor,you’renotgoingtomakeittowhereveryouwereplanningtogosothequestionofyourintentionscomingintoconflictwithKittytheHare’sinterestsdoesn’tapplyfortheforeseeablefuture.Ifyouwantyourpartnertolive,Idon’treallyseewhattheproblemis.’‘What’stostopyoukilling
usaswesleep?’
‘Youshouldn’tjudgeothersbyyourownlowstandards.’Trevorlaughed.‘Point
taken.ButstillIworry.’‘WhatcanIsay?Except
thatit’snotinKittytheHare’smindtodoso.’‘Andwhatisinhismind?’‘Whydon’tyoucomeback
toSpanishLeedsandaskhim?’‘Sohedoesn’ttrustyou
enoughtotellyou?’‘Areyoutryingtohurtmy
feelings?I’mtouched.ThethingisthatwhileKittytheHarehasconsiderablerespectforyouboth,itsohappensyou’reonapaththatbringsyourinterestsintoconflictwithhis.Heprefershisowninterests.’‘Fairenough.’‘I’mgladthatyouthinkso.
Areweagreed?’
‘Yes.’‘Wehavekaolin.That
shouldmakehimfeelbetter.’‘Thanks.’CadburygesturedtoDeidre
Plunkett.Shebroughtoutasmallflaskfromhersaddlebagand,gettingdown,walkedovertoKovtun.‘Takeaneighth,’shesaid.
Cadburyputtwofingersinhismouthandletoutawhistlesoshrillitmade
Lugavoyflinch.Inresponsethedozenmenwaitingoverthehillemergedinthreestaggeredsetsoffourandspreadoutwide.‘Nasty-lookingbunch,’
saidLugavoy.‘Butsomeoneknowswhatthey’redoing.’Theskilledapproach-work
hesoadmiredwasbeingdirectedbyKleist;thevillainous-lookingtypeshewascontrollingwereKlephts,
andsoratherlessdangerousthantheyappeared.Cadburyhadhiredtheminahurrybecausesomanyofhisusualthugshadbeenstruckdownwiththesquits,infactthesametyphoidfromwhichTrevorKovtunwassufferingandfromthesamesourceinawaterpumpinthecentreofSpanishLeeds.Theriseinthenumberofpeopletakingrefugethereontherumours
ofawarwiththeRedeemerswasalreadyexactingaprice.ItwasallveryunsatisfactorybuttheKlephtsdidlookthepartandtheyhadclearlyfoughtagainsttheRedeemersandwerestillalive–nomeanrecommendation.AboutKleistheknewnothing–hewasnotaKlephtbutheseemedalwaystohavetheearoftheKlephtgangmasterwho,forsomereason,was
calledDog-End.Infact,Kleistwasmostlyinchargebutitwasthoughtbestnottohaveaboyseentobetheirleader.Ontheirwaybacktheyhad
topassbyKevinMeatyard.‘Canwetakehimwithus?’
saidLugavoy.‘Notenoughhorses.
Besides,Idon’tlikethelookofhim.’CadburysignalledtoKleist,whowasnearest.
‘What’syourname,son?’‘Kleist.’‘Givehimsomefood–
enoughforfourdaysnotmore.’KevinhadalreadyhiddentherationsgivenhimbytheTwoTrevors.KleistapproachedKevin
slowly:hedidn’tlikethelookofhimeither.‘Allright?’hesaidto
Kevin,ashegotdownandstartedriflingtheration
saddlebagtoseewhatwasleastpalatableandsobestforgivingaway–thestalerbread,theharderpiecesofcheese.‘Gotasmoke?’said
Meatyard.‘No.’Kleistsetoutwhatcould
onlybedescribedasanungenerousinterpretationoffourdays’worthofediblesontoasquareofcloth.
‘Whereyoufrom?’askedKleist.‘Noneofyourfucking
business.’Kleist’sexpressiondidnot
change.Hestoodup,lookedatMeatyardandthenkickedsandalloverthefoodhe’djustlaidout.Neitherofthemsaidanything.Kleistgotonhishorseandlefttocatchupwiththeothers.
6
Lifeislikeapondintowhichanidlechilddropsapebbleandfromthatacttheripplesspreadoutwards.Wrong.Lifeisastreamandnotastreaminspate,justanordinarypiddlingsortofstreamwith
itsroutineeddies,whirlsandno-accountvortices.Butthevortexandtherippleuncoveraroot,andthenanother,andthentheyunderminethebankandthetreebythestreamfallsdownacrossthestreamanddivertsthewaterandvillagerscometofindoutwhathashappenedtotheirsupplyandfindthecoalunearthedbythefallingtreeandminerscome,andwhores
toservetheminersandmentomanagethewhoresandatownoftentsandmudbecomesaplaceofwoodandmud,thenbricksandmud,thencobblestopavethestreet,thenthelawarrivestowalkthecobblesthatpavethestreets,thenthecoalgivesoutbutthetownlivesonoritdiesaway.Andallbecauseofapiddlingstreamanditspiddlingwhirlsandvortices.
Andsoitiswiththelifeofmen,drivenbythemany-fingeredhandoftheinvisible.Thevisitthatwouldhave
broughtdeathtoThomasCaleatthehandoftheTwoTrevorswasstalledbyadrinkofwaterfromataintedwell,itsmessengersherdedbacktowheretheycamefrombyalong-timefriendwhocouldn’treallycarelesswhetherhelivedordied,backtoacity
wherethewifeofthelong-timecarelessfriendwaswanderingthestreetswithhernewborngirl,thinkingherhusbanddeadwhowasnowreturningtowardsherandwho,inafewdays,wouldpassnomorethanthirtyyardsfromherinthegreatcrowdsthatnowcrushedinsidethewallsofSpanishLeeds.Overandagaintheirpathswouldnearlycrossbutforthelittle
whirlsandvorticespullingthemafractionthiswayandthenafractionthat.Sometimesweseeacloud
that’sdragonish,sometimeslionish,sometimesverylikeawhale,butallthemostcheerfulphilosophersagreethateventheblackestcloudhasasilverlining.AndduringthedaysandnightsofwretchednesswhenKevinMeatyardruled,Cale
discoveredthattheoldwayshehadofdealingwithsufferingcamebacktohim.IntheSanctuaryhehadlearnedtowithdrawinsidehishead,vanishtootherplacesinhismind,placesofwarmthandfoodandmarvellousthings–angelswithwingswhodidwhateveryousaid,talkingdogs,adventureswithoutpain,evendeathwithouttearsandsudden
blissfulresurrections,peaceandquietandnooneanywherenear.Nowforacoupleofhoursadayhecoulddothesamewhentheretchingandthemadnessgavehimsomeelbowroom.Daydreamscametohisdefence;forminutesatatimehefoundhimselfbackamongthelakesatTreetops,swimminginthecoolwaters,pickingsignalcrabsoutofthe
streams,thinkingaboutthewordhe’dfoundonedayforthesoundofwateronsmallstonesashepulledthecrabsapartandatethemrawwiththetopsofwildgarlic,justthewayIdrisPukkehadshownhim.Andthenatnight,asthelong-wingedbugsinthewoodmadetheirwonderfulpulsatingracket,theywouldtalkandtalkandhe’dlapitup,sittingonone
ofthechairsthatwerealmostlikebedsasIdrisPukkepouredhimalightaleandhandedouttheaccumulatedwisdomofhalfacentury,insight,ashefrequentlypointedout,youcouldn’tbuyatanyprice.‘Peopletreatthepresent
momentasifitisjustastoppingpointonthewaytosomegreatgoalthatwillhappeninthefuture,andthen
theyaresurprisedthatthelongdaycloses;theylookbackontheirlifeandseethatthethingstheyletgobysounregarded,thesmallpleasurestheydismissedsoeasilywereinfactthetruesignificanceoftheirlives–allthetimethesethingswerethegreatandwonderfulsuccessesandpurposeoftheirexistence.’ThenhewouldpourCale
anotherquarterpint,nottoomuch.‘Allutopiasaretheworkof
cretinsandthewell-intentionedpeoplewhoworktowardsthefoundationofabetterfuturearehalf-wits.Imaginetheheaven-on-earthwhereturkeysflyaroundready-roastedandperfectloversfindperfectlovewithonlyalittlesatisfactorydelayandlivehappilyeverafter.In
suchaplace,menandwomenwoulddieofboredomorhangthemselvesindespair,well-temperedmenwouldfightandkilltoberelievedofthehorrorsofcontentment.Prettysoonthisutopiawouldcontainmoresufferingthannatureinflictsonusasitis.’‘YousoundlikeBosco.’‘Notso.Hewantstowipe
catsfromthefaceoftheearthbecausetheyliketoeatfish
andcatchbirds.Youmightaswellwishforatimewhenthelionwillliedownwiththelamb.Butyou’rehalfright,inaway.IagreewithBoscouptoapoint–it’struethatthisworldishell.ButwhileI,too,amappalledbyhumanityasagrosscaricatureIalsofeelsorryforit:inthishideousexistencesofullofsuffering,weareatoneandthesametimethetormentedsoulsin
hellandthedevilsdoingthetormenting.Wearefellowsufferers,sothemostnecessaryqualitiestopossessaretolerance,patience,forbearanceandcharity.Weallneedforgivenessandsowealloweit.Forgiveusourtrespassesasweforgivethosewhotrespassagainstus.Thesearevirtues,youngman,inwhich,andImeanthiskindly,youaresorely
lacking.’Atthislastoffering,Cale
pretendedtobeasleep,accompaniedbyexaggeratedsnores.Butdriftingintothepast
wasaplacefulloftraps.HewantedtorememberthefirsttimehehadseenArbellnaked–blissitwastobealivethatnight.Butthepleasureandpain,loveandanger,livedtoomuchcheek
byjowlforthistotakehimintoanotherworld.Bettertosticktowonderfulmeals,tomemoriesofteasingVagueHenriabouttheenormoussizeofhishead,oflisteningtoIdrisPukkeandgettingthelastwordwitheveryone.Butalsohewouldthinkandarguewithhimselfandtrytoworkoutwhathereallyknew:thattheworldwaslikeastreamfullofgyrations,twirlsand
weedyentanglements,andthatwhereveryouwentthewateralwaysleakedthroughyourfingers.Theroomtheyhadnow
givenhimwassimpleenough:areasonablycomfortablebed,achairandatable,awindowthatlookedoutoverapleasantgardenfullofslenderelmtrees.Ithadtwoluxuries:hesleptonhisownandhehadakeyto
lockhimselfinandeveryoneelseout.They’dbeenunwillingtoprovideoneatfirstbuthehadinsistedwithadegreeofvaguemenaceand,havingaskedtheDirectorofthePriory,theyhadwarilygivenhimwhathewanted.Therewasalighttapon
thedoor.Helookedthroughasmallholehehaddrilledthroughthethinnestpartofthedoorand,satisfied,he
unlockeditwithaquicktwistandstoodwellback.Afterall,youneverknew.Suspicious,thePriory
servantstayedwherehewas.‘Thereseems,’hesaid,‘to
beaholeinthedoor.’‘ItwaslikethatwhenIgot
here.’‘SisterWrayhasaskedto
seeyou.’‘Who?’‘Ibelieveshehasbeen
askedbytheDirectortoinvestigateyourcase.Sheisveryhighlyrespected.’Calewantedtoaskmore
questionsbutasisoftenthecasewithawkwardpeoplehedidnotliketoappearignoranttosomeonewhoclearlydislikedhim–andforgoodreason,asthisservantwastheverypersonCalehadmenacedabouthavingthekey.‘Peoplewithcharm,’
IdrisPukkehadoncesaidtohim,‘cangetotherstosayyeswithoutevenaskingthequestion.Havingarealtalentforcharmismostcorrupting.Butdon’tworry,’headded,‘that’snotsomethingyou’lleverhavetoworryabout.’‘I’lltakeyoutohernow,’
saidtheservant.‘ThenI’llseeabouttheholeinthedoor.’‘Don’tbother.Itcreatesa
nicebreeze.’Heputonhisshoesand
theyleft.Theservantwassurprisedtosee,givenallthefusshehadmade,thattheobnoxiousyoungmandidnotbothertolockthedoorbehindhim.ButaslongashewasnotinthereCalecouldn’tcarelesswhoelsewas.Insilencetheywalked
throughthePriory.Someofitwasbuiltrecently,otherparts
wereolder,otherpartsolderstill.Thereweretallandgrim-lookingbuildingswithgargoylesgrimacingfromthewalls,thenasuddenchangetotheelegantandwell-proportioned,mellowstonestructureswithlargewindowsofirregularglassthatinonepiecereflectedtheskyandinanotherthegrass,sovariousandchangeablethatthebuildingseemedtobealive
inside.Eventually,throughpassagesingreatwalls,thesilentpairemergedintoacourtyardmorepleasinginitsscaleandengagingsimplicitythananythingCalehadseeneveninMemphis.Theservantledhimthroughanarchanduptwoflightsofstairs.Eachlandinghadadoorinthickblackoaktoeithersideofthestaircase.Hestoppedoutsideoneonthe
PARTTWOLestweshouldseewhereweare,Lostinahauntedwood,ChildrenafraidofthenightWhohaveneverbeenhappyorgood.W.H.Auden,‘September1,1939’
7
‘Comein.’Itwasasoftandattractivewelcome.Theservantopenedthedoorandstoodback,usheringCaleforward.‘I’llbebackinanhourexactly,’hesaidandpulledthedoorshut.
ThereweretwolargewindowstoCale’sright,whichfloodedtheroomwithlight,andatthefarside,sittingbythefireinahighbackedchairthatlookedcomfortableenoughtolivein,wasatallwoman.EvensittingdownCalecouldseeshewasmorethansixfoottall,somewhattallerthanCalehimself.SisterWraywascoveredfromheadto
footinwhatlookedlikeblackcotton.Evenhereyeswerecoveredwithathinstripofmaterialinwhichtherewerenumeroussmallholestoallowhertosee.Strangeasallthiswas,therewassomethingmuchstranger:inherrighthandandrestingonherlapwassomesortofdoll.HadoneofthechildreninMemphisbeenholdingithewouldnothavenoticed–the
Materazzigirlsoftenhaddollsthatwerespectacularlysplendidtobehold,withmadlyexpensivecostumesforeverykindofoccasionfromamarriagetoteawiththeDuke.Thisdollwasratherlarger,withclothesofgreyandwhiteandasimplydrawnfacewithoutanyexpressionatall.‘Comeandsitdown.’
Againthepleasantvoice,
warmandgood-humoured.‘CanIcallyouThomas?’‘No.’Therewasaslightnod,but
whocouldknowofwhatkind?Theheadofthedoll,however,movedslowlytolookinhisdirection.‘Pleasesit.’Butthevoice
wasstillallwarmthandfriendlinessasitcompletelydiscountedhisappallingrudeness.Hesatdown,the
dollstillwatchingand–thoughhow,hethought,coulditbeso?–takingaprettydimviewofwhatshewaslookingat.‘I’mSisterWray.And
this,’shesaid,movinghercoveredheadslightlytolookatthepuppetonherlap,‘isPoll.’Calestaredbalefullyat
PollandPollstaredbalefullyback.‘Whatshallwecall
you?’‘Everybodycallsme“sir”.’‘Thatseemsalittleformal.
CanweagreeonCale?’‘Suityourself.’‘Whatahorriblelittleboy.’Itwasnotespecially
difficulttosurpriseCale,nomorethanmostpeople,butitwasnoeasythingtomakehimshowit.Itwasnotthesentimentthatwidenedhiseyes–hehad,afterall,been
calledalotworse–butthefactitwasthepuppetwhosaidit.Themouthdidn’tmovebecauseitwasn’tmadeto,butthevoicemostdefinitelycamefromthepuppetandnotSisterWray.‘Bequiet,Poll,’shesaid,
andturnedslightlytofaceCale.‘Youmustn’tpayanyattentiontoher.I’mafraidI’veindulgedherandlikemanyspoiltchildrenshehas
rathertoomuchtosayforherself.’‘WhatamIherefor?’‘You’vebeenveryill.I
readthereportpreparedbytheassessorwhenyouarrived.’‘Themoronthatgotme
lockedupwithallthehead-bangers?’‘Shedoesseemtohavegot
thewrongendofthestick.’‘Well,I’msureshe’sbeen
punished.No?Whatasurprise.’‘Weallmakemistakes.’‘WhereIcomefrom,when
youmakeamistakesomethingbadhappens–usuallyinvolvingalotofscreaming.’‘I’msorry.’‘What’sthereforyoutobe
sorryabout?Wereyouresponsible?’‘No.’
‘So,whatareyougoingtodotomakemeallrightagain?’‘Talk.’‘Isthatit?’‘No.We’lltalkandthen
I’llbebetterabletodecidewhatmedicinestoprescribe,ifthatseemscalledfor.’‘Can’twedropthetalkand
justgettothemedicine?’‘I’mafraidnot.Talkfirst,
medicineafter.Howareyou
today?’Hehelduphishandwith
themissingfinger.‘It’sactingup.’‘Often?’‘Onceaweek,perhaps.’Shelookedathernotes.
‘Andyourheadandshoulder?’‘Theydotheirbesttofillin
whenmyhandisn’thurting.’‘Youshouldhavehada
surgeonlookatyou.There
wasarequestbutitseemstohavegonemissing.I’llsortoutsomethingforthepain.’Forhalfanhoursheasked
questionsabouthispast,fromtimetotimeinterruptedbyPoll.WhenCale,withsomerelish,toldherhehadbeenboughtforsixpencePollhadcalledout,‘Toomuch.’Butmostlythequestionsweresimpleandtheanswersgrim,thoughSisterWraydidn’t
dwellonanyofthem,andsoontheywerediscussingtheeventsofthenightGromekwaskilledandKevinMeatyardescaped.Whenhe’dfinishedshewroteforsometimeontheseveralsmallsheetsofpaperrestingonherleftkneeasPollleantoverthemandtriedtoread,andwaspushedbackrepeatedlyoutofthewaylikeanaughtybutmuchloved
dog.‘Why,’askedCale,as
SisterWraytookacoupleofsilentminutestofinishwritingandPolltooktostaringathimmalevolently,althoughhealsoknewthiscouldnotbeso,‘whydon’tyoutreatthenuttersintheward?Notenoughmoney?’SisterWray’sheadmoved
uprightawayfromherwork.‘Thepeopleinthatwardare
therebecausetheirmadnessisofaparticularkind.Peoplearesickintheheadinasmanywaysasthey’resickinthebody.Youwouldn’ttrytotalkabrokenlegintohealingandsomebreaksinthemindarealmostthesame.Ican’tdoanythingforthem.’‘Butyoucandosomething
forme?’‘Idon’tknow.That’swhat
I’mtryingtofindout.’
‘Ifyou’dlether,younaughtyboy.’‘Bequiet,Poll.’‘Butit’sright.’An
unattractivelittlesmirkfromCale.‘Iamanaughtyboy.’‘SoIunderstand.’‘I’vedoneterriblethings.’‘Yes.’Therewasasilence.‘Whathappensifthe
peoplepayingformestop?’‘Thenyourtreatmentwill
stopaswell.’‘That’snotverynice.’‘Idon’tunderstand.’‘Juststopping–whenI’m
stillsick.’‘LikeeveryoneelseImust
eat,andhavesomewheretolive.I’mnotpartoftheorderthatrunsthePriory.They’llkeepyouinacharitywardbutifIstoppayingmywaythey’llturfmeout.’‘Yes,’saidPoll.‘We
haven’thadRedeemerstolookafterusallourlives.’ThistimePollwent
uncorrected.‘WhatifIdon’tlikeyou?’
saidCale.HehadwantedtocomeupwithastingingreplytoPollbutcouldn’tthinkofone.‘What,’saidSisterWray,
‘ifIdon’tlikeyou?’‘Canyoudothat?’‘Notlikeyou?Youseem
verydeterminedthatIshouldn’t.’‘Imeandecidenottotreat
meifyoudon’tlikeme.’‘Doesthatworryyou?’‘I’vegotalotofthingsto
worryaboutinmylife–notbeinglikedbyyouisn’toneofthem.’SisterWraylaughedatthis
–apleasant,bell-likesound.‘Youlikeansweringback,’
shesaid.‘AndI’mafraidit’s
aweaknessofmineaswell.’‘Youhaveweaknesses?’‘Ofcourse.’‘Thenhowcanyouhelp
me?’‘You’vemetalotofpeople
withoutweaknesses?’‘Notsomany.ButI’m
unluckythatway.VagueHenritoldmeIshouldn’tjudgepeoplebythefactthatI’vebeenunluckyenoughtocomeacrosssomanyshit-
bags.’‘Perhapsit’snotjustluck.’
Hertonewascoolernow.‘What’syourdrift?’‘Perhapsit’snotjusta
matterofchance,thedreadfulpeopleandthedreadfulthingsthathavehappenedtoyou.’‘Youstillhaven’tsaid
whatyoumean.’‘BecauseIdon’tknow
whatImean.’
‘Shemeansyou’reahorriblelittleboywhostirsuptroublewhereverhegoes.’YetagainPollwentuncorrectedandshechangedthesubject.‘IsVagueHenriafriendof
yours?’‘Youdon’thavefriendsin
theSanctuary,justpeoplewhosharethesamefate.’Thiswasnottruebutforsomereasonhewantedto
appalher.Therewasaknockatthe
door.‘Comein,’saidSister
Wray.ThePrioryservantstoodatthedoorsilently.Cale,uncertainandangry,gottohisfeetandwalkedacrosstheroomandontothelanding.Thenheturned,abouttosaysomething,andsawSisterWrayopeningabedroomdoorandquickly
closingitbehindher.Allthewaybacktohisownroomheconsideredwhathe’dseen,orwhathethoughthe’dseen:aplainblack-paintedcoffin.
‘TellmeaboutIdrisPukke.’Itwasfourdayslaterandtheirsessionsbeganatthesametimeeveryday.PollwasonSisterWray’slapbutleaningallthewaybackonthearmofthechairanddrooping
overthesidetosignalherutterboredomandindifferencetoCale’spresence.‘Hehelpedmeinthedesert
andinMemphiswhenwewereinprison.’‘Inwhatway?’‘Hetoldmehowthings
were.Hetoldmenottotrusthimoranybodyelse–notbecausepeopleareliars,thoughalotofthemare,but
becausetheirinterestsarenotyourinterests,andthattoexpectotherpeoplenottoputwhatmatterstothemaheadofwhatmatterstoyouisstupid.’‘Somepeoplewouldsay
thatwascynical.’‘Idon’tknowwhatcynical
means.’‘Itmeansbelievingothers
aremotivatedonlybyself-interest.’
Calethoughtaboutthisforamoment.‘Yes,’hesaidatlast.‘Yes,what?’‘Yes,Iunderstandwhat
cynicalmeans.’‘Nowyou’rejusttryingto
provokeme.’‘No,I’mnot.IdrisPukke
warnedmewhenhedidn’thavetothatIshouldrememberthatsometimeswhatmatteredtomeandwhat
matteredtohimwouldbedifferentandthatevenifhemightbendalittleinmyfavourotherpeoplemostlywouldn’t–whenpushcametoshovethey’dbeforcedtochoosewhatwasbestforthem.Andonlythebiggestduncewouldbelievethatotherpeopleshouldputyouaheadofthemselves.’‘So,noonesacrificestheir
owninterestsforothers?’
‘TheRedeemersdo.Butifthat’sself-sacrificeyoucanshoveitupyourarse.’Pollslowlyraisedherhead
frombehindthesofa,lookedathimthencollapsedbackwardswithagroanofcontemptasiftheefforthadbeenutterlyworthless.‘Andyetyou’reveryangry
withArbellMaterazzi.Youthinkshebetrayedyou.’‘Shedidbetrayme.’
‘Butwasn’tshejustconsultingherowninterest?Aren’tyoubeingahypocriteforhatingher?’‘What’sahypocrite?’‘Someonewhocriticizes
otherpeopleforthesamekindofthingstheydothemselves.’‘It’snotthesame.’‘Yes,itis,’saidPollfrom
behindthearmofthechair.‘Bequiet,Poll.’
‘No,itisn’tthesame,’hesaid,lookingstraightatSisterWray.‘TwiceIsavedherlife,thefirsttimeagainstallreasonorodds–andnearlydiedforit.’‘Didsheaskyouto?’‘Idon’trememberher
askingtobethrownback–whichiswhatIshould’vedone.’‘Butisn’tloveputtingthe
otherpersonfirst,nomatter
what?’‘That’sthestupidestthingI
everheard.Whywouldanyonedothat?’‘He’sright,’saidPoll,still
withherheadobscuredbythearmofthechair.‘Iwon’ttellyouagain,’
saidSisterWray.‘Laughifyoulike–Iwas
readytodieforher.’‘I’mnotlaughing.’‘Iam,’saidPoll.
‘Shetoldmeshelovedme.Ididn’tmakeherdoit.Shetoldmeandmademethinkitwastrue.Shedidn’thavetobutshedid.ThenshesoldmetoBoscotosaveherownskin.’‘AndtherestofMemphis–
herfather,everyone?Whatdoyouthinksheshouldhavedone?’‘SheshouldhaveknownI
wouldhavefoundaway.She
shouldhavedonewhatshedidandthenthrownherselfintothesea.Sheshouldhavesaidthatnothingonearth,notthewholeworld,couldmakeherhandoversomeoneshelovedtobeburntalive.Thoughbeforethey’dsetfiretomethey’dhavecutmyballsoffandcookedtheminfrontofme.YouthinkI’mmakingthatup?’‘No.’
‘Whatevershediditshouldhavebeenimpossibletobear.Butsheputupwithitwellenough.’Therewasalongsilencein
whichSisterWray,experiencedasshewasintheangerofthemad,wonderedwhytheverywallsoftheroomdidnotcatchfiresodazzlingwashisrage.Thesilencewenton–shewasnofoolanditwasCalewho
endedit.‘Whydoyouhaveacoffin
inyourbedroom?’‘MayIaskhowyou
know?’‘Me?I’vegoteyesinthe
frontofmyhead.’‘Wouldyoubereassuredif
Itoldyouithasnothingtodowithourbusinesstogether?’‘No.Nobodylikesacoffin
andmelessthanmost.I’llhavetoinsist.’
‘Don’ttellthatnosyboyanything,’saidPoll.‘Goandlookforyourself.’Calehadmoreorlessbeen
expectinghertorefusetotellhimanythingalthoughhehadnoideawhathe’dhavedoneifshehad.Hestoodupandwalkedovertothefardoorandconsideredwhathemightbelettinghimselfinfor.Wasitatrap?Unlikely.Wastheresomethinghorribleinside?
Possibly.Whatifitwasn’tacoffinandhewasmistakenandwouldlookfoolish?Thedoorwasshuttightsohecouldn’tjustpushitopen.Hecouldkickitopenbutthatwouldlookbadifthereweren’tacoupleofvillainswaitingontheotherside.Wouldyourather,hethought,bedeadorlookstupid?Hesnatchedatthehandle,pusheditopen,thenquickly
glancedaroundtheroomanddodgedbackagain.‘Cowardycowardy
custard,’sangPoll.‘Yourshoesaremadeofmustard.’Therewasnoquestionit
wasacoffinandtheroomwasempty.Emptyexceptforwhateverwasinsidethecoffin.Heturnedintothebedroom,leanthisheadbackandhisarmforwardandflippedthelidoffthen
jumpedback,windyasyoulike.Hestaredatthecontentsforafewseconds.Itwasplainwood,nolining.Therewereevenafewwoodshavingsinthecorner.Foramomenthefeltasurgeofpureterrorinhischestandthoughthewasgoingtothrowup.Thenheshutitaway.Hesteppedbackintothemainroom,closedthedoorbehindhimandwent
backtohischair.‘Happynow,youbig
sissy?’saidPoll.‘Whydoyouhavean
emptycoffininyourbedroom?’‘Don’tworry,’saidSister
Wray.‘It’snotforyou.’‘Idoworry.Who’sitfor?’‘Me.’‘Worriedaboutcheesedoff
patients?’Shelaughedattheidea–a
lovelysound,thoughtCale.Isshebeautiful?‘Ibelongtotheorderof
Hieronymitenuns.’‘Neverheardofthem.’‘AlsocalledtheWomenof
theGrave.’‘Neverheardofthem
either.Don’tlikethesoundofthemmuch.’‘No?’Hehadthesensethat
shewassmiling.Pollmovedherheadforwardandraised
herfloppyrightarminawaythatmanagedtoindicateloathingandcontempt.‘TheHieronymitesarean
Antagonistorder.’Shestopped,knowingthiswouldbeadisclosureofsomesignificance.‘Inevertalkedtoan
Antagonistbefore.Doyouwearthatthingonyourheadbecauseyou’vegotgreenteeth?’
‘No.ImeanIdon’thavegreenteethandI’mnothidinganything,thoughIsupposethatwouldbeagoodenoughreason.DidtheRedeemersreallytellyouthatAntagonistshavegreenteeth?’‘Idon’trememberthem
actuallytellingus.NotBoscoanyway.Itwasjustsortofgenerallyknown.’‘Well,it’snottrue.The
AntagonistHegemony,akindofreligiouscommittee,declaredtheHieronymitestobeanextremeerroranddissolvedtheorder.Theyorderedus,deathbeingthealternative,tocarryacoffinwithusforahundredmilessothateveryonewouldknownottogiveuswaterorfoodorshelter.Wecarrythecoffinandanounceofsalt.’‘Because?’
‘Saltofrepentance.’‘Anddidyou?Repent,I
mean.’‘No.’‘Sowe’vesomethingin
common.’‘Wedon’t,’saidPoll,
‘haveanythingincommonwithyou,yougodlesskillingswashbuckler.’‘Don’tpayanyattentionto
her,’saidSisterWray.Caleexpectedherto
continuebutSisterWraycouldseehewasinterestedandwantedhimtobeatadisadvantage.‘Sowhatdidyoudo
wrong?’heaskedatlast.‘Wepointedoutthatinthe
TestamentoftheHangedRedeemer,althoughhedoesn’tactuallysaythatheresyshouldbeforgiven,hedoessaythatweshouldlovethosethathateusandforgive
theirtrespassesnotonceortwicebutseventytimesseven.StAugustinesaysthatifapersonfallsintoheresyforasecondtimetheymustbeburntalive.AHangedRedeemerwhosaidthatifamanstrikesyouonthecheekyoumustturntheotherandlethimstrikeyouasecondtimeisnotaGodinfavourofburning.’‘Iheardhesaidthatfrom
theMaidofBlackbirdLeys–aboutturningtheothercheek,Imean.Butifyouturnyourcheekwhenpeoplehityouthey’llkeephittingyouuntilyourheadfallsoff.’Shelaughed.‘Iunderstand
whatyousay.’‘Youcanunderstandall
youlike–I’mright,whateveryouthink.’‘We’llagreetodisagree.’‘Theyburnedher.’
‘Who?’‘TheMaidofBlackbird
Leys.’‘Why?’‘Shewassayingthekindof
stuffyouweresaying.She’dgotholdofacopyoftheTestamenttoo.Nocoffinandnosaltthough,shewentstraighttothefire.’‘Whenyousayshegot
holdoftheTestament,youmeanasecretcopy.’
‘Yes.’‘Antagonistsdon’thave
secretcopiesoftheHangedRedeemer’sTestament.It’sanobligationtoreadit–it’stranslatedintoadozenlanguages.’‘P’raps,’hesaid,‘it’sa
differentTestament.’‘Somethingsmustbethe
sameiftheyburnedherforsayingthattheHangedRedeemerisaGodoflove
andnotpunishment.’‘Ifit’sthatobviouswhy
didtheypunishyouforsayingthesamething?’‘That’sthewaymankind
is.’‘God’sgreatestmistake.’‘Idon’tbelievethat.’‘Meneither–it’sGod
who’smankind’sgreatestmistake.’‘Washyourmouthoutwith
soap,youimpioussackof
shit.’ThistimeSisterWraydid
notrebukePoll.‘Lookslike,’saidCale,
triumphant,‘youneedtoteachyourlittlefriendaboutforgiveness.’‘Perhaps,’repliedSister
Wray,‘you’veexceededyourlimit.’‘Seventytimesseven,’
Calelaughed.‘I’vegotloadsleft.Youwon’tgetoffthat
easy.’‘Possibly.Itdependson
howgreatthesinsyoucommittedare.’‘Doeshesaythat,the
HangedRedeemer?’‘No.’‘Thereyouarethen.’‘You’renottellingmethe
truth.’‘IneversaidIwould.Who
areyou?Idon’thavetotellyouanythingIdon’twantto.’
‘AbouttheMaidofBlackbirdLeys,Imean.’‘IdidwhatIcouldtosave
her.’Hewasn’tfeelingsotriumphantnow.‘That’sallthereis.’‘Idon’tthinkthatcanbe
true.AmIwrongtothinkthere’smoretosay?’‘No,you’renotwrong.’‘Thenwhynottellme?’‘I’mnotafraidtotellyou.’‘Ididn’tsayyouwere.’
‘Yes,youdid.’‘Iagree.Yes,Idid.’Hestaredatthegridoftiny
holesthatcoveredhereyes.Maybeshewasblind,hethought,andthiswasawasteoftime.Stupid.Stupid.Stupid.‘Isignedthelicenceforher
tobejustified.’‘Justified?’‘Burnedonapileofwood.
Alive.Youeverseenthat?’
‘No.’‘It’sworsethanitsounds.’‘Ibelieveyou.’‘Ioversawherbeing
burned.’‘Wasthatnecessary–tobe
socloselyinvolved?’‘Yes,itwasnecessary.’‘Why?’‘Noneofyourbusiness.’‘Butitbothersyou?’‘Ofcourseitfucking
bothersme.Shewasanice
littlegirl.Brave.Verybravebutstupid.TherewasnothingIcoulddo.’‘You’resure?’‘No,I’mnotsure–maybe
Icouldhavejumpedonamagicropeandswashbuckledmywayoutofasquareoffivethousandpeopleandtwenty-foot-highwalls.Yeah,that’swhatIshouldhavedone.’‘Didyouhavetosign?’
‘Yes.’‘Didyouhavetobethere?’‘Yes.’‘Didyouhavetobethere?’
sheaskedagain.‘IwentbecauseIthoughtI
shouldsuffer…forsigning…eventhoughtherewasnothingelsetodo.’‘Thenyoudidallyou
could.That’smyopinion.’‘That’sarelief.’Quietbut
acid.‘Doyouthinkshe
wouldhavethoughtso?’‘Ican’tsay.’‘That’stheproblem,isn’t
it?DoyouforgivemeforwhatIdidtoher?’‘Godforgivesyou.’‘Ididn’taskaboutGod.Do
youforgiveme?’
8
OfarmsandthemanIsing,andofcheese;oftherageofThomasCaleandofadequatesuppliesofoatsforthehorsesdeliveredintherightplaceatthecorrecttime;Isingofthousandsgoingdowntothe
houseofdeath,carrionforthedogsandbirds,andoftheprovisionoftents,ofcooks,waterfortenthousandinthemiddleofthebarrenwilderness;Isingofasufficiencyofaxle-greaseandcookingoil.Thinkofapicnicwith
familyandfriends,considerthefailureofalltomeetupatthepropertimeandplace(‘Ithoughtyousaidtwelve
o’clock’;‘Ithoughtthemeetingplacewasattheelmtreeontheothersideoftown’).Considertheendlesswrongnessofthings,considerthejammislaid,thesiteofthepicnicsharedwithaswarmofbees,therain,theangryfarmer,therowbetweenbrothersfesteringfortwentyyears.Nowimaginethebullsofwarletloosetobringabouttheendingofmankind.To
bringabouttheapocalypserequirescheese,cookingoil,oats,waterandaxle-greasetobeordered,theordermadeupandtheorderdelivered.That’swhyBoscowasnotfightingbutwastingthetimeofkings,emperors,supremerulers,potentatesandtheirarmiesofministersandunder-secretariesofthisandthatwithanendlessblizzardoftreaties,pacts,protocols,
pledgesandcovenantsalldesignedtocreateasmuchspaceandtimefortheessentialtriviarequiredinorderforthewipingoutofthehumanracetobemadepossible.Theendoftheworldhadbeenpostponeduntilthefollowingyear.Asnothingreallyhappened
inahundredwalledtownsformonthaftermonththroughoutthefourquarters,othermore
imminentthreatsemerged:disease,fear,thefailuretoplantacrop,theinflationofmoney,alongingforhomeandthehopethateverythingwouldsomehowsortitselfout.Therefugeesbegantoreturnhome.Asaresult,inSpanishLeedsthetyphoidabatedwhenanoldmidden,openedfortheinfluxofalarmedpeasantsandwhichhadleakedhumanexcrement
intothewatersupplyandcausedtheplague,wasshutdownbecauseitwasnolongerneeded.TrevorLugavoyrecovered,asdidKevinMeatyardwhoturnedupattheaddresshe’dbeengivenandstartedworkhumpingsacksofgrainaroundthecity.TheMaterazzilivedonlike
agreatfamilyfallenontheworstoftimes.Theyhadno
moneybuttheydidhavecapitalofsorts:thebrainsofVipondandIdrisPukkeandthealwaysreliablegoldstandardofsnobbery.Eventhesurliestbarrowboy-done-good,havingmadehisfortuneinbaconorhorse-glue,discoveredwhenconfrontedbythesupercilioushauteuroftheMaterazziwomenthatsomethingwaslackingin
theirlives:theywereascommonasmuckandonlyaMaterrazibeautycouldbegintoremovethattaint.Imaginethethoughtofhavingawifewithathousand-year-old-name,onethatcouldbepassedontothechildren.Whatatriumph!Underneaththestroppyblusteryourbarrowboysoulwouldnolongerpinganimperfectnote.Andallyouneededto
becomeoneofthewhowhomwasthemostfair-mindedegalitarianofall:bucketsofcash.TheMaterazzimenmay
havebeenshitsbuttheywerenotsnobsinthewaytheirwivesanddaughterswere.Theytreatedtherichcommon-personsofSpanishLeedswiththeaffectiontheygavetotheirhorsesanddogs.Sowellwerethesehorsesand
dogsbelovedthattheyimaginedtheywereequals.Itmustbesaid,though,thattheMaterazzienne,asthewomencametobecalledinSpanishLeeds,werenotalwayspreparedtomaketheultimatesacrificeandmarryintoafamilywho’dmadetheirmoneyinglueormarmalade.Butintime,therealityofwhatwasrequiredwhenyouwerespecialbuthadno
specialabilitiesmeantthatmanywereforcedtomaketheirway,weeping,downtheaisletoafuturehusbandwhohadmadehismoneyinrenderedfatorporkscratchings.Vipondhadstrong-armedataxontheseunionsbuttheflowofmoneywasnothinglikeasmuchasheneeded,forallhisfuriousurgingstotheheadsoftheTenFamiliesto‘beatsome
sense’intotheirdaughters.HisoldpolicyofaddinghisbrainstoMaterazzimoneynowhadtobendtotheformer.Inthis,IdrisPukkeandThomasCalewerewhathehadinsteadofatreasury.IdrisPukke’sreturnfromthePriorywithnewsofwhathadhappenedwasadisappointment,ifforlesspersonalreasonsthanthoseofhishalf-brother.Headmired
Caleandwasfascinatedbyhimbuttherewasnopersonalaffection.Still,he’dhopedthattheboywouldbenearlybetterbynow.‘IsCaleworthpursuing?’
heaskedIdrisPukke.‘Befrankwithme.There’stoomuchatstakenottobe.’‘Whatareyouaskingmeto
behonestwithyoufor?’camethebad-temperedreply.‘Youdon’thavetherightto
makeademandlikethatfromme.Heiswhatheis.’‘There’snoarguingwith
that.’‘Ifyouwanttodrophim
thenyoucandropme,too.’‘Don’tbesodramatic–
you’llburstintoanarianext.Imisspoke.Let’simagineIneversaidanything.’So,strappedforcash
thoughhewas,VipondsentamessengertoCyprusevery
twoweekstomeetCale’srequestsforinformation:maps,books,rumours,suchreportsasVipondandIdrisPukkecouldborroworsteal.Inreturn,butslowly,camehismapsandhisguessesandcertaintiesaboutwhatBoscowoulddo,andhowhecouldbefrustrated,andtheminimumnumberoftroopsandresourcesitwouldtake.Itwasslowforone
reason:Calewassickandhewasnotimproving.Thereweretimeswhenitseemedhewasonthemend,sleepingfortwelvehoursadayinsteadoffourteen,beingabletowalkforhalfanhouradayandworkforthesame.Butthentheattacks,theretchingandterriblewearinesscameback.FornoreasonthatheorSisterWraycoulddetermine,theillnessebbedandflowed
accordingtolawsentirelyofitsown.‘Perhapsit’sthemoon,’
saidCale.‘It’snot,’repliedSister
Wray.‘Ichecked.’Pollwassurewhatwas
wrong.‘You’reaverynaughtyboyandallshaggedoutbywickedness.’‘P’rapsWoodentopis
right,’saidCale.‘Perhapssheis,thoughshe
hasanervecallinganyoneelsenaughty.Youarewornoutbythewickednessofothers.TheRedeemerspoureditintoyouandnowyoursoulistryingtospititout.’‘Therecan’tbemuchleft.’‘Youhaven’tswalloweda
badporkchop–you’veswallowedamill.’‘Oneofthosethingsthat
blowroundwiththewind?’
‘No–likeasaltmill.Amagicsaltmill,likeinthefairytale.’‘Neverheardofit.’‘Onceuponatimethesea
wasfilledwithfreshwater.Onedayafishermanpulledupanoldlampinhisnets.Whenhestartedtopolishitupageniecameoutwho’dbeenimprisonedinthelampbyanevilmagician.Asareward,thegeniegavehima
saltmillthatproducedsaltforeverandever.Thenthegenieflewawaybuttheoldfishermanwassoexhaustedthathedroppedthemillanditfelltothebottomoftheseawherethesaltjustcamepouringout,neverstopping.That’swhytheseaissalty.’‘Idon’tknowwhatyou’re
talkingabout.’‘Wemuststopthemill
fromgrinding.Weneedto
findsomemedicine.’‘Abouttime.’SisterWraydidnotreact.
Pollwasnotsoreticent.‘Youungratefulhooligan.’‘Gratefulforwhat?’he
said,stilllookingatSisterWraywhoturnedtothepuppet.‘Hehasapoint.Wemust
dobetter.’‘Isthatdummypartofyour
religion?’
‘No.PollisjustPoll.’Thismadeitallseem
strangerthanithadatfirstsight.Itwastruethathe’dbeenstartledonfirstmeetingthem.Ontheotherhandhewasusedto,expectedeven,anyonedressedasapriestornuntoproclaimabnormalbeliefsandbehaveinanoutlandishmanner.TheRedeemers’prayer
beforebreakfaststatedtheir
firmbeliefintheEightImpossibleThings.Almosteveryminuteofeverydayforhisentirelifetheyhadtoldhimsomethingaboutdevilsflyingabovehimintheairorangelsathisshoulderweepingwhenhesinned.Derangedbehaviourandmadbeliefswerenormaltohim.HewasnotevenveryimpressedbySisterWray’stalentforthedifferentvoice
thatseemedtocomefromPoll–hehadseenvoice-throwersoutsidetheRedOperaonbullfightdays.Onedayheknockedon
SisterWray’sdoorbuttherewasnoanswer.Hewasperfectlyawarethatheshouldknockoncemorebutheopenedthedooraftertheshortestpausepossible.Hehoped,ofcourse,tofindSisterWraywithouther
obnubilate(shehadtoldhimwhatherveilwascalledwhenheasked).Surelyshewouldn’twearitwhenshewasonherown?Hemightevenentertofindhernaked.Wouldshebebig-breastedandwithrednipplesthesizeofthedaintysaucerstheyusedatMaterazziteaparties?Hehaddreamtofherlikethis.Orwouldshebeuglyandoldwiththeskinhanging
fromherchestlikedampwashingonaclothesline?Orsomethingelsehehadn’tthoughtof?Hisdistanthopesweretobedisappointed.Heenteredquietly–catswouldhavebegrudgedhim.Shewasinherchairbutasleepandlightlysnoring,aswasPoll–thoughinacompletelydifferenttoneandrhythm.SisterWray’ssnoringwaslikethatofasmallchild,soft
andlow.Poll’swaslikeanoldmandreamingofgrudges.Hesatdownandlistenedto
themphewing,susurratingandwheezingforawhile,andconsideredsearchingherbedroom.Hestoodup,decidedagainstit,andinsteadmovedtohersideandbeganliftingherveil.‘Whatareyoudoing,thou
wretchedthingofblood?’‘LookingforsomethingI
lost,’saidCale.‘Well,youwon’tfindit
there,’repliedPoll.Caledroppedthelower
edgeoftheveilascarefullyashehadpickeditup,thenwentandsatdownasguiltlessasabadcat.CalesatforafullminutewhilePollstaredathim.‘Areyougoingtowakeher
up?’hesaidtoPoll.‘No.’
‘Wecouldtalk,’saidCale,affably.‘Why?’‘Gettoknoweachother.’‘Iknow,’saidPoll,‘as
muchaboutyouasIwantto.’‘I’mallrightwhenyouget
toknowme.’‘No,youaren’t.’‘Youthinkyouunderstand
whatI’mreallylike?’‘YouthinkIdon’t?’SisterWrayslepton.
‘WhathaveIeverdonetoyou?’Itwasn’tanaggrieved
question,justamatterofcuriosity.‘Youknowverywell.’‘No,Idon’t.’‘She,’saidPoll,lookingup
atSisterWray,‘isallnobilityandgraceandgenerosity.’‘So?’‘Herweakness,thoughI
loveherforit,isthatthese
greatgiftsthatshepassesontootherssmotherherproperfearofyou.’Thoughhetriednotto
showit,Calewasrattledbythis.‘She’sgotnoreasontobeafraidofme.’Therewasagaspof
impatiencefromPoll.‘Youthinkthattheonly
thingpeopleshouldbeafraidofiswhatyoucandotothem–thatyoucouldpunchthem
onthenoseorcuttheirheadoff?She’safraidofwhatyouare–ofwhatyoursoulcandotohers.’‘What’sthatstrange
buzzingnoiseinmyears?’saidCale.‘Itsoundslikewordsbuttheydon’tmakeanysense.’‘YouunderstandwhatI’m
talkingabout.YouthinkitjustasmuchasIdo.’‘No,Idon’t,because
everythingyousayiscamel-shit.’‘Youknow…youinfect
otherpeople…youknowexactly,yousnivellinglittlechisler.’‘Idon’tsnivel.Noone’s
everheardmesnivel.Andit’sluckyforyouIdon’tknowwhatachisleris.’‘Orwhat?’saida
triumphantPoll.‘You’dcutmyheadoff?’
‘Youdon’thaveahead.You’remadeofwool.’‘Iamnot,’saidan
indignantPoll,quickly.‘ButatleastIdon’tsufferfromsoulmurder.’Thenforthefirsttimehe
heardPollgasp–aguiltysighofsomeonewho’sletthecatoutofthebag.‘Whatareyoutalking
about?’‘Nothing,’saidPoll.
‘It’snotnothing.Whysoguilty?Whatareyouafraidof?’‘Notyou,anyway.’‘Thentellme,wool-for-
brains.’‘Youdeservetobetold.’
PolllookedawayatthesleepingSisterWray,stillsnoringlikeatwo-year-old.Apause.Makinguphermind.ThenPolllookedbackatCalewithallthekindness,it
seemedtotheboy,intheeyesofaweaselhehadoncecomeacrosswhileitwaseatingarabbit.Ithadraiseditsheadandlookedathimforamoment,utterlyindifferent,andthengonebacktoitsmeal.‘Iheardhertalkingtothe
DirectorwhenshethoughtIwasasleep.’‘Ithoughtyoutwoknew
everythingabouteachother–
littleheart-pals.’‘Youdon’tseeanything
aboutthetwoofus.Youthinkyoudobutyoudon’t.’‘Getonwithit.Icanfeel
myleftleggoingtosleep.’‘Youaskedforit.’‘NowIcanfeelmyother
legwantsfortywinks.’‘Soulmurderistheworst
thingthatcanhappentoyou.’‘Worsethandeath?Worse
thanfivehoursdyingwith
yourgibletshangingoutofyourtum?Yourliverdribblingoutofyourbreadbasket?’Calewaslayingitonthickbutnotthickerthanitwas.‘Soulmurder,’saidPoll,
‘islivingdeath.’‘Getonwithit,I’vegot
fishtofry.’Butthetruthwashedidn’t
muchlikethesoundofit,nor,evenifPolldidhavewool
betweentheears,thelookinhereyes.‘Soulmurderiswhat
happenstochildrenwhotakemorethanfortyblowstotheheart.’‘Doblowstothehead
count?Neverhadonetotheheart.’‘Theykilledyourjoy–
that’swhatshesaid.’‘Youwouldn’tbelyingat
all?Iwaswrongaboutthe
wool–thatnastytongueofyourssoundslikeit’smadefromthearsehairsofasheep-shagger–mostlikelyIshouldthinkthatwasaconsiderablepossibility.’‘Idon’tthinkyourjoyis
dead.’‘Idon’tcarewhatyou
think.’‘Yourjoyisallinlaying
wastetothings–blightanddesolationiswhatmakes
yoursoulglad.’‘That’sabloodylie–you
wereherewhenItoldWray…’‘SisterWray!’‘…whenItoldherabout
thegirlIsavedintheSanctuary.Ididn’tevenknowher.’‘Andyou’veregrettedit
eversince.’‘Iwasjoking.’‘Nobody’slaughing–
nobodydoeswhenyou’rearound,notforlong.’‘IgotridofKevin
Meatyard.’‘Saysyou.’‘IsavedArbellMaterazzi.’‘Itwasn’tyoursouldoing
thethinking,wasit?Itwasyourprick.’‘AndIsavedherbrother.’‘That’strue,’saidPoll.‘I
agreethatyoudidgoodthere.’
‘Soyou’rewrong–yousaidityourself,’saidCalesuspiciously.‘Ididn’tsayyourheartwas
dead,lotsofsoul-deadpeoplehaveaheart,agoodheart.Ibetyouwerealovelylittleboy.Ibetyouwouldhavegrownuparealgoody-goody.ButtheRedeemersgotyouandmurderedyoursoulandthatwasthat.Noteverybodycanbesaved.Somewounds
gotoodeep’‘Dropdead.’Hewas
rattled.‘It’snotyourfault,’saida
delightedPoll.‘Youcan’thelpyourself.Youweren’tbornbadbutyou’rebadallthesame.Nothingcanbedone.PoorCale.Nothingcanbedone.’‘That’snotwhatshe
believes,’hesaid,lookingatSisterWray.
‘Yes,itis.’‘Sheneversaidthat.’‘Shedidn’thaveto.Iknow
whatshethinksevenbeforeshethinksit.You’regoingtomakehersuffer,aren’tyou?’‘SisterWray?’‘NotSisterWray,youidiot
–thattreacherousslutyou’realwayswhingeingabout.’‘Ineverhurther.’‘Notyet,youhaven’t.But
youwill.Andwhenyoucross
thatriverwe’reallgoingtosuffer–becauseonceshe’sdeadthere’llbenothingtostopyou.YouknowtheriverI’mtalkingabout,don’tyou?’‘There’sthatbuzzing
soundinmyearsagain.’‘It’stheriverofnoreturn–
THEWATERSOFDEATH–andoverthatriveristheMEADOWOFDESOLATION.That’swhereyou’reheading,youngman,
despair’syourdestination.You’rethesaltinourwound,that’swhatyouare.Youstinkofmiseryandprettysoonthesmellisgoingtofillthewholeworld.’Pollwasbeginningto
shout.‘I’dbesorryforyouifwe
allweren’tgoingtogetitintheneckasaresult.You’retheangelofdeathallright–youstinkofit.Crossoverthe
riverofnoreturnintothelandoflostcontent,thevalleyoftheshadowofdeath…’Pollhadraisedhervoiceso
muchthatSisterWraycametowithaloudsnort.‘What?’shesaid.Therewasonlysilence.
‘Oh,Thomas,it’syou.Ifellasleep.Haveyoubeenherelong?’‘No,’saidCale.‘Justgot
here.’‘I’msorry,I’mnotfeeling
verywell.Wecouldcontinuetomorrowifyouwouldn’tmind.’Calenodded.SisterWraystoodupand
walkedhimtothedoor.Ashewasabouttoleaveshesaid,‘Thomas,Polldidn’tsayanythingtoyouwhileIwasasleep?’‘Don’tbelieveathingthat
snivellinglittlechislertellsyou!’squawkedanalarmedPoll.‘Bequiet,’saidSister
Wray.Calelookedather.This
wasoddstufftograspevenforaboywhohaddrunkdeeplyandataveryearlyagefromthefountainofthestrangenessofothers.‘No,’hesaid.‘Itdidn’tsay
anythingandIwouldn’thave
9
‘That’seasyforyoutosay.Haveyoueverallowedanothermantofondleyou?’‘NotasfarasIcan
remember.’Connwasarguingwith
LordVipond,watchedby
ArbellandafascinatedIdrisPukke.‘HastheKingevertouched
you?’askedArbell,notaltogetherpatiently.‘No.’‘Thenwhyallthisfuss?’‘Everyphilosophercan
standthetoothache,’saidConntohiswife,‘exceptfortheonewhohasit.’Thiswasareferencetoone
ofIdrisPukke’smost
carefullypolishedsayings.‘Well,’saidVipond,‘if
you’dliketoswapbanalities…’thiswasaimedathisbrother…‘whydon’tyouconsiderthisone:everyproblemisanopportunity.’Thedifficultyandthe
goldenchancetheywerediscussinginvolvedKingZogofSwitzerlandandAlbania,who’dtakenaveryparticularshinetoConnMaterazzi.
Many,ofcourse,feltthesameaboutthetallandbeautifulblondyoungman,sostrongandgracefulwithhiseasymannersandopennesstoall.Thecockylittleshitoflessthanayearbeforehadneededtogrowupandhaddonesoinsuchanappealingwaythathesurprisedevenhisadmirers.Arbell,whohadoncehadacrushuponthespoiltyoung
boy–thoughshetreatedhimwithcoolnessandevendisdainasaresult–nowfoundthatshewasfallinginlovewithhim.Alittlelateperhaps,giventhattheyhadbeenmarriedformorethansevenmonthsandhadasonwhoseearlyarrival,yetplumpsize,hadbeenthesubjectofsomeungenerousrumours.Thoughcertainlymorebiddablethanbefore,
andconsiderablyso,hehadhislimits,oneofthembeinghisaversiontoeverythingabouthisroyaladmirer:hisstainedclothes(‘Icantellyoueverythinghehaseateninthelastmonth’),histongue(‘Itflapsaboutinhismouthlikeawetsheetonawashingline’),hishands(‘Alwaysfidgetingwithhimselfandhisfavourite’strousers’).Hiseyes(‘watery’).Hisfeet
(‘enormous’).Eventhewayhestood(‘Repulsive!’).‘TheKing,’saidVipond,
‘holdsallofusinhishands–andmorebesides.EverycountrynervousabouttheRedeemerslookstohimforasignofwhattheymightdo.Withouthim,theMaterazziwilldescendintoakindofnothing–that’stosayyourwife,yourchildandyou.’‘Soyouwantmetolickhis
arse?’‘Conn!’Asharprebuke
fromhiswife.Therewasanunpleasant
pause.‘I’msorry,’saidConnat
last.‘I’veheardworse,’replied
Vipond.‘CanIsaysomething?’
askedIdrisPukke.‘Mustyou?’saidVipond.IdrisPukkesmiledand
lookedatConn.‘Mydearboy,’hebegan,
winkingatConnsotheotherscouldn’tsee–asignthathewasonhissideinconspiringagainsttheothertwo.‘Ifhetouchesme,I’llcut
hisbloodyheadoff,’Connsaid,interruptingIdrisPukke’sattempttohandlehim.IdrisPukkesmiledagainas
theotherssighedand
grimacedinexasperation.‘You’renotgoingtocut
hisheadoffbecauseyou’renotgoingtolethimtouchyou.’‘Andwhatifhedoes?’‘Youstandup,’said
IdrisPukke,‘lookathimasifyou’dseenmorelovelythingscomingoutofthebackendofadogandleavetheroominsilence.Yousaynothing.’
‘Ifthat’sthebestyoucando,don’tletuskeepyou,’saidVipond.‘TheKingisasnob,’
repliedIdrisPukke,‘and,likeallsnobs,athearthe’saworshipper.Allhislifehe’sbeenlookingforsomeonewholooksdownonhimtoadore.Connlookslikeayounggod–ayounggodwithabloodlinethatgoesbackasfarasthegreatfreeze.
He’swonderstruck.’‘Icanthinkofanother
word,’saidConn.‘Maybethat,too.Buthe
wantsyoutotreathimwithcontempt.Hewon’tdaretouchyou.Everytimeyoulookathim–anddon’tlookathimexceptonceortwiceameeting–youpoureveryquintillaofyourloathinganddisgustintoit.’‘Thatwon’tbehard.’
‘Thereyouare,then.’Withthisunexpected
resolution,IdrisPukkechattedawayaboutadinnerhe’dbeenatthepreviousnightandthenArbelleasedConnoutofthedoorandthetwobrotherswereleftontheirown.‘Ithoughtthatwentvery
well.’ItwasnotIdrisPukketalkinginhoneyedtonesofself-congratulationbutVipond,whosescowlhad
vanishedcompletely,tobereplacedbyalookofconsiderablesatisfaction.‘Doyouthinkshecaught
on?’‘Probably,’repliedVipond.
‘Butshe’sasmartlittlemiss.Shewon’tsayanything.’‘You’rewrong,bythe
way’saidIdrisPukke.‘Whatdoyoumean?’‘Yousaid,“Everyproblem
isanopportunity.”’
IdrisPukkewalkedovertothewindowtocatchthelastraysofthesettingsun.‘WhatIactuallyalwayssayis,“Everyopportunityisaproblem.”’
VagueHenriwasdisturbed,butinanunusuala-fish-has-just-fallen-out-of-the-sky-in-front-of-youway.TwodaysearlierhehadreachedintohispockettopayforapackofcigarillosatMrSobranie’s
HealthTobaccoshopanddiscoveredthathisloosechangewasgoneandhadbeenreplacedbyacarrot.Moreprecisely,acarrotthathadbeennotveryskilfullycarvedintotheshapeofanerectpeniswiththeword‘YOU’cutintothetesticles.Eventuallyhedecidedthathe’dbeenthevictimofsomesmartalecstreetlurcher.Thequestionwhyaskilledthief
wouldstealtheloosechangeinhisleftpocketbutnotthewalletinhisright,whichhadnearlythirtydollarsinit,heputtothebackofhismind.Butnowtheoddlypeculiarthingthathehadputtothebackofhismindcouldn’tstaythereanylongerbecauseithadhappenedagain.Thistimehehaddiscoveredahard-boiledegg,withthetwostaringeyesofavillageidiot
andamouthwiththetongueflappingtoonesidedrawnontheshell.Onthereverseoftheeggwasastatement:
VAGUEHENRITRUE
AllthroughthenightVagueHenriturnedoverinhisbrainwhatthesignificanceofthetwogibesmightbeandwhethertheywereathreator
not.Thentherewasaknockatthedoor;heansweredit,takingtheprecautionofhidingalongknifebehindhisback.Buthisvisitorhadthesensetostandwellback.‘So,itwasyou?’‘Whoelsewoulditbe?’
saidKleist.‘NobodyelseknowswhataprickyouarethewayIdo.’VagueHenriwasso
pleasedtoseehisoldfriend
thatthebollockingthatfollowedforrunningoffonhisownwhentheywereintheScablandslastedbarelyfiveminutesbeforetheyweresittingdownandsmokingtwocigarillosofMrSobranie’sHealthTobaccoanddrinkingwhatremainedofabottleofhideousSwisswine.Bothofthem,ofcourse,hadextraordinaryeventstospeakof.‘Youfirst
asyou’vesinnedthemost,’saidVagueHenriandwasastonishedasKleist,withoutwarning,begantoweepuncontrollably.ItwashalfanhourbeforeKleisthadrecoveredenoughtotellhimwhathadhappened.AshelistenedVagueHenrigrewpaleandthenredwithangeranddisgust.‘There,there,’hesaidto
theweepingboy,pattinghim
ontheshoulderbecausehedidn’tknowwhatelsetodo.‘There,there.’It’snotalltheworldthatis
astagebuteachhumansoul:thecastlistineachofoursoulsislongandvariedandmostofthecharactersqueueinthewingsanddownthedarkpassagesandintothebasement,nevertobeauditionedforapart.Evenfortheoneswhodomakeit
ontothestageit’sonlytocarryaspearorannouncethearrivaloftheKing.Inthisexpectantbutlikelytobedisappointedlineofinnerselveswaitingforthechancetostrutoutintheworldweusuallyfindourinnerfool,ourprivateliar,ourunrevealedoafand,nexttohim,ourwisest,bestself;ourheroandthenourcoward,ourcheatandsaintandnextto
himourchild,thennextourbrat,ourthief,ourslut,ourmanofprinciple,ourglutton,ourlunatic,ourmanofhonourandourthug.Calledunexpectedlytothe
frontofVagueHenri’ssoulqueuethatnightwasamostdangerouscharacter(forVagueHenriatanyrate):thepartinhimthatbelievedinjusticeandfairplay.Caledealtwithhispast
throughbeinginastateofalmostconstantrage,Kleistbydisdainforeverythingthatmighttouchhisheart,VagueHenribybeingcheerfulinthefaceofadversity.Thestrategiesofthefirsttwohadfailed(CalehadgonemadandKleisthadfalleninlove)andnowitwasVagueHenri’sturn.Theideathatoneofthemcouldhavemarriedandmadeanother
humanbeing,anactualbaby,pink,smallandhelpless,touchedhimwithrageattheRedeemerssodeepthatthedeathsofKleist’swifeandsonattheirhandsburntlikethesun.Sohecalledonthemaddestofallhiscastofcharacters:theonewhowantedlifetobefair,whowantedthosewhohaddoneharmtobepunishedandjusticeforall.
WhileanexhaustedKleistsnoredinmiserableobliviononthebed,VagueHenrismokedhiswaythroughthelastsnoutofhisHealthTobaccoandworkedonhisspideryandill-advisedconspiracy.DemotedtothebackofthelineinVagueHenri’sinnercastlist,hiswiserselfwascallingtohim:delay,fudge,avoid,putoffaslongaspossiblethemoment
whenyoumustcommityourselfandotherstothebusinessofdeath.Butitwasthevoiceofragethathadhisear.
IfIdrisPukkehadknownwhatVagueHenriwasplanninghewouldhavehadastroke–insteadhewasenjoyingtheabsolutesuccessofhisplantomanipulateConninthematterofthe
King.WitheverydisdainfullookandeverysighofcontemptZogwasonlythemoreenthralledbyConn.He’dfinallyreachedsnobheaven:he’dmetsomeonewhowasworthytolookdownonhim.Swiftthoughhisrisehad
been,andalongwithitthatoftheMaterazziingeneral,evenConn’smoststar-struckadmirerswereastonishedat
theannouncementthattheKingwastomakehimcommanderofallthearmiesofSwitzerlandandAlbania.Thisextraordinaryandapparentlyfoolishstep,giventhethreattotheirexistencethatfacedtheSwiss,waslessopposedthanitmighthavebeenbecauseeveryonehadbeenexpectingthejobtogotoViscountHarwood,KingZog’snowformerfavourite,a
manofnomilitaryexperienceorindeedtalentofanykind.Itwasreliablysaidthat,onlearningofConn’spreferment,Harwoodretiredtohisbedandcriedforaweek.Themorescurrilousrumours,probablyuntrue,whisperedthathispenishadshrunktothesizeofanacorn.Inlightofthis,Conn’sappointmentwaslessabsurdthanitfirstappeared.Hehad
changedagooddealsincetheruinousshamblesatSilburyHill.Hehadcomeveryclosetoahideousdeaththereandbeenforcedtoendurerescuebysomeonehe’doncebulliedanddespised.EvenIdrisPukke,whohadburstintolaughteronhearingthenewsofhisappointmenttosuchaludicrouslypowerfulposition,begantorealizeafterafewdaysofmeetings
withConnandVipondthatdefeat,deathandhumiliationatSilburyhadbeenthemakingoftheyoungman.Herewassomeonewhohadbeenbroughtuptofightandwhohadlearnthisbitterlessonsearly.InadditionConn,asVipondhadadvisedhimtodo,listenedcarefullytoIdrisPukkeandwasclearlyandgenuinelyimpressedbytheworkhehaddoneonthe
comingwarwiththeRedeemers.ConnwasnottoknowthatmuchoftheintelligencehadbeensuppliedbyThomasCale.‘ButwhatifCalecomes
back?HowisConngoingtotaketothat?’saidIdrisPukke.‘Doesheknow?’asked
Vipond.‘Doesheknowwhat?’‘Thethingitwouldbe
betterifhedidn’tknow.’
‘Probablynot.Ifwe’rethinkingofthesamething.’‘Weare.’‘Ishelikelytocomeback
–Cale,Imean?’askedhisbrother.‘Apparentlynot.’Itwasanunhappyreply
anditwouldhavebeenevenmoreunhappyifhecouldhaveseentheboywhohecontinued,tohissurprise,tomisssomuch.Thecircles
aroundCale’seyeswere,ifanything,darker–theskineverwhiterwithexhaustionattheretchingthatafflictedhimsometimesforafewseconds,sometimesforhours.Somedayswerebetter–therewereevenweekswhenhethoughtperhapsitwasliftingfromhim.Buttheattacksalwaysreturnedeventually,greaterorlesseraccordingtotheirowndevicesanddesires.
Duringoneofthesebetterweeks,SisterWraysaidthatshewantedtoclimbtothetopofanearbyhill,bothinsearchofthetruthoftherumoursthatbluesageandorangeneemgrewatthetopandbecausetheviewoftheseaandmountainswassaidtobethebestinCyprus.‘Itmaybeahill,’saida
breathlessCale,afewhundredfeetintotheirclimb,
‘butitfeelslikeamountain.’Itwasaswelltheystarted
earlyasCalehadtoresteveryfewhundredyards.Attheirsixthstophefellasleepfornearlyanhour.SisterWraywentforawanderupanddownthroughthedryscrubandcrumblyearth.Eventhoughtherehadbeenlittleraininthelastfewmonths,everywhere,hiddenamongstthescraggyburberrybushes
andthistletrees,werethetinypleasuresofpurpleknapweed,rockroses,thetinyeggyflowersofthorowax.WhenshegotbackCale
wasawake,andlookingpaleandevenmoreblackaroundtheeyes.‘We’llgoback.’‘Iwon’tmakethetopbut
wecangoonabitlonger.’‘Bigcry-babypansy,’said
Poll.‘Oneday,’repliedCale,his
voiceawhisper,‘I’mgoingtounravelyouandknitsomeoneanewarsehole.’
Somefifteenhundredfeetabovethem,andtwohundredfeetbelowthetopofthehill,wasaV-shapedriftcutintothehillbythewinterrains.Itwastheeasiestwayup,andwaitingforCaleandSister
WraytopassthroughitweretheTwoTrevorsandKevinMeatyard.KevinwasallpuppyishexcitementbuttheTwoTrevorswereuneasy.Theyweretoowellawarethattheironlawofunintendedconsequencesseemedtoapplyevenmoresharplytotheplannedactofmurderthantootherenterprises.Theyalwaysdesignedtheirassassinations
asastorywherethechainofeventscouldbeupsetatanypointbyatrivialdetail.TheyhadfailedtokilltheArchdukeFerdinandinSarajevobecausethecarriagedriver,alatereplacementfortheusualdriverwho’dcuthisarmthatmorningwhilereplacingawheelasaprecaution,hadpanickedoverthehastilygiveninstructionsoverwheretogoandtakena
wrongturn,notonce(theTwoTrevorshadtakenthisintoaccount)buttwice.Hadtheysucceededinkillingtheoldbufferwhoknowswhattheconsequencesmighthavebeen–buttheydidn’t,sosomethingelsehappenedinstead.ThereturnoftheTwo
TrevorstoSpanishLeedshadbeensomethingofawelcomeanti-climax.Kittyseemedto
believetheirreassurancesthatwhiletheycouldnotrevealtheirclient’sbusinesstheywerenotinanywayathreattoKitty’sinterests(nottrue,asithappened,butneitherrealizedthattheotherhadastakeinThomasCale).KittyguessedthattheRedeemerswereprobablyinvolvedbutwhilethepoliticalsituationwassoconfusedhedidn’twanttoantagonizethem
withoutgoodreason.He’dconsidered,ofcourse,disappearingtheTwoTrevorsintotherubbishtipsatOxyrinchusjusttobeonthesafeside.Buthenowdecidedthatbeingonthesafesidemeantlettingthemgo–muchtoCadbury’sirritation,giventhetroublehe’dbeenputtoinordertobringthemback.Inadditiontotheirlives,theTwoTrevorshadalesser
strokeofluck:they’ddiscoveredwhereCalehadtakenrefugewhenLugavoyhadhisearbentbyKevinMeatyard’sboastfulness.AdelightedKevinhaddiscoveredThomasCale’sreputationassomesortofflintydesperadoandwasdeterminedtoleteveryoneknowthathe’dgiventhiscelebrityhardcaseanynumberofbloodygood
hidings.NoonereallybelievedhimbutKevin’sappearance,aswellashisviolentboasting,madepeoplenervous.Ifthehumanbodywasthebestpictureofthehumansoul,Kevinwasclearlysomeonebestavoided.HencethecomplaintstoTrevorLugavoyfromKevin’semployerandhencetheirjammydiscoveryofCale’sprecisewhereabouts.
‘Idon’tlikeridiculousgoodluck,’saidTrevorKovtun,‘itremindsmeofpreposterousbadluck.’Thethreeofthemhad
arrivedatYoxhall,thetownoutsidethePriory,justthedaybeforeCaleandSisterWray’stripupBigginHill.ForahundredyearsYoxhallhadbeenaspatownwherethereasonablywell-offcametotakethewatersandvisit
theirrelativesinthePriory,whichhadgrownupthereinthebeliefthatthelocalhotspringwasbeneficialinthetreatmentofthosesufferingfrom‘nerves’.ItwasoutofseasonandeasytogetlodgingswithaviewofthemaingateofthePriory.Itwasn’tpossibletoarriveatanexactplanuntilthey’dthoroughlyexaminedthesiteandlaidoutastrategyortwo
forescaping.Whiletheywereeatingbreakfastearlythatmorning,anexcitedKevinhadrusheddownfromoverlookingthegatestoreportthatCale,andsomesortofstrangenunhe’dseenabouttheplaceacoupleoftimeswhenhewasincarcerated,wereheadedtowardsBigginHill.Theyfollowed,realizingthatmoresuspiciousgoodluckwas
offeringthemagoldenopportunityeventhoughtheTwoTrevorsdidn’tbelieveingoldenopportunities.ItwasclearCaleandthenunwereheadingforthetopbuttheykeptstoppingtorestsothethreeofthemwereabletogetwellahead,eventhoughtheyhadtotakeamuchsteeperroutetoscrutinizethecutinthehillsidethatKevinassuredthemwouldbean
excellentplaceforanambush.Heturnedouttoberight–hewasuglyandoffensivebutnotstupid.Infact,whenhewasn’tboastingormakingpeopleuneasyhewasastuteinadistastefullycoarseway.Inadditiontotheirdislike
ofunexpectedgoodfortune,therewasalsotheproblemofthenunorwhatevershewas.Itwasmorethanjusta
professionalreluctancetokillsomeonetheyhadn’tbeenpaidto,butamoraluneasiness.TheTrevorsweren’tdeludedenoughtobelievethateveryonetheykilledhadgotwhatwascomingtothem,thoughitwasusuallytrue.Indeeditwasprobablyalwaystrue.WhywouldanyonespendthehugeamountsneededtohiretheTwoTrevorsonsomeone
whowasinnocent?ButhoweveridealaplacethiswastoslaughterThomasCale–whounquestionablydeservedwhatwascomingtohim–therewasnowaytheycouldleaveeitherawitnessorsomeonetoraisethealarm.ThereforeitwaswithpeculiarmixedfeelingsthattheywatchedasCaleandthenunturnedback.TherewerenomixedfeelingsfromKevin
Meatyard:hepunchedthegroundwithfrustrationandsworesoloudlythatTrevorLugavoytoldhimtoshutuporhe’dbesorry.Theywaitedanhourandthenmadetheirsilentandbad-temperedwaybackdownthehill.
TheTrevorswerenottheonlyobserversthatday.Watchingfromabeautifullykeptmaisondemaîtreatthe
bottomofBigginHillwereDanielCadburyandDeidrePlunkett.Theirlatearrivalthat
morninginpursuitoftheTwoTrevorsmeantthatitwasonlywhenCaleandSisterWrayreturned,followedanhourlaterbythetwomenandtheirlumpycompanion,thatCadburyrealizedhe’dcomeclosetofailingtoprotectCale.Eithersomethinghad
gonewrongorforsomereasontheTwoTrevorswerefollowingCalebutwerenotintendingtokillhim.Butwhatcouldtheybeuptoifitwasn’takilling?Eventhoughitwasoff-
seasonforYoxhalltherewasenoughbusinessfromthefamiliesofthewealthymadtokeepthingstickingover.Cadburydidn’twanttoriskgoingintothetownand
stumblingintotheTwoTrevorssohedecidedtosendDeidreinstead.Theyhad,ofcourse,seenherbrieflywhenhebroughtthembacktoSpanishLeedsbutshe’dbeendressedinherusualsexlesssergeoutfit.Somethingcouldbedoneaboutthat.Cadburyorderedthe
bumpkinwholookedafterthehousetofetchadressmaker.‘Youdohave
dressmakers?’‘Ohyes,sir.’‘Tellhimtobringa
selectionofwigs.Andkeepyourmouthshut,andtellthedressmakertodothesame.’Hegavethebumpkintwodollars,andfiveforthedressmaker.‘Doyouthinkfivedollars
wasenough?’hesaidtoDeidrewhentheoldmanhadleft.Hewasn’tinterestedin
heropinionconcerningthehushmoney,hewasjusttryingtogethertotalk.Heneededtofindoutifshewasawarethathehadmurderedhersister.Themoretimehespentwiththiswoman,whowasevenmorepeculiarthanthelateJennifer,themoreitpreyedonhismind.Deidrerarelysaidanythingmuch.Butwheneverheaskedheradirectquestionshewould
replywithsomegnomicsaying–orwhatseemedlikeone.Whatevershesaidwasdeliveredwithafaintsmileandinatonesolaconicthatitwashardnottothinkthatshewasmockinghim.AttimessheseemedassilentlyknowingasasmugBuddha.Butwhatwasshewiseandsilentlyknowingabout?Wasshejustbidinghertime?‘Enoughisasgoodasa
feasttoawiseman,’shesaid,inreplytohisquestionaboutthemoney.Wasthereaglintofscornflickeringinthedepthsofthoseflatandunresponsiveeyes?Andifso,whatdiditmean?Didsheknowandwaswaiting?Thatwasthequestion.Didsheknow?Astherewasnothingelse
tobedoneuntilthebumpkinreappeared,hetriedtoread.
HebroughtouthisnewcopyofTheMelancholyPrince,theoldonehavingfallenapartduringavisittoOxyrinchustoarrangefortheremovalofacorruptofficialresponsibleforthecity’srubbishtips.HewascorruptinthesensethathewasholdingbackonKittytheHare’sshareoftheprofits,owedtohimbyvirtueofthefactthatitwasKittytheHare
whohadpaidthebribetoputhimincharge.WhenhesadlydecidedtothrowawayhiscrumblingcopyofTheMelancholyPrince–somanymemories–hewasintriguedtoseethathissoon-to-bevictimhadrathercleverlydividedthelocalbinsintodifferentonesforfood,miscellaneoustrashandpaper.Accordingtohiscontractwiththecityhewas
supposedtotakethepapertoMemphis,whereheclaimeditcouldbesoldtooffsetthecostofdisposalandhenceexplainwhyhisbidforthecontractwaslowerthanthatofhisrivals.Thiswasalie.Infacthetookthepaperoutintothenearbydesertandburiedit.NowCadburyopenedhis
newcopyandbeganreading,butthoughitwaspleasurable
toreadagainthefamiliarwords(‘Nymph,inthyorisonsbeallmysinsremember’d’),Deidre’ssilentpresenceputhimoff.‘Areyoumuchforbooksat
all?’heasked.‘Ofmakingmanybooks,
thereisnoend,’shereplied.‘Andmuchstudyisawearinessoftheflesh.’Wasthereasmilethere?
hethought.Therewas
definitelyasmile.‘Youdon’tthinkthat
knowledgeisagoodthing,then?’Cadbury’stetchysarcasmwasnotatallindoubt.‘Hethatincreases
knowledge,’shesaid,‘increasessorrow.’Thisactuallydidannoy
him.Cadburywasaneducatedmanandtookhisownlearning,andthe
learningofothers,seriously.‘Soyoudon’ttaketheview
thattheunexaminedlifeisn’tworthliving?’Moresarcasm.Shedidnotsayanything
foramoment,asifallowinghisoutbursttolandinthedryairoftheroom,dustywithmotesintheshaftsofsunlightcomingthroughthesmallwindows.‘Forhimthatisjoinedto
thelivingthereishope;fora
livingdogisbetterthanadeadlion.’ToCadburythisseemed
likeathreat,themorethreateningbecausedeliveredevenmoreflatlythanusual.Washersisterthedead
lion?Washethelivingdog?‘Perhaps,’hesaid,‘some
newclotheswillcheeryouup.’Shesmiled,arareevent.‘There’snothingnew
underthesun.’Twentyminuteslaterthe
bumpkinreturnedwiththedressmaker,weigheddownwithholdalls.CadburyhadexplainedthathewantedDeidretoputonadressandawig–herhairwascutalmosttotheskull–andgotolookfortheTwoTrevors.Hecouldn’timaginetheywouldrecognizeher;oncethedressmakerwasfinished,
neitherdidCadbury.Thedressandthefalsehairdidnottransformherintoabeauty.Ifanythingshelookedevenstrangerthanbefore–likeadoll,anautomatonthathe’dseendemonstratedatOldKingCole’sPalaceinBoston.Oncethepowderandliprougehadbeenpaintedon,Deidrelookedverystrangeindeed,asifsomeonehad
describedawomantoasculptorblindfrombirth,who’dthenhadastabatmakingonethathadturnedoutimpressiveinitsway,givenhislimitations,butstillnotentirelyconvincing.Still,itwouldcertainlydothetrick.Noonewasgoingtorecognizeher.Bynowitwasdark.He
paidoffthedressmakerandthebumpkin,gesturedDeidre
overtothelargestwindowandraisedupthelanternsoshecouldseeherselfreflectedintheglass.Hethoughtherexpressionsoftenedforamomentassheswayedbackandforthandthenhesawanexpressionofpuredelight.‘Whoisthis?’shesaid.
‘Whocomesoutofthedesertlikeapillarofsmokescentedwithmyrrhandfrankincense?’Andthenshe
laughed.‘I’veneverheardyou
laughbefore,’saidCadbury,mystified.‘Thereisatimetolaugh,’
saidDeidre,assheswayedbackandforthadmiringherselfinthewindow,‘andatimetoweep.’HavingtakenCadbury’s
instructionsastowhatsheshouldandshouldnotdo(‘Don’tbeseenbytheTwo
Trevorsanddon’tkillanyone’),shewasgonefornearlytwohours,duringwhichCadburyhadplentyoftimetoconsiderwhathisgrandmotherhadmeantwhensherepeatedlytoldhimthatworryingistheDevil’sfavouritepastime.Ifhe’dknownthetruth
aboutDeidrehewouldhavebeenlessworriedforhisownsakebutevenmore
concernedforthesuccessfulaccomplishmentoftheirbusiness.DeidrePlunkett,ifnotanimbecile,wascertainlyatthehighendofsimple-minded.Hermother,adevoutmemberofthePlainPeople,whofearedherdaughter’soddnessmorethanherlackofunderstanding,readoutloudtoDeidredailyfromtheHolyBookinthehopethatitswisdomwoulddriveaway
herstrangeness.Inthisshefailed,notleastbecauseoftheinfluenceofherequallyoddbutmuchmorequick-wittedsister,thelateJennifer.DevotedtoDeidre,Jennifershowedhergreaterpowersofintellectbydevisinggamesforhersister,theleastappallingofwhichinvolvedtorturingsmallanimalstoobtainaconfession,puttingthemontrialontrumpedup
chargesandtheninventinghideouslycomplicatedexecutions.ThoughDeidre’spowersofunderstandingwereweakshewasnaturallycunningwhenitcametokillinginthewayawolfiscunning.Nowolfcanspeakorcountbutamathematicianwhospeaksadozenlanguageswouldbeunlikelytolastanhourwithasinglewolfinadarkwoodonacold
mountain.Andshewasnotsosimplethat,bykeepinghermouthshutandadoptingtheenigmaticnearly-smilehersisterhadtaughther,shehadn’tgainedareputationforshrewdnessandacumen,onewhichseemedablysupportedbyhertalentformurder.Anyonewhotriedtostrike
upaconversationwithDeidresoonfeltawkwardunderanemptygazethat,
paradoxically,seemedtosuggestprofoundanddismissiveguile.Hertersereplies,tersebecausesherarelyunderstoodwhatwasbeingsaidtoher,seemedtoimplysheregardedanyonespeakingtoherasawordyfool.Theenigmatic,oftenvaguelymenacing,quotationsfromthebibleofthePlainPeopleweretriggeredbythewordsofwhoeverwastalking
toher.Inthiswayherrepliesalwaysseemedrelevantifmockinglyatodds.InothercircumstancesasavvyoperatorlikeDanielCadburywouldhaveseenthroughher,butfear(notguilt,mind,becauseJenniferhadtriedtomurderhimfirstandhadunquestionablygotwhatwascomingtoher)andworrythatshekneweverythingandwasbidinghertimeblindedhim
tothetruth,oneofthesetruthsbeingthatDeidrehadtakenalikingtohim.Thefactthatshefanciedhimwaswhatmadeher,infact,moretalkativethanusual–theonlywayshehadofflirtingwithhimwasbywaitinguntilawordtriggeredoffsomethingsherecognizedfromtheHolyBook.UnfortunatelymuchoftheHolyBookconsistedofratherbrilliantthreatsofone
kindoranotheragainstunbelievers,henceCadbury’sfeelingthattherewassomethingmenacingaboutherwayoftalkingtohim.Deidrehadbeengone
nearlyanhourandahalfwhenhecouldendurenomore.HedecidedtorisktheclearchanceofwalkingintotheTrevorsandfindoutwhatwasgoingon.Shemayhavebeen
disguisedbutshewaseasytospot,sooddwasherappearanceandmanner.ItwasjustaswellCadburyfoundherwhenhedidbecauseshe’dcometotheattentionofatrioofwhatpassedfordandiesinthatpartoftheworld:tophats,redbracesandpointedslippers.Thefourofthem,Deidrewithherblondewig,madeyesandpaintedcheeks,lookedlike
thebaddreamofanunhappychild.‘Anymorelikeyouat
home,gorgeous?’mockedthegurrier,whoclearlyregardedhimselfastheMrBig.Deidrestaredathimthenletoutakindofstrangulatedwhine,herbestattemptatplayingthereluctantcoquette.‘Howaboutablowdryin
theentry?’saidoneoftheothers.Deidredidnotknow
whateitherablowdryoranentrywasbutsheknewviolencewhensheheardit.Thethirdtop-hattedgurriergrabbedherbythearm.‘Kissy-kissy!’hesaid,laughing.Cadburywasabouttostep
inwhenamaninhisfiftiescalledoutnervouslytothegurriers,‘Leaveheralone.’AllthreeturnedtoDeidre’ssaviour.
‘Whydon’tyoucomeandmakeus,fatso?’Alreadypale,theman
turnedpaleranddidn’tmove.Cadburydecidedtopretendtobearelievedloverfindinghislostsweetheart(‘Thereyouare,mydear.I’vebeenlookingforyouforhalfanhour!’).Buthewastoolate.Thegurrier’sgriponDeidre’sarmtightenedasheturnedawayfromher.Herlefthand
wasalreadyinherpocketandpullingoutashortknifewithawideblade.Withallherskinnystrengthshepuncheditintohisbackbetweenthesixthandseventhribs,tearingherrightarmfreeashefell,cryingout.Theleaderjerkedawayandturnedsothattheblowaimedathisbackstruckhiminthestomach,followedbyastriketotheheart.Thethirdgurriertriedtospeak,
holdinghishandsouttoprotecthischestandstomach.‘I…’Butheneverfinishedwhathehadtosay.Deidre’sknifetookhimthroughtheeye.Shelookedaroundthecrowdtocheckifanyoneelsewascomingforher.Butthecrowdwasstillandsoundless,unabletomakesenseofthepainteddollofawoman,thesavageemptinessofhereyesandthebloodon
theground.Cadburywalkedtowards
herinthesilence,brokenasheapproachedherbytheeyelessthirdmancallingforhismum.‘Mydear,’saidCadbury,‘mydear,’carefultobringherbackfromwhateverecstasyhadtakenholdofher.Sheblinked,recognizinghim.Slowlyheplacedhisopenpalmonherhand,carefulnottoholdor
gripasheurgedheraway.Unsurprisinglynoone
followed,andturningandtwistingintheprettybutnarrowstreetstheyweresecureenoughforthemoment,thepeacefultown’swatchmennotbeingusedtomorethananoccasionallatenightdrunkenfight.Theresultofeverythingturningtovinegarinsuchafashionwasatleastclarity:getout,keep
going.ButwaitinginSpanishLeedsforCadburywasanexpectantKittytheHare,andexplainingtohimhowthisfiascohadtakenplacealongwiththeprobabilityofCalebeinglosttotheTwoTrevorsdidn’tbearmuchthinkingabout.Cadburyneededtoshowthathe’dmadeaseriousattempttodosomethingtorecoverthesituation.Therecouldbenogreatercontrast
thanbetweenBoscoandKittytheHare,exceptthattheyboththoughtthatThomasCalewasatalismanforthefuture.(‘Thespiritoftheage,mydearCadbury,possessessomepeopleandthethingtodowhenyoufindoneistorideontheirtailsuntiltheyburnthemselvesout.’)Reachingasmalltrough
setintothewallofachurchCadburytoldDeidretowash
offthemake-upwhilehetriedtoworkoutwhattodo.Theproblemwasoneoftime:itwaslikedecidingwhentoleavetheflatsofanestuaryasthetideturned–keepingjustafewsecondsaheadmadethedifferencebetweenstrollingupontheforeshoreingoodtimeorbeingdrowned.HelookedatDeidre.All
thewaterhaddonewassmeartherougeandblackkohland
powderalloverherface.Shewasavisionofsomethingoutoftheeighthcircleofhell.‘Didyouseeanythingof
them–theTwoTrevors?’‘No.’‘Andthatloutoftheirs?’‘No.’Hewastryingtoworkout
howtogettoCaleatthistimeofnight–presumablytheywouldn’tjustletyouwalkintoamadhouse
unannounced–buthewasalsoconsideringwheretohideDeidre.IftheTwoTrevorshadn’tmurderedCalewhentheyhadsuchaneasychancethatmorningtheywerehardlylikelytotrytogetuptoanythingtonight.Sohedidn’tneedDeidrewithhim,butfindingsomewheretohideherwheretheycouldcutlooseassoonashe’dfinishedwarningCale–he
didn’thavetimeforthat.Andthentheanswerbecameclear:wholookedmorelikeamadwomanthanDeidre?Quicknow,thetideis
coming.PullingDeidrebehindhimhemadeforthePriory,itstallclocktowerdominatingtheedgeofthetown.Inlessthanfiveminuteshewasknockingontheheavyfrontdoor.
10
AsmalldoorwithinthePriory’smaingateopenedup.‘We’reclosed.Comeback
tomorrow.’‘Yes,I’msorryI’mlate,’
Cadburysaid.‘Butitwas…thewheelonthecarriage
broke…itwasallarranged.She’sveryill.’Thegatekeeperopeneda
flaponthelamphewasholdingandpointeditatDeidrewhohadherheadbowedlow.AshakeonhersleevefromCadburymadeherlookup.Familiarwiththeharrowingofthefacethatlunacycaused,stillthemangaspedatherstaringeyes,blacksmearsandmouththat
lookedasifithadmeltedtooclosetothefire.‘Please,’saidCadbury,and
pressedafive-dollarpieceintotheman’shand.‘Forpity’ssake.’Compassionandgreed
meltedthekeeper’sheart.Therewas,afterall,notsomuchtobewaryof.Thiswasaplacepeopletriedtobreakoutof,nottobreakinto.Andthegirlcertainlylookedlike
sheneededtobelockedup.Helettheminthroughthe
smalldoor.‘Haveyougotyourletter?’‘I’mafraidIleftitinmy
travelbag.That’swhywedon’thaveanycases.Thedriverwillbringtheminthemorning.’Itsoundedhorriblyunconvincing.Butthegatekeeperseemed
tohavegivenuponquestions.Exceptforone:
‘Whowastheletterfrom?’‘Ah…mymemory…oh
…Doctor…ah…Mr…’‘MrButler?Becausehe’s
stillinhisofficeoverthere.Lightsstillon.’‘Yes,’saidagrateful
Cadbury.‘ItwasMrButler.’‘Isshesafe?’the
gatekeepersaidquietly.‘Safe?’‘Doyouneedaguardian?’‘Ohno.She’sverytender-
hearted.Just…notright.’‘Busynighttonight.’‘Really?’saidCadbury,not
interestedinanyone’snightbuthisown.‘You’rethesecond
unexpectedarrivalinthelasttenminutes.’Cadburyfelthisearsbegintoburn.‘TwogentlemenfromSpanishLeedswitharoyalwarrant.’Helookedup,havingfoundthekeytounlockthesecond
gateallowingthemintothePrioryitself.‘SentthemtoMrButler,too–there’snothinginthelogbook,ofcourse.Thepaperworkinthisplacecouldn’tbeanymorebloodyuselessifthepatientswereincharge.’Thegatekeeperletthem
throughandpointedovertotheothersideofthequadrangleandtheonewindowstilllit.
‘That’sMrButler’soffice.’Oncetheywerethrough
andthesecondgatelockedbehindthemCadburystoppedtothinkwhattodonext.‘What’sthematter?’said
Deidre.ItwasrareforDeidretobeginaconversationbutshehadananimaltalentfordangerousactionandfeltinstinctivelyateasenowwherenormallyshewasontheedgeofunderstanding
whatpeopleweresayingtoher.‘TheTwoTrevorsarehere
lookingtokillThomasCale.’‘Whereishe?’‘Don’tknow,’hesaid,
lookingoveratButler’swindow.‘Themaninthatroomcouldtellusbuthe’sdead.’‘ThencallouttoThomas
Cale.’‘What?’Hewasstillso
surprisedbyhermannerthathehadtroublepickinguponherlineofthought.‘Goupthat,’shesaid,
pointingatthebelltower.‘Ringit.Calloutawarning.’Hehadbeguntosuspect
therewassomethingwitlessaboutDeidre.But,predator-sharp,she’dseenthesituationinstantlyandshewasright.Wanderingaroundaplacewithperhapsthreehundred
rooms,armedwardersandunlitquadrangleswasasurewaytogetkilled,especiallywiththeTwoTrevorswaitinginthedarklikeapairofill-disposedspiders.‘Youhidedownhere,’he
said.Shedidn’treplyand,assumingherconsent,hemovedquicklythroughtheshadowedsideofthequadandintotheunlockedbelltower.Shewaitedtobesure
hewasoutofsightandthen,keepingtotheshadows,madeherwaytothecentreofthePriory.Cadburyclimbedthestairs,
feelinghischestbegintoraspandworryingthatinordertowarnCalehehadtogiveawayhisownposition,apositionwithonlyoneexit.Hewasgoingtohavetoleaveveryquicklydowntwohundredstepsinthedark.
Oncehewasatthetophetooktwofullminutestorecoverforhisescape.Hepulledthebellropefourtimes.Thedeafeningringwouldgettheattentionofeveryonewithinamile.Helettheringingdieaway,tookadeepbreathandbellowed.‘ThomasCale!ThomasCale!Twomenareheretomurderyou!’Herangthebelloncemore.‘ThomasCale!Two
menareheretomurderyou!’Withthathewentback
downthestairs,hopingthattheTwoTrevorshadmoretoworryaboutthanhim.IfCalereallywasthevirtuosoroughneckhewascrackeduptobethentheywerenowintrouble.Ifthatdidn’tsatisfyKittytheHarethathe’ddonehisbest,thenKittycouldgetstuffed.He’dcollectLoopy-louPlunkettandworryabout
whattodowithherlater.Comingtothelastfew
stepsofthetowerhestopped,tookoutalongknifeandashortone,hispreferredcombinationwhenfightingtwopeople,andburstintothequadasifhe’dbeenblastedbyHooke’sgunpowder.Hewasacrossthequadandintothesafetyoftheshadowsinafewseconds,desperatelytryingtocontrolthewheezing
hewassufferingfromhisexertionsasittreacherouslycalled,orsoitsoundedtohisears,adeafeningappealtothetwovengefulTrevorstofindhimandcuthisthroat.Buttheydidnotcomeandsoonhewasbreathingalmostsilently.Slowlyhebegantofeelhiswaytothepointwherehe’dleftDeidre.ButDeidrewasgone.Bynowthequadwas
fillingupwiththecuriousmad,thewealthierandnon-violentmad,atanyrate,thosewhohadaccesstothebulkofthePriory,allwantingtobreaktheirroutinebycomingoutoftheirroomstofindoutwhatallthefusswasabout.Addedtotheirnumberwerealarmeddoctorsandnursestryingtousherthembacktosafety.Someofthemorehighlystrunggotthewrong
endofthestick:‘Help!’theycried.‘They’recomingtogetme.Murderers!Assassins!I’msorry!Ididn’tmeanit!Helpthepoorstruggler!Helpthepoorstruggler!’Thefusscertainlyhelped
CadburytomovemoresafelywithinthecrowdinthehopeoffindingDeidreandgettingoutwithout,hehoped,havingtodealwitheitheroftheTwoTrevors.
Beforeallofthis,CalehadbeensittinginthePriorycloisterswithSisterWray,discussingtheexistenceofGod–itwasonCale’sinsistence,achallengetoherbornoutofhisbadmoodatfailingtomakeittothetopofthehill.‘Don’t,’shesaid,‘be
takingyourill-temperoutonme–butincasesomethingelseinsideyouislisteningI’ll
tellyouaboutGod.WhenIwasuponthehilltoday,lookingoutovertheseaandskyandthemountains,Icouldfeelhimeverywhere.Don’taskmewhy,Ijustcould.Anddon’tworry,Iknowjustaswellasyoudothatmuchoflifeishardandcruel.’Sheturnedherheadandhehadthestrongestsenseshewassmiling.‘Well,notperhapsquiteaswellasyou.
ButhardandcruelasitisIstillfeelhispresence.Istillfindtheworldbeautiful.’Shelaughed,suchapleasantsound.‘What?’hesaid.‘Tellmewhatyousaw
whenyouwereupthere.Withthemountainsandtheseaandthesky.Tellmehonestly.’‘Allright,’hesaid.‘Isawa
riverdeltaeasyforalanding
fromtheseabutimpossibletodefend.UpfromthatIsawariverplain–youcouldbringanarmyupeasy…butthenitnarrowsandalandslipcutsitintwo,abouteightfeetdeep.Youcoulddefendfordaysagainstfourtimesthemen.Butthere’sasmallbypasstotheleftcutintothehill.Iftheytookthatitwouldbeover.Butthere’salsoapathtothebackofthevalley.If
youtimeditrightyoucouldpullyourmenbackinpacksofahundredorsoandgetthemouteventhoughit’sconstricted.Theycouldcovertheremainderfromthehillswhentheyneededtoabandontheline.Butanyattempttofollowwithnumbersandyou’dbejammedtightlikeacorkinabottle.’Helaughed.‘Sorry,notwhatyouwanttohear.’
‘I’mnottryingtoreformyou.’‘Don’tmindifyoudo.I’m
sickofmyself.Sickofbeinglikethis.’Hesmiledagain.‘Redeemmeallyouwant.’Apause.‘Canyoumakemebetter?’‘Icantry.’‘Doesthatmeanno?’‘ItmeansIcantry.’Anothersilence,oras
muchasthepulsingthrumof
thetreecicadaswouldpermit.‘Whataboutyou?’hesaid,
afteraminuteortwo.‘Whenyousawthesun
overthemountaintodaydidyouseearounddiscoffiresomewhatlikeagolddollar?’SisterWrayasked.‘Yes.’‘Isawaninnumerable
companyoftheheavenlyhostcrying“Holy,Holy,HolyistheLordGodAlmighty.”’
Yetanothersilence.‘Quiteabitdifferentthen,’
Calesaideventually.‘Yes,’saidSisterWray.‘ThereisnoGod,’said
Cale.Hedidnotintendthisasaninsult.Hedidnotintendtosayitatall.Itburstoutofhim.HefeltPollmovinguphisarmandwhisperingveryquietlyinhisear,sothatSisterWraywouldnotoverhear,‘Blasphemous
cunt!’Atthatmomentsomething
extraordinaryhappened,acoincidencesooutrageousthatitcouldonlybeencounteredineitheranimprobablefictionorlifeitself:fourresoundingclangssoundedfromthebelltowerandapowerfulvoicefromaboveshouted:‘ThomasCale!ThomasCale!Twomenareheretomurderyou.’
ButCalemisunderstood–althoughCadbury’sshoutwasintendedasawarningheinterpreteditasathreatfromtheheavens,topunishhimforhissacrilegiousoutburst.Atoncehelookedaround
intothedarkandrealizedthatthecloisterwasanaturaltrap–aboxwithonlyoneentrance,fourtimeslongerthanitwaswidewithacoveredwalkwaycreating
deepshadowsonallfoursides.Thebellrangoutagain,followedbytheshout,‘ThomasCale!ThomasCale!Twomenareheretomurderyou.’SisterWraybegantorise.
Hegraspedherarmandatthesametimepushedagainsttheground,sothatthewoodenhigh-backedbenchonwhichtheyweresittingtoppledbackwards.
Astheymovedthroughtheshadowsofthecloisters,gettingintoposition,thebellsandthewarningastonishedtheTrevors.Havingseparatedtomoveeithersideofthecoveredwalkway,bothdecidedtoletflywiththeirsmalloverstrungs–butbytopplingbackwardsonthebenchCalewasafractionfasterandtheboltsmoitheredoverheadwithavenomous
zip.Onhisfeet,CalegrabbedSisterWraywithhisotherhandanddraggedherbackwardsintothedarknessofthecoveredwalkway.HedumpedherforcefullynexttoastatueofStFrideswideandwhispered,‘Stayhere–don’tmove.’Therewasonlyonecourse
possibleforhiskillers.Oneofthemwouldstayneartheonlyexittohisleft,whilethe
otherwouldalreadybemovinguptheotherwalkwaytocloseinonhimfromtheright.Calewasinapinch.Ifhetriedtomakethediagonalrunacrosstheopencentreofthecloistersthey’dhaveplentyoftimetoputaboltinhimfrontandback.Hecouldn’tstaywherehewas.‘Givemeyourhabitand
yourveil.Quick.’Shedidnotwastetime
beingshocked,butshewasafraidandfumbledatthelineofbuttons.‘Quickly!’Hereachedforthefrontofherhabitandrippeditapart.Shegaspedbutdidnotflapandhelpedhimhaulitdowntoherfeet.Then,withoutasking,heliftedoffherveil.Toomuchafraidtostopandstareatwhathesaw,Calesteppedintothehabitanddraggedontheveil,ripping
awaythesmall,perforatedpatchthatcoveredhereyes.‘Don’tyoumove,’hesaidagainand,blackhabitpulleduptohisknees,launchedhimselfintothemiddlepartofthecloister.Buthedidn’ttryforthelongdiagonalruntotheexitbutsprintedstraightacrossbytheshortestwaytowardstheoppositeside.Lighterthanthedeeplyshadowedwalkway,itwas
stillonlydimlylitbythecloudedmoonandthepoorlightandblackhabitmadehismovementsindistinctandodd.Thrownbythestrangeappearanceofthenun,andwaryofadecoybeingusedtoforcethemtogivetheirpositionaway,theTwoTrevorshesitatedandletthefiguregoasitflappedintotheunseeableshadowsofthewalkway.
CalehadgiventheTwoTrevorsaproblem:whatwassimplehadbecomecomplicated.Theywere,ofcourse,notlonginworkingoutwhathadprobablyhappened.Butonlyprobably.ItwasprobablyCalewrappedinthenun’shabit.Butonlyprobably.Perhapsshewasyoungandfit.PerhapsCalehadthreatenedtocutoffherheadifshedidn’tmakethe
dash.PerhapsthenunhaddecidedtosacrificeherselfforCaleandgotawaywithit.Lugavoyhadtheexitcoveredanditwasclearthathemuststaythere;itwasKovtunatthetopofthecloisterwhohadtodecidewhetherCalewasstilltohisleftornowtohisrightdressedheadtotoeinblack.Andhehadtobequick.Thewarningfromthetowermeantthattheywere
beinglookedfor.Theproblemaboutbeingquickwasthatitmeanttheymighteasilymakeamistake.ButtoactmoreslowlymeantdealingwiththeguardsofthemoredangerouslunaticsfartherinsidethePriory.Hewasnowinatraphimself–toonesideapresumablyharmlessnun,totheotherahomicidalmaniac.Hewasunnervedevenmorebya
strangeconvulsivesoundlikeananimalbellowinginthedark.Hewasnottoknow,of
course,thathispositionwasconsiderablylessseriousthanhethought.Hewasn’ttoknowthatthesoundwasnothingmorethanCalechuckinguphisgutsattheterribledemandshehadmadeofhismiserablycollapsingconstitution.ButKovtunhad
tomoveandhisskillandinstinctmadehimchoosecorrectly.Hewentbackthewayhe’dcome,closinginonthedistressedandexhaustedboy.Calewasunarmed,notthatitwouldhavemademuchdifferenceifhe’dbeenholdingtheDanzigShankitself,andheknewthathemustmakehismovetotheexitordiewherehewas.Hewassoakedinsweat,hislips
fullofpinsandneedles.Hemovedtowardstheexitslowly–anyfasterandhewouldhavefallendown.Fortunatelyforhim,thestillspookedKovtunwasfollowingprettygingerlyhimself.NeitherCalenortheTwoTrevorshadtimeontheirsidebutallthreeknewthattoolittlepatiencecouldgetthemkilled.Calewasonallfours,feelinghisway
towardstheright-handcornerofthecloister,headingfortheexitandwhoeverwaswaitingthereandtryingnottobreathetoohardorgivehimselfawaybythrowingupagain.Behindhim,Kovtunwasslowlybeatingupthewalkway.Calerealizedthegreatestobstacletohishavinganychanceofgettingoutwasthemoonlightcomingthroughthelargeentryintothecloisters.
AnyonetryingtomakeitthroughwouldbelituplikeStCatherineonawheel.Heshuffledforwardstotheedgeofthelightandbracedhimselftorun,hopingtocatchwhoeverwasguardingtheexitbysurprise.BehindhimheheardthesoundofKovtunscuffinghisfootlightlyonanunevenslab.Heranforit–onesecond,oneandahalf,twoseconds–and
thenfeltahugecracktothesideofhisheadasTrevorLugavoy,who’dbeenwaitingjusttheothersideofthelineofmoonlight,steppedinandstruckhimwiththeheavyendofhisoverstrung.ItwouldhavetakenalotlesstoknockCaledowninhisdreadfulstateandhefelllikeasackofhammers,collapsingwithhisbacktoastatueofStHemmaofGurk.
11
Drawinghislongknife,LugavoyreacheddownandpulledtheveilfromCale’sheadtomakesurehewasgoingtokilltherightperson.‘ThomasCale?’heasked.‘Neverheardofhim,’
whisperedCale.Lugavoy,whowasleft-handed,drewbackthelongknifeandstabbedatCalewhocriedout,butthentherewasaloudTHWACK!likeanoldwomanbeatingacarpetofitsdust.TrevorLugavoysawbutdidnotunderstandthatthelowerhalfofhisforearm,withthehandthathadbeenholdingthelongknife,wasnowlyingonthecloister
floor.Heraisedhisamputatedarmandstaredatthestump,utterlybemused.Thentheshockhithimand
hesatdownheavilyonhisbackside.AblurredfiguremovedinfrontofhimandstruckTrevorKovtun,whohadmoveddirectlybehindCale,inthechest.ItisnoeasythingtokillamaninstantlywithaswordbutKovtunwasclosetodeath
withinsecondsofslumpingtotheground.Lugavoyhadmovedontohiskneesandhadtakenholdofhisseveredforearm,asifinthepreliminarystagesofputtingitbackon.Thenhelookedupandsawacreaturewhoseveryeyesandnoseandmouthseemedtohavebeensmearedacrossitsfaceincoloursofblueandred.Whetherhesawanythingmoreterribleafter
thatcannotbeknown–noonereturnsfromthatplace,scheduledorunscheduled.HavingfinishedoffTrevor
Lugavoy,somethingthat,toDeidre’svexation,tookthreestrokesratherthanone,sheturnedbacktotheastonishedboysittingknackeredbeforeherandsaid,‘AreyouThomasCale?’Dog-wearyashewas,Cale
wastoosuspiciousbynature
toanswerquickly.Whatifshewasjustarivalassassinandwantedtokillhimherself?Hepantedmoreheavilytosignalhecouldnotspeakandheldouthisrighthand,palmforward,inagestureofcompliance.Itdidn’twork.‘AreyouThomasCale?’
shedemanded.‘It’sallright,Deidre.It’s
him.’ItwasCadbury,with
fouralarminglylargemenfromthedangerouslunaticsectionofthePriory.‘Marvellouswork,Deidre.Marvellous,marvellous,marvellous.Nowbeagoodgirlandputawaythesword.’Meekasalittlegirlmade
fromsugarandspice,Deidredidasshewastold.‘IfImaysayso,’said
Cadbury,toCale,‘youdon’tlookatallwell.’
‘I’dsay,’apausetostopbeingsick,‘thatthings,’anotherpause,‘couldbealotworse,’repliedCale,puttingouthishand.Cadburypulledhimupand
lookedhimover,smiling.‘Iappreciateyourdesiretomakeupforallyourwickednessbutareyoureallysureyou’recutoutforHolyOrders?’CaletookoffSisterWray’s
habitandpickeduptheveilLugavoyhaddroppedonthepavement.‘Stayhere,’hesaidto
Cadburyandwalkedoffwearilyintotheshadowsofthecoveredwalkway.‘It’sallright,it’sme,’he
calledoutintothedark.‘You’resafe,I’vegotyour…’hewasn’tsurewhattocallthem,‘…clothes.’Heplacedthehabitandtheveil
onasmallsectionofpavementilluminatedbythemoonandthenstoodback.‘Thefacething’sabittorn.Sorry.’Nothinghappenedforamomentandthenashockinglywhitearmmovedintothelightandpulledthehabitandveilslowlyintothedark.Therewasashortperiodofrustling.‘Areyouallright?Not
hurt?’saidSisterWrayfrom
theshadows.‘Nothurt.’Apause.‘Are
youallright?’Caleaskedher.‘Yes.’‘Somebodyrescuedme.
DoyouthinkitwasGod?’‘Afteryoutoldhimtohis
facehedidn’texist?’‘Perhapshewantstosave
me–forbetterthings.’‘Youmustthinkpretty
wellofyourself.’‘AsithappensIdon’tthink
itwasGod–thewomanwhosavedme,shedoesn’tlooklikeshe’shadmuchtodowithangels.Perhapsthedevilwasbehindmeallthetime.’‘So,’saidPoll,fromthe
dark.‘Soyou’restillthechosenoneandnotjustanastylittleboywithagiftforbloodshed.’‘Iwashoping,’replied
Cale,‘thatyoumighthavetakenoneinthegob.You’d
bettercomeandmeetourredeemers.’Buthalfwaydownthe
cloistershechangedhismind.‘Perhapsyoushouldn’t.Therearepeople,Idon’tknow…it’sbetternottocometotheirattention.’Hevanishedintothedark
butSisterWraydecidedshe’dhadenoughofdoingasshewastoldbyCale.Sheeasedforwarduntilshewasableto
hideattheleft-handcornerofthecloister.Calewastalkingtoatallman,elegantlydressedinblack,andnexttothemawomanwithherbacktoSisterWraywhohadclearlylostinterestinwhatwasgoingonaroundherandwaslookingawayintothedarknessatthebackofthecloister.WhenDeidrePlunkettturnedaround,SisterWraydrewbackintothe
shadowsandbegantotaketheviewthatCalehadbeenright.Itwasafacebestavoided.‘Wecan’tstay,’said
Cadbury.‘Therewassomeunpleasantnessearlierinthetownandit’stimeweweren’there.Sheneedsascrubandtogetoutoftheseclothes.’‘Whataboutthebodies?’‘Consideringtheywere
abouttokillyoubeforewe
steppedinIdon’tthinkit’sunreasonabletoaskyoutosortthemout.Don’tthinkyouhavetothankher,bytheway.’‘Oh,yes.Thanks,’said
Cale,callingouttoDeidre,whomerelystaredathimforamomentandthenlookedawayagain.Hewouldhaveofferedtotakehisrescuerstohisroombutitwasclearfromthepresenceofthewatchmen
thattheyweregoingnowhere.ThenthefuriousDirectorofthePrioryarrivedandwasabouttodemandanexplanationwhenshesawthetwodeadmenandthedismemberedarmfollowedbyDeidrePlunkett’sface.Theblooddrainedfromherlips,aswellitmight,butshewasmadeofheavy-dutycloth.‘Comehere,’shesaidtothemboth,andbacked
awayfromthecloisters’entrance.Forseveralfutileminutes
CaleandCadburytriedtoexplainwhathadhappeneduntiltheywereinterruptedbySisterWray.‘Iwasawitnessandparticipant.Thosetwomencametokillusboth.WhyIcan’tsay,butitwascompletelyunprovokedandhadthe…’shepaused,‘…youngwomanandthisman
notinterveneditwouldbeourbodieslyinginthecloister.’‘Andwhat,’saidthe
Director,‘amIsupposedtodowiththebodiesthatarehere?’‘I’lldealwiththem,’said
Cale.‘I’msureyouwill,’said
theDirector.‘I’msurethat’sthekindoftalentyouhaveinabundance.’‘Callthemagistrate,’said
SisterWray.‘He’sinHeraklion,’
repliedtheDirector.‘Hecouldn’tgethereuntillateafternoontomorrowatbest.’ShelookedatCadburyandDeidre.‘We’llhavetokeepyouincustodyuntilthen.’‘Idon’tthinkthatI,normy
youngcolleague,’CadburynoddedatDeidre,‘wouldbeatallhappyaboutthat.’Thenewsofthethreedeathsin
themarkethadobviouslynotyetreachedthePriory.Onceitdidtheywerecooked:therewouldbenoexplainingawaythosedeathsaswellastheTrevors.HestartedtoconsidertheirchancesofcuttingtheirwayoutofthePriory.‘Theycanstaywithmein
myroom,’saidCale.‘Thewindowsarebarredandyoucanputasmanyguards
outsideasyoulike.Ithinkthat’sfair.’TheDirectorhadthesense
tobeunnervedbytheprospectofactuallyarrestingCadburyandtheweirdyoungwoman–ifthatwaswhatitwas.‘Igiveyoumyword,’saidCale,somethingthatmeantabsolutelynothingbutwhich,henoted,seemedtosatisfymanypeople.Butwantingtheeasiestoutcome
persuadedtheDirector.Sheturnedtothemostsenioroftheguards.‘ShowthemtoMrCale’s
room.YouandallofyourmenremainoutsideuntilIhaveyourelieved.’SheturnedtoSisterWray.‘I’dliketotalktoyouinprivate.’Fiveminuteslaterthethree
ofthemhadbeendeliveredtoCale’sroomandthedoorlocked.Beforethekeyhad
turnedCadburywascheckingtheimpressivelookingbarsonthewindow.HeturnedtoCale.‘Andwe’rebetteroffhere
because?’‘BecauseIdon’tcareto
havebarsonthewindowifIcandoanythingaboutit.’Caletookashivfromthedrawerinthesingledeskandstartedstabbingatthewall.Itcrumbledsurprisinglyeasily,
becauseitwasmadeofgravelandduststucktogetherwithsoap,torevealametalstud,theanchortobarsthatloopedthroughthewallunderthewindowitself.‘I’vebeenlooseningthemoffforawhile.Youcanbeoutintenminutes.’‘Howfardownisit?’‘Aboutthreefeet.They
haven’tkeptdangeroushead-bangersinhereforyears.The
barslookimpressivebutinsidethewallit’smostlyrust.’‘Notbad,’saidCadbury.
‘Forgivemefordoubtingyoubutoneofmygreatestfaultsislackoftrust.’HelookedoveratDeidre.‘Gotanysoap?’IttookCadburynearlyhalf
anhourofsullenlyenduredscrubbingtoridDeidre’sfaceofthegreasepaintwhileCale
dugawayatthealreadyweakenedwall.WhatgraduallyemergedfromthesoapandwaterwasamorefamiliarDeidre–pale,thin-lippedbutstillmad-eyed.TheyputherinoneofCale’ssuits;itwasbaggy,withthetrousersheldupbyabeltthattheyhadtocutoutanextranotchagoodsixinchesfurtheron.Duringthetenminutes
moreittooktoremovethebars,CaleminedCadburyforinformationabouttheTwoTrevors.‘Ican’tbesureitwastheRedeemerswhosentthembutforyearstheyoperatedoutofRedeemerterritoryforaprice:ifyouwantapeacefulretirementunderourprotectiondowhatweaskwhenweaskit.’‘Thereareotherpeople
whodon’tcareforme,’said
Cale.‘Notwhocouldgettothe
TwoTrevorsoraffordthemiftheycould.ItwastheRedeemers.’‘Youcan’tbecertain.’‘Certain.No.’‘Iftheyweresowonderful,
howcomealittlegirlkilledthem?’‘She’snotalittlegirland
theTrevorsgotunlucky.Onejobtoofar.’
‘Thethingaboutyourfriend…’‘She’snotmyfriend.’‘…isshelookssortof
familiar.’Cadburychangedthe
subject.‘Youmightwanttothink
aboutcomingwithus.’‘Me?Ihaven’tdone
anythingwrong.’‘Idon’tthinktheolddear
whorunsthisplacewillthink
that.’‘I’mnotworriedabout
her.’‘Youcan’tstayhere.They
won’tstop.’‘IknowtheRedeemersa
lotbetterthanyoudo.I’llhavetohaveathink.’‘GotamessageforKitty?’Calelaughed.‘Tellhim
I’mgrateful.Andtoyou,andyourmadfriend.’‘Itoldyou,she’snotmy
friend,andI’mnotsureKittyislookingforgratitudeexactly.YoumightbesaferinLeedsthananywhereelse.’‘P’rapsI’lllookyouboth
upnexttimeI’mthere.’Andthatwasthat.
NextmorningtheDirectorarrivedwithSisterWrayandflewintoanalmightyrage.‘Theyoverpoweredme,’saidCale,andthatwasall.There
wasmuchshoutingandagooddealofpersonalabuse,andevenmorewhenitbecameclearthatthetwofugitiveshadbeenresponsibleforthreefurtherdeaths,allofwhichhadtobeexplainedtothemagistratefromHeraklion.TheylockedCaleupforthreedays,butashehadpatentlyhadnothingtodowiththemurdersinthetownand,asSisterWray
pointedoutwithconsiderableforce,he’dbeentheintendedvictiminthecloisters,theywereforcedtolethimgo.TheDirectorgaveCaleoneweek’snoticetoleaveontheentirelyjustifiablegroundsthatheposedaseriousrisktoeveryoneatthePriory.‘Tobehonest,’hesaidto
SisterWray,‘Iwasabitsurprisedshegavemeaslongasthat.Ishouldthankyou,
no?’‘Ithoughtitwasonlyfair,’
shesaid.‘Wherewillyougo?Don’ttellme.’Helaughedatthechange
ofdirection.‘Notsure.IcouldgonorthbutIhearit’sgrimupthere.Besides,Boscowon’tleavemealonewhereverIgo.ProbablyCadburywasright,I’msaferinSpanishLeedsthanwanderingaboutinthe
bundu.’‘Idon’tknowwhata
bunduisbutyou’renotwellenoughtobeonyourown–oranythinglikeit.’‘Thenit’ssettled.Leedsit
is.’‘CanIaskyoutopromise
meonething?’‘Youcanask.’‘StayawayfromthatKitty
theHareperson.’‘Easiersaidthandone.I
needmoneyandpowerandKittyhasboth.’‘IdrisPukkecaresforyou–
stickwithhim.’‘Hedoesn’thavemoneyor
power.Andhehashisownproblems.’Therewasamoment’s
silence.SisterWraywentovertoacupboardinwhichthereweremanysmalldrawersandopenedtwoofthembeforeplacingtwo
packetsonthetable,onesizeable,theothersmall.‘ThisisTipton’sWeed.’
Sheopenedthepacketandpouredatinyamountintothepalmofherhand.‘Usethismuchinacupofboilingwater,letitcoolanddrinkiteverydayatthesametime.You’llbeabletogetitfromanyherbalistinSpanishLeedsbuttheywillcallitSingen’sWortorChase-
Devil.’‘What’sitfor?’‘Ithelpstochaseawaythe
devil.Itwillhelpyoufeelbetter–eventhingsout.Ifyoustarttofeeldizzyorsensitivetothelightcutdownthedosetillitstops.It’sgoodforwoundsaswell.’Shetappedtheotherpacket
twice.‘ThisisPhedraandMorphine.I’vethoughtmorethantwiceaboutgivingyou
this.’Sheopenedthepacketandtippedatinyamountofgreenandwhitespeckledpowderontothetablethen,pickingupasmallknife,separatedenoughtocoverafingernail.‘Takethiswhenyou’redesperate.Asdesperateasyouweretheothernight,nototherwise.Itwillgiveyoustrengthforafewhours.Butitbuildsupinthebodysoifyoutakeitfor
morethanafewweekswhatyou’vesufferedoverthelastfewmonthswillfeellikeaminorinconvenience.Doyouunderstand?’‘I’mnotstupid.’‘No.Butthetimeis
coming,Iguess,whenitmayseemthelesseroftwoevils.Takeitformorethanthreeweeksinall–Imeantwentydoses–andyou’llfindoutitprobablyisn’t.’
‘Takeitallnow,’saidPoll.‘Putyourselfandtherestoftheworldoutofitsmisery.’TellingPolltokeepquiet,
SisterWraytookCalethroughtheboilingupoftheTipton’sandmadehimcountoutthePhedraandMorphineintotwentylotssohecouldseehowlittlehecouldtake.Therewasaknockatthedoor.‘Comein.’OneofthePrioryservantsentered.
‘Please,Sister,’saidthegirl,clearlyexcited.‘AbeautifulwomaninacarriageisaskingforThomasCale.Shehassoldiersandservantsdressedalamodeandwithwhitehorses.TheDirectorsayshe’stocomeatonce.’‘Whodoyou…?’But
SisterWraywasalreadytalkingtoCale’sback.
12
It’soneofthegreatestmistakesofthecultivatedpersontotakeitasgiventhatbecausetheyhavesophisticatedmindstheyalsohavesophisticatedemotions.Butwhatkindofsoulfeels
sophisticatedhatredorsophisticatedgrieffor,say,amurderedchild?Isthebrokenheartoftheeducatedandrefinedpersondifferentfromthatofthesavage?Whynotsaythattheenlightenedandknowledgeablefeelthepainofchildbirth,orthekidneystone,inadifferentwaytounpolishedcommonerorchav?Intelligencehasmanyshades,butrageisthesame
coloureverywhere.Humiliationtastesthesametoeveryone.AsforCale’sheart,itwas
asmuchasophisticatedasasavagething.NograndmasterinthegameofchesspossessedthesubtleskillsthatCalehadathiscommandwhenreadingalandscape–howtodefendortoattackit,ortoadjustthatreadinginasecondbecauseofachangein
thewindorrain,howtofinessetheknownandunknownrulesofabattlethatcanbealteredbythegodsatanytimewithoutconsentorconsultation.Lifeitself,inallitshorrorandincomprehensibility,playsoutineventhesimplestskirmish.WhowascoolerormoreintelligentthanCaleinthismostterribleofhumantrials?Butthisprodigyofthe
complexityofthingsrusheddownthestairs,heartburstingwithhope:She’scomebacktothrowherselfonmyforgiveness.Everythingwillbeexplained.I’llturnherdownandthreatenher.I’lltreatherasifIcan’trememberher.I’llwringherneck.Shedeservesit.I’llmakeherweep.Thensanityofakind
returned:Whatifit’snother?
Whatifit’ssomeoneelse?Whoelsecoulditpossiblybe?Shewantssomething.Shewon’tgetit.Andonitwent,themadnessbreakinginsidehimasbothhiswildandintelligentheartscontendedwitheachotherforcommand.Hestoppedandfoundhimselfbreathinghard.‘Getsomegrasp,’hesaidaloud.‘Controlyourself,takeiteasy.Simmerdownandkeep
yourhead.’Hewassweating.Maybe,
hethought,itwasthatteashegaveme.Don’tgoinlikethis.Thentheinsanityreturned.Perhapsshe’llleaveifIcomelate.Perhapsshehappenedtobepassingandshecameinonawhimandshe’salreadyregrettingit.Shemightjustleave,worryingaboutwhatI’lldo.Andthenthegreatermadmanvisited.She’scome
tolaughatme,knowingsheissafenowthatI’msickandweak.Butprideofakindwonout
overevenmadness,fearandlove.Hewentbacktohisroom,washedquicklyinthebasin–heneededto–andchangedhisshirt.Slowly,becauseofthefearthathemightagainsweattoomuch,hemadehiswaytotheDirector’soffice.Another
momentoutsidethedoortogatherhimself.Thenthefirmknock.Thentheentrancebeforethewords‘Comein’werehalfwayoutoftheDirector’smouth.Andthereshewas–RibanotArbell.Break,fracture,split,fragmentandsmash.Whatdidhispoorheartnotendure?Itwasallhecoulddotostopacryofdreadfulloss.Hestoodquitestill,staringat
her.‘Wouldyoumindterribly
ifIspoketoThomasalone?’shesaidtotheDirector.InothercircumstancesCalewouldhavebeenastonished,evenifpleasantly,atthegracioustoneofRiba’srequestandtheclearunderstandingbybothwomenthatitcouldnotbeconfusedforthekindofquestiontowhichtheanswer
mightbe‘No’.Thetoneofhervoicewasoneofcharmingandimplacableauthority.TheDirectorsimperedinobediencetoRiba,lookedmalignantlyatCaleandleft,closingthedoorsbehindher.Asilencefollowed,weightywithstrangeemotions,allofthemhorrible.‘Icanseeyouwere
expectingsomeoneelse,’she
saidatlast.‘I’msorry.’It’struethatshewassorrytoseehimsodisappointedandsoill,thecirclesaroundhiseyessodark–butitwasalsotruethatshewasputoutatbeingthecauseofsuchterribledisappointment.Itwasnotflattering,particularlywhenshehadexpectedtosurprisehimwithdelightatherwonderfulstoryofloveandtransformation.Butinthis
legendofpain,misery,slaughterandmadnessitisaswelltoberemindedthateverythingisnotfortheworstintheworstofallpossibleworlds,astorywheretodayisbad,tomorrowdreadfuluntilatlastthemostappallingthingofallhappens.Therearehappyendings,virtueissomethingrewarded,thekindandgenerousgetwhattheydeserve.Thisishowitwas
withRiba.Shecameintothestoryofpoor,tormented,miserableCaleinthemostrevoltingofways:boundhandandfootandwaitingtobeevisceratedinordertosatisfythecuriosityofRedeemerPicarboconcerningthebodilysourceofthemonstrousimpuritythatpossessedallwomen.Ribaknewperfectlywell,becauseCalehadconstantlyreminded
her,thathewashistory’smostreluctantsaviourandthatifhe’dhadittodoagainhewouldhaveleftPicarbotohisrepellentinvestigations.Shedidn’treallybelievehe’dhavelefthertodie,atleastsheprobablydidn’tbelieveit.Youneverquiteknewwhathewascapableof.Afterthisnarrowestofsqueaks,herclimbtoprominencewasremarkablyeasy.Shewasa
beautifulgirl,ifunusuallyplump,butinMemphisbeautywascommonplace.HelenofTroyhadbeenborninMemphisandwasgenerallyconsideredtoberatherplaincomparedtoothers.WhatbroughtRibatotheattentionofagreatmanymeninthecitywasthatshewaskind,good-naturedandintelligent,butalsothatherbody,sonsytothepointof
fubsy,expressedinfleshthegenerosityandcomfortofherheart.ServanttothehatedArbell(thoughnothatedbyRiba),shehadbeencaughtasmuchashermistressinthefallofMemphisandthedreadfulflightfromtheRedeemers,inwhichsomanyoftheMaterazziwhosurvivedSilburyHilldiedfromhungeranddisease.ThoughshewasstillArbell’s
servantwhenthosethatremainedoftheMaterazzistumbledintoSpanishLeeds,itwasinevitablethathereasycharmandwitwouldbringhertheattentionofmenofeverykindandclass.And,unliketheMaterazziennes,shehadtheoverwhelmingadvantageoflikingmenratherthandespisingthem.Suchchoiceshehad!Shewasadoredbycoal-carriers,
butchers,lawyersanddoctors,aswellasthearistocratsofMemphisandSpanishLeeds.Fortunatelyforherpeaceofmind,fromamongthisarrayofpossiblefutures(bigwigornonentity?)shefellinlovewithArthurWittenberg,AmbassadortotheCourtofKingZogandonlysonofthePresidentoftheHanse,thesyndicateofallthewealthycountriesofthe
BalticAxis.Hisfatheropposedtheirmarriage,understandably,untilhemetherandwassocharmedhealmostforgothimselfandwasonthevergeofattemptingtobetrayhissoninthemannerofaGreektragedybeforehepulledhimselftogetheranddeterminedtobehave.Howwouldstorytellersandmakersofoperasliveifeveryonewas
sorestrained?Atanyrate,inamatterofafewmonthssherosefromstarvingnobodytobecomingawomanofvastwealthandenormouspoliticalinfluence.Still,despiteCale’sshock
shewassympathetictohisdisappointment–ifalittlepiquedconcerningherhurtvanity–andslowlyallowedhimtimetopullhimselftogetherbychattingaway
amusingly,andself-deprecatingly,aboutherrisetofortune.Afteranhourorso,Calewashimselfagainandabletohidehisdisappointmentandhisconsiderableshameoverthedepthofthatdisappointment.Hewas,intheend,pleasedtoseeher,amusedbyhercurrentgoodluckwhilealsoconsideringhowitmightbemadeuseof.Shechatted
awayaboutthepastandhadafundofamusingstoriestotellabouttheabsurdityoflifeamongstthenobility.‘WasArbellatyour
wedding?’‘Shewas,andveryhappy
tobeso.’‘I’msuresheprobably
fittedyouinbeforepoppingovertothepigmantohelpfeedhisporkers.Ihearthey’reveryhardup,the
Materazzi.’‘Notquitesomuchany
more.ConnhasbecomeagreatdarlingoftheKingandhelistenstonooneelse.There’smoneyaboutandapositiondiscussed.’‘What?’‘Theskinderisthathe’llbe
madesecond-in-commandtoGeneralMusgrovetorunthearmyoftheentireAxis–ifhecangetthemtoagreetofight
theRedeemers.’‘Willthey?’‘Arthursaysthey’lltalk
butdonothinguntiltheRedeemersmakeamove,bywhichtimeit’llbetoolate.’‘IsVipondemployed?’‘Yes,butnotwithanyof
thepowerhewantsorneeds.TheSwisshaveputhimouttopasture,Arthursays,andIdrisPukkeeatsthegrasswithhim.’
Calelookedather,sizingupanychangehergoodluckmighthavemadeinhersympathiestowardshim.‘Doyoutrustyourhusband
–hisability,Imean?’‘Yes.’‘Thendohimagoodturn
andintroducehimproperlytoVipondandIdrisPukke.He’llseethatthey’vebeenabouttheirbusinessandheneedsthem.Theyneedhisinfluence
andmoney.’‘He’smyhusband.Ican’t
tellhimwhattodo.’Calenoddedandremained
silent,allowinghertorealizeshehaddisappointedhim,anddeeply.Astheywalkedthroughthegardens,avoidingthecloister,hechattedaboutthebirdsandtheflowersandwhatitwaslikeatnighttolookupatthemilk-whiteroadofstarsthatwheeled
acrossthesky.Therewasapause.Helaughed.Thatwasgood,shethought,he’dletgoofthebusinessaboutVipondandIdrisPukke.‘It’safunnyoldworld,’he
said,casually.‘Because?’‘Well,Iwasthinkinghow
verysingularandspooky-likelifeis–thatnowyou’reabeautifulladywithagreatbignabobtolookafteryou,when
hardlyanytimeagoyouwerelyingonawoodentableboundandbeatenandabouttohaveyourgibletsspiltallovertheshop.WhatifI’dkeptonwalking?Iwasabadboyinthosedays–Imighthave.ButIdidn’t.IturnedaroundandI…’‘Verywell.Enough.
You’vemadeyourpoint.’Caleshrugged.‘Iwasn’t
makingapoint.Iwasjust
talkingaboutoldtimes.’‘I’mwellawareofhow
muchIoweyou,Cale.’‘SoamI.’Andwiththattheywalked
theremainderofthegardensinsilence.
ThenextdayheaskedRibatolethimreturnwithhertoSpanishLeeds.‘Isitsafe?’sheasked.‘Foryou?’
‘Foryoutogoback.Areyouwellenough?’‘No–I’mnotwellenough.
Butit’snotsafehereoranywhere.IthoughtifIgotfarenoughawayhe’dleavemealonebutBosco’sgoingtocomeformewhateverIdo.’Calewaswrongaboutthis
buthiswrongconclusionwastheonlyreasonableone.‘You’regoingtodestroy
theRedeemers?’‘Youmakemesoundmad
whenyouputitlikethat.GivemeanotherchoiceandI’lltakeit.’‘Youmusthavetravelling
clothesandanicehat.’‘I’dlikeanicehat.’He
thoughtforaminute.‘WillIbeallowedinsidethecarriagewithyou?’‘Youmustbemore
agreeableifyou’regoingto
dogreatthings.Arthurhasalottoteachyou.Heknowsyousavedmylifeandisdesperatetorepayyou.Don’tthrowhisgoodwillaway.’Helaughed.‘Teachme
howtobehaveonthejourney.I’lllisten,Ipromise.’‘You’dbetter–yourfists
can’tprotectyounow.’Helookedather.Baleful
wouldbetheword.‘Sorry,’shesaid,and
laughed.‘Mygoodluckhasmademepuffedupandsnooty.That’swhatArthursays.’‘Whencanweleave?’‘Tomorrowmorning.
Early.’‘Howabouttomorrow
morning,late?’Butevenlatemorningwas
badforCale.Hemadeitglass-eyedintothecoachbutlaidhimselfdownonthe
paddedseatandfellasleepformorethansixhours.Watchinghimfroma
distancewasKevinMeatyard,whohadrealizedthattherumoursofthedeathsatthePriorymustbetrueandthathewasnowunemployedaswellasunprotectedinatownwherehewaswanted,admittedlyforamurderhehadnotcommitted.NooneinCypruswastohearofhimfor
manyyears,butwhentheydiditwasinthehopethathehadforgottenallaboutthem.Butthat’sanotherstory.
ThecarriagecarryingCaleandRibastoppedafterfourhours’travelbutherefusedtobedisturbedandRibaandherentourageatewellwithouthim.Hewokeupslowlyanhouraftertheyrestartedthejourneybutitwasmorelike
regainingconsciousnessthanemergingfromrestfulsleep.Hedidnot,couldnot,openhiseyesforagoodtwentyminutes.Buttherewassomethingpleasurabletobeheard:RibasingingandhummingsoftlytoherselfasongthatwastheverylatestthinginSpanishLeeds.
Pleasetellmethetruthaboutlove,Isitreallytruewhattheysing?
Isitreallytruewhattheysing?Thatlovehasnoending?Comeintotheshadeofmyparasol,Comeunderthecoverofmyumbrella,Iwillalwaysbetruetoyou,Andyouwillloveme,mylove,forever.Ohtellmethetruthaboutlove,Isittrueorisitlies,Thatfirstloveneverdies?Butpleasedon’ttellmeifitisn’tso,
Pleasedon’ttellmeifitisn’tso,ForIdon’twanttoknow,ForIdon’twanttoknow.
Hesatupslowlyandshe
stoppedsinging.‘Areyousick?’‘Yes.’‘Areyouverysick?’‘Yes.’‘Iwasafraidtoaskyou,do
youhaveanynewsofthegirls?’‘Girls?’
‘ThegirlsIwaswithintheSanctuary.DoyouthinkBoscohaskilledthemalready?’‘Probablynot.’Shewassurprisedatthis
andhopeful.‘Why?’‘Hehasnoreasontokill
them.’‘Hehasnoreasontokeep
themalive.’‘No.’
‘Ithought,’shesaid,afterasilence,‘hemightbekeepingthemtouseagainstyou.’‘Notanymore,obviously.’‘CanIdoanythingtohelp
them?’‘No.’‘Areyousure?’‘Youknowyoucan’thelp
themsowhykeepaskingifyoucan?Feelingguilty?’‘Forbeingaliveand
happy?Sometimes.’
‘Butnotallthetime.’Sheletoutasigh.‘Notallthetime.Noteven
mostofthetime.’‘Justenoughguilttomake
youfeelbetteraboutyourselfandmakeitallrighttoenjoyyourhappiness.Goahead.Theycan’tbehappy,sobehappyforthem.’‘It’snotuptoyoutotell
mewhattodo.I’maveryimportantpersonandyou
havetodoasIsay.’Helaughed.‘Yes.I’ve
decidedtodoasI’mtoldfromnowon.Abeautifulrichwomanwhoowesmeherlife–Icouldtakeordersfromsomeonelikethat.’‘Well,youcan’tkill
everyoneyoudon’tlikeanymore.ImeantitwhenIsaidyou’llhavetolearntobeagreeable.’‘Agreeable?’Hesaidthe
wordasifitwereonehe’dheardbeforebutneverexpectedtoneedinanypracticalway.ItwasgoodtoseeRibaagainanditwasapleasuretoseehersowellaccountedfor.Hedidn’tknowwhethertosayitbuthesaiditanyway.‘IfoundoutwhatPicarbowantedyoufor,whathewasdoing.’Hetoldherplainlyandquickly.‘Horrible,’shesaidsoftly,
‘andmad.’‘Boscothoughtpretty
muchthesame–thathewasmad,Imean–that’swhyhemightkeeptherestofthemalive.Boscodisapproved.’‘Youdon’tseem,’shesaid,
‘tothinkofBoscoasbadlyasyouusedto.’‘Iwouldn’tsaythat.I
understandhimbetterandI’dliketounderstandhimevenmorebeforeIcuthishead
13
FarawayfromtheFourQuarters,inthegreat,green,greasyjunglesofBrazil,astormofmeasurelesspowerisapproachingitsheight.Windsblow,rainlashes,thereislightningandthunder
enoughtocrackopentheworld–andthenitmovesintodeclinebyafractionofafractionofaninfinitesimalnotevenapuffofairstrongenoughtoblowasinglespeckofdustoffaslipperyslope.Thegreatstormisbeginningtodisperse.
RedeemerGeneralGil,nowwiththehonorarytitleofDefenderoftheHolyGlee,
cameintoPopeBosco’swarroomandbowedslightlylesshumblythanwasowed.‘Anything?’Therewasnodoubt,
despitethefactthattheyweresupposedtobegoingaboutthebusinessofbringingtheworldtoanend,thatthisenquiryreferredtoThomasCale.‘AsItoldYourHoliness
yesterday,thelastnewswas
thathewasinLeedsandprobablysufferingtheeffectsofdysentery–illatanyrate.He’sleftnowbutI’mnotableasyettosaywhere.’‘Haveyouputmorepeople
onit?’‘AsIsaidIwould–’he
paused,‘yesterday.’‘Goodpeople?’‘Thebest.’Thiswastrue
enoughasfarasitwent,whichwasnotveryfar,given
thatthegoodpeoplehehadoutlookingforCaleweretheTwoTrevors.Gilhaddecidedthattheendoftheworld,aprojectinwhichhedeeplybelieved,wouldtakeplaceagooddealsoonerifitwereprecededbyCaleannouncingittoGodpersonally.Bosco’sobsessivebeliefthatthedeathoftheworldcouldnotcomeunlessCaleadministereditwasadelusioninGil’s
estimation–ablasphemyhewascarefultoconceal.CalewasnevertheincarnationofGod’sanger,hewasjustadelinquentboy.OncehewasconfirmedasdeadBoscowouldjusthavetogetonwithit.‘Iwanttoknow
immediatelyyouhearanything.’‘Ofcourse,Your
Holiness.’
ItwasadismissalbutGildidnotmove.ThroughouttheconversationBoscohadnottakenhiseyesfromthegreatmapoftheAxispowerslaidoutononeofthefourmassivetablesintheroom.‘Youaren’tworriedhe’ll
giveawayyourplantoattacktheAxisthroughArnhemland?’‘Awayfromhere,Caleis
merelyathorninhisown
side.HecouldshoutitoutinthemiddleofKirkgateonmarketdayandnoonewouldlisten–leastofallIkardorthatbuffoonZog.Wastheresomethingelse?’‘Yes,YourHoliness.The
endoftheworld.Thereareproblems.’Boscolaughed,delighted
atthis.‘Didyouexpecttobring
abouttheapocalypsewithout
them?’‘Thereareunanticipated
problems.’gilwasfindingitharderthesedaysnottobeirritatedbyhispontiff.‘Yes?’‘Movingthepopulations
outoftheterritorieswe’veannexedisdivertingmoresuppliesandmaterialsthanwecaneasilyprovide.Therearetoomanypeopletomovetothewestandnotenough
foodortransporttodothejobwithoutrobbingtheexactsamestocksfromourmilitants.Wemustslowdownoneortheother.’‘I’llthinkaboutit.What
else?’‘Brzcacametoseeme.’
Brzcawasamanwithatalent,ageniusifyouwill,inthematterofkillinginnumbers.Hewasinchargeofthepracticalproblemof
transportingcapturedpeopleintothewestandbeginningtheprocessofbringinganendtoGod’sgreatestmistake.‘He’shavingproblemswithhisexecutioners.’‘Hehascompletefreedom
ofaccesstoanysuitablepersoninthemilitant.Imadeitclearhehaspriority.’‘I’vedoneeverythingyou
asked,’saidanincreasinglyirritatedGil.
‘Thenwhat’stheproblem?’‘Toomanyexecutioners
arebecomingsick–inthehead,Imean.’‘Heknowstheimportance
ofthis,whydidn’thesaysomethingbeforenow?’‘Mostlytheyonlybegan
theirdutiesthreemonthsago.Itturnsoutthatkillingtwothousandpeopleaweekbeginstotakeatollaftera
fewmonths.Nearlyhalfofhispeopleareunabletocontinue.It’snotsohardtounderstand.Iknowit’snecessarybutIwouldn’twanttodoit.Butthereitis.’Boscosaidnothingfora
whileandthenwalkedtothewindow.Finally,aftersometime,heturnedbacktoGil.‘YouknowIamproudof
them,mypoorlabourers.WhenIthinkofwhatweare
obligedtodoitmakesmesickwithdread.Toendurewhattheymustendureandremainadecentperson–well,it’sclearwhatspiritualstrengthitrequires.Ishestillhere?’‘Yes.’‘Sendhimtome.Together
wewilldiscoverawaytohelpourpeoplefindthespiritualcouragetocontinue.’‘YourHoliness.’Gil
startedtowithdraw.Boscocalledoutafterhim.‘IknowBrzcaofold:tell
himnottokillthosewho’vefailed.Wemustmakeanallowanceforhumanweakness.’
14
‘Name?’VagueHenrilookedathis
interrogatorwithanexpressionofhelpfulbewilderment.‘I’msorry,theydidn’ttell
meyourname.’
‘Notmyname.Yourname.’Apause–forjustaslong
ashethoughthecouldgetawaywith.‘Yes.’‘What?’‘Yes,Isee.’‘So,whatisit?’Despitethedifficultyofhis
situation,VagueHenriwasenjoyingappearingtobedimwhilereallybeingacheeky
littlesod,adangerouslinehehadperfectedovermanyyearsoftormentingRedeemersandthereasonforthenameCalehadgivenhimfiveyearsago.Nownooneknewhimasanythingelse.‘DominicSavio.’‘Well,MrSavio.You’ve
committedaseriousoffence.’‘Whatdoesoffencemean?’‘Itmeansacrime.’‘Whatdoescommitted
mean?’‘Itmeans“done”.Itmeans
you’vedoneacrime.’‘I’magoodboy.’You’realsoanidiot,
thoughttheinterrogator.Hesatback.‘I’msureyouare.Butit’sacrimetocrosstheborderwithoutpapersandit’sanothercrimetoenterthecountryatanypointunlessthatpointisanofficialbordercrossing.’
‘Idon’thaveanypapers.’‘Iknowyoudon’thaveany
papers,that’swhyyou’rehere.’‘WherecanIgetthe
papers?’‘Notthepoint.It’sacrime
totrytocomeintothecountrywithoutpapers.’‘Ididn’tknowaboutthe
papers.’‘Ignoranceofthelawisno
excuse.’
‘Whynot?’‘Becausetheneveryone
wouldsaytheydidn’tknowaboutthelaw.Theycouldsaytheydidn’tknowmurderwasagainstthelaw.Wouldyouletsomeonegowho’dcommittedmurderifhesaidhedidn’tknowkillingpeoplewasagainstthelaw?’‘Soldierskillpeople,that’s
notagainstthelaw.’‘That’snotmurder.’
‘Yousaid“killingpeople”.’‘Imeantmurder.’‘Iunderstand.’Theinterrogatorwasnot
surehowhehadletthequestioningoftheboyslipinsuchaway.Onceagainheattemptedtogetcontrolofthesituation.‘Whydidyoutrytoenter
thecountryatanillegalplace?’
‘Ididn’tknowitwasillegal.’‘Allright.Whywereyou
tryingtogetintothecountry?’‘TheRedeemerswere
tryingtomurderus.Sorry,tokillus.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’VagueHenrilookedathim
wide-eyedwithalarmatthequestion.‘Imeanmakeusnotlive.’
‘Iknowwhatkillmeans.Whydidyousaymurderandthenchangeittokill?’‘Youtoldmesoldierscan’t
domurder.’‘Idon’tthinkIdid.’VagueHenrilookedat
him.Blank.‘Whyweretheytryingto
killyou?’‘Idon’tknow.’‘Theymusthavehada
reason.’
‘No.’‘EvenRedeemershaveto
haveareasontokillsomeone.’VagueHenriwastempted
tosaysomethingsarcasticbuthadthesensetostophimself.‘Perhapstheythoughtwe
wereAntagonists.’‘Areyou?’‘Isthatacrime?’‘No.’‘I’mnotanAntagonist.’
‘Thenwhoareyou?’‘I’mfromMemphis.’‘Atlast.’‘Sorry?’‘Nevermind.’‘Whatdidyoudoin
Memphis?’‘Iworkedinthekitchensat
thePalazzo.’‘Goodjob?’‘No.Icleaneddishes.’‘Parents?’‘Don’tknow.Dead,I
think.Maybethey’rejustgoingaboutlikeme.’‘Goingabout?’‘Goingaboutfromplaceto
placelookingforwork.StayingawayfromRedeemers.’‘Butyoudidn’t–stay
awayfromthem,Imean.’‘WillIgotoprison?’‘Notworriedaboutyour
friends?’‘They’renotmyfriends.’
Thiswastrueenough.‘Iwasjusttravellingwiththem.Didsomecooking.Itseemedsafer.’‘Doyouknowwhothey
are?’‘Justpeoplegoingabout
tryingtofindworkandstayawayfromtheRedeemers.Youwouldifyouwerethem–ifyouwereme.’Theinterrogatorwassilent
foramoment.
‘No–inanswertoyourquestion.Youwon’tgotoprison.Wehaveacampforcrossovers,peoplelikeyou,aboutthirtymilesawayinKoniz.You’llhavetoliveinatent.Butyou’llbefed.Thereareguardstokeepyousafe.Theremightbemorequestions.’‘WillIbeabletoleave?’‘No.’‘Soitisaprison?’
‘No,it’sasortofholdingplacewhilewefindoutmoreaboutyou.Therearethousandsdoingwhatyou’redoing.Wecan’thavethemjustwanderingalloverthecountry.We’dhaveRedeemerfifthcolumnistseverywhere.’VagueHenriappearedto
considerthis.‘What’safifthcolumnist?’‘Asortofspy.You
understandnow?’‘Yes,’saidVagueHenri.‘Fairenough,then.Yougo
tothecampandyou’llbesafethere.Thenwe’llsee.Thingswillprobablysettledown.Thenyoucangoonyourway.’‘Isthatwhatyouthink?
Thatitwillallsettledown?’Theinterrogatorsmiled.
Hewantedtoreassuretheboy.‘Yes.That’swhatI
think.’Andonthebalanceofprobabilitiesthiswastrulywhathedidbelieve.Whatwasthepoint,afterall,oftheRedeemersfightingawaronsomanyfronts?TherehadbeenseriousconcessionstotheannexationofNassauandRockallandplausiblereassurancefromthePopeasaresultofthem.Itwasdifficultforacautiousandpessimisticperson,whichis
whatheconsideredhimselftobe,toseewhattheRedeemerscouldgainfromatotalwar.Therewasnothinglefttoconcede,everythinghadalreadybeengivenaway.Anythingmorewouldmerelybeunconditionalsurrenderandnoteventhemostrecalcitrantandfeeblewouldtoleratethat.FromnowontheRedeemerswouldeitherbehappywiththesignificant
concessionsofferedthem,andwhichhadcostthemnothing,orriskeverythingtheyhadinauniversalwar,whichmightcostthemeverything.Awardidnot,onbalance,seemplausible.Hepushedapieceofpaperacrossthetable.‘Signthis,’hesaidsoftly.‘Whatisit?’‘Readitifyoulike.’‘Ican’tread,’saidVague
Henri.‘Itasksyouwhetherornot
youbroughtanymeatorfloweringvegetablesintothecountry.Andtogivedetails,whereapplicable,ofanymisfeasancecommittedhereorinanothercountry.Misfeasancemeansbadthings.’‘Oh,’saidVagueHenri.
‘Nobadthings.Hereoranywhere.I’magoodboy.’
Thenextdayhewasinawalkingconvoyonhiswaytothetentcitytheinterrogatorhadtoldhimabout.Hethoughtitwasunlikelythey’dactuallygethimthereastherewerearoundthreehundredrefugees,someofthemwomenandchildren,andonlyfifteenguards.Asitturnedout,thecampatKonizwasonthewaytoSpanishLeedssoitmadesensetolet
theborderguardsfeedhimandkeephimsafeastheinterrogatorhadsaidtheywould.He’dprobablyskipoutbeforetheygotthere,orafterifitseemedmoresensible.Aprisonwithtentswasn’t
goingtobeabletoholdsomeonewho’dgotoutoftheSanctuary–boastfulthoughtshehadtoreviseoverthefollowingdays.TheSwiss
guardsknewtheirjobandsomaybetheguardsatKonizwouldtoo.Still,thingscouldbeworse.HecouldbedeadlikemostofthedozenRedeemersheandKleisthadtakenoverthebordertokillRedeemerSantosHallformurderingKleist’swifeandbabyinthewildernessonthewaytoSilesia.Ofthefourkindsof
militaryfailureVague
Henri’ssmallexpeditiontokillHallwastheworst:disasterfromthewordgo.Nothingwentright:therainstartedastheyleftanddidnotstop,thehorsesbecamesickandsodidthemen.TheystumbledintothreeRedeemerpatrolswhenaminutelaterorearliertheywouldhavepassedunobserved.EvenbeforetheyarrivedatSantosHall’scampinMozathey’d
losttwomen.Whentheyarrivedtheyjustwalkedintothecamp,wellabletoblendinwithmenthey’dlivedwithmostoftheirlives;unluckilyoneofthePurgatorswasimmediatelyrecognizedbyanoblatewhowasbeingsentbacktoChartreswithhideousfootrot.Again,afractionearlierorlaterandeverythingmighthavebeenreclaimedfromthepreviousweekof
disasters.Havingonlypassed
throughthefirstwallofdefencetheywereabletofighttheirwayout,butnotwithoutlosinganotherfourPurgators.InthedarkoftheirescapehelostKleistandhadnoideawhetherhewasaliveordead.Andyetalthoughithadfailedmiserably,andwasafoolishideainthefirstplace,theirattempttokill
SantosHallhadbeenwellplannedbytwopeoplewhoknewwhattheyweredoing.Noonecouldhaveforeseentheirdreadfulbadlucknoritsfrequency.Theyhadthrownacointwelvetimesandtwelvetimesithadcomeuptails.VagueHenrihadplentyoftimetoconsiderwhathe’ddonewronginplanningandexecutingtheattackandwasverywillingtolearnfromhis
mistakes.Butasfarashecouldseehehadn’treallymadeany,otherthandoingitinthefirstplace.Inafewdayshisrunof
misfortunedesertedhimandastormhelpedhimslipawayjustbeforethecolumnmadeittoKoniz.InaweekhewasbackinSpanishLeedshavinglearntanimportantlesson–althoughhewasn’tquitesurewhatitwas.Neverdo
anything,perhaps.Withintwodayshewas
delightedandrelievedbythearrivalofKleist,onlyforbothofthemtolearnfromCadburythatCalewasbackandbeinglookedafterinsomeluxurybyRiba,nowwifeoftheHanseaticAmbassadortotheCourtoftheKing.VagueHenriwasdelightedbythereturnofCalebutputoutbythenews
ofRiba,havingnursedsomethingofacrushonhersincehehadshamefullyspiedonherwashingnakedinapoolintheScablandsaftertheirescapefromtheSanctuary.ButbothheandKleisthadmorepressingproblems.CadburyhadnotturneduptotellthemthelocalgossipbuttosummonthembeforeKittytheHare,whoknewverywellwhat
they’dbeenuptoandwasaggrievedattheirstupidity.‘Ifyouhaveprayers,
preparetosaythemnow,’saidCadbury,usheringthemtothedoor.
Cadbury’slight-heartedattemptatalarmingthetwoboysseemedlessamusingwhenhedeliveredthemtoKitty’shousebythecanal.Cadburysawtwomen
enteringKitty’srooms.Hedidn’trecognizethem,buthehadspenttoomuchtimeamongthewickednottorecognizethisqualitywhenhesawitinsomeone.Thewaytheyheldthemselves,thewaytheymovedandgazedatothersbetrayedtheirgrudgeagainstlife.Therewereotherexplanations,ofcourse:fewpeopleofanelevatedmoralstaturecametodobusiness
withKittytheHare.Still,hisnoseforbadbusinesswastwitching.HesentoneofKitty’sservantstofetchDeidre.Heturnedtothetwoboysandgesturedthemovertothetablebythewall.‘Gentlemen,your
material.’Hegrimacedtosignalthat
anyclaimnottoknowwhathewastalkingaboutwouldbeaninsulttoallthreeof
them.Theystartedtoemptytheirvarioushiddenpocketsontothetable:aknife,ashiv,anawl,ahammer,anotherknife,arazor,asmallpick,awimble,agougeandfinallyapairofpliers.Therewasapause.‘Andtherest,’said
Cadbury.Yetanotherknife,abolt,a
punch(large),anaxe(small),amace(surprisinglynot
small)andfinallyaneedleofthekindusetorepairthicksails.‘What’sthematter–
nobodylikeyou?’‘No,’saidKleist.‘Butwedon’tcare,’added
VagueHenri.Cadburyknewthatthere
mustbemore,eventhoughhewassurprisedhowmuchtherealreadywas.Buthehadcoveredhimselfandhecould
notbringhimselftosendthetwoboysnakedintothechamber.ItwasnotoftenthatCadburyfeltdread,exceptonhisownbehalf,buthewasfeelingitnow.Hisbadconsciencecalledouttohim,angryandmocking.You’venorighttobehavingaconsciencenow,youhypocrite,afteralltheevilyou’vehadafingerin.Kitty’sdooropenedandhis
stewardemerged.‘Theymustcomeinnow,’
hesaid.Cadburynoddedtothetwoboyswhowerealarmednow,VagueHenrimorethanKleist.Theyweregesturedthroughbythesteward,whoclosedthedoorafterthem.Usually,thoughtCadbury,hewouldhaveenteredwiththembutnotthistime.ThestewardlookedatCadbury,obviouslyuneasy.
Whatdidthatmean?‘Mymastersaysyoucanleavenow.’Thestewardturnedand
walkedaway,hisdisquietcontainedwithinthesetofhisshouldersandeventhewayhewalked.ToworkforKittymeantyouhadaconsiderablecapacityforlookingtheotherwaywhenitcametoevil-doing;butalmosteveryonehastheirstandards,theline
beyondwhichtheywillnotgo.Eveninprisonthemurdererlooksdownonthecommonthief,thethieflooksdownontherapistandallofthemaredisgustedbythenonce.Itwasallverywellthestewardhintingthatsomethingnastywasabouttotakeplace.Butwhatcouldhedoaboutit?Cadburyhadbeentoldtoleaveandsothat’swhathedid.
Walkingoutintodaylightfeltlikeemergingintothesunafterayearinthedark.Butthedreadatwhatwasgoingtohappencamewithhimtoo,andcouldbeseensoplainlythatonmeetingDeidrePlunketthurryingtowardshim,evenshecouldseethathewasinastateofintenseanxiety.‘What’sthematter?’she
asked.
‘I’mnotwell.Weneedtogohome.’‘I’vejustcomefrom
home.’‘Thenwe’llgoback,’he
shouted,andpulledhertotheothersideofthestreetandawayfromKittytheHare’shouse.
OncethedoorclosedbehindthemitwouldhavemadenodifferenceifKleistand
VagueHenrihadbeencarryingalloftheweaponsCadburyhadremovedandtwiceasmanylikethembesides.IttookafewsecondstobecomeaccustomedtothegloomafterthedoorwasshutbutanywaytherewasnothingtobedoneaboutthepairofsmalloverstrungspointedatthembyoneofthemenCadburyhadbeensodisturbedby.Theotherman
washoldingtwobroom-handle-sizedstickswithloopsontheendofthekindusedtocatchwilddogs.‘Turnaround.’Theydidastheyweretold
andwithgreatdeftnesstheloopsweredroppedovertheirnecksandshouldersandpulledtightaroundtheirmidriffs,bindingtheirarms.ItwasnotthefirsttimethatKittyhadadmiredthefinesse
ofsuchlargemen.Neitheroftheboyssaidanythingortriedtoescape,somethingthatalsoimpressedKitty.‘We’regoingtosityou
downonthesetwostools,’saidoneofthemen.Theypushedlightlyonthewoodenshaftsholdingtheloopsandeasedtheboysforwardandontothestools.Thentheysetthewoodenshaftsintotwosmallslotsinthefloor.There
wasaloudCLICK!andtheendsoftheshaftsweresecured.‘Tugaway,ifyoulike,’
mockedoneofthemen.‘MrMach,’cooedKittythe
Hare.‘You’llnotbehaverudely.Thesetwoboysaregoingtodiehere.Showthemtherespectduetothatfactorbequiet.’VagueHenriandKleist
hadbeenusedtothreatsall
theirlivesandtheyhadseenthembeingcarriedoutwithgreat,evenifpious,cruelty.Theyknewthiswasn’tathreat.Thisthingwasgoingtohappen.Behindthemthetwomengotonwiththeirpreparations,Machwithhisnosesomewhatoutofjointatbeingcorrected.Ittookthemlittleeffort.Fromtheirinsidepocketsbothtookoutalengthofstrongwire,wrappedat
eitherendaroundwoodenhandlesaboutfourincheslong.‘Why?’criedoutVague
Henri.Thetwomen,moreoutofasenseofritualthanneed,testedtherobustnessofthewoodandthewirebypullingthemaparttwice.Satisfied,theymovedtoloopthetwinearoundtheboys’necks.‘Wait,’Kittymurmured.
‘Sinceyou’veasked,youmustwanttomakethislastlongerthanitneeds.I’lltellyou.YourstupidactionsagainsttheRedeemershaveupsetthebalanceofmypeace.Ihavegonetotroubleandexpensetoensurethatnothinghappens–thatthiswarisasdrawnoutanddelayedasitsuitsmeandmybusinessforittobedrawnoutanddelayed.You’vetried
tobeginawarthatIdonotwantbegun.OnceawarstartsallsortsofunpleasantthingshappenwhichmeansIdon’tgetpaid.Butawarthatmightormightnothappenisutterbliss–50,000dollarsaweekinsupplies.That’swhythegreatdooropensforyou.Icannotsayitwillbepainlessbutitwillbequickifyougiveintoit.’Thetwomenstepped
forwardandcircledthewirearoundtheirnecks.‘ForGod’ssake,’whisperedKleist.‘Iknowwhenthey’llcome
–theRedeemers!’shoutedVagueHenri.‘Iknowtotheday.’‘Waitalittle,’saidKitty.‘Allright,Iadmit,’Vague
Henriwasstillabletoliewellunderdreadfulcircumstances,allhisyearsofpracticeat
deceivingtheRedeemerscomingtohisaid,‘nottotheday,buttotheweek.’Apause.Kittyseemed
convincedbytheadmission;afterall,whowouldn’texaggerateundersuchconditions?‘Goon.’‘Beforewetriedtogetinto
thecampIwatchedtheplacefornearlytwentyhours.Inthattime,fiftycartsarrived.
Eachcartcarrieshalfaton,giveortake.Thirtyofthecartswerejustfood.Acommissariattenttakesfivetons.Therewereovertwohundredofthem.That’sathousandtons.Thecamponlyhasaroundtwothousandmenalltold.That’shalfatonoffoodforeveryman.’‘Sothecampisa
distributionpoint.’‘No.Nothingbeyonda
coupleofcartswentoutandnoneofthemtookfood.Commissariatcartsaredifferent.’‘Storageforthewinter,
then?’‘Youdon’tbuildupstores
beforethesummer.Mostofitwouldrotinatent.Youdon’tneedamassofstorestokeepacampinthesummer.Atthistimeofyearyoucanliveoffthecountryside–buyingand
commandeering.’‘Andso?’‘Theymustbefuellingan
attack.Iftheywerestayingwheretheywere,theywouldn’tneedatwentiethofsuchstores.’‘Twothousandmenaren’t
goingtoadvanceonSwitzerland.’‘Itwouldonlytaketwo
weekstobringinanotherfortythousand–butthenthey
havetoattack.Nochoice.Forty-oddthousandmeneatatarateofaroundthirtytofiftytonsaday.Theycan’tstayinoneplacetogetherinsuchnumbers.Santoscan’tbringthemupinlessthantentofourteendays.Andhecan’tkeepthemtherejusteatingupthestores.He’llhavetomoveinaweek,twoatthemost.’‘I’veheard,youknow,a
greatmanyplausiblelies.’‘They’renotlies.’‘Howdoyouknowso
muchaboutbaconandflour?’‘I’mnotlikeCaleor
Kleist.Theyweretrainedforthemilitant;I’mcommissariat.Nobodyfightswithoutsupplies–woodandwaterandmeatandflour.’Kittyconsidered,ahideous
ponderingfortheboys.‘I’llsendforsomeonewho
hascompetenceinallthis.Ifhefindsoutthisisallbuncombe–whichIsuspect…Isuspectitis–you’llwishyou’dkeptyourmouthshutbecausebynowyou’dbedeadandyoursufferingwouldbeover.’Tenminuteslater,bothof
themshakingwithterror,VagueHenriandKleistwerelockedinasurprisinglycomfortableroominthe
PARTTHREEThesuperpowersoftenbehaveliketwoheavilyarmedblindmenfeelingtheirwayaroundaroom,eachbelievinghimselfinmortalperilfromtheother,whomheassumestohaveperfectvision.Eachsideshouldknowthatfrequentlyuncertainty,compromise,andincoherencearetheessenceofpolicymaking.Yeteachtendstoascribetothe
otheraconsistency,foresight,andcoherencethatitsownexperiencebelies.Ofcourse,overtime,eventwoarmedblindmencandoenormousdamagetoeachother,nottospeakoftheroom.HenryKissinger,TheWhiteHouse
Years(1979)
15
‘So,’saidIdrisPukke,‘you’reback.’‘Iam.’‘Andwhatdidyoulearn
whileyouwereaway?’‘ThatImustavoidpainand
getasmuchhappinessasI
can.’IdrisPukkegaspedwith
derision.‘Ridiculous.’‘Soyousay.’‘Idoindeed.Considera
healthyyoungperson,everymuscleandsinewstrongandsupple.Exceptforonething–hehasatoothache.Doesherejoiceinhisstrengthandtakepleasureintheoverwhelmingmultiformwonderfulnessofhisyoung
body,evenifonlyatinyfractionofitishurting?No,hedoesnot.Hethinksonlyofthedreadfulpaininhistooth.’‘Allheneedstodoisget
histoothpulledandthenhe’llthinkhe’sinheaven.’‘Youhavefallen,rathertoo
easilyifImaysayso,intomytrap.Exactly.Hefeelsabsolutelytheintensepleasureoftheabsenceof
sufferingnotthepleasurethatalltheotherbitsandpiecesofhisbodygivehim.’‘I’msicktothebackteeth
ofbeingmiserable.I’vehadmorethanmyportion.Lookatme.Youcan’tsayotherwise.’‘Yes,Ican.Inthisparadise
thatyou’vedecidedtobelieveinasyourultimategoaleverythingcomestoyouwithoutmuchtroubleandthe
turkeysflyaroundready-roasted–butwhatwouldbecomeofpeopleevenmuchlesstroublesomethanyouinsuchahappyplace?Eventhemostpleasant-naturedpersonwoulddieofboredomorhangthemselvesorgetintoafightandkillorbekilledbysomeonewhoisevenmoredriventomadnessbythelackofstruggle.Strugglehasmadeuswhatweareandhas
suitedustothenatureofthingssothatnootherexistenceispossible.Youmightaswelltakeafishoutoftheseaandencourageittofly.’‘Asusualyoutrytomake
outI’msayingsomethingstupidsoyoucanwintheargument.Idon’texpectarosegarden.Godknows,justbetterthanthis–abitlesspainandabitmorebeerand
skittles.’‘Iunderstandyou’vehad
somehardraininyourlife.AllIcansayisthatyou’remistakeninthinkingthatmorepleasureistheanswer.Thetruthis,nomatterwhatpeoplethink,pleasurehaslittleholdoverus.Andifyoudisagree,considerthepleasureandpainoftwoanimals,onebeingeatenbytheother.Theonedoingthe
eatingfeelspleasurebutthatpleasureissoonforgottenashunger,asitalwaysdoes,returns.Considerincontrastthefeelingsofsufferingoftheanimalbeingeaten–theyareexperiencingsomethingofquiteanotherorder.Painisnottheoppositeofpleasure–itissomethingaltogetherdifferent.’‘Haveyoubeensavingthat
upformyreturn?’
‘IfyoumeantoaskmewhetherIjusthappenedtohavesuchthoughtsasyoujusthappenedtosaysomethingmorethanusuallystupid,ofcoursenot.IhavethoughtverycarefullyabouteverythingIhavetosay.Onlyinferiormindsspeakorwriteinordertodiscoverwhattheythink.’Theirpleasantargument
wasinterruptedbythenoisy
arrivalofCadbury,quarrellingwiththeguardoutsideanddemandingtoseeCale.Onceinsidehewastothepoint.‘Doyouthinkthey’restill
alive?’‘Possibly.Probablynot.’‘Why’shedoingthis?’said
IdrisPukke.‘Kittydoesn’ttaketo
peopleactingagainsthisinterests,especiallyifhe’s
beenpayingthem.Hehasalottoloseifthiswarstartsnow.“Don’ttouchme”ishismottoandhe’lldowhat’sneededtomakeitstick.’‘It’snottwoweekssince
hewenttosomuchtroubletosavemylife–nowthis.’‘Yourvaluehasfallen,’
repliedCadbury.‘HewasnotimpressedbytheaccountgivenofyourfightwiththelateTrevors.’
‘Youraccount,youmean,’saidIdrisPukke.‘KittytheHarepaysmy
wages.Idon’toweThomasCaleanything.’‘Sowhyareyouhere?’
askedCale.‘AquestionI’veyetto
answertomyownsatisfaction.Itcan’tberedemption.WhocouldmakeamendsintheeyesofGodbysavingyou?’
ButCalewasn’tlistening.‘IfIneedsomethingto
raisemyprice,’hesaidatlast,‘whatdoesKittywant?’‘Notmoney.He’sgot
money.Power–givehimthepowertoprotectwhathealreadyhas.’‘Meaning?’said
IdrisPukke.‘Whatdoyouknowthathe
doesn’t?Sorry–timeIwasn’there.Kitty’sgoingto
wantmyheadonastickwhenhefindsoutwhatI’vedone.’Hewasatthedoorand
almostgone.‘HowdoIgetin?’asked
Cale.Cadburylookedathim.‘Youdon’t.Yousomuch
asknockonhisfrontdoortooloudlyandthey’lltabyouintwoshakesofalamb’stail.’‘Howmanyguards?’
‘Fifteen,giveortake.Butallthedoorsareironplate–thewoodoneithersideisjustveneer.Everydoorwouldtakeadozenmenanhourtogetthrough.Butyouwon’thaveanhour.He’stakenagainstthoseboysandhewon’tgivethemupwithoutabung–andabloodybigonetoo.’‘Thanks,’saidCale.‘Iowe
you.’
‘Youalreadyowemeandlookwherethat’sgotme.’WhenCadburyhadgone,
CalesatdownandlookedatIdrisPukkeforsometime.‘Itwouldn’tmatter,’said
IdrisPukkeatlast,‘evenifIdidknowsomethingbigenough,Icouldn’ttellyouifmylifedependedonit.’‘Ithoughtyoucaredfor
Henri.’‘IcareforKleistaswell,
evenifyoudon’t.Iknowwhataffectionis.Thereare,Iadmitit,thingsIknow.ButIcan’tputtheminthehandsofsomeonelikeKitty,notiftheyweremyownsons.’‘That’seasyenoughto
say.’‘Isupposeitis.Ican’thelp
you.I’msorry.’
WithinfifteenminutesCalewasinhisnewlodgingsin
theEmbassyoftheHanseandputtingthecrushonRiba’shusband.‘Idon’thavetimetobe
ladylikeaboutthis:Isavedyourwifeattheprettycertaincostofmyownlife.Nowit’stimetosettleup.’‘Haveyoudiscussedthis
withRiba?’‘No,butIwill,ifyoulike.’‘I’mnotjustRiba’s
husband.Thelivesofmany
thousands–more–dependonme.’‘Idon’tcare.’‘I’llcomewithyouand
we’lltrytogetyourfriendsouttogether.Mylifeisnottheissuehere.’Calealmostsaidsomething
deeplyoffensive.‘Itwouldn’tmatterifIhadtwohundredlikeyou.Iknowforce.Forceisn’tgoingtodoit.Hewantswhatyouknow.’
‘Ican’t.’ItwasasagonizedarefusalasCalehadeverheard.Thiswasgood.‘Youdon’thaveto.’‘I’msorry?’‘Youdon’thavetotellhim
whatyoureallyknow,youjusthavetotellhimwhatyoumightknow.’‘I’mbeingobtuse,I
realize.Couldyouplodalittlemore?’
Caleclosedhiseyes,hisirritationplain.‘Youmusthavethought
aboutallthedifferentstuffyoucoulddointhefaceofthethreatfromtheRedeemers,right?’‘Exploredalternative
responses?’‘Yes.That.Idon’twantto
knowwhatyou’vedecided.Don’ttellme.Idon’tcare.Ijustwantoneofthechoices
youdidn’tmake,whateveritis,andallthedetailwrittendown.’Alongpause.‘Ican’twriteanything
down.IfitgotouttheHansecouldberuined.’ItwasnoteasyforCaleto
avoidpickingupthehandsomeornamentonthetablenexttohimandthrowingitatthewall.Hisheadhurtandhethoughthe
wasprobablygoingtodieinthenextfewhours.‘Listentome,’hesaid,
‘KittytheHarecouldeatyouupandspityououtandadozenmorelikeyou.He’snotgoingtoacceptmywordforanything.HeknowsI’malyinglittleshit,allright?’‘Puttingalieinwritingis
asbadastellingthetruth.Itwillgetout–andifit’swrittendownpeoplewill
believeit.Ican’t.’NowCale’sheadwas
throbbingasifitwereexpandingandcontractingbyacoupleofincheswitheachbreath.‘WhatifIpromiseI’llsee
it’sdestroyed?’‘Howcanyoubecertain?’‘I’mgivingyoutheword
ofsomeonewhopreventedyourwifefrombeingpaunchedwhileshewasstill
alive–youungratefulfuck.’HelookedatWittenberganddecidedhehadnothingtolose.‘AndI’dhavetotellRibathatyourefusedtohelpthethreepeoplewhosavedherlife–evenwhenoneofthempromisedtokeepyououtofit.’‘Aparticularlyuglythreat,
ifImaysayso–butIsupposeyou’redesperate.’‘I’manuglysortof
person.’‘Atanyrateyouareavery
violentone.’‘Luckilyforyourwife.’‘Butyou’reverysick.Your
skillinmovingarmiesisn’tofmuchuseifyou’veleftthosearmiesbehind.Uglyorviolent,you’renowordinary.Ican’thelpyouinthis,nomatterwhatmypersonalobligationsare.Leavemyhousebymiddaytomorrow,
ifyouwouldn’tmind.’‘ActuallyIdomind.’‘Leaveitanyway.’Calewenttohisroom,
tookoutoneofthesmallpacketsofPhedraandMorphine,tappedthetinyamountofwhitepowderontothebackofhishand,putonefingertohisleftnostril,bentdownandtookahugesnort.Hecalledoutinpain;itwasasifapacketofpinsand
needleshadexplodedinhishead.Thesensationtookaminutetofadeandoncehehadwipedthetearsfromhiseyeshebegantofeelbetter.Thenverymuchbetter.Thenbetterthanhehadeverfelt:sharp,clearandstrong.OnhiswayouthepassedRiba.‘You’vebeentalkingtoArthur,’shesaid.‘Yes.’‘And?’
‘He’snotasdumbashelooks.’AshewalkedtoKitty’s
houseitwasthroughacityandaworldfilledwithconfusion.Itwaseithertheeveofdestructionorthecrisishadpassed.Somepeoplewereleaving,somepeoplehaddecidedtostay.Priceshadbeenrisingonfearsofawar,butnowtheywerefallingonrumoursofpeace.
Menofexperienceweresellingoffgold,menofexperiencewerebuyingitback.Thingsmightgothiswayorthingsmightgothat.Thefirstcasualty,thedayafterthedeclarationofwar,isthememoryoftheconfusionthatprecededit.Nothingfadesfromthepowersofrecallliketherecollectionofuncertainty.Onhiswayfromthe
EmbassyoftheHanse,Calestoppedbrieflyatadepotusedbytheoutdraggers–tinkerswhohiredouttheirhandcartsfordeliveriesofjustaboutanything,thoughmostlythemeatandvegetablesfromthemarketacrossthesquare.Hegaveoneofthem,angry-lookingbutbeefy,fivedollarsandthepromiseofanotherfiveifhe’dheadforthestreetwhere
Kittylivedandwatchfortwoorthreepeoplecomingoutwhomightneedtobecarriedaway.He’dneedtobequick,nohangingabout.‘Soundsliketherecouldbe
trouble,’saidtheman.‘Tendollarsandthenanotherten.’‘What’syourname?’Thetinkerwascareful
aboutthebusinessofgivingnames,buttherewasseriousmoneyinvolved.‘Michael
Nevin.’‘Dothejobandthere’llbe
more.’‘Moremoneyormore
jobs?’‘Both.’
KnockingsoftlyonKitty’sdoor,Calewasadmitted,searched,relievedofhiscollectionofdevicesandthentakenintoseeKitty.Hewasseatedbehindalargedesk,
hisfaceindistinctinthesemi-darkness.SittingagainsttheshuttersatthebackoftheroomwerethetwomenwhohadcomesoclosetokillingKleistandVagueHenriacoupleofhoursearlier.‘You’vedisimprovedsince
welastmet,MrCale.Sitdown.’Cale’sfearathavingtwo
suchobviousevil-doersbehindhimwasnotinany
wayeasedbytheoddnessofthefitofthechair.Itwasslightlytoolow,thearmsslightlytoohigh,theseatawkwardlysloped.Anditwasfastenedtothefloor.‘Ihavetotalktoyou
alone,’saidCale.‘No,youdon’t.’‘Aretheystillalive?’‘Iwouldn’tworryabout
them,sicklittleboy.’‘Ihavetoknowifthey’re
deadoralive.’‘Theyareinawaiting
room.Thequestioniswhetherornotyouaregoingtowaitwiththem.’‘Me?HowhaveI
offended?’‘You,sir,havenot
deliveredonyourundertakingsforwhichyouhavebeenpaidandcaredfor.’‘I’vebeenabadservant,I
admit.I’vecometoputthatright.’‘Well?’‘I’vetwothingstotellyou.
ThefirstistorepaywhatIoweyou.Thesecondisaswapformyfriends.’‘Andwhyshouldn’tImake
yougivemethissecondthingwithoutthecostoflookingweak?’‘BecauseIhavetoproveit
aswellastellyou.Andthe
proofisn’there.’‘We’llsee.Goon.’‘Theyleave.’‘We’llseeafteryoupay
mewhatyouowe.’Caletriedtogivethe
impressionthathewasconsideringthis.‘Allright.You’veamapof
thefourquarters?’‘Yes.’‘Ineedtoshowyou.’Ittookafewminutesfor
thetwomentounrollthemapandhangitfromhookshighupononeofthewalls.ItwasobvioustoCalethatKittywouldhavecommissionedasurveyofsomekindbuthewassurprisedatitssizeanddetail,betterthananythingeventheRedeemershadmadeandtheywereskilledcartographers.‘You’reimpressed,’said
Kitty.
‘Yes.’Oneofthemenhanded
himapointerwithlittlemoresubstancetoitthanastalkofwheat–nochanceofusingitasaweapon.CalelookedatKitty,hoodedandintheshadows,stillasastump.Iftherehadbeenanyonetotellhimfairystoriesasaboy,Kittywouldhavebeenasighttobringbackthetruefearofthechild’snightmare.Cale
hadnochoice,sohegotonwithit.‘ThisiswhatIthink,based
onwhatIknow,’Calesaid.‘Someofit’sguesswork.Butit’sthereorthereabouts.’Therewasahigh-pitched
wheezingsoundfromKitty,laughterperhaps,andthesmellofsomethinghotanddampmomentarilycarriedinthestillair.‘Yourscruplesarenoted.’
‘TheSwissmountainsmakeanattackalmostimpossiblefromanywhereexceptthenorth.AsfarastheSwissareconcerned,theothercountriesintheSwissAllianceexisttoactasaseriesofthreebuffersagainstanyattackfromthere.FarthestnorthisGaul,protectedbytheMaginotLineandtheArnhemlanddesert.TheAxisthinkthe
strengthofthedefencesintheMaginotLinewillprotectthemandthatArnhemlandistoowideandwaterlessforanarmyofanyrealsizetocross.They’rewrong.Boscohasbeendelayingsohecandiganetworkofwellsandwaterstoresacrossthedesert.’‘Andyouknowthis
because…?’‘BecauseIthoughtofit.
TheGaulsthinkthatevenif
anarmydoescomethroughthedesertandhittheirweakerdefences,anarmythat’sspentsixdaysinArnhemlandisn’tgoingtobeinmuchofashapetofight–evenweakdefencesshouldbemorethanenoughtostopthemuntiltheycanbringinreinforcements.’‘Andthey’rewrong
because…?’‘TheRedeemerswon’ttake
sixdays,they’lltakeonedayandtwonights.’‘Aretheygoingtorunall
theway?’‘They’llcomeon
horseback.’‘Iseemtorememberyou
sayinginoneofyourlessthaninformativereportsthattheRedeemershadnocavalrytospeakofandwouldtakeyearstodevelopone.’‘They’renotcavalry–just
mountedinfantry.Ittakessixweekstolearntorideahorse,ifthat’sallyou’regoingtodo.’‘AndiftheGaulcavalry
catchesthem?’‘Thenthey’llgetoffand
dealwiththemthewaytheydealtwiththeMaterazziatSilburyHill.Andthey’llbeinagreatdealbettershapethantheRedeemerswerethere.Halfofthemwerefighting
withpapershoveduptheirsqueakerstostopthemfromcrappingontheirfeet.’‘Sparemethedetails.’‘Morebattlesarelost
becauseofthesquitsthanbecauseofbadgenerals.’‘Whatthen?’‘Speed–atfirst.They’ll
takeGaulinsixweeks.’‘Optimistic,wouldn’tyou
say?’‘No,Iwouldn’t.IfIsayit
canbedone,thenitcanbedone.ThedefenceagainsttheRedeemersisbasedonhowquicklytheymovedinthepast–howquicklyallarmiesmovedinthepast.Everyonefightsthewarthey’reusedto.’‘SotheRedeemerswillroll
overGaul,thenPalestine,thenAlbionandYugoslaviaandalltherestuntilthey’reatthegatesofZurich.’
‘Itwon’tbethateasy.’‘Yousurpriseme.’‘Always.’Againthehigh-pitched,
wheezinglaugh.‘Whataconceitedyoungmanyouare.’‘I’mnotconceited.I’mjust
honestaboutbeingsomuchbetterthanotherpeople.’Kittywassilentfora
moment.Anotherwaftofthehotdampsmell.
‘Wellthen,’saidKitty.‘Allowancemustbemadeforyourboastfulness,beingapersonsomuchaboveothers.Goon.’Caleturnedbacktothe
mapandpointedtotheriverthatcutGaulinhalfonitswaytothesea.‘AlltheRedeemersneedto
doismakeitquicklytotheMississippi.Thenthey’llhaveadefensivelinetheycan
holdorretreattoifthingsgowrong,andforaslongastheylike.’‘AndfromtheMississippi
onwards…?’‘Wartheusualway,
probably–slowandnasty.ButtheRedeemersaregoodatthat.’‘Andwherearethe
Laconicsinallofthis?’‘Paidtostayoutofitif
BoscodoeswhatIsaid.’
‘Andwhatifhedoesn’tdowhatyousaid?OrtheLaconicsthinkoncetheRedeemershavetakentheSwissthey’llcomeforthemnext?’‘Oncethey’vetakenthe
Swissthat’sexactlywhatBoscowilldo.’‘Sowhyshouldtheygo
alongjustbecauseit’sconvenientforyourplanthattheydoso?’
‘Becausethat’swhattheywanttobelieve.Thiswaytheygetmoneyandaguarantee.’‘Worthless.’‘Buttheydon’tknowthat.
Itdoesn’tmakesensetoattackthemafterall.There’snogreatstrategicuseforLaconiaandthere’sbuggerallthere.Thecostoftakingitdoesn’tbearthinkingabout–evenfortheRedeemers.’
‘ButBoscowilltry.’‘Yes.’‘Why?’‘Idon’tknow.Hejust
askedmetomakeitpossible.SomethingtodowithGod,Iimagine.’‘Soyoudon’tknow
everything.’‘IknoweverythingIknow
about.’Caleneededtobehonest
withKittyforthereasonthat
hislifeandVagueHenri’sandKleist’sdependedonhimbeingconvincing.Nothingconvinceslikethetruth.ButBosco’splantocreateafinalsolutiontotheproblemofevilwouldhaveseemedimpossibleeventosomeoneasvileasKittytheHare.Suchathingwasoutsidethekingdomofevenhisappallingimaginationbecauseithadnopurpose–
therewasnomoneyorpowertobehadfromsuchavision.‘Whataboutthepurposeof
theRedeemercampatMozayourfriendssofoolishlychosetoattack?’Thiswastricky.Theymust
havetoldKittysomethingusefulorthey’dbedead.Butthenmaybehehadn’tintendedtokillbutjusttoscarethem.IfCaletoldKittysomethingthatconflicted
withwhatthey’dtoldhimhe’dknowthey’dbeenlying.Andthentherewereotherpossibilitiestotheleft,andtheright,andtotheleftagain,alwaysintelligentguessestobemadeandgotcompletelywrong.GamblingthatVagueHenriwouldhavedecidedtotellsomethingclosetothetruth,Calecommittedhimself.‘TheRedeemerswillattack
fromthenorththroughArnhemlandbutthey’llwanttosqueezefromoppositeendsandtheonlywaytoattacktheSwissfromthesouthisupthroughtheMittelland,thenthroughtheSchallenbergPasstoSpanishLeeds.’‘Howmany?’‘Fortythousand,giveor
take.I’mnotsayinghewon’tjuststaywhereheisandseal
theSwissinandwaitfortheattackfromthenorthtoworkitswaydown.ButifhecandrawtheSwissintoanattackintheMittellanditmightbeworthit.Andiftheydon’tcomeouttofighthecansealofftheSchallenbergthenwaitthemoutthere.’‘Why?’‘Fivethousandmenin
frontoftheSchallenbergcouldholdtheSwissinfor
ever.That’snearlythirty-fivethousandlessthanstayingwhereheis.’‘Whynotgothroughand
takethecity?’‘Becausefivethousand
mencanholditfromtheotherendjustaswell.Butthenit’sjustaquestionofhowlongittakestheRedeemerstomakeitdownfromthenorth.See–everythingdependsonthem
gettingacrossArnhemlandinadayandtwonights.Afterthatit’sjustamatteroftime.’‘Andhaveyoutoldanyone
elseaboutthis?’‘WhoItellandwhatItell
themismybusiness.’‘You’reveryinsolentfor
someonewho’scomelookingforcharity.’‘No,Ihaven’ttold
anyone.’‘Why?’
‘WhatIknowisallI’vegot.Besides,myreputationisn’twhatitusedtobe.Who’sgoingtobelieveasicklyboywhousedtobegoodatthrowinghisweightaround?’‘Whataboutyour
Materazzipatrons?’‘Everybodyandhismother
wantthemtodropdead,ifatallpossible.’‘AndyetConnMaterazzi
ismuchslobberedoverbytheKing.’‘Connwon’tstomachme
atanyprice.’‘SoI’veheard.Isittrue?’‘Sorry,Idon’tunderstand.’‘Thatyou’rethefatherof
thelittleboy?’‘Shesoldmetothe
Redeemers.’‘Notreallyananswer.But
itdoesn’tmatter.’‘Whataboutmyfriends?’
‘You’llhavetodobetter.’‘Ican.’‘Thendo.’‘Notwiththemhere.’‘Yourreputationmayhave
declinedbutIknowyoutobeapersonofviolenttalentswhoisnotalwayswiseinyouruseofthem.’‘I’mnotthepersonIused
tobe.’‘Soyousay.’‘Cadburytoldyouwhat
happenedatthePriory–Icouldn’tliftevenafingertosavemyself.Lookatme.’ForsometimeCalesatas
Kittyconsideredhiswhiteskinandtheblackcirclesandthestoopofhisshouldersandtheweightloss.‘Icouldgetthese
gentlementochastiseitoutofyou.’‘You’regoingtoneed
morethanwhatItellyou.
You’regoingtoneedproof.AndIhaven’tbroughtthatwithme.Letthemgo.’‘Idon’tthinkso.’‘You’llstillhaveme.
Nobodyknowswhothetwoboysare.Killingthemwon’tsendmuchofamessage.Butmydeathwouldsendasignal.Notright?’‘You’reofferingto
sacrificeyourselfforyourfriends?I’dthoughtbetterof
you.’‘Iintendtowalkoutof
here.I’mjustpointingoutthatyoucanaffordtoletthemgoifyou’vegotme.’Kittyconsideredbutnot
forlong.‘Goandgetthem–bothof
you.’Theydidastheyweretold,
closingtheheavydoorquietlybehindthem.‘YouknowwhereI’m
livingnow.’Itwasastatement.Inreply,
alongcooinghoot–Kittywaslaughing.‘WhywouldIcarewhere
youlayyourhat?’Calestayedsilent.‘Yes,Iknowwhereyou
live.’‘I’vefoundoutwhatthe
Hansearegoingtodo.Interested?’‘Oh,yes,’saidKitty,
casual.‘You’veproof?’‘Yes.’‘Showitme.’The
unpleasantlaughagain.Therewasaknockatthedoor.‘Comein.’Itopened.Thetwomen
whohadleft,andseveralothers,enteredholdingVagueHenriandKleist,theirhandstied.Buttherestraintwasmoreforformthanotherwise.Theywereinaterriblestate,
Kleistinparticularunrecognizable,hisfacebloody,botheyesbaggedwithpocketsofblood,thoughonehadsplitlikeasmallgapingmouthandwaspouringadeltaofreddownhisrightcheek.VagueHenrilookedasifsomeonehadwipedhisfacewithsometoxicplant–bloatedandinflamed.Histongueslippedoutofhismouthasifhewere
anoldmangoneinthehead.Theirlefthandshadbeencrushedandbothoftheboysshookuncontrollably.Caledidnotreactatall.
‘Putthemoutside.Someonewillcollectthemandwhenthey’resafethey’llbringproofofwhatI’msayingtoyou.’‘Playthefraudwithme
andyou’llfindthatdeathhastenthousanddoorsandI’m
theretoshowyouthrougheveryone.’‘Canwegeton?Ihavea
dinnertogoto.’Aslightnodofthehead
andthetwoboyswerepushed,stumbling,tothedoor.‘Makethemtellmewhat
theyseeinthestreet.’Twominuteslaterandone
ofKitty’sguardsreturned.‘Someoutdraggerwitha
handcarthascometocollectthem.’‘Whilewewaitforthe
letterI’lltellyouwhat’stocome.Oncetheyshutthedoor.’Amoment,thenCalecontinued.‘TheHanseaticLeaguearegoingtodeclaretheirsupportfortheAxisandpromisetosendshipsandtroopsandmoney.Themoneywillcomebutnottheshipsorthetroops.They’ll
makeashowofassemblingshipsinDanzigandLubeckbuteveniftheyputtoseathey’llbedrivenbackbystormsorplagueorwoodwormoranattackofbarnaclesforallIknow.Buttheywon’tcome–atleastnotuntilthey’rereasonablysurewho’sgoingtowin.’‘AndWittenbergtoldyou
thisoverteaandcucumbersandwiches?I’dheardthathe
wasamanofintelligenceanddiscretion.Whywouldhesaythesethingstosomeonelikeyou?’‘Iusedtolikecucumber
sandwiches–whenIcouldgetthem.’‘Answerme.’‘IsavedWittenberg’swife
fromsomeRedeemernastybusiness.Iownhishappiness,ifyoulike.Buthedidn’ttellmedirectlyandIwouldn’t
havebelievedhimifhehad.’‘Soshetoldyou?That’s
whatyou’resaying?’‘No.ItriedandIeven
twistedherarm,sotospeak.Butshe’saclevergirl,Riba,andwasn’thavinganyofit.Istolehiskeyandtooktheletterfromhisroom.’‘Soundsunlikely.’‘Itdoes,yes,butit’strue
allthesame.Wittenberg’sacleverman,subtle,likeyou
say,intalksanddiscussionsandthat,buthe’sabovestealinginapersonalway.Imeansomeonelikehimcouldletthousandsdiebutcouldn’tkillamanstandinginfrontofthem.ItnevercrossedhismindI’dbetrayhiswife’sgenerosityorhis.Isupposehehasn’thadmydisadvantages.’‘Whatelsedoyouknow?’‘WhatItoldyou.It’sa
letternotaconfession.Youhavetoreadabitbetweenthelinesbutnotmuch.Seeforyourselfwhenitcomes.’EventhoughCalewas
lyinghehadmoreorlessaccuratelysetoutthepositionoftheHanse,notsoverysurprisinginthattherewereonlyalimitednumberofoptionsavailabletothem,giventhattheywereatradingfederationwhousedmilitary
powertoprotecttheirfinancialinterestsonlywhenitwasunavoidable.ButitwasaboutmorethanjustmoneybecausetheyhadalreadyprovidedagreatdealtotheAxisandwouldprovidemore.Partlyitwastheopen-endedfinancialriskofwar:therewasalimittogivingmoney,evenifitwasagreatdealofmoney,buttherewasnolimittothetreasurethata
warcouldswallowup.Andtheywerealsomindfuloftheviewthatwarwasthefatherofeverything–itproducedchangesevenforthevictoriousthatcouldhaveuntoldconsequences.Farbettertostayonthesidelines,makingvaguepromisesyouhadnointentionofhonouring,handingovercashandstayingoutofitaslongaspossible.
SadlyforCale,thishappyguessworkwasofnopracticalvaluebeyondbeingplausible–Kittyexpectedproofandtherewasn’tany.Andheexpecteditinthenextfewminutes.
16
SincehehadcomeintoKitty’sroom,hammershadbeenworkinginCale’sbraintocomeupwithanescapeplananddecidewhattodoaboutKittytheHare.HehadneverseenKittydoanything
morethanstandorsit.Whatwashe?Hehadseenthepeculiarpaw-likerighthandandsincehehadtakentowearingthepeakedcapandthedirtylookingbrownlinenveiltherewasonlythecooinglyprecisevoicetogoby.Whatifhehadteethtotearyouwith,clawsassharpasrazorstocut,armssobrutaltheycouldripyourbonecasingsapartlike
Grendel,orworse,likeGrendel’smum?Hewasunknownuntilthemomenthewasattacked.Thentherewasthedoorandthemenoutsidewhocouldopenitwhenevertheywantedto.Thentherewasgettingaway.Toomanyunknownsforsomeonewho,evenatsixteen(ifthatwasCale’sage),wasnolongerthemanheusedtobe.Hispositionwassoevilthat,even
ashewaspouringcamelmanureintoKitty’searandlookingaroundtheroomforameansofblockingthedoorandfindingsomethingthatmighthelpintheinflictionoftheviolencethatwascertainlycoming,hewasalsocursinghimselfforfailingtoobserveoneofIdrisPukke’smostlyhighlypolishedaphorisms:alwaysresistyourfirstimpulses,theyareoften
generous.Afterall,thosetwocretinshadgoneoffontheirdementedfrolicentirelyoftheirownfreewill.Whyshouldhediefortheirstupidity?Butitwastoolateforthatnow.Itbegan.Calerantothe
largebookcasethatstretchedfromfloortoceiling,packedwithKitty’saccounts.Hejumpedashighashecouldandstartedheavingonitlike
aderangedmonkey.Luckilyitwasfreestandingandtoppledeasilyandsoquicklythathealmostfellunderitasitcrashedtothefloorinfrontofthedoorandblockeditfromopening.Kitty’sbodyguardsstarted
pushingagainstitwithalltheirstrength.Kittystoodupfrombehindhisenormousdeskandmovedafewstepsbackward.Washewaitingin
terrorforhisguardstobreakinorwashecalmlypreparinghimselftotearThomasCaleintosmall,meatypieces?CalehadbeenbeatenbyBoscointobelievingonethingaboveallothers–onceyoudecidetoattack,commitwithoutletorhindrance.CaletookfourstepstowardsKittyandjabbedtheheelofhishandintohisface.ThescreamKittyletoutashefell
shookevenCale.Itwasn’tthescreamofamanmutilatedonthebattlefieldoracorneredanimal,butmorelikeafuriousandfrightenedbaby–high-pitchedandharrowing.AspotofbloodappearedonthelinenmaskasKittywailedandthrashedtogetagriponthepolishedfloor,allthewhiletheredstainspreading.Behindhim,thebodyguardswerecharging
thedoorsoheavilythatthegreatframeshookwitheachblow.Caleturnedtothedeskandheaved.Itwassoheavyitmighthavebeenscrewedtothefloor.Butfearpumpedhimupenoughtoshiftthedeskaninch,thentwo,thenagainwithgreaterandgreaterspeedashisfranticroarofeffortmixedwiththeheavingcrashesofthedoor,untilhehitthenowshiftingbookcase
withthedeskjustasthebodyguardshadsteppedbackforafinalpush.Thecollisionofdeskandbookcaseslammedthedoorshut,takingthefingertipsoftwomen’shandswithit.Hisbrainwasbuzzingwith
thescreamsinsidetheroom,thecriesofagonyoutside,andhislipsthrobbedwithpinsandneedlesasthepowerofthePhedraandMorphine
begantolag.HestaredatKitty,stillshriekinginthecorneroftheroom.Outsidetheguardshadgonesilent,planningsomething.Itisabusinessfullof
difficulty,killingalivingthing.Evenwiththemeans–thebluntobject,theusefulblade,thestillnessinducedbydread.Anythingmoreawkwardthanthewringingofachicken’snecktakesnerve
andpracticeandfamiliarity.Caleconsideredthetaskahead.Alreadyhislegsandhishandswereshaking.Nothingintheroomwouldhelp,itwasmoreorlessemptybutfortheboundredledgersonthefloor.Andwhatwashedealingwith?KittytheHarewasfrightened,tobesure,butthatdidn’tmeanhewasn’tdangerous.Calefelthis
artificialpowderstrengthbegintodrainaway.CouldhebeatKittytodeathwithhisfists?Andwhatwasbehindtheveil?Theshovingontheother
sideofthedoorbeganagain.Hesteppedforwardand,bendingdown,grabbedKittyandshiftedhimover.Hefumbledforhisneckandtriedtoholditinthecrookofhiselbow.Kittyrealizedwhathe
wasgoingtodoandbeganhowlingandscreamingagain,sohigh-pitchedithurttheears,hisfeetscrabblingonthepolishedfloor.Terrormadehimstrongandhewrenchedfreeandbackedaway,stillscreaming,tothefarwall.Againtheroom-shakingbatteringfromtheguardscrashingagainstthedoor.Itwasimpossibletogoonwithoutseeinghisface–
Caleneededtoseewhoorwhatwassovulnerabletobeinghurt.Hetoreoffthepeakedcapandbloodylinenveil.Disgustmadehimpull
back,shockedattheuglinessofwhathesaw.Thefaceandskullseemedtobelongtotwodifferentcreatures,onemoredeformedthantheother.Therightsideofhisheadwasdistendedalongitsentire
length,asiftheskinhadbeenfilledwithstones.Hisrightcheekwasamatofwartygrowths,hislipsononesideswollenbythreeorfourinches.Buthalfwayalonghismouththelipsnarrowedandbecamequitenormal,andwitharecognizablyhumanexpression.Ontheleftsideofhishead,abovehisear,Kittyhadgrownthestrandsofhairmorethantwelveincheslong
andcombedthemoverinanefforttohideahugetumour.Hislefthand,too,wasperfectlyordinaryandratherdelicate,hisrightwaspaw-likebuthuge,asifithadbeencutandhealedintothreeparts,eachwiththelargeandpointednailsfromwhichKittygothisname.‘Pease!Pease!’saidKitty.
‘Pease!Pease!’Butitwashiseyesthatgot
toCale,deepbrownanddelicateasagirl’s,shiningwithfearanddread.Imaginewhatitistobeatalivingthingtodeathwithweakeninghandsandachingshoulders.Thetimeittook,thecryingout,thebloodinKitty’sthroatchokinghim,thefeetscrabblingonthefloor.Buttheblowswithhisfistandelbowhadtocarryonnomatterwhat.Itmustbe
done.Whenitwasover,Calesat
backonthefloor.Hedidnotfeelhorrorandhedidnotfeelpity.KittytheHaredidn’tdeservetolive;KittytheHaredeservedtodie.Butthenhe,ThomasCale,probablydeservedtodieaswellforallthehorriblethingshe’ddone.Buthewasn’tdeadandKittywas.Forthemomentatanyrate.
DuringthekillingofKitty,theguardshadbeenbatteringagainstthedoor.Nowthey’dstopped.Calewassoakedinsweat,nowcooling,andnotjustfromtheeffortofputtinganendtoKitty.Hislipswerefiringpinsandneedleseverfaster,hisheadthrobbing.‘It’smidnight,Goldilocks,’hesaidaloud,misrememberingthestoryhe’dheardArbelltellingher
littleniecesinMemphis.Hestoodupandbegan
openingthedrawersinthegreatebonydesk.Nothingbutpapers,exceptforabrasspaperweightandabagofboiledsweets–humbugs.Heateacouple,splinteringtheminordertogetthesugarintohisbody,thensteppednexttothedoorandbangeditthreetimeswiththepaperweight.Hethoughtheheard
whispering.‘KittytheHare.He’s
dead,’saidCale.Asilence,then,‘Then
you’regoingtosinghimtohisrest,shit-bag.’‘Why?’‘Whythefuckdoyou
think?’‘DidyouloveKitty?Was
Kittyafathertoyou?’‘Neveryoumindabout
whatKittywas.Prepareto
notbe.’‘Youwanttokilltheonly
friendyouhaveintheworld?Kitty’sdeadandthatmeansallhisenemies,manyandunkind,aregoingtodisjointhisgoodsandservicesamongthem.Notincludingyou–yourshareoftheprofitsisgoingtobeasix-footbytwo-footspaceinoneofKitty’sillegalrubbishtipsinOxyrinchus.’
Calewassurehecouldhearmutteringandarguing.Thisoughttobetheeasiestpart.Whathewastellingthemwastrueanditwasobvious.Thetroublewasthatriffraffhadtheirloyaltiesandaffectionslikeeveryoneelse.Andtheyalsowerepuffedupwiththedramaandactionofthelastfifteenminutes.Therewasgoingtobeviolentchangeonewayortheother
andThomasCalehadcausedit.Ifpeoplecouldbetrustedtoactintheirownbestinterestsitwouldbeadifferentworld.Heneededtolettemperscool.‘GoandgetCadbury.
Bringhimhereandthenwe’lltalk.’Silenceforafewmoments.‘Cadbury’sbuggeredoffto
Zurich.’‘Anyway,’shoutedthe
manwho’dtakenthelead,‘fuckCadbury.Youtalktous.Letusin.’TherequestforCadbury
hadbackfired.Whatcouldhedo,afterall?He’dexpectedthey’dhavetakentimetogoandfindhimonlytodiscoverhewasgone.Nowallhe’ddonewasannoyedwhoeverhadtakencontrol.Heconsideredbluster.Dangerous.Hechosebluster.
‘I’mThomasCale,I’vejustbeatenKittytheHaretodeathwithmybarehands.IkilledSolomonSolomonintheRedOperaintwosecondsandtherearetenthousandLaconicsrottingintheshadowoftheGolanHeights,andIwastheonewholeftthemthere.’Thoughhefeltdreadfulandhissituationwasdire,declaringhisgloriousachievementsaloudwas
exhilarating.Itallwastrue,wasn’tit?hethought.Therewasnoreply.‘Look.I’vegotnothing
againstanyofyou.Youweredoingwhatyouwerepaidfor.Kittygothisportionandthat’sthewayitis.Youcaneitherworkforme,withallthemoneyandwhateverprivilegesKittygaveyou,andabonusoftwohundreddollarsandnoquestions
asked,oryoucantakeyourchanceswithGeneralButt-NakedandLordPeanutButter–I’mtoldthatGeneralButt-Nakedkeepshistroopslivelybystringingtheintestinesofthosewhodisappointhimacrossthestreetsoftheslumshecontrols.’Theseluridstoriesof
Kitty’srivalswere,infact,true.EveninSwitzerland,a
civilizedplaceoftradewithadmirablycleanstreetswhereallwasordered,itspeopleprosperousandlaw-abiding,therewerepartsofitthatweretheverybowelsofdarkness.Astone’sthrowfromgenerousstreetsandthegeneroussoulswholivedinthemasavageryandacrueltyofakindthatwasimpossibletoimagineexceptforthefactthatithappenedtookplaceat
allhoursandwithinashortwalk.Isn’titthesamewithallcitieseverywhere,andinalltimes?Thecivilizedandtheinhumanlycruelareseparatedonlybyashortstroll.Afterafewminutes’more
talking,Calefilibusteringtodrawoutthetimeandletthemcalmdownandseethingsastheywere,hepushedbackthedeskjust
enoughtogivethempurchase–noeasymatter,hisstrengthwasfadinginjabsandbursts.Hewentandsatdown,casual,inKitty’schairandwaitedforhisbodyguardstopushbacktheheavybookcase.Sotheyfiledin,obviously
warybutalsosubduedbythebodyinthemiddleofthefloor.Itwasnotdeathorbloodthatworriedthem–
thatwastheircalling,afterall–butthesightofunstoppablepowersuddenlystopped.Kittywasmyth–hisreachraneverywhere.Noweveninthegloomitwasn’tjustthatdeathhadrobbedhimofpowerbutthathewasrevealedasdeformed,eatenandswollenbygrowths,distendedandspoilt.Whattheyhadfearednowrevoltedthemandallthemore
intenselybecauseoftheintensityofthatfear.Nowtheirterrordemeanedthem.‘Isawasea-cow,’saidone,
‘deadinthewaterforaweekwholookedlikethat.’Heproddedhimwithhisfeet.‘Leavehimalone,’said
Cale.‘Youkilledhim,’protested
theman.‘Leavehimalone.’‘Whoareyoutogiveus
orders?’That,thoughtCale,isa
goodquestion.‘BecauseI’mtheonewho
knowswhattodonext.’Someofthemeninthe
roomwerestupid,othersintelligentandambitious,butCale’sassertionthrewthembadly.ItwasnotthatCalehadtheanswer,becausereallyhehadnoideawhattodonext.Hisadvantageover
themlayinrealizingthatwhattodonextwastheonlythingthatmattered.‘Howmanyofyoucan
write?’Threeofthefifteenmen
slowlyputuptheirhands.‘Haveanyofyouworked
forGeneralButt-Naked?’Twohandswentup.‘PeanutButter?’Threehands.‘Iwantthethreeofyou
thatcanwritetosetdowneverythingyouknowonpaper.Iftherestofyouhaveanythingtoaddthensayso.’Hestoodup.‘I’llbebackinthreehours.Lockthedoorbehindmeanddon’tletanyoneinorout.IfthenewsofKitty’sdeathgetsaround,youknowwhatthatmeans.’Thenhewalkedout,fullofpurposeandclarity.Atanymomentheexpectedtobe
stopped,tobeaskedtheobvioustwoquestionsthathecouldn’tanswer.Butnoonesaidanything.Hewasoutofthedooranddownthestairstothemostwelcomingsoundhehadeverheard:thelockturningbehindhim.
Feelingsickerwitheverystep,CalehadgonetoIdrisPukkeonhiswaytofindVagueHenriandKleist.The
reliefonIdrisPukke’sfacewasevidenteventoCale,wretchedandangrywithhimashewas;itwasthelookofamanwho’dcometofeelhe’ddonesomethingdreadfulbutwhichhadturnedoutallrightintheend.Caletoldhimwhathadhappenedandaskedhimtocomewithhimtoseetheboysandsendsomeoneforadoctor.Itwasnoteasytoastonish
IdrisPukkeandforthefirstfewminutesofthewalkhewassilent,thenjustastheywereabouttoenterthedigs,IdrisPukketookCale’sarmandstoppedhim.‘Whatwasitlike?’‘Itwasabaddo.Ican’tsay
itwasn’t.Idon’tfeelsorryforKitty–hegotwhathedeserved–butwhenIwaswalkingtoyouafterIgotoutIunderstoodsomethingabout
whyhewantedtomaketheworldafraidofhim.Whatwerehischoices?Makehislivinginafreakshowwiththegeekwhoeatsfrogsorthebonelesswonder?Dependonthekindnessofothers?Don’tgetmewrong,though–Iwasn’tthinkingthatwhenIbashedhisbrainsout.’‘IfeelI’veletyoudown,’
saidIdrisPukke.Calesaidnothingatfirst,thinking
aboutwhathesaid.ThishadallbeenVagueHenri’sandKleist’sfault.IdrisPukkehadbeenprettygoodtothemall,eversincehe’dmetthem,fornoverygoodreason.Calehadaskedhimtocheatonhisbrother.Butsomethinghadbeenpeckinginhissoul–eventhoughhecouldn’tseewhy,heagreedthatIdrisPukkehadinsomewaybeendisloyaltohim.
‘No.No,youdidn’t,’hesaid.Andtheymovedon.Justfromthebriefglimpse
he’dhadoftheminthehouseheknewtheboyswereinbadnick.Nowhewasabletolookthemoverproperlytheylookedevenworse.Kleistwasunabletospeakhismouthwassoswollen.Thelittlefingersonboththeirlefthandshadbeenbrokenalongwiththethumbs.Caletold
themKittywasdead.‘Wasitslow?’saidVague
Henri.‘Asslowasyoulike.’Whenthedoctorarrivedhe
cleanedthemupcarefully;itwaspainfulstuff.Exceptfortheirfacesandhandsmostofthedamagewasbruising.Kleistkeptspittingbloodandthedoctorquietlyworriedtothemthattheremightbeahaemorrhageinside.‘Ifhe
startsshittingblood,callmeatonce.’StillnotaltogetherdownfromthePhedraandMorphine,CalecouldnothelpbutadmirethatthestitchingofVagueHenri’sfacefromthewoundoftheyearbeforehadheldupnicely.ButKleistdidn’tseemallthereandkeptdriftinginandout.‘Kitty,’hemumbled.‘Kitty’sdead.’
‘Kitty,’hemumbledagain,andkeptontillhepassedoutcompletely.ThedoctorputVague
HenritosleepwithamixtureofValerianandPoppyOilandCaleandIdrisPukkewatchedoverthem.‘Whatwillyoudowith
them,Kitty’speople,now?’Caleseemedsurprised.‘Nothing.Letthemrot.’‘There’stoomuchmoney
andpoweratstakejusttoletitgo.’‘Youhaveitthen.’‘Iwashopingyou’dsay
that.’‘Youdon’tneedmysay-
so.’IdrisPukkedetectedthe
sourness.Hedidnotblamehim–hewasashamedofhisrefusaltohelpintherescueofVagueHenriandKleistbutthiswastooimportantan
opportunitytopassup.Anempireofsortswasgoingbegging.‘IthoughtI’dsendfor
Cadbury,’IdrisPukkesaid.‘He’llknowtheSPoneverythingKittywasupto.’‘Ithinkyou’llmakea
lovelycouple,’saidCale.Andwiththathewenttosleep.Itdidindeedturnouttobe
agreatmatch,ifnotone
madeinheaven.Criminalscumareoftensentimentalabouttheirmothersbut,ingeneral,thisisthefurthestextentoftheirloyalty.Outsidersalmostbydefinition,theyaren’tusuallymovedbytheideaofinnaterank,socialorderorhierarchy,exceptwhenit’simposedbythecontinuousthreatofviolence.Wheretherearebeggarstherecan
neverbeakingrestingeasywithhiscrown.IdrisPukkesurrounded
Kitty’shousetopreventtheoccupantsfromleaving.Hedidn’twantafussandtoldthemhewaswaitingforCadburytoarrivetosorteverythingout.Healsopromisedtoraisetheirbonustofivehundreddollars.ThefollowingmorningCadburyarrived,havingbeenhalted
duringhisflighttoOxyrinchus,stillamazedbythenewsofKitty’sdeath.ThoughtherewasnogeneralaffectionforCadburyamongthoseinsidethehouse,hewasatleastfamiliartothemandhadareputationforbeingsmart.BynowtheyneededasaviourandthechangeoverfromKittytheHaretoIdrisPukkeandCadburywassoquickthatinbarelyaweek
Kittywasalreadypassingintothemythinwhichhemostnaturallybelonged.Fromnowon,storieswouldbetoldabouthimbymotherssweetlythreateningtheirchildrentobegoodorKittytheHarewouldcomeforthem.Thenthesesamechildrenintheirlateryearswouldscaretheiryoungersiblingswithblood-curdlingaccountsofthedeformed
Kittywieldingachainandasawoverhaplessmaidsdoomedtobeingdismemberedandeaten;andthen,astheyearspassed,hisreputationreachedtheCeltsintheeast,wheretheytransformedhimintoafriendlyoldharesellingpegsandtellingghoststoriesforapennyago.
17
Astheswellingswentdownandthebruisescameoutinpurplesandbrowns,VagueHenribecamealmostecstaticallycheerful.Kleistnotso–heseemedtohavebeenstruckhardbythe
eventsinKitty’shouse.Hesleptalotandwouldn’ttalkmuchwhenhewasawake.Theythoughtitbesttoleavehimalone,thathe’dcomeoutofitinhisowntime.OnceVagueHenriwasuptowalkingheandCalewentforastrollalongthePromenadedesBastionsandwatchedthegirlsintheirspringdressesforgettingthedreadfulrumoursofwarthatwerein
theair,andthetwoboysforgotalongwiththem.TheyboughtchocolatecakeburstingwithcreamandCaletormentedVagueHenribybreakingoffpiecesandalmostfeedinghimbutthenputtingthecakeinhisownmouth.Onthebandstandadozen
musiciansplayed‘I’veGotaLuverlyBunchofCoconuts’,thatspring’smostpopular
song.AgroupofgirlsofaboutthesameageastheboysscoldedCaleandtookthecakeawayandbeganfeedingtheboywiththebandagedhandsasifhewasababy.Andhelovedit.‘Whathappenedtoyour
poorhands?’saidoneofthem,awayward-lookingredhead.‘Hefelloffhishorse,’said
Cale.‘Drunk.’
‘Don’tlistentohim,’saidVagueHenri.‘Ididitsavingasmallpuppyfromdrowning.’Moregigglesatthis–a
lovelysound,likerunningwater.Fortenminutesheflirted
withthegirls,nibblingtheirfingersastheyfedhimsotheytoldhimoffforbiting,thoughnotthegirlwithredhairwholethimsuckthe
thickwhitecreamoffhermiddlefingerformuchtoolongwhileherfriendschatteredlikestarlingsandgaspeddelightedlyathershockingbehaviour.Calesatinthesunattheotherendofthebench,lookedatbytwoofthegirlswhowouldn’thavemindedfeedinghimsomethingmorethancakeifthey’donlyhadtheencouragement.Calelapped
itallup:thewarmsun,theprettygirlsandhisfriend’spleasure.Butitwasasifitwereasceneonlytobeobserved,notinitselftodowithhim.Hedidn’tevennoticethegirlslookingathim.Eventuallyaresponsible
adultcameandroundedthegirlsupandtookthemaway.‘We’reoftenhere,’they
said.‘Goodbye!Goodbye!’
‘Odd,’saidVagueHenri,‘acoupleofdaysagoitwasthedeepsixandnowit’sgirlsandcake.’‘What’llyouremember
best?’‘Sorry?’‘Painandsufferingorgirls
andcake?What’llyourememberbestayearfromnow?’‘Whatareyouonabout?’‘IdrisPukkesaidpainwas
muchmorethanpleasure–thatyouremembereditmore.Ifyouwereapythoneatingapig,it’dbeabitpleasurableforthepythonbutmightynastyforthepig.Andthat’slife,hesaid.Soyoushouldknow,havinghadbothinaweek.Painandsufferingorgirlsandcake?’‘Whyjustme?’saidVague
Henri.‘Weren’tyoushittingyourselfbeforeyoukilled
Kitty?’‘Me?Notme.I’myour
swashbucklinghero-typeperson.I’mnotafraidofanything.’Theybothstartedgiggling
atthis,notunlikethegirlswho’dbeenthereafewminutesbeforeandwhoknewnothingaboutpainandsuffering–although,ofcourse,youcouldnevertelljustbylookingatsomeone.
‘Me?I’mforgirlsandcake,’saidVagueHenri.‘You?’‘Painandsuffering.’Theybothstartedlaughing
again.‘Soundsbarnowltome,’
saidVagueHenri.
ForthenextfewdaystheytriedcheeringupKleistbutherefusedtobemadeanyhappier.EventuallyCalegave
himteafromhisdailysupplyofChase-DevilgivenhimbySisterWrayandhopedthatwouldbringhimround.Itdidn’tseemtodomuchotherthanmakehimfeelsick.AfewdayslaterCaleand
VagueHenriwentofftofindtheoutdraggerwho’dpickedupthepairfromKitty’sandtakenthemhome.‘Myfriendherewantedto
thankyoupersonally,’said
Calewhentheytrackedhimdown.‘Thankyou,’saidVague
Henri.Themanlookedathim,not
hostilebutcertainlynotgrateful.Calegavehimtherestof
themoneyhe’dpromisedandanotherfivedollarsontop.‘You’rewelcome,’saidthe
outdraggertoVagueHenri,clearlyindifferenttowhathe
thoughtonewayortheother.‘Youprobablysavedour
lives,’saidVagueHenri,awkwardandirritatedbytheoutdragger’srefusaltobegratefulforhisgratitude.‘Fifteendollars?’saidthe
outdragger.‘Yourlivesaren’tworthmuch,arethey?’VagueHenristaredathim
thengavehimanothertendollars,allhehadonhim.Hewaitedforsomesignof
appreciationbuttheoutdraggermadenoacknowledgementbeyondputtingthemoneyinapursehetookfromhispocket.ItwaspulledtightbyacordfromwhichhungasmallirongibbetdanglingatinyHangedRedeemer.Antagonistsofwhateverkinddidnotapproveoftheseholygibbets.EverybodywassuspiciousoftheTinkers
whoseownversionofthefaithwentbacktobeforethegreatsplit.‘Letmegiveyousome
advice,’saidVagueHenri,notatallawkwardanymore,‘worthmorethantendollars.Putawaytheholygibbetthereanddon’tbringitoutuntiltheconversionoftheMasons.’TheRedeemersbelievedtheMasonstobethemostblasphemousofall
religionsandthattheirconversionwouldtakeplaceattheendoftime.Cale’sinterestwas
elsewhere.‘Tellmeaboutyourcart,’hesaid,lookingatthehandcartKleistandVagueHenrihadbeenhauledawayin.Forthefirsttimesince
they’darrived,Cale’squestionseemedtoinspireenthusiasm.Thetinkerwas
clearlyproudofhisbarrow.Thedesign,hesaid,wasasoldastheoutdraggersthemselvesbuthe’dmademanyimprovementsovertheyears;andalways,hepointedoutresentfully,tothedisapprovalofotheroutdraggers.‘Theydropdeadwhile
they’restillyoungpushingtheporkyhulksoftheGorgesthatkilledtheirfathersand
theirgrandfathersbeforethem.ImadethiscartfromapileofbambooscaffoldingIfoundinthedump.GottheideaforthespringsfromabouncyhorseIsawatacarnival.Costmetwodollarstogetitmadeup.’Caleandtheoutdraggertalkedaboutthecartandeverythingitslightnessandmobilityallowedhimtodointhewayofdeliveringheavierloadsup
steeperstreets.Why?thoughtVagueHenri.‘Whatastink,’saidVague
Henri,astheywalkedawayintothecity.‘You’vegotveryswanky
forsomeonewhoseideaofheavenusedtobeanicejuicyrat.’‘Whatwasthatallabout
then,thecart?’‘I’minterestedinhow
thingswork.Anignorantman
fromignorantpeoplethatoutdragger–butclever.Interestingbloke.’Whentheygotbackto
theirlodgings,anirritatedIdrisPukkewaswaitingforthemalongwithCadburyandDeidrePlunkettwho,withherscarletlipsandrougedcheeks,lookedlikenothingonGod’searth.‘Punctualityisthe
politenessofkings,’said
IdrisPukketoCale.‘Letalonesomeonewhowassoldforsixpence.’‘Wewereheldup.Hello,
Deidre.Areyouwell?’‘Nothingshallbewellwith
thewicked.’Therewasashortsilence.‘Speakingofthewicked,
Deidre,’saidCadbury,‘wouldyoumindkeepinganeyeoutforanyonebehavingoddly?’Sheleftsilently.
‘She’slovely,’saidVagueHenri.‘Holdyourtongue,you
littletwerp,’repliedCadbury.‘We’vecomefromKittytheHare’soffice.’Calenodded.‘IdrisPukketellsmeyou’re
alwayscomplainingaboutyourbadluck–butIhavetosayifyou’daskedmewhatyourchanceswereofgettingoutalivefromyourinterview
withKittyI’dhavesaidaboutasthinasahomeopathicsoupmadefromtheshadowofapigeonthat’ddiedofstarvation.’‘Idon’tknowwhat
homeopathicmeans.’‘Inthisinstance,itmeans
notworththesteamoffabucketofpiss.’‘I’lltrytoremember–
goodword,homeopathic.’‘Idon’thavetimeforthis,’
saidIdrisPukke.‘WhateverpeoplethoughtofKittytheyunderestimatedhim.HisloanbooksareamazewithanexitineverytreasurythissideoftheGreatWallofChina.Theydidn’tknowKittywasbehindthem–I’vecountedmorethantwentyfrontmenasitis.MostofthemshouldhaveknownbetterthantodealwithsomeonelikeKitty.Myguessisthathewas
blackmailingthem.Butyouneverknowwithsplendidfinancierswhatthey’lldoforevenmoremoney.’‘Idon’tcomplainaboutmy
badluck,’saidCale.‘Yes,youdo,’replied
IdrisPukke.‘Atanyrate,alotofpeopleoweKittyalotofmoney.Now,thankstoyou,we’veinheritedtheirobligationstopayup.’‘Whatiftheydon’twant
to?Kitty’sdead,afterall.’‘But,asCadburyhas
pointedout,exactingpaymentfromKitty’sdebtorsisverymuchhislineofwork.’‘What’smyshare?’‘Wethoughtatenth,’said
Cadbury.‘HekillsKittyandyouget
nine-tenths?Seemsthewrongwayroundtome,’saidVagueHenri.
‘Youknowalotdoyou,youungratefulyoungpup,aboutrunningacriminalenterprise?You’reboth,I’msure,deeplyknowledgeableabouttradinginoptionsandfuturesinthecollateralizationofdebtandwhattodowhenanentirecountrythreatenstodefault.’‘No,’saidVagueHenri.‘Thenshutup.’IdrisPukke
turnedtoCale.‘Doyouthink
I’dstealfromyouordoyouabadturn?’‘No.’‘Sowe’reagreed.Tenper
cent.You’llbeveryrichifCadburyistellingthetruth,orhalfthetruth.’‘Nowyou’vehurtmy
feelings,’saidCadbury.‘Youknowthoseboys
KittyhadinMemphis?Didhebringthemhere?’‘Nothingtodowithme,
thatstuff.’‘Itisnow.Iwantyouto
findthemandletthemgo.Givethemfiftydollarseach.’‘Fiftydollarsforarent
boy?’Cadburycouldsee
immediatelythatCalewasnotinthemoodtobedisagreedwith.‘Allright,I’llseetoitbutit’llcomeoutofyourshare.’Buthecouldn’tleaveit.‘Youcan’tdo
anythingforthem.Notnow.Thisiswhatthey’reusedto.They’llspendthemoneyandendupwithPeanutButterorButt-Naked.They’llbeworseoffthantheywerewithKitty.Eitherleavethemastheyareortakecareofthem.’‘DoIlooklikesomebody’s
mother?Thefourofusdidallright.Riba’spracticallytheQueenoftheRussians.Andnowthethreeofusarerich.
Givethemthemoneyandletthemgo.Thenit’suptothem.’Onhiswayhome,Cadbury
thoughtaboutwhatCalewanted.WhathesaidaboutRibawastrueenough.CadburyhadseenherlookinggorgeousatsomesocialthrashKittyhadsenthimto,tohaveawordwithsomeFauntleroyorotherwhowaslatewithhispaymentsand
whohadimportantinformationKittywanted,muchmoreimportantthanthepifflingthreethousandthatwasowed.He’dseenRibaathightable.Shewassomethingtolookatinherredgown,hairpileduplikealoaf.ButastoCaleandtheothersbeingallright,youjusthadtolookatthestateofthem.
18
VagueHenriandCalehadmadeonefurthercondition,ofakind:Cadburyhadtokillthetwomenwhohadbeatentheboyssobadly.Cadburywasgoingtodothisanywaybecausehe’dbeentoldthey
werelookingforachancetotakeoverKitty’soperationthemselves,butitwouldn’tdoanyharmtoletCalethinkhe’dconcededsomething.‘It’llhavetobequick,’he
toldthethreeboys.‘IonlytorturepeoplewhenIreallyneedtoknowsomething:ifyouwantthemtosufferyoumustdoityourself.’Quickwouldbeallright,
theysaid.
ThatnightthetwomenweretiedupandwhentheydemandedtoknowwhatwouldhappentothemCadburysaid,‘Youmustdieandnotlive.’Thenextday,alongwithKittytheHare,theirbodiesweretakentobeburiedintherubbishtipsatOxyrinchus.Meanwhile,inthecivilized
placesafewhundredyardsaway,Vipondwasinthe
ascendant.NowthathewasinpossessionofKitty’sredbooks,andthemoneysecretsinsidethem,thedoorsthatwereonceclosedtohimwerenowopening.ConnMaterazzi,whose
colddisdainfortheKingmadehimevermoreagreeableinhisadmirer’sadoringeyes,wasnowincommandoftenthousandhouseholdSwitzers,soldiers
ofconsiderableskillandreputation.HewasopposedinhisrisebytheSwisschancellor,BoseIkard,butnotbecauseofhisyouthandinexperience.Infact,suchthingswerelastofallonhismind:thealternativetoConncouldonlybedrawnfromtheSwissaristocracy,whomayhavebeenolderbutweregenerallynotverybrightandhadconsiderablylessmilitary
trainingthantheyoungman.WhatalarmedIkardwastheinfluencethisgavetoVipondandhisnolessdangeroushalf-brother.Hefearedanypowermovingintotheirhandsbecauseallthatconcernedthemwaswhatwasgoodfortheself-servingwar-mongeringMaterazziandnotwhatwasgoodforanyoneelse.Vipondwouldhaveunderstoodhisfearsbut
wouldhavepointedoutthatfortheforeseeablefuturetheirmutualinterestslayinopposingtheRedeemers.ButIkardfearedwarmorethananythingwhileVipondthoughtitwasinevitable.InfactBoseIkardand
Vipond,andevenIdrisPukke,werenotsodifferent,inthattheywereexperiencedenoughtobesuspiciousofdecisiveactioninwaror
anythingelse.Lifehadtaughtthemtospineverythingoutuntilthelastminute,thenappeartoagreetosomemajorconcessionandthen,whenallseemedtobedecided,findsomewaytospinthingsoutagain.‘Thetroublewithdecisive
agreement,justaswithdecisivebattles,’lecturedVipondtoCale,‘isthattheydecidethingsandlogic
dictatesthattheremustbeanextremelygoodchanceofthembeingdecidedagainstyou.WhenanyonetalkstomeaboutadecisivebattleI’minclinedtohavehimlockedup.They’reaneasysolutionandeasysolutionsareusuallywrong.Assassinations,forexample,neverchangehistory–notreally.’‘TheTwoTrevorstriedto
assassinatemeatthePriory.
Itwouldhavechangedthingsiftheyhad,’saidCale.‘Youmusttakeamore
nuancedview.Whatwouldithavechanged?’‘Well,KittytheHare
wouldstillbealiveandyouwouldn’thavehismoneyandhissecrets.’‘Idon’tconsiderKitty’s
deathtohavebeenanassassination–bywhichImeanthepursuitof
impersonalpoliticalendsbyanactofpersonalviolence.Kitty’sdeathwasjustcommonmurder.Ifyouwanttomakesomethingofyourselfyoumuststopslaughteringpeople,oratleaststopslaughteringthemforpurelyprivatereasons.’Calewasalwaysreluctant
nottohavethelastwordwithanyone,evenVipond–buthisheadachedandhewas
tired.‘Leavetheboyalone,he’s
notwell,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Whatdoyoumean?The
boyknowsI’monlygivinghimthebenefitofmyexperience.’HesmiledatCale.‘Pearlsbeyondprice.’Calesmiledbackdespitehimself.‘Iwantedtotalktoyou
aboutadifficultmatter:ConnMaterazziwon’thaveyouon
hisstaff.’Apuzzledsilencefrom
Cale.‘Nevercrossedmymindhewould.’‘Hisdislikeofyouisquite
understandable,’saidVipond.‘Nearlyeveryonetakesexceptiontoyou.’‘Hedislikesmeevenmore
sincehewasinmydebt,’saidCale,referringtohislongregrettedrescueofConnfromthecrushedandgaspingpiles
ofthedeadatSilburyHill.‘He’sgrownupagood
dealsincethen.Transformed,I’dsay.Buthewon’tbedoingwithyouatanyprice.Weneedyoutobeadvisinghimandverybadly.Buthe’sadamantagainstevenmyconsiderabletemperwhenIdon’tgetmyownwayonsomethingsoimportant.Why?’‘Noidea.Askhim.’
‘Ihave.’Calesatinsilence.‘Movingon,’continued
Vipond,afteramoment.‘Onbalance,we’vedecidednottotellanyoneaboutthelikelihoodoftheRedeemersbeginningtheirattackthroughtheArnhemlanddesert.’‘Youdon’tbelieveme?’‘Ibelieveyou.Butthe
problemisthatifwewarntheAxisandtheydosomething
aboutitbyreinforcingthebordernexttotheMaginotLinetheRedeemerswillhavetore-thinkeverything.IfIunderstandyoucorrectly,’hedid,thiswasmerelyflattery,‘theRedeemers’entirestrategyforthewardependsonaswiftbreakthroughthere.’‘So?’‘Ifthatentryisblocked,
they’llhavetothinkagain.’
‘Yes’‘Wouldyousayalong
delay?’‘Probably.’‘Perhapsanotheryearif
theymustmissthesummerandautumn.Theywon’tattackinthewinter.’‘Theyprobablywon’t.’‘Ifyousayso.Butyou
agreethatblockingArnhemlandnowwillprobablydelaythewarfora
year?’‘Probably.’‘Well,wecan’taffordthat.
ByweImeantheMaterazziandyou.’‘Because?’‘BoseIkardispouring
plausiblebutfalsehopeintotheearoftheKing.He’ssayingthattheAxisingeneralandtheSwissinparticulararesealeduptightagainstBosco,thateitherthe
mountainsortheMaginotLinewillkeephimout.He’stellinghimthelandstheRedeemershavealreadytakenmaybeconsiderablebutthatthingsarenotasalarmingastheyappear.TheterritoriestheyhaveconqueredhavenothingmuchinthewayofresourcesworthhavingandsothetroubleofoccupyingthemwithRedeemerforceswill
consumemoreRedeemerbloodandtreasurethantheycanpossiblygainfromoccupyingthem.’‘Hehasapoint,’saidCale.‘Indeedhedoes–butour
pointisdifferent.Ifwearetobelieveyou,thenBoscowillcomebecausehemust,noworlater.Butifit’slaterthenwewillloseallcredibility.ItwillappearthatIkardiscorrect–theRedeemershave
takenlandthat’smoretroublethanit’sworthandarebarredbyaxisdefencesfromtakinganymore.Boscocan’tgoforward,hecanonlygoback.IfwewarnthemabouttheattackthroughArnhemlanditwillstopBoscoanditwilllookasifIkardisrightandwearewrong.We’lldeclineintoakindofnothing.’‘Soyou’regoingtoletthe
Redeemersin.’
‘Exactly.Youdisagree?’‘Itsoundsabitcleverdick
tome.Butyoumightberight.I’llhavetothinkaboutit.’‘Ifyouhaveabetteridea
letmeknow.’‘Iwill.’Buthalfanhourafterhe’d
left,CalewasprettysureVipondwasright.ThequestionwaswhatiftheRedeemersweren’theldat
theMississippi?Whatiftheycrossedoverandkeptoncoming?Themountainsthatprotectedthemfromanyonegettinginwouldbethemountainsthatstoppedanyonefromgettingout.TheonlyexitwasthroughtheSchallenbergPassandBoscowasreadytoshutthattightasacorkinabottle.ThateveningVipondand
IdrisPukkeweretryingto
browbeatArbellMaterazziinthesamecourse.‘Youmustpersuadehim,’
saidVipond.‘Hewon’tbetoldand
that’sthat.IfItriedtopersuadehimI’dmakehimagooddealangrieratmethanheisatyou–andhe’spissedoffwithyou,Icantellyou.’‘Don’tbesovulgar.’‘Thendon’ttellmeto
makeanenemyoutofmy
ownhusband.’‘Shehasapoint,’said
IdrisPukke.‘Wedon’twanttosendhimwherewecan’tgethimback.’‘He’snotatyourbeckand
callanyway,’shesaid,angrynowherself.‘He’snotapipeforyoutoplayon.’‘Istandcorrected,’said
IdrisPukke,touchyhimself.‘Besides,youthink
ThomasCaleisyoursaviour
andours.Areyousosure?’‘Youdidprettywelloutof
him,youungratefulmadam.’‘Ifhehadn’tcometo
MemphisI’dneverhaveneededrescuing.I’mnotungrateful.’‘I’veneverunderstoodthe
“not”infrontof“ungrateful”,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Itdoesn’tmeangrateful,doesit?’‘Allright,’shesaid,‘I’ma
thanklessbitch.Butwhereverhegoes,everyonesaysit,afuneralfollows.Hewasthecauseofuslosingeverything.Youthinkyou’recleverenoughtomakeuseofhimtodestroythepeopleyouhate–andhe’lldoit.Andhe’lltakeyouwithhim.Andmyhusbandandmyson.’Shestoppedforamoment.Thetwomensaidnothingbecausetherewasnopoint.‘You
shouldhavemoretrustinConn.Hecanbeagreatmanifyoucanmakefriendswithhimagain.’‘Itdoesn’tlooklikewe
havemuchchoice,’saidVipondthenextdaywhentheymetupwithCaleandVagueHenritodiscusswhatshouldbedonenext.‘Wemustletthepigpassthroughthepython.’Thetwoofthemstarted
sniggeringatthisliketwonaughtyschoolboysatthebackoftheclass.‘Growup!’hesaidtothem,butitonlymadethemworse.Whentheyeventuallystopped,Caletoldthemwhathethought.‘Iknoweveryonethinks
I’mnotgoodforanythingbutmurder–butthisisawickedthingwe’redoinghere.’‘SoI’mtold,’saidVipond.‘Whatifwe’rewrong?
Whatifsomeonefindsout?’‘Youthinkyou’retheonly
onewithreservations?Ihavethereputationforbeingawiseman,despitethefactthatIlostanentireempirewhileIwassupposedtobeitssteward.Butmyexperienceisstillworthsomething,Ithink.Greatpowers,andthemenwhorulethem,arelikeblindmenfeelingtheirwayaroundaroom,eachbelieving
himselfindeadlyperilfromtheotherwhomheassumestohaveperfectvision.Theyoughttoknowthatallthepoliciesofgreatpowersaremadeofuncertaintyandconfusion.Yeteachpowerfearsthattheotherhasgreaterwisdom,clarityandforesight–althoughtheyneverdo.YouandIandBoscoarethreeblindmenandbeforewe’refinishedwe’reprobably
goingtodoagreatdealofdamagetoeachotherandtotheroom.’
TwelvedayslatertheRedeemersracedacrossArnhemlandinlessthanthirty-sixhoursanddestroyedthefirstarmyoftheAxisinfivedays,theeightharmyoftheAxisinsixdaysandthefourtharmyoftheAxisintwodays.Theproblemwas
thatallthearmiesguardingArnhemlandandthosebackingitwereincreasinglypoorlyequippedintermsofexperienceandweaponry,allthebestsoldiersandequipmenthavingbeenreservedfortheexpectedlineofattackontheimpressivelywell-guardedMaginotLine.Theseweresoldierswhowouldhavehadagoodchanceofeithercheckingor
atleastslowingtheadvanceofthelightlyarmedfirstattackbytheRedeemersbuthavingbeencutofffromallmeansofresupplywereobligedtosurrenderwithoutmuchmorethanacrossword.ThisallhappenedwithsuchspeedthatVipondhadeveryreasontofearthathehadindeedbeentoocleverbyhalfandthathisdecisiontosaynothingwasnotonlywicked
butfoolish.Temporaryrescueofasortcamefromanunexpectedsource.
ArtemisiaHalicarnassusisalreadyanamelongforgotten–butofallgreatmenofmilitarygeniusnevergiventhecredittheydeservedshewas,perhaps,thegreatest.ArtemisiawasnoAmazonorValkyrie–shewasbarelyfivefoottallandwasso
concernedwithherappearance,withherbandedpaintedtoenailsandelaboratelycurledhair,thatonesurlydiplomathaddescribedherasmorepansythanfeminine.Inadditionshespokewithaslightlisp,whichmanythoughttobeanaffectationbutwasnot.Alongwithhertendencytoseemeasilydistracted(duetoboredomatthedullnessor
stupidityofwhatshewaslisteningto),andherhabitofinterjectingideasthatseemedmerelytohavedriftedacrosshermindinthewaysoftcloudsmovewithalightbreeze,therewasnoonewhocouldlookpastherappearanceandmannertorecognizeheroriginalandpenetratingintelligence.Asithappened,thecollapseofthearmiesoftheFlag,andthe
almostasquickdefeatoftheRegimeofthe14thofAugustthatlayinreservebehind,createdanextraordinaryanddefinitelyonceinalifetimechanceforArtemisiatoshowwhatshewasmadeof.Halicarnassus,whichhad
itsnorthernboundaryformedbytheMississippi,wasunusualinitsgeographyinthat,unliketheothercountriesthatborderedthat
greatriver,Halicarnassuswasaplaceoflimestonegorgesandawkwardhills.Seeingtheterriblecollapseinfrontofherandrealizingthevastnumbersofretreatingsoldierswouldbeslaughteredastheywerepinnedupagainstthenorthernbankofsuchadifficulttocrossriver,sheemergedfromHalicarnassuswiththesmallarmylefttoherbyherhusbandand,
spreadinghertroopslikeafunnel,managedtoguidelargenumbersoffleeingsoldiersintothetemporarysafetyofHalicarnassus.Thereshere-organizedtheterrifiedtroopsandarrangedforasmanyasahundredandfiftythousandtobeevacuatedacrosstheMississippi–amilewideatthatpoint.InthetendaysthattherescuetookshefoughtinHalicarnassus
itselftoslowdowntheadvancingRedeemers.ForthreeweeksHalicarnassusbulgedaloneintotheRedeemerarmyasitreachedthebanksoftheMississippiandmurderedthethousandsofsoldiersshehadnotbeenabletoprotectwhoweretrappedbytheriveraroundHalicarnassus.EventuallyArtemisiawasforcedtowithdrawandcrosstheriver
herself.Itisnotrecordedifsheexpectedtobegreetedbycheeringcrowds,theringingofchurchbellsandtheholdingofmanybanquetsinherhonour.Ifso,shewastobedisappointed.OnherarrivalinSpanish
Leeds,havingbeenmorethananyoneelseresponsibleforstoppingtheRedeemersattheMississippi,andthereforepreventingthemfrom
swarmingintoSwitzerlandtobeginthefirststageoftheendoftheworld,shewasgreetedwithpolite,ifbrief,applauseandaplaceatthebottomofthetable,likeaweddingguestwho’dbeeninvitedforform’ssakebutnoonewantedtotalkto.Shewasbeingignorednotjustbecauseshewasawoman,althoughitwaspartlythat;evenifArtemisiahadbeena
manitwouldhavebeenhardtoplaceherintheschemeofthings.Noonewhosejudgementtheyespeciallytrustedhadactuallyseenherinaction.Perhapshersuccesseswerejustgoodluckorexaggerated.Historywasfullofstrikingsuccessesbypeoplewhoeitherneverrepeatedthatsuccessorwhospectacularlyfailedwhentheyattemptedtodoso.
There’sareasonwhywefeelthattrusthastobeearned–byandlargeit’stheproductofrepeatedsuccess.ButArtemisiahademergedfromnowhereandhermannerwouldnotnecessarilyhaveinspiredconfidenceeveninanopen-mindedperson.Shedeservedthatconfidencebutitwasnotimpossibletounderstandwhyshedidn’thaveit.Shehadaskedtobe
putinchargeofthedefenceoftheSouthBankoftheMississippibutthishadnotbeensomuchrefusedassimplyreferredtovariouswarcommitteeswhereherrequestwouldevaporatelikeashallowpuddleinArnhemland.Shecouldhavereturnedtocommandherownsmallprivatearmy,butonlyonthebanksoppositeHalicarnassuswherenoone,
certainlynotArtemisia,thoughttheRedeemerswouldcrossbecausethereweresomanybetterplacestodoso.SoshedecidedtostayinSpanishLeedsandseewhatshecoulddotofindapositionwhereshecouldproperlyinfluenceevents.Fivedaysafterarrivingshe
wasalreadyindespair.Whenevershespokeattheinterminablemeetingsto
discussthewarherobservationswerefollowedbyashort,slightlypuzzled,silenceandthentheargumentscontinuedasifshehadneverspoken.ItwasatagardenpartyonthesixthdaythatshefirstmetThomasCale.Shehadbeentryingtoinsertherselfinthediscussionaroundvariousmilitaryadvisorswithoutsuccess–oncesheofferedan
opinionitactedlikesoaponoil–thegroupquicklydispersed,leavingherholdingaglassofwineandanamuseboucheoftoastedbreadandanchoviesandfeelinglikeanidiot.Eventually,inhighfrustration,shewentuptoayoungman,notmuchmorethanaboy,whowasleaningagainstawallandeatingavol-au-ventwithhisrighthand,whileholdingtwo
othersinhisleft.‘Hello,’shesaid.‘I’m
ArtemisiaHalicarnassus.’Theboylookedherover
whilecontinuingtochewslowlylike,shethought,anunusuallyintelligentgoat.‘Bignameforsuchalittle
girl.’‘Well,’shereplied,‘after
youtellmeyournameperhapsyoucangivemealistofyourachievements.’
Inmostothercircumstancesthiswouldhavebeensuccessfulatputtingsuchanobviousnobodyinhisplace.‘I’mThomasCale,’hesaid,andsetoutallhisgreatdeedsinaboastfullymatter-of-factway.‘I’veheardofyou,’she
said.‘Everyone’sheardofme.’‘I’veheardthatyou’rea
well-poisoningyobwholets
childrenandwomenstarveandbringscarnageandmassacrewhereverhegoes.’‘I’vedonemyfairshareof
well-poisoningandmurder.ButI’mnotallbad.’Hewasusedtohearing
abuselikethis,ifnotdirectly.Whatwasstrangeaboutitthistimewasnotjustthatitwassaidtohisface,butthatitwasdoneinaslightlydistractedmanner,herblue
eyesfluttering,andinatonethatifshewerenotaccusinghimofdreadfulinfamieswouldhavebeenalmostsicklysweet.Shewaslookingatherfingernailsasiftheywereanobjectoftotalfascination.‘I’veheardofyou,too.’Shelookedupathim,eyes
fluttering,foralltheworldlikesomefabuloussocialbutterflyabouttoreceiveyet
anothercomplimentaboutherrefulgentbeauty.Sheknew,ofcourse,aninsultwascoming.Calespunthemomentout.‘Notbad,’hesaidatlast.‘IfwhatIheardwastrue.’‘Itistrue.’Shehadnotmeanttoshow
shecaredforotherpeople’sgoodopinionsomuch.Andindeedshedidn’t.Atleastnotsomuch.Butshedidcarefor
it.Andshehadbeensocrossaboutnotbeinggivenherduethatthissurprisingcomplimentcaughtherout.‘Thentellmeaboutit,’
saidCale.Perhapsnotevengirlsor
cakecanequalthepleasuresofferedbysomeoneofthehighestreputationinformingyouofyouruniquebrilliance.Calemayhavebeenawell-poisoningmurdererbut
Artemisiafoundtheseunhappyqualitiesrecedingintothebackgroundasitbecameclearboththatheknewwhathewastalkingaboutandthatheadmiredherenormously.Itwasnotjusthisflatterythatwarmedher.Hisquestions,scepticismanddoubts,allofwhichshewasabletoanswer,gaveasmuchdelightashavingthesoremusclesofherdelicateneck
andshouldersmassagedbyexperthands.Shewas,bythistime,nearlythirtyyearsoldandwhileshehadlikedherlatehusband,whohadadoredherandindulgedherinherpeculiarinterest,shehadnotlovedhimoranyman.Mendesiredhernotbecauseshewasbeautifulinanyconventionalway,butbecauseoftheveryqualityofotherworldlydistractionanda
lackofinterestinthemthatalsoperplexedthem.Inshort,theyfoundherexcitinglyenigmaticbutwhattheyfailedtorealizeastheypraisedhermysteriousnesswasthatshedidnotwanttobemysterious.Shewantedtobeadmiredforherabilities,appreciatedforhergoodjudgement,cunningandbrains.Cale,withoutshowinganyapparentinterestinheras
awoman,understoodherbrillianceandsetitouttoherinadorabledetail,andforseveralhours.Bytheendoftheevening
shewas(howcouldshenotbe?)alreadyhalfinlove.Bothwereequallyastonishedthattheotherwasnotinsomepositionofgreatimportance,givenhowwonderfultheywere.Neitherofthem,perhapsforsimilarreasons,
hadanyideahowgallingandirritatingitwastobearoundthem.Theycouldnoteasilygraspthatnoone,especiallyiftheywereuntalented,wantedtohavetheirlackofabilitymadeplain.HearrangedtomeetherthenextdayatthewinegardeninRoundhayPark,whichdelightedher,andsaidthathewouldbringafriendofhisifhewaswellenough,which
didnotdelightherquitesomuch.Thenhewasgone.Hissuddendeparturemadehimseemmysterioustoheranditalsoleftheroff-balance;hehadseemedsofascinatedbyherbuthadthenleftsuddenlyandinanalmostoff-handway.Shewassomewhatputoutthatthisonlymadehimseemmoreattractive.Thetruthwashe’dleftsosuddenlybecausehefeltasif
hewasgoingtothrowup.Anxioustoavoidthebadimpressionthismightmakeheleftabruptlyandonlymadeittothestreetoutsidebeforehestartedretching.
‘ArtemisiaWhasername?’saidIdrisPukke,thenextmorning.‘Iwouldn’thavethoughtshewasyourtypeatall.’‘Meaning?’
‘Abitwinsome.’‘Windsom?’‘Affected.’‘Affected?’‘Makingashowofbeing
endearingandmysterious–allthoseflutteringeyelashesandstaringintothedistance.’‘Shewasn’tmakingashow
–shewasjustbored.She’sabrilliantwoman.’‘Youdon’tthinkallthat
stuffaboutheris
exaggerated?’‘IfIsayitwasn’t
exaggerated,thenitwasn’t.Iwentthrougheverything,triedtodismantleherheadtofoot,butshestooditup.Asithappens,she’samarvel.’‘WelliftheGreatBighead
thinkssowellofherwemusttakealook.’‘Why?’‘Someonewithsucha
greatabilitybutlessfullof
herselfthanyoucouldbeveryuseful.’
‘IdrisPukkewantstomeetyou,andVipond.’Artemisiawasexcitedby
thisandwasnotsomeoneabletohideherenthusiasm–hereyeswidened,hereyelashes,longasaspaniel’s,flutteredawayasifsignallingdesperatelytoadistantshore.Therewassomethingabout
her;perhapsmostimportantly,shewasnotThomasCale.Hewasverysickofhimselfindeed.Beinginthecompanyofasickpersonallthetimewasastrainevenifyouwerethesickperson:alwaysfeelinghorrible,neverwantingtogoanywhere,alwaysasleepor,whenawake,wantingtogobacktosleep.Shelikedhimagreatdeal,whichwasa
considerablehelp,asgirlsseemedmostlytobeafraidofhimorsometimes,moreworryingly,theyimaginedthatthisenticinglybadreputationwasamaskthatcouldberemovedbyasensitivewomantorevealthesoulmatebeneath.Theydidn’tappreciatethattherearesomesouls,notnecessarilythecruelorthebad,withwhichitmightbe
betternottojoin.Anotherthingthat
fascinatedCaleaboutArtemisiawasthatforthefirsttimehehadmetsomeonewhosestorywasodderthanhisown.Artemisiahadalwaysbeenapuzzlebecauseshewasnotomboy.Infact,shehadbeenconsideredthegirliestoflittlegirls–notatalllikeheroldersister,whowasnotoriousforherrough
andnoisyhabits.Artemisialikedpinkandfemininecoloursthatmadeyoureyesachetolookatthem,woresomanyfrillsandflouncesthatitcouldbehardtofindthelittlegirlhiddeninsidethemandhadacollectionofred-lippeddress-me-updollsthatnumberedinthehundreds.Courtiersbegantonoticethatinthemorningshewoulddressandundressthedolls,
babblingawaylikethelunaticsomanysmallchildrenresemble,scoldingherdollsforgettingdirtyorsquabblingwitheachotherorwearingthewrongglovesforaTuesday–butintheafternoonshewouldarrangethemingreateffeminatephalanxesofpinkandceruleanandworkoutthebestwayofslaughteringthem.Soldiersinmulberry
petticoatsfoughttothedeathwithirregularsinlavenderpastelbonnetsandcavalryridingoncottonreelsinbloomerscolouredbabyblue.Itwasassumedthatintime
hertasteforthesemincinglyeffeminatesoldieringgameswouldfadebutherinterestineverythingmilitaryseemedonlytogrowmoreintensetheoldershegot.Shehadnointerestinanyformof
personalviolenceatall.Shedidnotwanttopractisewithswordsorknivesor,Godforbid,wrestlewithboyslikeheroldersister.Shedidnothavetobeorderednottobox(likehersister),anymorethanshehadtobeorderednottofly.ShewasanexcellenthorsewomanbutnoonetriedtopreventthisbecauseHalicarnassuswasfamousforitshorsesandridingwas
consideredperfectlyacceptableforgirls.‘Youdon’tknowhowto
fight?’Caleasked.‘No.Myarmsaresoweak
Igetoutofbreathliftingupapowderpuff.’‘Icouldteachyou,’he
offered.‘Onlyifyouletmeteach
youhowtowearacorset.’‘WhywouldIwanttodo
that?’
‘Exactly.’‘Notexactlyatall.Idon’t
wanttobeagirl.’‘AndIdon’twanttobea
soldier.Iwanttobeageneral.Andthat’swhatIam.Youcancarryoncuttingpeople’sheadsoffandspillingtheirinsidesonthegroundingreatpilesofgibletsthesizeofMountGeneva.Butyoudon’thaveto–thereareplentyofpeople
whoaregoodatthat.’Hewonderedifheshould
tellhisnewfriendthat,withoutasnortofadrugpowerfulenoughtokill,hisdaysasascourgeofthebattlefieldwerelonggone.Buthethoughtbetterofitfornow.Howdidheknowshecouldbetrusted?However,ithadtobesaidthatsomethinginhimlongedtotellherthetruth.
Shefinishedherstory.Shehadbeenmarriedoffatfourteen,protestingnoisilyattheageoftheman,hisobscurity,andthatwherethecountrywasflatitwastooflatandwhereitwasmountainousitwashideouslyso.Inadditionitwastoohotinthesummerandtoocoldinthewinter.Ittooknearlyfouryearsofpetulanceandgeneraldisagreeableness
beforeshebegantoappreciatehergoodfortune.Daniel,fortiethMargraveofHalicarnassus,wasanintelligent,wiseandunconventionalman,thoughitwasanunconventionalityhehadcarefullyhiddenlestitfrightenhisfamilyandneighbours.Inaddition,headoredandwasamusedbyArtemisiaratherthanirritated,whichhehadevery
righttobegivenhowawkwardandrudeshewastohimatfirst.Whilehedidn’talwaysindulgeher,hedidencourageherinherpeculiarinterests,inpartoutofaffectionandtowinherheartandinpartoutofcuriositytoseewhereitwouldlead.Hewasn’tinterestedinwarbutherecognizedhissmallmilitiawasalmostcompletelyuselessandsotherewasno
harminlettingherlooseonthem.Artemisiawonthesupport
ofthemilitia,andridherselfoftheofficerswhooutofnaturalself-interestopposedher,bydividingthesoldiersintwoandofferingtofightthreewargames.Thenshebettheofficersthreethousanddollarsshewouldwinallthree.Iftheylosttheyweretoresign.Shehadthree
thousandleftinherdowry(Danielhadgivenitbacktoherontheirweddingday)andsheusedathousandofittobribethemilitianowunderhercommandandwho,untilshepaidthemsomuchmoney,werenotveryhappyaboutiteither.Shehadtwoandahalfthousandmen,mostlyfarmersandtheirhiredworkersandanassortmentofbrewers,bakers
andmetalworkers.Shehadthreemonths.Atfirstthemenworked
hardbecausetheywerepaidto–butonlyonresults.Eachweekthemenwerepaidmorebutonlyiftheyranthelengthofthisfieldfaster,orcarriedaheavyweightforlonger.Butshealsodividedthemupintogroupswithdifferentfierce-soundingnamesanddressedtheminwaistcoatsof
differentcolours–thoughwiselynotthebabyblueorceruleanofherchildhooddolls.Anyonewhofailedtoimprovewasstrippedoftheirwaistcoatpubliclyandthrownout.Butiftheysubsequentlypassedthetestthey’dfailed,andbetteredit,they’dbereinstated.Shemademistakes–butmoneyandanapologyseemedtocureeverything.Whenthethreemonthswere
up,thegamesbegan.Theywereroughenough,thoughwithpaddedsticksinsteadofswordsandspears,andthereweremanyinjuries.Shewonallthreeeasilybecauseofhertalentbutalsobecauseheropponentsweremadeupofintelligentofficerswhowerecomplacentandcomplacentofficerswhowerestupid.Sheretainedsomeoftheformerandbeganafurtherseriesof
roughgamestocorrecthermistakes–whichsheknewweremany.Sheorderedbooksbygreatauthoritiesontheartofwarfromeverywherepossible–andfoundmostofthemmaddeninglyvaguewhenitcametowhatshewantedtoknow:thedetailsofhowsomethingwasactuallydone.Onebombasticauthorityafteranotherwouldtellof,say,the
nightmarchbyGeneralAthathaddaringlyoutflankedandsurprisedGeneralB–butthedetailsofhowyoumovedathousandmenoverrocky,lousypathswithoutlightsandwithoutthemenbreakingtheirlegsorfallingovertheedgeofacliff–thethingsyouactuallyneededtoknow–werenearlyalwaysabsent.Whatwasleftwerejuststoriesforchildrenand
daydreamers.‘Istilldon’tunderstand,’
Calesaid,laughing,‘howyougottobesogood.I’vebeentaughttodonothingelsemywholelife.’‘PerhapsI’mmoretalented
andcleverthanyou.’‘Idoubtit,’hesaid.‘I’ve
nevermetanyonemoretalentedthanme.’Sheburstoutlaughing.‘Idon’tknowwhat’sso
funny,’hesaid,smiling.‘Youare.I’mnotsurprised
nobodylikesyou.’‘Somepeoplelikeme.But
notmany,it’strue,’headmitted.‘Sohowdidyoudoit?’‘Iplayed.’‘Allchildrendothat.Even
weusedtoplay.’‘Iplayedadifferentway
fromeveryoneelse.’‘Nowwho’sboasting?’
‘I’mnotboasting.It’strue.’‘Goonthen.’‘Iwatchedotherchildren
playingevenwhenIwasverysmall–alltheyeverdidwasmakethingscomeoutthewaytheywantedthemto.Butthingsneverdo–IknewthatevenwhenIwasfive.SoItookanoldpackofmymother’scardsandIusedtowritethingsonthem–your
bestgeneralfallsoffhishorseandbreakshisneck,aspystealsyourplanofattack,thundermakesyourenemies’horsesstampede,yousuddenlygoblind.’Calelaughedagain.‘Itake
itback.Youareclevererthanme.’‘It’snotaquestionofbeing
clever.Nothing’slostonme,that’sall.Justlikeeveryone,IseewhatIwanttosee–only
Iknowthat’swhatI’mlike,sosometimesIcanmakemyselfseethingsastheyare.Onlysometimes,though.Thatwouldbereallyclever–seeingthingsastheyareallthetime.’Butshewaswrongabout
that,astimewouldtell.Andsowhathappenedwas
everythingyouwouldexpect.HetoldherabouttheSanctuaryandhislifethere
(noteverything,ofcourse,somethingsarebetterleftunsaid)andshewasclosetotearshearinghimtalkaboutthethingsheexperiencedthere,whichwas,ofcourse,verysatisfactorytoCale.Theytalkedandwalkedandkissed–somethingthattohersurprisehewaspuzzlinggoodat.Tothegreatscandalofherservants,shebroughthimtothesmallhouseshe
hadrentednotfarfromBoundaryParkand–alittleguiltily,thoughnottoomuch–spentseveralhoursmakingashamelessbeastofherselfwithheryounglover’sbody.Shewasawareatsomelevelthathewasverymuchmorefamiliarwithhowtotouchherthanhisageandhistorywouldhavesuggested.Hersuspicionsweremovedtotheplacewhereall
uncomfortablesuspicionsgo–tothebackofhermind.Theretheyjoinedallherotheranxietiesandshames,includingtheonewhichshewasmostguiltyabout,thatshewasdeeplyexcitedbyCale’scertaintythattherewouldbenoagreementthatkepttheRedeemersontheothersideoftheMississippiinexchangeformoneyandmoreconcessionsofterritory.
Theywerecomingandnothingwouldstopthemexceptforce.Therealizationthatshewantedawarappalledherbecausesheknewperfectlywellthatitwouldbringterriblepainandsufferingeverywhere,especiallytothepeopleshehadbuiltherprivatearmytoprotect.Althoughtheyturnedouttobeatoughcollection,thefarmersandcarpenters
whohadmadeuphermilitiawereinterestedincowsandbarleynotwar.Thethingwhichshewasmosttalentedat,mostexcitedby,mostpassionateaboutwasanexerciseinbloodandsuffering,thoughitwasn’tthisthatdrewhertofightingbutthedelightshefeltintryingtocontroltheuncontrollable.Therearesomemenandatleastone
womanforwhomlifeismeaninglessunlessthegreatestprizeofall,lifeitself,isatstake.Whatwasthepointofchess,sheusedtocomplaintoherhusbandwhenhewasalive?Heusedtospendhoursplayingandclaimedthatitwasagamesofulloftrapsandsubtletiesitmirroredthedeepestandmostcomplexlevelsofthehumanmind.
‘Bollocks!’shehadsaidtohim.ShehadheardthisexpressionjustthatSundayonthetraininggroundandwasnotcompletelyawareofthestrengthofitsvulgarity.BollockswasnotawordthataMargravineoughttousetoaMargraveandcertainlynotaboutchess.Eye-widening,startledatheroutburst,hepretendedonlypoliteuncertainty.
‘Yourexquisitereasons,mydear?’‘Idon’thaveanyexquisite
reasons.It’sjustthatchesshasrulesandlifedoesn’thaverules.Youcan’tburnyouropponent’sbishop,youcan’tstabhimeither,orpourabucketofwaterovertheboardorplaywhenyouhaven’teatenforthreedays.Howevercleveryouhavetobetoplayit,it’sjustastupid
game.Tofightabattle,’shesaid,‘needsamindahundredtimesbetterthananystupidgame.’Shewassorudebecauseshefeltguiltyaboutwantingtogotowar.Herhusbandhadthought
aboutthisforamoment.‘Letushope,mydear,thatatsometimeinthefutureyougetyourchancetobutcherasmanyofourfriendsandneighboursaswillsatisfy
yourambition.’Shedidn’ttalktohimfor
threedays–butunusuallyhewasnottheonetogivein.Itwasasecretreliefthat,
whenthetimecametoplaywithrealdeathanddestruction,shehadabsolutelynochoicebuttodotheonethingthatinalltheworldshemostwantedto.TheextremenatureoftheRedeemersclearedher
conscience.Atthewarconferencein
SpanishLeeds(Calewasasdismissiveofitashewasdesperatetobethere),thereemergedasuddendemandfordecisiveactionfromtheKinghimself.Itwasintolerable,hesaid,thatsomuchhadbeenlosttotheRedeemersandhewouldnotendureitandneitherwouldhispeople,andhesincerelybelievedhis
allieswouldtakethesameview.Hedidnotsincerely
believeanythingofthekind.Itisatruth,declaredVipondlater,thatthesincerityofanythingsaidaloudshouldbedividedbythenumberofpeoplelisteningtoit.Likenearlyallkings,inanotherworldZogwouldhavebeenaninadequatecattlefarmer,abetterthanaveragegrowerof
turnipsoramediocrebutcher.Thesamewouldbetrueformanyofthegreatandthegoodwhosurroundedhim.Thisiswhythebestpictureoftheworldisasalunaticasylum.‘Ifyouonlyknew,’IdrisPukkewasfondofsayingtoCale,‘withhowmuchstupiditytheworldisrun.’
Thelastweheardofthegreat
stormabovetheforestsofBrazilithadpassedtheheightofitsunimaginablepowerbymerelyafraction.Now,monthslater,ithasdispersedthatpoweracrossfivethousandmilesinalldirectionstothenorthandsouthandeastandwest.DescendingfromthewarmskiesabovetheAleatoireBridgeovertheRiverImprevu,agreattributaryof
theMississippi,itapproachedalargebuddleia,aspurpleasthehatofanAntagonistbishop,coveredinbutterfliesfeedingonitsnectar.AsittouchedthebushthelastbreathofwindofthegreatBrazilianstormfinallydied–butnotbeforeiteversoslightlyliftedthewingsofoneofthebutterflies,causingittotaketotheair.Themovementofthelong-tailed
bluejustcaughttheeyeofapassingswallowwhodippedand,inafractionofasecond,tookitinitsbeak,startlingthemassofotherbutterflieswhotooktotheairinhundredslikeaburstingcloudandfrightenedapassinghorsepullingawagonbadlyloadedwithrocksfortherepairofawall.Thehorsereared,turningthecartonitssideandpitching
therocksintotheRiverImprevubelow.Someagriculturallanguage
followedthisaccident,andakickfortheunfortunatehorse,butonlysomerockswerelostandnotworththeeffortofgettingthemout.Sothewheelwasputbackonthewagon,thehorsegivenanotherkick,andthatwasthat.Intheriverbelow,thenot
especiallylargepileofstonescausedthecurrenttoflowmorequicklyrounditssidesandpointedthefasterstreamdirectlyattherootsofoneoftheoldestandlargestoaktreesonthebanksofthegreattributary.
Atthesamemoment,ZogwasproposingthatanarmyofthebestSwisstroopsandthoseofitsalliesshouldbe
sentthroughtheSchallenbergPasstoengagetheRedeemerarmyontheplainsoftheMittelland.‘Wecandonothingless.InputtingthisplanforwardIrededicatemyselftotheserviceofthisgreatcountryandthisgreatalliance.’ThespeakerthankedtheKingandtearfullystated,‘Youhavebecomeforusall,yourMajesty,akaleidoscopeking
ofourkaleidoscopealliance.’Therewasloudapplause.Thespeakerthenthrewthe
King’splanopenfordiscussiontotheAxismembersgathered–whichistosaythathethrewtheKing’splanopentothemfortheiragreement,aconsentthathadalreadybeenguaranteedbypersuasionandthreatsfromBoseIkard,despitethefactthathewas
profoundlyopposedtodoinganythingofthekind.GiventhathehadnotpersuadedtheKingagainstafightherealizedthathemustmakeupfordisagreeingwithhimbynowbeingdeeplyenthusiasticinitsfavour.Hehadneglected,however,totalktoArtemisia,becausehedidn’tconsiderherimportantenough.Shelistenedfortwentyminutestovarious
speechesinresponse,allsupportingtheKingandallprettymuchthesame.Shetriedcatchingtheeyeofthespeakerofthemeetingbutherefusedtorecognizeher.Intheendshesimplystoodup,asoneoftheprearrangedspeechesofsupportended,andstartedtalking.‘WithallrespecttoHis
Majesty,whileIunderstandhisimpatiencetoengagethe
Redeemers,whatyousuggestistoohazardous.TheonlyforcethatstoppedtheRedeemersfromwalkingintothisroomhasnotbeenanyarmybuttheexistenceoftheMississippi.Butforamileofwaterwewouldnotbetalkingtogethernow.’Thissimpleand
straightforwardtruthwasthecauseofhugeandvocalresentment:‘Army’;‘Noble
traditions’;‘Heroism’;‘Bravelads’;‘Ourheroes’;‘Courage’;‘Secondtonone’.‘I’mnotquestioningthe
courageofanyone,’sheshoutedabovetheracketofobjections.‘ButtheRedeemersarestuckwheretheyareinthenorthuntilearlynextyear.Theymustbuildanuncountablenumberofboatsandtrainenoughshorementogetthemacross
theriver.IcantellyoubecauseIknowthatit’stheworkofyearstoknowhowtonavigatethecurrentsoftheMississippi.Now’sthetimetoreconstructwhat’sleftofthearmiesthatmadeitacross.’Areminderhere,alittletoosubtle,thatsomanywerestillalivebecauseofher.‘Wemustsendthebestofthetroopswehavenorthtoretrainthetroopsthatwere
rescuedandusethegreatestallywehave–thesizeandcurrentsoftheMississippi.’Enormoushowlsofprotest
wentupatthisandthespeakerhadtoworkhimselfupintoafurytobringthemeetingtoorder.‘WethanktheMargravine
ofHalicarnassusforherforthrightviewsbutsheunderstandablymaynotknowthatitisnotdoneinthisplace
tospeakslightinglyofthebraveheroeswhohavemadetheultimatesacrificeforthesafetyofothers.’‘Hear!Hear!Hear!Hear!
Hear!’Andthatwasthat.
‘Ifyouwillforgivemeforbeingblunt,Margravine,’saidIkard,halfanhourlaterinhisoffice,‘butyouhavebehavedlikeacompletetwerp.’
‘I’mafraidI’mnotfamiliarwiththeterm.Notacompliment,Is’pose.’‘No,it’snot.Whateverthe
meritsofyourviews–andIknowthereareothersofreputationwhoagreewithyou–youmadeanychanceofinfluencingmattersimpossiblewithyourridiculousdefiance.’Shemadeabriefsound
withhertongueagainsther
frontteeth.‘DoItakeitthatsignals
disagreement?’saidIkard.‘Youdidn’tbotherasking
myopinionbefore,whatpossiblereasoncouldIhavetobelieveyou’dhavelistenedifI’dkeptmymouthshut?’‘TheKing,’liedthe
Chancellor,‘hasuntilnowspokenofyouwithrespectandadmiration.Nowyouhanginhisfavourlikean
icicleonaDutchman’sbeard.’‘So,’shesaid,‘Imustbe
likeCassandra,doomedalwaystotellthetruthbutnevertobebelieved.’‘Youflatteryourself,
Margravine.IhavealwaysunderstoodthestoryaboutCassandratodemonstratenotthatshewassowisebutthatshewassofoolish:there’snopointintellingpeoplethe
truthwhenthere’snochanceofthemhearing.Youmustwaituntilthey’reready.That’sthemoralofthestory.Takeitfromsomeonewhoknows.Thecourseyousuggested,whateveritsmeritsmilitarily,isineverywaysociallyandpoliticallyimpossible.Thearmywillnotstandforsuchabuse,thearistocracywillnotendureit,andthepeoplewhosesons
andhusbandsdiedintheirthousandswillneitherstandforitnorendureit.Youmayknowsomethingaboutwarbutyouknownothingaboutpolitics.Somethingmustbedone.’Thenshewasdismissed.It
wastenminutesbeforeshethoughtofastrongreply–althoughtheyoungmanshetoldaboutherdressing-downdidn’thavetoknowthat.
‘Sowhatdidyousay?’askedCale.‘Isaid,“Unfortunatelyfor
you,Chancellor,thefactsdon’tgiveadamnaboutpolitics.”’Helaughed.‘Agoodshout,
that.’Shewasalittleashamedbutnottoomuch.ForCaleandArtemisia,
waitingforthepigtopassthroughthepythonwasinsomewaysafrustrating
experienceandinotherwaysdelightful.Greateventsthattheywantedtoinfluenceweretakingplacewithoutthembuttheyhadendlesshoursforeachother,andthoughtherewasmoretalkingthanthegivingofpleasure,therewasnotverymuchmore.IftheAxisfailed(andwhatwastostopthem?)hecouldsoonbeontopofabonfirebigenoughtobeseenalltheway
tothemoon.Ontheotherhand,neitherVagueHenrinorKleistwerewellenoughtomakeitoutoverthemountains.Besides,hewasusedtowaitingfortheunspeakablygrim,usedtoitallhislife;butthepleasureofbeingwiththewomanasleepnexttohimwasararethingandheknewit.Nowwasthetimeforgirlsandcake.Therewasonewayin
whichhewasinvolvedinthenewplantoattacktheRedeemers.HewassworntosecrecybyVipond,whoriskedagreatdealbyshowinghimacopyoftheplansdrawnupbyConnMaterazzifortheadvancethroughtheSchallenbergandtheattackontheRedeemers.ItwasatrustCaleimmediatelybetrayedbydiscussingwhathe’dbeen
showningreatdetailwithArtemisia.Cale’sfeelingsongoing
throughtheplanwereoddlymixed.Itwasnotatallbad.InConn’spositionhewouldnothavedonemuchdifferent.Itturnedouthewasn’tjustanover-privileged,chinlesswonderafterall.ApparentlyhehadexpressedsympathywithArtemisia’sdismissaloftheKing’sidea(irritatingly
showingevenmoregoodsense)butCalerealizedConnhadnochoicebuttoattackifhewantedtostayasCommanderinChief,andhe’dmadeaprettygoodfistofcomingupwithadecentplan.Butitwasstilltoorisky.‘Thetroublewithdecisive
battles,’saidIdrisPukke,notforthefirsttime,‘isthattheydecidethings.’‘Ifyougetthechance,’
saidCale,‘youmightwanttosuggesthecutsoutacoupleofthousandextramentostayintheSchallenberg,justincaseitallgoesabitporcupine.Ifhelosesthat’sallthere’llbebetweentheRedeemersandusandalotofrunningaboutandscreaming.’Later,onhiswaybackto
Artemisia,hestoppedtoseeArbell’sbrother,Simon.It
wasavisithe’dbeenavoiding,notforlackofaffection–he’drescuedtheboyfromtheisolationandcontemptofbeingunabletohearorspeak–butbecausehebothfearedand–horribly,hatefully–desperatelydesiredtoseehissister.Hespentseveralhours
talkingtoSimonthroughhisreluctantanddisagreeableaide,Koolhaus.Koolhaushad
beenalow-rankingcivilservantinrank-obsessedMemphis,notbecausehelackedability,butbecausehisfatherwasamerdapis,anuntouchablewhocarriedawaytheexcrementandurinefromthepalacesoftheMaterazzi.Koolhauswastwopartsofresentmenttothreepartsofintelligence.ItwasKoolhauswho,inamatterofdays,haddevisedan
expressivelanguageoutoftheshortlistofsignsgiventohimbyCale,whichwasbasedonthesimplesigningsystemtheRedeemersusedtodirectanattackwhensilencewasrequired.CaleandVagueHenrihaddevelopeditalittleinordertomakeoffensiveremarksaboutthemonksaroundthemduringthebrain-destroyinglyboringthreehourhighmassesatthe
Sanctuary‘I’dliketoborrow
Koolhausforanhourorsoaday.’Theattempttobend
Koolhausoutofshapebysuggestinghewassomesortofusefulhouseholditemwasdeliberate.AnnoyingKoolhauswassomethingthathadalwaysdelightedthethreeboys(‘Ifyouwereanegg,Koolhaus,wouldyou
ratherbefriedorboiled?’).Theycouldhavebeenfriendsandallies–andshouldhavebeen–buttheywerenot.That’sboysforyou.Simoncouldseethathis
interpreterwasannoyed–itdidn’ttakemuch.Theirmasterandservantrelationshipwasawkward,thebalanceofpowershiftingbetweenSimon’sdependencyonhimtomakecontactwith
theworld–whichheoftenresented–andKoolhaus’sentirelyjustifiedfeelingthathewasmeantforgreaterthingsthanbeingatalkingpuppet.AnoffertopayKoolhausmoremoneyusuallymollifiedhim,butonlytemporarily.‘Tomorrowatsix,then,’
saidCale,andmadehiswaythroughthelow-ceilingedcorridorswherehehadso
disgracedhimselfduringhislastuninvitedvisit.Whathideouslymixedfeelingstwistedinhissoul;dreadandhope,hopeanddread.Then–andhemighthavemadethesamevisitfiftytimesandtheywouldhavenevermet–shewasinfrontofhim,havingdecidedtotakehersontoseeSimon,whodelightedinthebabybecausehecouldneitherfearSimonnorpityhim.
Cale’sheartlurchedinhischestasifitwouldtearitselffromhisbody.Foramomenttheystaredateachother–theboilingseaoffCapeWrathwasnothingtoit.Notloveorhatebutsomebrayingmuleofanemotion,uglyandraucouslyalive.Thebabywavedhishandabouthappilythensuddenlyslappedhismouthagainsthismother’scheekandbeganmakingloud
slurpingnoises.‘Isthatgoodforhim?’
Calesaid.‘Youmightbecatching.’‘Haveyoucometo
threatenusagain?’Shewasalsoshockedatthechangeinhim,gauntwherehewasoncemuscular,withthedarkcirclesaroundhiseyesthatnogoodnight’ssleepwouldeverwipeaway.‘Youremembereverysin
ofminethatwasjustwordsandforgeteverythingIdidtokeepyousafeatanycost.You’restillalivebecauseofme–nowthedogsbarkatmeinthestreetbecauseofyou.’Ah,self-pityandblame,a
combinationtowintheheartofanywoman.Buthecouldn’thelphimself.‘Ablblabablbaddlede
dah,’saidthebaby,nearlypokinghismotherintheeye.
‘Shshshsh.’Shesettledhimonherhipandstartedtoswingfromsidetoside.‘Iftherewasanygoodin
you,you’dleaveusalonenow.’‘Heseemshappyenough.’‘That’sbecausehe’sa
babyandwouldplaywithasnakeifIlethim.’‘Isthatsupposedtobeme
–that’swhatIamtoyou?’‘You’refrighteningme–
letmego.’Buthecouldn’t.Hecould
feelthepointlessnessoftalkingtoherbuttherewasnowaytostop.Partofhimwantedtosayhewassorryandpartofhimwasfuriouswithhimselfforfeelingso.Therewasnothingtobesorryfor–hissouldemandedthatshethrowherselftothefloorand,weeping,beghiscompletelyundeserved
forgiveness.Butnoteventhatwouldhavebeenenough,shewouldhaveneededtospendtherestofherlifeonherkneestostophisheartfromscaldinghimaboutwhatshe’ddone.Butnoteventhat.‘Themanyousoldmeto
toldmehe’dalreadyboughtmeoncebefore–forsixpence.’‘Thenyourpricehasrisen,
hasn’tit?’
Angryandguilty,andthereforeangrier,itwasunwisetosaysomethinglikethattohim.ButlikeCaleshehadatasteforthelastword.Asmuchasherpresencewaspoisontohimhecouldn’tbeartoseehergo.Buthecouldn’tthinkofanythingtosay.Shepushedpast,thebabyonthefarside,awayfromhim.Intohischestsomethingseeped:oilof
19
Historyteachesusthatthereareapproximatelytwiceasmanytriumphantmilitaryexitsfromgreatcitiesastherearetriumphantreturns.TheexodusfromSpanishLeedswasgreaterthanmostin
termsoftrumpets,rowsofwell-drilledtroops,cheeringcrowdsandemotionalyoungwomenshoutinggoodbyestotheirheart-burstinglyproudmen.Andthentherewerethehorses–thepowerandglory,thehead-brassesandthecoloursofblueandyellowandred–andthegorgeousmenridingthem.Therewerechildrenpresentwhowouldrememberthesplendourand
thenoiseofsteelonstoneandthecheersuntilthedaytheydied.Twentyminutesoutsidethe
city,offcamethearmourandmostofthehorsesweresentbacktotheirstables.Notonlydidtheyconsumefodderthewayabeareatsbuns,butConnMaterazziwouldnotbeallowingtheRedeemerarcherstodestroyacavalrychargefromthreehundred
yardsawayasthey’ddoneatSilburyHill.Thecavalryweremostlyusefulforgatheringinformationbeforeabattleandrunningawayafterwardsifitallwentwrong.EventhoughConn’svanity
andpridehadlargelygivenwaytoanimpressivelymaturegoodjudgementhestillhadablindspot,understandablyenough,when
itcametoThomasCale.AlthoughCalehadnointentionoffightinginabattlewherehewasn’tincontrol,hewasfuriouswhenhewastoldthathewouldn’tbeallowedtobringthePurgatorsanywherenearthearmy.EvenArtemisia,guiltybyassociation,wasrefusedapartonthegroundsthathertroopswereirregularandnotsuitedtoapitchedbattle.She
wouldbeallowed,however,toleadthesixtyorsoreconnaissanceriderswhohadhelpedherslowtheRedeemermovementthroughHalicarnassus.ArtemisiahadletCalesulkforseveraldaysthensuggestedhecomewithher,pointingoutthathewouldn’tbeabletofightbuthemightbeabletowatch.‘I’mnotsureifIcan,’he
said.‘Idon’tknowifIhave
thestrengthevenforwatching.’Hehadnottoldheranythinglikethewholestoryofhisillnessbutitwastooobviousthatsomethingwasseriouslywrongwithhimnottogivesomeexplanation.Heclaimedhewassufferingfrombad-airdiseasecaughtintheScablands.Thesymptomswerewellknowntobevagueandrecurring.Whyshouldn’tshebelieve
him?‘Tryitforafewdays.You
canalwayscomeback.’
SixdaysintothemarchtotheborderthenewsreachedConnthataRedeemerarmyofaroundthirty-fivethousandwasheadingtotheMittellandintwopartsoftwenty-fiveandtenthousandrespectively,thelattercomingthroughtheVaud,
probablyinanattempttotakeConn’sarmyfrombehind.Unfortunately,butnotunusually,someofthisinformationwaswrong.TheRedeemerarmyunder
SantosHallhad,onbalance,decidedtomoveforwardonlytotakethehighgroundoutsidethevillageofBexandagainonbalancetodividethearmysothattheycouldmovemorequicklytodoso.
Shiftingthirty-fivethousandmenwithalltheircartsandbaggagecouldeasilyleadtoaqueuetwomileswideandtwentymilesback.ThespeedneededtoreachthebestgroundoutsideBexwasthepriorityhere.ButbythetimetheRedeemersarrivedadelightedConnwassolidlyplacedinfrontofBex,protectedonhisleftbytheRiverGarandtotherightby
adensewood,fulloflaceratingbriarsthickasfingersandwince-sharpthornsknownasdog’steeth.ThisgaveConnaspaceaboutamilewideintowhichtofitthirty-twothousandmen.Justbeforenightfall,theRedeemersstartedtosetupinapositiontheyglumlyrealizedwasverymuchsecondbest.Betweenthetwoarmieswasaslope,much
shallowerdowntheRedeemerfrontandmuchsteeperuptotheSwissarmy.Connhadwonthefirstbattle:hehadcontrolofthesteeperslopeandhehadarchersalmostasgoodastheRedeemers,andmoreofthem.Thebattletomorrowwouldstartwithaforty-minuteexchangebetweenthetwo.Inthattimemoretensofthousandsofarrowswouldbe
exchanged,arrivingatonehundredandfiftymilesanhour,firedintopackedranks.Oneofthesideswouldnotbeabletoenduresuchakillingsquallandwouldbeforcedtoattack.Thesidethatdidsowouldprobablylosethebattle,defencebeingfareasierthanattack.OddsagainsttheRedeemersweremuchworsebecausetheyhadtoadvanceupasteepslope
underfireandwithfewermenwhentheygottothetopbecauseofthenumbersofthedyinganddead.MorealarmingthanthiswasthatthetenthousandtroopsSantosHallhadmovedseparatelyfromhismainarmyinordertooutflanktheAxishadgotlostandwerenowblunderingaroundtheSwisscountryside.Duringthenightsomething
changedthatmightmakethesituationbetterfortheRedeemersorverymuchworse,althoughitwasnothingeithersidecoulddoanythingabout.Itwasafeatureofthelocalclimatethatbecauseoftheeffectofthenearbymountainstheweathercouldchangedramatically.Theunusuallyhotsunthatdayemergedoutofaclearsky,whichat
nightfallallowedtheheattoescapeupwardsinminutes.Inturn,coldairoffthemountainsbeganflowingintothevalleysothatthetemperaturedroppedquicklytofreezinginafewhoursandadeepfrostcoveredeverything.Bytwoo’clockinthemorningthegroundwaslikeiron.Butthenthewindpickedup.Itblewoverthebattlefieldfirstonewaythen
theother,andthenbackagain.ConnandLittleFauconberg,notmuchmorethanfivefoottwo,stoodinthefreezingcoldatthetopofthehilloutsideBexandlookedovertheirownineffectivefiresattheequallyineffectivefiresoftheRedeemers,whodidn’tevenhavetheshelterofthewoodtoprotectthemfromthecoldwind.
‘Oddifthewindsettlesit,’saidConn.‘There’snowtyoucould
doaboutit.Butitmightdropaltogethernoworblowintheirfaceandwe’dbeevenbetteroff.’Ahorseintelligencer
arrivedandranuptothetwomen,slippingontheicygroundandlandingheavilyonhispoorarse.Embarrassedandinpain,hegottohisfeet.
‘WesightedtherestoftheRedeemersatthefarendoftheVaud,headingthewrongway.They’veturnedforusnowbuttheywon’tbeherebeforemid-afternoon.’‘Shouldwedivideandgo
tomeetthem?’saidFauconberg.‘Wedon’tneedtostopthem,justslowthemdown.Threethousandcouldkeepthemawaylongpastthembeingofanyusehere.’
Connthoughtaboutit.‘IsthatCaleoikincamp?’
Fauconbergwenton.‘WecouldsendhimofftosqueezethematBagpuize–they’vegottocomethatway.Hisgloriousdeathwouldbejollyusefulallround.’‘He’snothere.It’sadamn
goodidea,Fauconberg,butI’mgoingtostick.Tripletheintelligencers–Iwanttoknoweverymiletheymake
towardsus.WecansendVennegororWallerifthingsgoallrighthere.’‘Ifthewindsettlesgoing
downfromustowardsthem,we’llwin.’‘Andwhatifitdoesn’t?’
saidConn.Connwasrighttoask.By
fiveinthemorningthewindwasdrivingconstantlyintotheirfaceslikeablastfromafurnaceforforgingice.All
theadvantageswonbyConn’sspeedandgraspwereblownawayinacoldwindfromtheworstcoldsnapinthirtyyears.‘Theywon’twait,’said
LittleFauconberg.‘Ifthewindcanchangeonceitcanchangetwice.They’lltaketheadvantagewhiletheycan.Bloodybollocksanddamnourluck!’Therewasnothinghe
couldsaytoimproveonFauconberg’sassessmentsoConnjustorderedthemassedranksupintoline.Withthewindsobitterheorderedthemenatthefronttoswapwiththemenbehind,sevendeep,everytenminutes.Whatmaysoundatrickymanoeuvrewaseasyenough:foralltheromanticheroicsoftalltalesofwarfareinthepenny-dreadfulsofGenevaand
JohannesburgandSpanishLeeds,themanneverlivedwhocouldfightfortenorfiveoreventwohoursatastretch.Menwereinrankssothattheycouldreplacethemeninfrontnotjustiftheydiedorwerewounded,butmostlytogivethemabreatherandtobegivenoneintheirturn.Dependingoncircumstancesamaninpitchedbattlemightfightfor
nomorethantenminutesineveryhour.Now,liketheemperorpenguinsofthenorthernpole,theyshuffledsidetosideintothenumbingsleet.LittleFauconbergwas
right.SantosHallorderedhisarchersforward.SohardwasthegroundtheycouldnotgrabevenapinchofearthtoeattomakeitcleartoGodthattheywerereadytobe
buriedforhissake.ThisputmanyRedeemersintoastateofhysteria,soterrifiedweretheyofdyinginastateofsinyethardlyterrifiedatallofdeathitself.AnexasperatedSantosHallhadtosendnon-militantpriestsupanddowntheranksissuingpardons,somethingthattooktenminutes.Amorepracticalmatterofconcernwasthattheearthwassohardthey
couldn’tsticktheirarrowsintothegroundforeaseofuse.Onceforgivenessforsins
ofomissionhadcalmedthemdown,theRedeemerarchersmovedforwardintopositiontoshoot.Astheydidsotheybegantocallouttotheirenemies.‘Baaaa!Baaaa!Baaaa!
Baaaa!Thesleetwindblewthesoundacrossthefour
hundredyardsthatseparatedthem.‘Isn’tthatsheep?’asked
LittleFauconberg.‘Whyaretheymakingthesoundofsheep?’‘Baaaa!Baaaa!Baaaa!’
Thecallcamelouderandsofterwiththerhythmofthewind.‘They’resayingwe’re
lambstotheslaughter,’saidConn.
‘Arethey?’saidFauconberg.‘Handoutsprigsofminttothemenandwhenwecometogetherwe’llshoveituptheirarse.’‘Shouldn’tthatbearses,
Fauconberg?’saidoneoftheknights-in-armsstandingjustbehind.‘Shutyourgob,Rutland,or
I’lluseyoutoshowthemenhowit’sdone.’Muchlaughteratthis.
‘Ifyoumustshovesomethingupmybottom,’saidRutland,‘I’dpreferanicehotpepper.Itmighthaveawarmingeffectinthisfuckingwind.’Thenitbeganandinafew
secondsthefirststageofthebattlewaslost.ThewindagainstthemblewwithsomuchpowerthattheSwissarrowslostfiftyyardsinrangeandthoseoftheir
enemygainedthefiftythey’dlost.Theymightjustaswellhaveusedharshwords.Ithardlymatteredthatthethicksleetblindedthemandtheykeptlosingsightoftheiropponents,nowdim,nowcompletelyobscuredbythedrivingmixtureofsnowandfreezingrain,becauseeverythingtheyshotfellshort.ButthefirstvolleyfromtheRedeemersno
longerfellfromtheskybutwasdrivenbythewindwithmaliceintokneeandchest,mouthandnoseatsuchspeednoteventhehighestqualityofsteelcoulddefendagainstafullstrike.Rutland,piercedthroughtheear,nolongerworriedaboutthecold.Thereweretenthousand
Redeemerarchersshooting,atalessthanusualrateofaboutsevenarrowsinevery
minutebecauseofthehardground.Thethirty-twothousandSwissonthesteeperhillwerehitbynearlyseventythousandarrowseverysixtyseconds,eachweighingaquarterofapoundand,withthewindbehindeachone,travellingnearlyahundredyardseverysecond.TherewasnothingcomingbackattheRedeemerstofrightenorharmthem.After
twentyminutesmorethanamillionarrowslandedonaspacehalfamilewideandtenyardsdeep.Inall,onehundredandfifty-eighttonsofmalignantrainpissingitdownonmen,noneofthemwithshieldsandmorethanhalfofthemwithnomorearmourthanaheavyjacketwithmetaldiscssownintoit.Toretreatoutofrangewouldhavemeantrout–anarmy
cannotturnitsbackandlive–andtostaywasimpossible,buttoadvancemadeforaprobabledefeat.‘We’vetoattack!’shouted
Fauconbergoverthehideousrattleofirononsteel.PINGAPINGAPINGAPINGAPINGAPINGAPINGAPING!Theracketmergingwithscreamsofpainandtheroaringshoutsofthesergeantstryingtostoptheirmenfromrunningaway.Few
diewellorquicklyonabattlefield.Shockedandmore
astonishedbythecollapseofhiscleverandwonderfullyexecutedplans,ConnlookedatFauconberg.‘Yes,Iagree.’Despitehimself,Fauconberg,fifty-fiveyearsoldandbad-tempered,asdismissiveasanythirty-yearmercenary,wasimpressedbyConn:Notbad,sonny,inashit-storm
likethis.Howmanyofushavea
finesthour?Themomentwheneverythingyouweremadefor,everythingyouhavebecome,arrives;thegreateventthatopensyouupandcallsout,‘Thisisforyou.’Withhiscarefullylaidplansinwind-drivenruin,ConnMaterazzigatheredhimselfupandcaughtfire.Hebellowedtheorderto
advanceanditstoneofpowerandconvictionwaspickedupbyeachofthesergeantsintheirturnasitechoeddowntheline.Thegreatarmyafflictedbythesquallofsharpsmovedforwardtocometogrips.Fourhundredyardswilltakeanarmymovingwithcaretokeepitsshapemorethanthreeminutes–anageunderthearrowspeltingintofeetand
kneesandmouthsandthroats.ButnowthemurderofarrowshadtoendbecausetheSwisswereclosing.TheRedeemerarchershadtoleaveoffandretreatbehindtheinfantrystandingstillbehindthemandwhowouldnowhavetobarthewayoftheadvancingSwisshand-to-hand.Thearrowsstoppedfallinglikeasuddensquallsuddenlyover.Buttherealwindgrewmore
blusteryastheyadvanced,thesleetmoreblinding.Asbothsidesmovedinthestorm,theslackvisibilityandtheconfusionofmovementofsomanymensoquicklymeantthattheleftsideofConn’sattackinglineandtherightsideoftheRedeemersoverlappedastheyfinallymet.Seeingtheproblem,thecentenarsandsergeantsoneithersidethrewinreserves
tosealuptheedgesandtopreventtheiropponentscomingaroundthesidestotakethemfrombehind.Buttheseunevencounterpushesbegantoskewthelineofbattlesothatitslowlybegantorotateagainsttheclock.Atnearlysixfootfour,in
armourthatcostthepriceofthebetterkindofmanorhouse,Connwasthemanobservedbyallobservers,
AxisandRedeemeralike.Hewasthelatter’starget,too.Redeemermarksmen,acouplehidinginthetreesthatdefinedonesideofthebattlefield,firedathimrepeatedly–butevenwhentheyhittheirmanthefortunelavishedonhissuitoflightsshowedthatinarmouryougetwhatyoupayfor.Thearrowspingedharmlesslyawayashemovedacrossthe
backoftheline,shoutingandmovingtothefront.Likesometoweringelegantinsect,silverandgold,hestabbed,crushedandpunchedhisopponents,whosearmourheseemedtoopenupasifitwasmadeoftin.Therewerefewswordshere–Connpreferredthehideouspoleaxeforfightinginthispress,mentryingtogetateachotherwithhardlyacoupleoffeetto
eitherside.Thepoleaxewasathug’s
weaponusedbygentlemen.Notmorethanfourfootlongitwashammer,hatchet,clubandspike.Ofalltheweaponsofkillingitwasthemosthonestbecauseanyonecouldtellwhatitwasforjustbylookingatit.Poetsmightblatheronaboutmagicswordsorholyspearsbutnoneofthemhadeveruseda
poleaxetosymbolizeanything:itwasmadetocrushandsplitanddidn’tpretendotherwise.Fortenminutesatatime
Connpunchedthelifeoutofeveryonewhocameathim:brutalitywasneversograceful,splinteringofbonesneversodeft,theburstingandcrushingoffleshneversodebonair;hisreachthegreater,hisheartthestronger,
muscleandsinewboundtogetherinhisuglyskillandbeautifulviolence.
Afewhundredyardsaway,keepingshtuminthetrees,CalewatchedConnfightinglikeanangelandenviedhimhisstrength.Butheadmiredhimtoo.Hewasquitesomethingoutthereinthebloodandchaos.‘Wehavetogo,’whispered
Artemisia,asloudasawhispercango.Shewasstandingatthefootofthetreewithtwoofherhefty-lookingsoldiers.ShehaddeclinedtoclimbupwithCale.‘What’sthematter?’he
said.‘Worriedaboutyournails?’‘TheSwissPickersare
comingtorootoutthearchers.Theywon’tknowwhoweare–it’stoo
dangerous.We’vetogo.’Hewasdownalmost
beforeshe’dfinished,breathingheavilyandsweatingnotatallhealthily.Theymovedoffbutnotquickly;toomuchinthewayofrazorbriars.Carefulofthedog’steeththornstheypushedthroughintoaclearing.Tenyardsaway,sodidothers.FourRedeemers,themarksmenthePickers
werelookingfor.Noonedidanything.Noonemoved.ForyearsBoscohadsetCaletestsinwhichhewasfacedwiththecompletelyunexpectedwithonlyafewsecondstosolvetheproblembeforetheblowtothebackofhisheadthatfollowedifhefailed.Tomakethingsworse,thepunishmentwasnotalwaysimmediate;sometimestheblowfellafewhoursoraday
oraweeklater.Thiswastoteachhimtoassessthingsbeforeheacted,nomatterhowimmediatethedanger.FourRedeemersagainstfourofthem.Artemisiawouldbenouse–thetwoguardswithherwouldbehandybutnotamatch.Andneitherwashe.Turntheirbacksandrun?Notthroughthebriars.TaketheRedeemerson?Notachance.Neverexpectrescue,Bosco
usedtosay,becauserescuenevercomes.ButitcametoCalethen,andbymeansofthegreatestcurseofhislife.ThefourRedeemerskneltdown;oneofthem–theleaderapparently–burstintotears.‘Weweretold,’hesaid,
beatinghisbreastthreetimesinterribleremorse,‘thattheLeftHandofGodwouldbewatchingoverus.ButIdid
notbelieve.Forgiveme.’FortunatelyArtemisiaand
herbodyguardsdidnotneedtobetoldtostaystill.ThefourRedeemerslookedatCalefearfullyandlovingly.Heraisedhishandanddrewacircleintheair.Itwasthesignofthenoose,agestureonlypermittedtothePope.Andnow,itseemed,alsototheincarnationoftheWrathofGod.Itwasasifhehad
openedadoorintothenextworldandthroughitpassedeternalgraceintotheheartsofthefourmen.Calesaidnothingbutwavedthemawaywithakindlysmile.Open-mouthed,struckbytheloveofGod,thefourRedeemersleft.Whenthey’dgonehe
turnedtoArtemisia.‘Perhaps,infuture,’hesaid,‘youwon’tanswerbacksooften.’
‘Theythinkyou’reaGod?’saidanastonishedArtemisia.‘That’dbeblasphemy.
TheythinkI’moneofGod’sfeelingsmadeflesh.’‘Really?’‘Disappointment.And
anger,incaseyouwerewondering.’‘That’stwofeelings.’‘Ithoughtyouweren’t
goingtoanswerback.’‘Idon’tthinkyou’re
anythingmadeflesh.Ithinkyou’rejustahorriblelittleboy.’‘Ahorriblelittleboywho
justsavedyourlife.’‘What’sheangryabout,
yourGod?’‘He’snotmyGod.He’s
angryanddisappointedbecausehesentmankindhisonlysonandtheyhangedhim.’‘Youcanseehispoint,I
suppose.’
Onthebattlefieldthenextcrisiswasapproaching,butthistimefortheRedeemers.BetweenConn’sblisteringviolencedrivingtheSwissandtheiralliesforwardashemovedupanddownthelineandFauconberg,somefiftyyardsbehind,disposingandallocating,assigningandputtingthingsright,the
Redeemerlinebegantobuckleandalsototwistevermorequicklyagainsttheclocksothatnowthefrontmovedslantwiseacrossthefield.Butthoughtheycameclosetheydidnotbreak.Notyet,atanyrate,butwithoutthetenthousandRedeemerswhohadfailedtoturnup,itwasonlyaquestionoftime.WhathadbecomeofthemissingRedeemers?They
werestilllost.Notbymuch,acoupleofmiles,butthebattlefieldwasonlythesizeoffourofthelargerfieldsthelocalsusedforwheat.AndthehideouswindthathadworkedsowonderfullytofavourtheRedeemersearliernowworkedagainstthem.Thescreamsofordersandagony,ofangerandeffort,madeforaheftydin.Onlyacoupleofmilesaway,the
arrivingRedeemerswouldnormallyhavefollowedthesoundandthatwaswhattheydid.Butthewindhadthrownthenoisetotheeastandfollowingthesoundtookthemawayfromandnottowardsthefight.NowthelineofbattlehadbeenturnedsothattheRedeemerswerebeingpushedbacktowardsthewoods,wherethethicklyplantedtreesandtherazor
briarsformedabarrierthroughwhichonlythefirstfewhundredmenwouldbeabletoescape.Fortherestitmightaswellhavebeenawallofbrick.Butbattlesbreatheoutas
wellasin.InitssixthhoursomethingintheSwissbegantofade,somethingintheRedeemerstoemerge.Inthecontinuouscirculationoffightingmen,nooneshould
fightformorethanhalfanhour.Butchangedestroystherhythmofthesidethat’sfightingwell,brings,perhaps,newimpetustothesoldiersdoingbadly.Connhadfoughttoolong;atFauconberg’sinsistenceheneededalongerrest,adrinkandsomethingtoeat.Connremovedhishelmetand,sothathecoulddrink,themetalgorgethatprotectedhisthroat.Threeofhis
friendsaroundhim,CosmoMaterazzi,OtisManfrediandValentineSforza,didthesame.ThelegendafterwardswasthattheRedeemermarksmeninthetreeshadwaitedforthischanceforhours.Butlegendsareoftenwrong,oronlypartlyright.TherewasnothingaimedatConnbycunningassassins,itwasjustbadluck,agustofafewhaphazardarrows,not
eventen.ButthreeofthemtookCosmointheface,onehitOtisintheneckandanotherstruckValentineinthebackofthehead.Friendsofalifetimeweregoneinsideaminute.WhereConnhadshone
before,henowburned.Ragestokedhistalentandfocusedittobreak,blow,smashandmaimsothateverywherehewenttheRedeemerlinefell
backandsentthemessageofstrainlikeweakeningmagicalongtheline,whichnowlostitsrhythmforasecondtimeandbegantofailagain,shiftingbacktowardsthewoodsandmurderousdefeat.Then,desperateandpanic-
stricken,thetenthousandmissingRedeemers,underthecommandofHolyGafferJudeStylites,stumbleduponthefightthatwasalmostlost
andfoundthemselvesasifbymeansofthemostcunningintelligencenotjustonthebattlefieldbutatexactlytherightplaceatexactlytherighttimetosavetheday.WhatStyliteshadbeensensiblytryingtodowastoapproachtheRedeemerswho’dbeenfightingalldaylongfromtherear,atapointwherehismencouldbeusedasreplacementsforthe
exhaustedmeninthefrontline.Instead,theirrunofaccidentsandtheanti-clockwiseturnofthebattlelinebroughtthemintothesideoftheSwissline,forcingittobendintoanL-shapetopreventbeingtakenfrombehind.NowthepressurewasontheSwissandslowlytheRedeemersbegantopushbackfromthelineoftreesandthecertaintyofdefeat.
Then,lateintheafternoon,afterwhateveritisthatcontrolsabattlefieldmovedfirstwithonesideandthentheother,theSwisslinebroke–amanslipped,perhaps,andtookdownhisneighbourashefellandheinturnhamperedanother.PerhapsaRedeemer,withonelatesurgeofstrength,pushedintothisgapandothers,seeingthespace
opening,followed–andsofromoneslipabattlewaslost,awar,acountry,thelivesofmillions.OrperhapsitwasthattheconfusedarrivaloftheRedeemers’reservewasjusttoomuchforthetiredSwissandthatfromthemomenttheystumbledintotheexactweakpointoftheAxisthematterwasdecided.Whateverthecause,in
minutestheAxislinecrumbledandthefewwhoranbecamethemany–andseeingthemrun,themanybecamethemass.Likeagreatbuildingwhosefoundationshadslowlybeendemolishedunderground,thecollapsewasgreatandsudden.Facetoface,armourtoarmour,sidebyside,it’snoteasytokillanenemy.Perhapsonlythreeorfourthousanddiedinthe
20
TheSwissandtheirallieshadonlytwolinesofescape:uptheslopetothesidefromwherethey’dattackedorbackanddownamuddyslopeintoameadowcontainedinthemeanderofarivernotmuch
morethantenfootwide,butmovingfastforbeingswollenbymountainrain.ThisglorifiedstreammightjustaswellhavebeentheMississippi.Meninarmourjumpedintoitswatersandweredraggedunderbytheweight.Theexhaustedordinarysoldiersinpaddedjacketsstruggledacrossthestreamgettingineachother’sway.Slippingandfalling,
theyfoundthewatersoakedintothehand-paintedmixofcottonandmetaldiscs,whichthenpulledthemundertoo.Meanwhile,theRedeemerswerefollowingattheirheels,slicingandcuttingandkilling.Menthey’dfoughtalldayandcouldnotharmwerenoweasiertokillthanherdsinaknacker’syard.Fromthetopoftheforty-footslopetheRedeemerarchersformeda
lineandnow,invulnerable,loosedtenaminuteintothethousandspackedinaspacenobiggerthanapaddock,trappednotjustagainstthealmostimpossible-to-crossstreambutagainsteachotherasmoreandmorepanickedandterrifiedrunningmenaddedtothecrushingpress.Thosewho’dseenwhat
washappeningandlookedforescapeelsewheredidno
better.Mostranfurtheralongtheriver,headingforthebridgeatGlane,butwereeasilycaughtbythemountedinfantryoftheRedeemers.Seeingtheyweren’tgoingtomakethecrossing,manytriedtoswimforit.Butheretheswollenstreamwasevendeeperandtheydrownedagainintheirthousands.Realizingtherewasnoescapeacrosstheriver,thosewho
turnedbackwereslaughteredonthebanks.Perhapsathousandmadeittothebridgeandsafelyacross.TheywouldhavediedoncetheRedeemersmadeitoverthebridgebuttheywerestopped.SomeonewithforesightsetthebridgealightassoonastheysawtheRedeemerscoming.Itwasacolddecisionbecauseathousandmenwerestill
tryingtocrosswhenitbegantoburn.FireinfrontandRedeemersbehind,theterrifiedmenhadnochoicebuttotry,andfail,toswimacrossthisdeepestpartoftheriver.Itwasclaimedthatsomesurvivedbecausethenumbersofthedrownedpackedintotheriverweresogreattheywereabletowalkacrossthebodiestoescape.Thousandsmorehadrun
awayalongtheuplandstotherearofthepositionwheretheyhadbeguntheday,discardingarmourastheywent.ThemountedRedeemersfollowedthem–theywereasvulnerableaslittleboys.Nowtheskyhadclearedandthebrightestofmoonsbegantoriseandtakeawaywhathelpthedarkcouldbring.Whenthesuncameupatsixthedeadlay
everywhere,fortenmilesfromthebattleandforsixmileswide.Morethanahundredofthegreatandthegoodwerecapturedbutnotforransomorasusefulhostages.SantosHallestablishedfirstwhotheywereandwhatdegreeofpowertheyheldandthenexecutedthem.ForthesecondtimeinlittlemorethanayeartheRedeemers
haddestroyedarulingclassinsideasingleday–andalsofinishedmostofwhatthey’dstartedinthedestructionoftheMaterazziatSilburyHill.ButConnlived,evenifFauconberghadneededtopracticallydraghimontoahorsetomakehisgetaway.‘There’snothingyoucandoexceptsurvive,’theoldmanhadshoutedathim.‘Livingisthebestrevenge.’
Mostlyheroesdie,mostlyheroesfail.Thedarkesthourisnotbeforedawnandnordoeseverycloudhaveasilverlining.Lifeisnotalottery:inalottery,finally,thereisawinner.Butitisalsothecasethatnonewsiseverasgoodorasbadasitfirstseems.Inthisinstance,thehideousdefeatatBexdidhaveasilverliningandmorethanthat.Whatkindofdisasterit
was–andforthoseinvolveditwascertainlythat–dependedverymuchonwhoyouwere.ForArtemisiaHalicarnassusandThomasCaleitworkedoutverywell.WithinsixteenhoursitbecamecleartherewereonlysometwothousandsurvivorsfromtheSwissandtheirallies,halfofwhomhadmadeitovertheGlanebridgebeforeitwassetalight.But
thesurvivorswereveryfarfromsafe–mostlyunarmedandunarmoured,theywerestillalongwayfromtheprotectionoftheSchallenbergPasssomeeightymilesaway.Theburntbridgehadslowedtheirpursuersbutnotstoppedthem.InamatterofhourstheRedeemerswereoverthestreamandintentonfinishingwhatthey’dstarted.Butitwaspreciselyonthis
kindofrearguardactionthatArtemisiahadcutherteeth.Addingtoherownguerrillamilitiaofthreehundredwithasmallnumberofescapeesstillabletofight–lessthantwohundred–shedividedherforceswithCale,whomadeitclearheexpectednottotakeordersbuttodoashesawfit;shemadeitequallyclearthathewouldnot.‘DoasIsayoryoucan
buggeroffbacktoLeeds.IknowwhatI’mdoingandthesearemymen.’Calethoughtaboutthis.‘There’snoneed,’hesaid
atlast,‘tousesuchbadlanguage.’ThegroundbetweenBex
andtheSchallenbergPasswasalwaysrisingandtheroadspassedthroughanynumberofwoodsandoversmallhills.Fromthese
positions,alwaysretreatingslowlyandavoidingadirectfight,ArtemisiaplaguedtheRedeemersastheybegantocatchtheexhaustedandoftenwoundedSwisswithvolleysofarrowsandindividualsnipersinanendlesshitandrun.WhilesacrificeandmartyrdomwereenthusiasticallypursuedbytheRedeemersingeneral,eventheyhadalimitedtaste
forbeingstruckbysomeonetheycouldn’tevenseeinpursuitofthescraggyremnantsofadefeatedarmy.Theybackedoffandcontentedthemselveswithmurderingtheoccasionalstraggler.InshortordertheylosttheirenthusiasmevenforthiswhenArtemisiastartedsettingtrapsforthemusingcarefullyplacedmenpretendingtobewoundedin
placeswheretheRedeemerscouldbeeasilyambushed.Overthefollowingtwodays,nearlyfifteenhundredmenmadeitbacktotheSchallenbergPassandsafety.AmongthemwereConnMaterazziandLittleFauconberg.
21
Theaftermathofanydisasterusuallydemandstwothings:first,thepersonresponsibleforthedisastermustbenamed,shamedandpunishedinthemostelaboratemannerpossible;second,thoughless
important,itwashighlydesirabletofindsomeonewhodemonstrated,throughtheirpersonalcourage,intelligenceandskill,thatthedreadfuldisastercouldandshouldhavebeenaverted.InthecaseofthedisasteratBex,thattherewasn’tanyonetoblameoranyoneparticularlytopraisewasneitherherenorthere.Already,byvirtueofhisgreat
experienceoftriumphanddisaster,LittleFauconbergwasalerttothelikelihoodofretributionandsomethreedaysafterthemiserableremnantsoftheSwissarmyreturnedtoSpanishLeeds,FauconbergrealizedthewaythingsweregoingandsentamessagetoConnMaterazzithathemightdowelltomakehimselfscarce.Hetookhisownadviceandbynightfall
waswellonhiswaytowardsalittle-knownpassoverthemountainsthathehadmarkedoutforthispurposeassoonashewasappointedsecond-in-command.ButbythenConnhad
alreadybeenarrestedandchargedwithmisfeasanceinthefaceoftheenemyandfailuretostrive.Inshort,hewasaccusedofnotwinningabattle,acrimeofwhichhe
wasunquestionablyguilty.TherageoftheKingandthepeopledidnotpermitanygreatamountoftimetopassandConn’strialwasorderedtotakeplaceintheCommonsonthefollowingWednesday.JustasConnwasbeingunjustifiablyblamed,Calefoundhimselfbeingunjustifiablypraised,muchtothefuryofArtemisiaHalicarnassus.Allthecredit
forheroicallysavingtheremnantsofthearmyandseeingthemsafelytotheSchallenbergPasshadbeengiventoCale:theideathattheonlysoldierwho’dshownthenecessarybraveryandskillwasawomanwasnotjustunacceptableinacrudesensebutimpossibletograsp.‘There’snopointblaming
me,’saidCale.‘Whynot?’
Thiswashardtoanswer.Heentirelyunderstoodherangerbut,asheunwiselypointedout,thatwasjustthewaythingswere.‘There’snopointwhiningaboutit.’‘Takethatback!’‘Allright.Whiningwill
makeanenormousdifference.’‘I’mnotwhining.Ideserve
thecredit.’‘Iagree.Youdeservethe
creditforsavingfifteenhundredmen.Absolutely.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’‘Idon’tmeananything.’‘Yes,youdo.Whatareyou
drivingat?’‘Allright.Youdeservethe
creditforsavingfifteenhundredmen.They’regivingittomeandIdon’tdeserveit–butwhatthey’rereallysayingisthatwhoever’sresponsibleforthat–whichis
you–wouldhavebeatentheRedeemers.’‘Andyou’resayingthatI
couldn’t.’‘Yes.’‘Howdoyouknow?’‘Conndideverythingright.
Icouldn’thavedoneitbetter.’‘Soofcoursethat’sproof
enough.Noonecoulddobetterthanyou.’‘Ididn’tsaythat.’
‘Youdidn’thaveto.’‘Iadmireyou.’‘Notasmuchasyou
admireyourself.’‘Thatwouldbeaskinga
lot,’hesaid,smiling.‘Icanseerightthrough
you,don’tworry.You’renotjoking,Iknow.’‘Youcouldrunthatbattlea
hundredtimesandConnwouldhavewonfiftyofthem.Whatthepeopleare
screamingisthatwhoeversavedthefifteenhundred–you–wouldhavewonthebattle.That’scredityoudon’tdeserve,evenifit’sbeengiventosomeonewhodeservesitless.’‘You,youmean?’‘Yes.’‘Sayit.’‘Idon’tdeservethecredit.
Youdo.’Shesaidnothingfora
moment.Inthemeantimeanother
chargehadbeenaddedtotheaccusationslevelledagainstConn:thathehad,inamannercowardlyandcraven,setfiretothebridgeatGlaneand,inordertosavehisowntreacherousskin,condemnedthousandstodieatthehandsoftheRedeemers.Ofallthecountsagainsthimthiswasthemostdamaging.Itwas
alsothemostunfair.Connhadn’tbeenwithinfivemilesofthebridgeandcouldn’t,therefore,havesetfiretoit.Butevenifhehad,ithadbeenanecessaryact.ThestrandedmenkilledontheleftbankwouldhavemadeitoverandsurvivedonlytobechaseddownandkilledoncetheRedeemerscrossedtotherightbehindthem.Thosealreadyontherightbank
survivedonlybecausesomeonetooktheharddecisiontoburnthebridge.Thepersonwhohadsetfiretothebridge,disguisedbymeansofanabandonedhelmet,wasThomasCale.Perhapsnohistorical
subjecthasbeenwrittenaboutsothoroughlyastheriseoftheFifthReichunderAloisHuttler.Thefailuretoexplainhowamanoflittle
education,lessintelligenceandnoobvioustalentexceptforwindyinspirationalspeechesabouthiscountry’smanifestdestinytoruletheworldcouldcomeascloseasanymaninhistorytoachievingthisendisobvious.Nooneknowshowhemanagedtherisefromimprisonmentforaggressivebeggingtorulingthelivesofmillionsacrossvastterritories
andbringingalevelofdestructiontotheworldneverseenbeforeinhumanhistory.Nohistorianwillconcludeattheendofabookthatthereisnoexplanationforthethingshedescribes.InthecaseofAloisthereisnone.Thatithappenedisallthereasonthatwilleverbeuncovered.Itisagooddealeasiertoexplainsatisfactorilyhow,bytheendoftheweekfollowingthe
disasteratBex,ThomasCale,boylunatic,hadbecomethesecondmostimportantmilitarycommanderintheSwissAlliance.Becauseofhisnew-found
heroicstatushehadbeeninvitedtoattendtheconferencetodiscusswhattodonowthattheRedeemershadsealedupSwitzerlandfromtherearandhadonlytocrosstheMississippitocrush
SpanishLeedsinavice.Therewasnoarmylefttostopthemandnooneleftalivetoleaditeveniftherehadbeen.TherewereafairnumberofspeechesgivenindignantlymakingitclearthatthespeakershadneverbeeninfavourofattackingtheRedeemersinsuchadisastrousfashion,althoughsolidevidenceoftheirstandwassomehowlacking.The
onlypersonwho’dclearlystoodoutagainsttheaction,Artemisia,wentunmentioned,althoughshehadwithoutanyfussbeenallowedbackintoattendtheconference.Beforesheattended
VipondhadtriedtomarkhercardaswellasCale’s.‘Whateveryousayatthe
conferenceyouwon’tsay“Itoldyouso”,willyou?’
‘Whyshouldn’tI?’saidArtemisia.‘Shewon’tsayit,’said
Cale.‘Iwill.’Calelookedather.‘She
won’tsayit.’Itwasnotanorder,oreven
ademand.Indeeditwashardtosaywhatitwas–alayingoutofaninevitablefact,perhaps.Withasigh,shelessthangracefullyacceptedthe
advice.Attheconferenceitself
Calemadeapointofsayingnothingatfirstinordertolettheaccusationsandhand-wringinggoonforlongenoughforthemtodemoralizeeveryoneintheroom.Thenthelamentationsbegan.‘Howlongbeforethey
come?’askedtheKing.ItwasamoroseSupreme
LeaderoftheAlliedForceswhoreplied.‘They’lltakeallsummerto
buildtheboatsneededtocomeacrosstheMississippi.Theautumnfloodswillmaketherivertreacherousandthewintericemoretreacherousstill.Itwillbelatespringnextyear.’‘Canwerebuildanarmyin
sevenmonthsandholdthemattheriver?’askedtheKing.
Itwasthequestion,orsomethinglikeit,thatCalehadbeenwaitingfor.‘No,youcan’t,Your
Majesty,’hesaid,andstoodup.Thinandpaleinhiselegantblackcassock(hewascomfortableinthemafteralltheyearshe’dwornthem,althoughhistailordesignedthecutmoreelegantlyandmadeitoutofthesoftestSertseywool),Calelooked
likesomethingoutofafairystorytofrightenintelligentchildren.TheKing,affronted,turnedhishandasideandanexplanationwasgiveninwhispersastowhothiswasandhis(largelyundeserved)heroicstatus.‘YouwereaRedeemer,I
understand.’‘Iwasbroughtupasone,’
saidCale.‘ButIwasneveroneofthem.’Therewasmore
whisperingintheKing’sear.‘Isthistruethatyou
commandedaRedeemerarmy?’‘Yes.’‘Itseemsunlikely–you’re
veryyoung.’‘I’maveryremarkable
person,YourMajesty.’‘Areyou?’‘Yes.IdestroyedtheFolk
andafterIdestroyedtheFolkIcamebacktoChartresand
destroyedtheLaconicarmyattheGolan.YouhadnoonetorivalmeevenbeforeBex.NowI’mallthereis.’‘You’reveryboastful.’‘I’mnotboasting,Your
Majesty,I’msimplytellingyouthetruth.’‘Areyoutellingusyoucan
holdtheRedeemersattheMississippi?’‘No.Itcan’tbedone.You
couldn’thavestoppedthem
thereevenwithanarmyandnowyoudon’tevenhaveanarmy.’Therewasanoutcryatthis:
thattheSwissandtheirallieswouldraisethousandstotheircause,thatyoucouldtaketheirlandbutyoucouldnevertaketheirfreedom,thatthepeoplewouldfighttheminthewoodsandontheplainsandinthestreets,thattheywouldnevergivein,andso
on.Zog,averymuchmoresoberpersonthanhe’dbeenonlyaweekbefore,signalledthemtostop.‘Areyousayingthatwe
mustlose?’‘I’msayingthatyoucan
win.’‘Withnoarmy?’‘I’llgiveyouanewarmy.’‘That’sverygoodofyou.’‘Goodnesshasnothingto
dowithit.’
‘Howcanyoudothis?’‘Ifyouwillseeme
tomorrowinprivateI’llshowYourMajesty.’It’sbeensaidthata
confidencetrickstergetshisnamenotbygainingtheconfidenceofthosehetricks,butbygivingthemsomeofhisown.Thetruthwasverysimple:theywereutterlylostandnowonepersonwasclaiminghecouldfindthem
again.Insuchcircumstanceshisimplausibilitywasasigninhisfavour:onlysomethingunbelievablystrangecouldsavethem.
AtBex,theRedeemersnowhadtheappallingjobofburyingthethirtythousandthey’dkilledthere.Itwasaweekafterthebattleitselfandthetwodaysofintensecolddirectlyfollowingthefight
hadgivenway,asitoftendidinthatpartoftheworld,toawarmspell.Thebodiesthatstanktheworstwerethosewhohaddiedfrominternalinjuriescausedbytheheftofthepoleaxes.ThebloodstayedinsideandrottedandwhentheRedeemersmovedthebodiesthebloodpouredoutofthenosesandmouths.Thenitgothotterstillandthebodiesbegantobloat,sobig
thatonthecheaperarmourtherivetsburstopenwithanenormousSNAP!Thenthebodieswentblueandthenblackandtheskinpeeledandthosewhohadtoburnthemthoughtthey’dnevergetthesmelloutofthebacksoftheirthroats.Mostnewsisneverasbad
orasgoodasitfirstseems.ThiswascertainlytrueofthegreatRedeemervictoryat
Bex.RedeemerGeneralGilwasimpressedbytheskillwithwhichtheOfficeofthePropagationoftheFaithhadmanagedtopulloffthecontradictioninvolvedinpraisingthecourage,strengthandsacrificeoftheRedeemerarmywhilealsosuggestingthatGodhadensuredvictorywasinevitable.AsGilknewfromhismanyprotégéswhohadbeeninthefightatBex,
ithadbeenadamnedclose-runthing.ThebadnewswasthatCalehadbeenseenbyahandfulofRedeemersbuthehadn’theardofitearlyenoughtoquarantinethemandstopthenewsfromspreading.‘Tellmeexactlywhatyou
saw–don’taddanything.Youunderstand?’‘Yes,RedeemerGeneral.’He’ddecidedtoseethe
sniperswho’dstumbledintoCaleinthewoodsonebyone,startingwiththesergeant.‘Goon.’‘Hewassevenfoottalland
agreatlightshonefromhisface.AroundhisheadwasahaloofredfireandthemotheroftheHangedRedeemerwasnexttohimallinblueandwithsevenstarsatherforeheadandshewasweepingtearsofsorrowfor
ourgloriousdead.Andthereweretwoangelsholdingarrowsoffire.’‘Anddidtheyhavehalos
aswell?’‘Idon’tthinkso,Redeemer
General.’Forhalfanhourhetriedto
getsomesenseoutofthesergeantbutsomeonewhobelievedCalewasseven-foottallandthathisfaceshonewithanythingbutsuspicion
andloathingwasclearlynotgoingtobeofmuchhelp.Afterinterrogatingtwomoreofthegroup,whoseaccountswereevenmoreridiculous,hegaveup.Hewasnowfacedwith
twoquestions.Wasthisjustanexcessofholyglee,orhadtheyreallyseenCale?Ifso,whatdiditmean?Whywasheskulkinginthewoodsandnotleadingtroopsinthe
battle?Itdidn’tevensolvetheproblemofwhathadhappenedtoCaleaftertheTwoTrevorshadbeenkilled.Gilhadhopedhe’ddiedofhisinjuries–surelytheTrevorsmusthavegotinatleastoneblowbeforehekilledthem?TheyweresupposedtobethebestmurderersintheFourQuartersandCalewassupposedtobesick.Maybe
Calewasdead,inwhichcasethestoriesabouthimappearingatthebattlewereevenmoreworrying.Orwerethey?Wasitbettertohavehimaliveandwithoutpowerordeadandturningupseven-foottallandwithahalo,creatingGod-knows-whathavocamongtheunwaryfaithful?Ifthisseemsunusuallyscepticalforamanofdeepspiritualbeliefs
intheOneTrueFaith,thefactofthematterwasthatGilwaschanginginhisoldage.Aslongasmiraclesandvisionsconcernedpeopleorthingshehadn’texperienceddirectlyhe’dbeenreadytoacceptthemwithoutquestion.ButtherealityofhispersonalexperienceofCaleandtheprogressivelymorenonsensicalstoriesabouthimincreasinglystuckinhis
throat.HehadknownCalesincehewasasmellylittleboy,hadtrainedhimdayafterdayunderBosco’sinstructions,hadseenhimwethimselfwithfearafterafightbeforetheblowontheheadgavehimthatoddtalentnoonecouldmatch.ItwastheworkofGod,saidBosco.ButitwasjusttoohardforGiltothinkofCaleassomeonechosenbytheLord
tobringabouttheendofeverything.Inhisheart,Gilthoughtofhimasaboyhedidn’tlike.WhatGildidnotrealize,orwanttorealize,wasthatsuchrealismwaspoisoninghisfaith.NottobelieveinCalewasnottobelieveinBosco:nottobelieveinBoscowasnottobelieveintheneedfortheendoftheworld.Toacknowledgethiswasto
questionhiscentralplaceinbringingitabout.Betternottogothere.Butitwaseasiernotdonethannotthoughtabout.Themoreimmediate
problemwaswhat,ifanything,totellBosco.Tellhimaboutthismiraculousdrivelandhe’dbecertaintobeinspired.Nottellhimandifhefoundouttherewouldbetrouble.Hedecidednotto
taketheriskandseveralhourslaterhewaswithPopeBoscoandcomingtotheconclusionofhisreportontheunusualsightingofThomasCale.‘Doyoubelievethem?’
saidBoscowhenGilhadfinished.Answeringthiswastricky.HedgehisreplywiththoughtfuldoubtandperhapshemightbeabletoshapeBosco’sresponse.Buthe
decideditwasatestandhewasright.ButeventellingBoscowhathewantedtohearpresentedproblems.ToomuchenthusiasmwouldmakehimsuspiciousandGilfearedwhatmighthappenifBoscocooledanymoretowardshim.‘Iremainreasonablysure,
YourHoliness,thatCalehasnotgrownbymorethanafootandnordoeshisface
shinewithaholylight,butIbelievetheysawhim.Thequestionis:whatwashedoingthere?’Boscolookedathimbut
he,too,wantedtheoldtrustbetweenthemtoreturn.Itwaslonelyandstrangetostandonyourowntobringaboutthepromisedend.‘Whateverhethinkshis
purposeis,heisaboutGod’sbusinesswhetherheknowsit
ornot.ButwhileGodmaynothaveincreasedhisheightorblessedhisfacetoilluminatethefaithfulhe’sgivenusasignal.WemustattackArnhemlandnowandnotwaitforanotheryearasyouadvised.Andwemustincreasethespeedatwhichwesendpeopletothewest.’
TheprivatemeetingwiththeKingthatCaleattendedthe
nextdaywasnotreallyprivateinthewayhe’deitherexpectedorhoped.Infact,theKingwasnomoreusedtoprivacythanCalehadbeengrowingupinhisdormitoryofhundreds.BeingonyourownwasasintotheRedeemersanditmightjustaswellhavebeenthesamefortheKingtoallintentsandpurposes.UnlikeCale,hedidn’tseemeithertomindor
eventonotice,unsurprising,perhaps,inamonarchwhohadaspecialappointeeofconsiderablepower,theKeeperoftheKing’sStool,toexaminehisexcrementonadailybasis.‘Youexpectustohand
overourarmytoaboy?’saidBoseIkard.‘No,’saidCale.‘Keep
yourarmy.Dowhatyouwantwithit.I’llcreateaNew
ModelArmy.’‘Fromwhere?Thereareno
men.’‘Yes,thereare.’‘Where?’‘TheCampasinos.’Allwerestartled;not
everyonelaughed.‘Ourpeasantsarethesalt
oftheearth,ofcourse.Buttheyarenotsoldiers.’‘Howdoyouknow,Your
Majesty?’
‘Mindyourmanners,’saidBoseIkard.‘Butasithappensyou’renotthefirsttocomeupwiththisidea.TwentyyearsagoCountBechsteincreatedacompanymadeupofbogtrottersandbumpkinsandtookthemofftothewarsagainsttheFalange.Ibelieveoneortwowhohadthesensetodesertinthefirstweekmighthavesurvived.’‘Idon’tcare.’
‘Butwedo.Itwillnotwork.’‘Yes,itwill.I’llshowyou
how.’Withthathewenttowork
withhisdesignsandplans.Anhourlaterhefinished:
‘Thesimplefactisthis:there’snootherway.IfIfailyoucanhavethesatisfactionofwatchingtheRedeemersroastmeinthetownsquare.Thatis,Chancellor,ifthey
don’tstartwithyou.’HeturnedtotheKing.‘AllIneedismoney.’Theymighthavebarely
anysoldiersbutmoneywassomethingtheyhadingreatquantities.AftertheslaughteratBex,noonebelieved,notevenBoseIkard,thatsurrenderwasanalternative.ItwasclearthattheRedeemersdidn’trecognizethenotionofallowingtheir
enemiestogivein.Calewasright.Therewasnootherway.‘Youcandothisinseven
months?Youseemverysure.’‘Itoldyou,YourMajesty.
I’maremarkableperson.’IfCalewasnotas
confidentasheclaimed,neitherwasheasdesperateasheseemedtoIkard.HehadbeenworkingonhisNew
ModelArmysincehewastenyearsold(ornine–hewasnotsureabouthisdateofbirth).Sincethen,wheneverhe’dhadafewminutes,sometimesonlyonceaweekoronceamonth,he’ddrawadiagramormakeanoteaboutsomethingoftheworkinghabitsandthedifferentkindsoftoolsthepeasantsaroundhimwereusedtohandling,thehammersandflails,the
sharpenedsmallshovelusedbytheFolkinthefightatDuffer’sDrift.EvenintheworstdaysatthePriory,whenKevinMeatyardwastormentinghim,he’dwatchthethreshersandpickersatworkinthefieldswiththeirscythesandhoesandwonderwhatmightbemadeofthemandtheirwayoflife.He’dworryaboutwhattodoifitworkedornotwhenthings
becameclear.Butherewasachancetoworkonaplanofretreataswell–onewhichwouldlikelyinvolveheadingoveramountainpasswithasmuchcashaspossible.Zogwascuriousabout
Caleinthewayhemighthavebeencuriousaboutamonkeythatcouldwritebetterthanahumanbeingorauniquelyelegantdancingdog.Herecognizedthatthe
boywassomeoneexceptionalbutitwouldneverhaveoccurredtohimthathewasanythingbutawondrousfreakofnature.‘Tellmemore,dearboy,
aboutyourdefeatofanentirearmyofLaconics.Tellmeallaboutit…Tellmeallaboutit…everything…theentirehistory.’WhatCalethoughtwas
thatyoumightaswellask
himtotellthehistoryofastorm.Hewas,ofcourse,abouttostartwhenBoseIkardinterrupted.‘I’mafraidthatYour
MajestyhasanimportantmeetingwiththeAmbassadorfortheHanse.’‘Oh.Anothertime,
perhaps,’hesaidtoCale.‘Mostinteresting.’Thenhewasonhiswayout.Calehimselfhadanappointment
too.ThenextdayhewasrequiredtogiveevidenceatConnMaterazzi’strial,towhichtheSwisshaddevotedalmostanentireafternoon.TheappointmentwastomakeitcleartoCalewhathisevidencewouldbe.
‘Youarethemostnotorioustraitorthateverlived!’TheHouseofMallswould
comfortablyseatfour
hundred,rangedinbanksonthreesides.Todaytherewereeighthundred,withthousandswaitingoutsidefornews.Onthefourthsidewasajudge’sbenchoccupiedthatdaybyJusticePopham,amanwhocouldbereliedupontoengineerthecorrectverdict.Nexttoit,slightlytooneside,wasaprisoner’sdock,inwhichstoodanunimpressedConnMaterazziwholooked
disdainfullyattheprosecutingattorney,SirEdwardCoke,themanwhohadjustshoutedathim.‘Youcansayit,Sir
Edward,’repliedConn,‘butyoucannotproveit.’‘ByGod,Iwill!’said
Coke,wholookedlikeabullwithoutaneck,allfoultemperandbelligerence.‘Howdoyouplead?’asked
JudgePopham.
‘Notguilty.’‘Ha!’shoutedCoke.‘You
aretheabsolutisttraitorthereeverwas.’Connturnedhishand
slightly,asifhehadtoswatawayahorsefly.‘Itdoesnotbecomea
gentlemantoinsultmeinthisway.ThoughItakecomfortfromyourbadmanners–itisallyoucando.’‘SoIseeI’veangered
you.’‘Notatall,’saidConn.
‘WhywouldIbeangry?Ihaven’tyetheardonewordagainstmethatcanbeproved.’‘Didn’tFauconbergrun
awayoverthemountainsbecausehehadbetrayedusatBex?Anddidn’tthattergiversatingsneakalsoplantokilltheKingandhischildren?’Hesniffedloudly
asifitwerealltoomuch.‘Thosepoorbabieswhonevergaveoffencetoanyone.’‘IfLordFauconbergisa
traitorwhat’sthatgottodowithme?’‘Everythinghedid,you
viper,wasatyourinstigation!’Atthistherewasahuge
boilingoverinthecrowd.TRAITOR!MURDERER!
HEAR!HEAR!HEAR!CONFESS!THEBABIES!THEPOORBABIES!Pophamletthemfulminate.HewantedConntogetthepointthathisrefusaltoplaytheroleofabjectpenitent,ashe’dbeentoldto,wasdoinghimnogood.‘Silenceinthecourt,’hesaid.ThetroublewithtryingtobribeConntogoalongwithhispartwasthatPophamknewperfectly
wellthatsacrificingagoatrequiredthatthegoatunderstoodthathewasitnomatterwhathesaidordidnotsay.Coke,nowredintheface
withfury,wavedapieceofpaperintheair.‘ThisisaletterfoundhiddeninasecretdrawerinthehouseofthatrenegadeFauconberg.OnithestatesclearlythatthevilePopeBoscointendedtopay
sixhundredthousanddollarstoConnMaterazziandthathewouldgiveFauconbergtwohundredthousandtoassisthiminlosingthebattle.’Hewavedthepaperoncemoreandthenbroughtitclosetoreadwithanexpressiononhisfaceasifsomeonehadusedittowipetheirarse.‘Itsayshere,“ConnMaterazziwouldneverletmealone”.’Heturnedtotheclerk.‘Read
thatlineagain.’Startled,therecordingclerkblushedbrightred.‘Getabloodymoveon,man!’shoutedCoke.‘“ConnMaterazziwould
neverletmealone.”’Cokelookedaroundthe
room,noddinghisheadingrimtriumph.SHAME!calledoutthecrowd.SHAME!TRAITOR!‘Isthis,’shoutedConn,
abovethenoise,‘isthis…is
thisalltheevidenceyoucanbringagainstme?AmoresuspiciouspersonthanImightsuggestthatSirEdwardcanrecitethisnonsensesowell,becauseitwashethatwroteit.’‘Youareanodiousfellow.
Ilackthewordstoexpressyourviperoustreason.’‘Indeedyoudolackworks,
SirEdward–you’vesaidthesamethinghalfadozen
times.’Cokestared,eyesbulging
withaspasmoffury.‘Youarethemosthated
maninSwitzerland!’‘Astothathonour,Sir
Edward,thereisn’tagnat’swingbetweenyouandme.’Fromonesideofthecourt,thosewhoknewCokewellandthereforeloathedhim,therewaslaughter.‘IfFauconbergwasa
traitor,’saidConn(althoughheknewhewasnot),‘Iknewnothingaboutit.ItrustedhiminthesamewaythattheKingandhiscounsellorstrustedhimwhenthey,notme,appointedhimasmysecond-in-command.’‘Youarethemostvile
traitorthateverlived.’‘Soyoukeepsaying,Sir
Edward,butwhere’syourproof?Thelawstatesthere
mustbetwowitnessestotreason.Youdon’tevenhaveone.’Anenormousbilioussmile
fromCoke,thatmadehimlooklikeasmirkingtoad.‘Youhavereadthelaw,
ConnMaterazzi,butyoudon’tunderstandit.’Pophamclearedhisthroat.
‘Thelawyouspeakofthatusedtorequiretwowitnessesincasesoftreasonhasbeen
deemedtobeinconvenient.OnMondayanotherlawwaspassedtorepealit.’Perhapsinthethrillof
answeringhisaccusersConnhadforgottenthattheverdictwasalwayscertain.Ifso,henowremembered.Buthewasrattledallthesame.‘Idon’tknowhowyou
conceivethelaw,’hesaidquietly.‘Wedon’tconceivethe
law,ConnMaterazzi,’boastedatriumphantCoke,‘weknowthelaw.’Duringthenexttwohours
therewasmoreevidenceproducedasassortedliars,falsifiers,inventors,actorsandbullshitterswerebroughtintotestifytothetraitorousremarksbeforethefightandtraitoroustacticsduringitthatprovedbeyondquestionthatConnhaddeliberatelylostthe
battle.‘Ineversawthelikecase,’declaimedCoke,‘andIhopeIshallneverseethelikeagain.’Inthelasthourtheymovedontothesecondcharge:thatConnhadsetfiretothebridgeatGlanetopreservehisownlifeatthecostofthousandsofhismen.Sixwitnesseswerecalledwhosworetheyhadseenhim,withouthishelmet,lightthefirehimself.Theseventh
witnesswasThomasCale.IthadbeenmadecleartohimthatthegoldenopinionshehadwonhadmadehisevidenceparticularlyvaluableandthattellingthecourtwhathehadseenofConn’sactionsduringthebattle,andhissubsequentsettingfiretothebridgeovertheriverwasessentialifthosewhostillwaveredoverthegrantingofmoneytowardshisNew
ModelArmyweretobepersuadedastothetruedepthofhisdevotiontotheinterestsofthestate.‘Yourname.’‘ThomasCale.’‘Putyourrighthandonthe
GoodBookandrepeatafterme:“IswearthatwhatIamabouttosayisthetruth,thewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth.”’‘Itis.’
‘Youhavetosayit.’‘What?’‘Youhavetorepeatthe
words.’Apause.‘IswearthatwhatIam
abouttosayisthetruth,thewholetruthandnothingbutthetruth.’‘SohelpmeGod.’‘SohelpmeGod.’Bynowhewasbarely
audible.
Justastheyhadrehearseditthedaybefore,CokefedCalethequestionsandCalefedbacktheanswersasiftheywereaconjurorandhisamazingdancingbearpassingaballtoeachother.Thequestionsandanswersweredesignedtodemonstrateonething:that,youthfulashewas,ThomasCalewasanexperiencedsoldier,utterlyversedinthebattletacticsof
theRedeemers.HewasalsoaskedindetailtosetouthisheroicandskilfulactionsinsavingthelivesoffifteenhundredSwisssoldiersandtheirnoblealliessomiserablybetrayedbyConnMaterazzi.‘Atonepoint,MrCale,
youwereabletoobservethebattlefromatreeinthenearbywoods?’‘Yes.’‘Didthisgiveyoua
completeviewofthebattle?’‘Idon’tknowabout
complete–butasgoodasyouwerelikelytoget.’CokestaredatCale.This
wasnotthestraightforwardlinethey’dagreed.‘Whywassomeoneofyour
experiencenotinvolveddirectly?’‘Itwasprevented.’‘Bythedefendant?’‘Idon’tknow.’
Cokestaredathim.Yetagainthebearwasnotreturningtheballashe’dbeentaught.‘Isitnotthecase,’said
Coke,offeringhimanopportunitytodobetter,‘thatSirHarryBeauchamp,atConnMaterazzi’sinstruction,toldyounottoinvolveyourselfinthebattledirectly,onpainofdeath?’‘Hetoldmetostayoutofit
orsuffertheconsequence–yes.Buthedidn’tmentionanyonebyname.’‘Butitwaswhatyou
understood?’Thiswastoomuch,even
forPopham.Theformsmightbebentbuttheycouldnotbebrokenquitesogrossly.‘SirEdward,Irealizethat
youspeakoutofzealforyourdutyandhorroratthedefendant’scrimes–butyou
mustnotleadthewitnesstorepeathearsay,particularlywhentherewasnonetorepeat.’ThatCokelackedaneck
seemedtobeconfirmedbyhishabitofturninghiswholebodytolookatwhoeverspoketohim,givinghimthelookofastatueofhideousaspect.Theobservantwouldhavenoticedasmallmuscletwitchingonhisrighttemple.
Ifhewasabomb,thoughtHooke,watchingfromthebackofthecourt,he’dbereadytoexplode.‘Myapologiestothe
court.’HeturnedbacktoCale,thesmallmusclestilltwitching.‘IsittruethatattheBattle
ofSilburyHillyousavedthelifeofthedefendant?’‘Yes.’‘Clearproof,ladiesand
gentlemenofthejury,thatthewitnessbearshimnoillwill.Isthatso?’‘Idon’tunderstand.’‘Really?’‘No.’‘Doyou,’saidCoke,the
musclenowtwitchingonhislefttemple,‘bearthedefendantanyillwill?’‘No.’‘Didyouputyourownlife
atriskwhensavinghim?’
‘Yes.’‘Hasheeverthankedyou
forthismostcourageousact?’‘Ican’tremember,tobe
honest.’‘Doesthismakeyou
angry?’‘No.’‘Whynot,MrCale?Ithink
mostofuswouldbeangryatsuchwretchedingratitude.’‘Theingratitudeofprinces
isaproverb,isn’tit?’
‘Ihaveneverfoundprincesofanykindinthiscountrytobeungrateful,butIbelieveitofConnMaterazzi.’‘Well,thatwaswhyI
wasn’tangry.Ididn’texpectit.’Forthefirsttimesincehe’d
comeintocourt,CalelookeddirectlyatConn.Whatpassedpassedbetweenthemwasoddstuff.‘Wouldyoutellus,’said
Coke,‘whatwasyourestimationoftheconductofthebattlefromyouruniqueviewpoint?’‘Doyoumeanfromthe
treeorbasedonmyexperience?’‘Both,MrCale,both.’‘Itwasagoodthreehours
intothebattle,I’dsay,maybemore.Itlookedlikeitcouldgoeitherway.’‘Didyouseethedefendant
onthefield?’‘Forawhile.Itwasata
distance,though.’‘Youformedanopinion,
based,’heturnedbacktothejury,‘basedonyourconsiderableexperience,astohisconductofthattragicengagement?’Therewasapauseasif
Calewasthinkingsomethingover.‘Yes.’
ThemusclesinCoke’sforeheadstoppedtwitching.‘Andwhatwasthat
consideredopinion?’Ifhewasgoingtobetrue
tohisoath,somethinghehadnointentionofdoing,CaleshouldhavesaidthatConnhaddemonstratedoutstandingpersonalandtacticalcourage.Hecouldnothavedonebetterhimself–orevenaswell.Mindyou,hemighthave
addedhewouldneverhavefoughtthebattleinthefirstplace.Butnoonewantedtohearthat.Thesimpletruth–thefacts-as-they-stoodkindoftruth,asopposedtothewhole-and-nothing-buttruth–wasthatConnwasadeadman.Defendinghimbecauseitwasthehonestthingtodowasidleandfutile.Calegenuinelybelievedhe
wastheonlypersonwho
couldstopBoscoandthatwithouthisNewModelArmyeveryoneinthecity,possiblyincludingCale,wouldbedeadinsidetwelvemonths.ItwasnotjustidleandfutiletodefendConn,itwaswrong.Soitwashardforhimtoexplainwhyhecouldnotbringhimselftoliedirectlyinordertoensureagoodthingwasdoneasopposedtobeatingaboutthebushand
riskingthatgoodthing.Herealizedthestupidityofwhathewasdoingand,givenafewminutestothinkaboutit,hewouldhavedemonstratedtohimselfthatriskingthelivesofmillionstosavethelifeofashit-baglikeConnMaterazzi,howeveradmirablyhehadbehavedatBex,waswicked,evil,wrongand,worsethanallofthis,badforThomasCale.
‘Hehaddoneallthethingsthatanycommanderinsuchabattlemighthaveconsidered,giventhecircumstances.Althoughhemighthaveconsideredotheractions.’‘Actionsthatwouldhave
beenmoreeffective–that’swhatyou’resaying?’‘Moreeffective?’‘Yes–you’resayinghe
couldprobablyhavechosentobehaveotherwiseandso
winthebattle.’Apause.‘Um.Yes.’‘MrCale,’interrupted
JusticePopham.‘Wecometotheheartofthematterhere.Areyousayingthatiftheaccusedhadacteddifferentlythendefeatwouldhavebeenavertedandvictoryachieved?’‘Icandefinitelysaythat,’
saidCale,relieved.‘Yes.Had
heacteddifferentlythebattlemighthavebeenwon.’‘Iwant…’WhatCoke
wantedwastogetaplainassertion,ashadbeenagreed,thatCalewouldstateunequivocallythatConnhaddeliberatelylostthebattle.Pophamrealizedthat,forwhateverreason,thecreatureinthewitnessboxhadchangedhismind,andthatbytryingtowringanassertionof
Conn’sguiltoutofCale,Cokewasmakingthingslookbad.TherewereplentyofotherstostateConnhadlostdeliberatelyandthathehadpersonallysetfiretothebridge.Thiswasahorsethatwouldn’trun.‘Ithinkwe’vetroubledthe
witnesslongenough.’‘Onemorequestion,’
demandedCoke,templemusclestwitchingagain,and
askeditbeforepermissionwasrefused.‘DidyouwitnessConnMaterazzisettingfiretothebridgeovertheRiverGar?’‘No.Iwasn’tanywhere
nearit.’
22
AlongthebanksoftheRiverImprevuoneofitsgreatestoakshadfallenintotheriver,itsrootsunderminedbythecurrentcreatedbytherocksthathadfallenafewmonthsearlierfromthebridgeabove.
Ahazardtoshipping,thelocalmayorhadorderedthebranchestobestrippedasfaraspossiblesothatitcouldbehauledtolieflushwiththebank.Theywereluckyinthatoncethebrancheshadbeencutfromthetreeabovethewateraflashsurgeofwaterfromraininthemountainspusheditoversothattheothersidecouldalsohaveitsbranchesremoved.
Unfortunately,whentheywerealmostfinished,asecondsurgejerkeditfreeofitstemporarymooringsandflushedthegreattrunkdowntherivertowardstheMississippiwhereitwouldnowbecomesomeoneelse’sproblem.
Thatnight,afterthetrial,IdrisPukkecookeddinner,amoroseaffair.Theguests
consistedofCale,Artemisia,VagueHenri,KleistandCadbury.‘IsVipondangrywith
me?’askedCale.‘Wouldyoublamehim?’
saidCadbury.‘Isn’tConnhisgreatnepheworsomething?’HelookedatIdrisPukke,taunting.‘He’sevenrelatedtoyou,isn’the?How’sthatwork?’IdrisPukkeignoredhim.
‘Vipondisn’tahypocrite.Heunderstandswhyyoufeltobligedtogiveevidence.Butheispuzzled.’‘Includetherestofus,’
saidVagueHenri.‘Ineversawanythingsostupidinmyentirelife.’Kleistsaidnothing.He
hardlyseemedtobeintheroomatall.‘God,’saidArtemisia,
clearlyshockedbyherlover’s
behaviour,‘hasaparticularpunishmentforperjurers.’ItwasasignofherfailingaffectionforCalethatthiswasaharsherwayofconstruingtheeventsofthedaythanwasstrictlyfair.Whywereheraffectionsfailingandsosuddenly?Whydotheyever?PerhapsshehadbeenimpressedbyConn’slonelycourageandcomparedhim,astheystoodopposite
oneanother,toCale,sounblond,sostrangeandsolackinginnobilityorgrace.‘Hesendsthemtobed
withoutanypudding?’offeredCale.‘No.’‘Ididn’tthinkso.God
alwayshassomethingnastylyinginwaitfornaughtyboys.’‘He’sgotadevilputaside
totormentyouthroughall
eternitybyshovingaredhotpokerupyourbottom.’ThiswasfromVagueHenri.‘Sorry,’saidCale.‘He’ll
havetogotothebackofthequeue.Besides,thedevilthey’veputasideformeforpoisoningwellsissupposedtoshoveapipedownmythroattofillmystomachfullofshit-water.They’lljustcanceleachotherout.’‘Goingunderoathisn’ta
joke.He’sgoingtodiebecauseofyou.’‘Theonlyreasonhe’salive
tobesentencedtodeathisbecauseofme–sowe’reeven.’‘Ithinkweshouldallcalm
down,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Wine,anyone?’Nooneseemedinterested
inwinesohestartedhandingoutwhatlookedlikesmallcrackerswrappedintoasmall
thumb-sizedparcel.Therewasoneeachandtheyallstaredunenthusiasticallyatthehardandunappetizingpastries.‘You’renotsupposedto
eatthem,justbreakthemopen.I’vedecidedtopublishashortcollectionofmyideascarefullyreducedtotheiressenceinonesentence.It’stobecalledTheMaximsofIdrisPukke.Ithoughtthese
wouldamuseyou.’Hegesturedthemtobreakthemopen.‘Nowreadthemout:Cadbury.’Cadbury,whowas
becominglongsighted,hadtoholdthesmallrollofpaperatsomedistance.‘Itsaysnothingagainstthe
ripenessofaman’ssoulifithasafewworms.’Cadburysuspected,
wronglyasithappened,that
thisparticularmaximwassupposedtobeabouthim.IdrisPukkerealizedhis
attempttolightenthemoodoftheeveninghadstartedbadly.HegesturedtoArtemisia.Shecrackedopenthepastry.‘Iwouldbelieveonlyina
godwhoknowshowtodance.’Shesmiledweaklybutas
shegraspedwhathewas
drivingathersmilebroadenedalittle.IdrisPukke’sheartsank–
butploughedonasifhisplanwasn’tdeflatinglikeachild’sballoon.ItwasVagueHenri’sturn.‘Toactintheworldisthe
onlywaytounderstandit.InthislifeitisgivenonlytoGodandhisangelsandpoetstobelookers-on.’LikeCadbury,Vague
HenriwonderedifIdrisPukkehadchosenthisespeciallyforhim.Washeaccusinghimofsomething?NextitwasKleist,who
crumbledthepastrywithunnecessaryforceinthepalmofonehand.‘Toliveistosuffer,to
surviveistofindsomemeaninginthesuffering.’ThenitwasCale’sturn.
Whathereadoutseemed
onlytoconfirmthatIdrisPukkewassmuglyhavingalaughattheirexpense.‘Whoeverbattleswith
monstershadbetterseethatitdoesnotturnhimintoamonster.Ifyougazelongenoughintotheabyss,theabysswillstarttogazebackintoyou.’Asilencefollowed.‘How
aboutyou?’saidCale.
IdrisPukke’sheartsankjustalittle–havingheardtheothersheknewtheonlysayingthatwasleft.Hecrumbledthepastryandreaditout.‘Ifthereexistmenwhose
ridiculoussidehasneverbeenseenitisbecauseithasneverbeenproperlylookedfor.’‘Spoton,’saidCadburybut
hestillwantedhisownbackforwhathetooktobethe
criticismoftheword-pastry.‘So,IdrisPukke,isn’tthe
unfortunateConnMaterazziarelativeofyours,then?’FromthatdayonCadburyalwaysmockinglyreferredtohimas‘theunfortunateConnMaterazzi.’‘Ofsomekind–halfa
grand-nephew,Isuppose.Couldn’tabidehimmyself.Though,tobefair,hewascomingalongprettywell.’
‘SoexplainwhyVipondisn’tsweatingforrevenge,’saidCadbury.‘IthoughttheMaterazziweremadfortheirrelations.’‘Mybrothermerely
understandstheimpossiblepositionCalefoundhimselfin.ObviouslyhelikesConnandworkedhardtosupporthim–notwithmuchgratitude,ithastobesaid,thoughtherewereother
reasonsforthat.Butheisneitherafoolnorahypocritenorlackinginaffection.He’sobligedforobviousreasonsnottobeseentohaveanythingtodowithCale,butheknowsperfectlywellthatConnhasbeenadeadmansincethelinebrokeatBex.WhatpuzzleshimisthatThomas,’andherehelookedpointedlyatCale,‘shouldgotosomuchtroubletogive
evidencethatneithercondemnedhimnorhelpedtosavehim,sothatheannoyedallsidesfornoobviousbenefit.’EveryonelookedatCale.‘Itwasamistake.All
right?IknewIcouldn’tdoConnanygoodbytellingthetruthandthatifIwentalongwiththetrialthey’dgivemewhatIneed…whateveryoneneeds.Itwasjustthat,when
itcametoit,Ijustlostit…forabit.Ihadaworthlessattackofthetruth–Iadmitit.’‘Whywasitworthless?’
askedArtemisia.‘Becausetellingthetruth
justisn’tgoingtodoanygood.There’sonethingstandingbetweenallofusandalotofbloodandscreaming–theNewModelArmy.There’snothing
complicatedaboutit.’‘Sowhydidn’tyougive
evidenceagainsthim?’‘Becauseasitturnedoutit
waseasiersaidthandone,allright?’‘Letjusticerule–even
thoughtheheavensfall.’IdrisPukkewaslightlymockingArtemisia’sidealismbutCalewasnowinatouchymoodandtookitassomesortofcriticism.
‘Stickitbackinyourcracker,granddad.’Thedinnercrumbledlike
oneofIdrisPukke’saphorismsandeveryonewenthomeinabadmood.Outsidetheeveningairwasheavyandnotsomuchlukewarmastepid,vaguelyunpleasantasifitwasatomizedwiththedeadsoulsofthesonsandhusbandsofSpanishLeedsgatheredtoattendthe
executionofConnMaterazziintwodays.CaleandVagueHenriandKleist,whosegrowingmiserymadetheothertwofeelworse,gotbacktotheireleganttownhouse.Theywerestillslightlyintimidatedbylivingthere,asifexpectingsomeoneimportanttocomeandchasethemoutforlivingabovetheirstation.Theywereusedtootherpeople’s
servantsbynowbutnottheirown.Itwasn’tthattheymindedsomeonecookingandcleaningforthem,itwasmorethatthepowerofservantstocreepuponthematunexpectedmomentsremindedthemoftheunprivacyoftheSanctuary,withitshorrorofdoorsanditspunishmentsforbeingcaughtonyourown.Servantsseemedtothinktheycould
justappearlikeRedeemers.TheytookitbadlywhenCaleinsistedtheyknockedbeforeentering,somethingtheyregardedasevidencethathewascommon.Healsomadeapointofthankingthemwhentheydidsomethingforhim,ahabitthatalsorevealedhimascommon.Theproperthingforanyemployertodowastotreatthemasiftheydidnotexist.
Beforetheyhadrungthebellthedoor,unusually,wasopenedbyBechete,theover-valet.‘Youhavecompany,sir,’
hesaid,ashegesturedtowardsthechambredesvisiteurs.‘Who?’‘Theydeclinedtogive
theirnames,sirandIwouldhaverefusedthementryundernormalcircumstances.
ButIrecognizedthemandIthought…’Heallowedhissentencetotrailoffmeaningfully.‘Sowhoisit?’‘TheDuchessofMemphis,
sir,andIbelievethewifeoftheHanseAmbassador.’‘I’mgoingtobed,’said
Kleistasifhe’dheardnothing.‘Guesswhyshebrought
Riba?’saidVagueHenri.‘Do
youwantmetocomewithyou?’‘Yes.ArbellthinksI’ll
comeonmyown.Yougofirstandbecoldwiththem.I’llcomeinabit.Leavethedooropen.’VagueHenrialmost
knocked–butstoppedhimselfandopenedthedooralittletooenergeticallytocompensate.BothArbellandRibastoodup,alittlestartled,
andhenoticedthedisappointmentonArbell’sface.OneuptoCale.‘Thisislatetobecalling,
ladies.Whatdoyouwant?’‘Goodmanners,perhaps,’
saidRiba.ButVagueHenriwasnopushover.‘Soit’sasocialvisit?I’m
surprisedbecausethere’sbeenplentyoftimetocallonusbeforenow.ObviouslyIwaswrongtothinkyou
wantedsomething.Iapologize.’‘Don’tbelikethis,Henri.
It’snotworthyofyou.’‘Yes,itis.’‘No.You’rethekindestof
people.’ThistimeitwasArbellwhospoke,butgently,notatalltheproudMaterazzienne.‘Notsomuchanymore.I
hadtimetothinkwhileIwaswaitingtobebeatentodeath
–aboutkindness,Imean.You’reakindperson,Riba,butyou’dhaveletmedieinKittytheHare’sbasement.Cale,now,he’snotakindpersonbuthewouldn’tdothat,letmedie,Imean.SoI’vegoneoffkindness.Whatdoyouwant?’VagueHenrisensedthere
wassomethingstrangeabouthisownindignation,somethingthathecouldn’t
puthisfingeronuntilmuchlater.Hewasenjoyingit.Cale,carefullywaitingthe
righttimeforadramaticentrance,thoughtthiswasgoodenough.‘Whydon’tyoutellhim?
I’dbeinterestedtohear,too.’Seeinghershookhim.She
wasbeautiful,certainly,withthattouchingbloomthathadmadesuchanimpressiononhimwhenthey’dmetinthe
corridor.Buttherearefish-in-the-seanumbersofbeautifulwomenintheworld,manyofthemwiththatsameflushofyouthandpower–butsomethingabouthertouchedhim,alwayshadandalwayswould,likeamaligntwinofthelostchord,whosediscoverythelateMontagnardsbelievedwouldgenerateagreatandinfinitecalm.Hewantedtobeloved
byherandtowringherneckinequalmeasure.‘Wewereallfriendsonce,’
saidRiba,thenturnedtoVagueHenri.‘Canwetalksomewhere?’shesaidtohim,sosadlyandsweetlythat,softandsentimentalashewas,hefeltashamedbyhisoutburst.Calenoddedathimandheshowedherout,butnotbeforeRibahadtakenCale’shand.‘Pleasebekind,’she
said,andwasgone.
Thetwoofthemstaredateachotherforsometime.‘Isupposeyou…’‘Helphim,’interrupted
Arbell.‘Please.’Agitatedandtryingtohide
it,hewentovertotheelegantanduncomfortablechairandsatdown.‘How?’hesaid.‘And
why?’
‘Theythink–theSwiss–thatyou’retheirsaviour.’‘Theywouldn’tbethefirst
togetthatwrong.’‘They’lllistentoyou.’‘Notaboutthis,theywon’t.
Itwasadisasterandsomeonehastopay.’‘Wouldyouhavedoneany
better?’‘Iwouldn’thavebeenthere
inthefirstplace.’‘Hedoesn’tdeservetodie.’
‘Ican’ttellyouhowlittlethat’sgottodowithit.’‘Areyousofullofhatred
formeyou’llletagoodmandietogetyourownback?’‘Isavedhislifeonce
already,probablythestupidestthingI’veeverdone,andifIwantedtopayyouback,youtreacherousbitch,you’dbedeadalready.’‘Hedoesn’tdeservetodie.’‘No.’
‘Sohelphim.’‘No.’‘Please.’‘No.’Itwasarareandintense
pleasuretowatchhersuffer.Hefeltasifhecouldneverhaveenoughofit.Andyethealsofeltthedreadofthelossofher,ahorrorthatincreasedthegreaterhisdelightatwatchingherinpain.Itwaslikescratchinganitchthat
onlymadethepainworseevenasitecstaticallysoothedtheverysame.Shewasshakingnowand
palewithfear.‘Iknowitwasyouwhoset
firetothebridge.’Thiswasabitofashock.‘DidI?’‘Yes.’‘Andtheproof?’‘Iknowyou.’‘They’llneedmorethan
that.’‘AndIknowtwowitnesses
whoknowyoutoo.’Thiswasentirelypossible;
therewerealotofpeopleatthebridgeandmaybesomeofArtemisia’smenhadsnitched.‘You’vechangedyour
tune,’saidCale.‘Firstit’stears,nowit’sthreats.’‘Itwasyou.’‘Nobodycares.Whoever
setfiretothebridgewasagod-damnedhero.Itjustwasn’tme.Evenifsomeoneconfesseditwouldn’tmatter.Someonehastobetoblame.Conn’stheone.That’sall.Nowtakeyoursnifflesandmenacesandshoveoff.’Hestoodupandwalked
out,halfofhimpleased,theotherhalfdevastated.Outsideinthehall,RibaandVagueHenribrokeofftheearnest
conversationtheywerehaving.Shemovedtowardshimandstartedtospeak.‘Shutup!’hesaid,andlike
aspoiltandangrychildstormedoffupthestairstobed.
23
‘WhatdidArbellMaterazziwant?’askedBoseIkard.ThemeetingwithCalehad
startedbadlywithanotherill-temperedquestion.‘Whatthebloodyhelldidyouthinkyouwereplayingat?’Thiswasin
regardtoCale’speculiarperformanceatConnMaterazzi’strial.‘Itwasmadeperfectlycleartoyouwhatyouweresupposedtosay.’Thiswastrueenough.‘ThatwasbeforeIrealized
youhadyourwitnessesqueuinguptogivethesamestory.Idon’tknowwhyyoudidn’tgothewholehogandpaythemontheirwaydown
fromthewitnessstand.Imadethewholethinglookplausibleatleast.’Thiswasentirelytrue.
Cale’shalf-bakedprevaricationhadindeedhadtheeffectofdrawingthesting,ifonlyinpart,oftheMaterazziclaimthatthetrialwasamereshow.Conn’simpressiveperformanceatthetrialhadwonhimsomesympathyandwhenatRiba’s
urgingherhusbandhadraisedobjectionsonbehalfoftheHanseastoitsfairness,IkardhadbeenabletopointtoCale’stestimonyasproofthattheevidencehadnotbeenfixedinadvance.IthadalsobenefittedCalebygivingtheimpressionhewashonestandhadrefusedtodoabadturntoafellowsoldierevenwhenitwasinhisintereststodoso.Besides,akindofmaniahad
liftedCaleoutoftherealmofordinarymen.Inamatterofdayshehadbecomefamous.ItwashardlysurprisinggiventhehideouscircumstancesinwhichtheAxisfounditself.Ifeverasaviourwasrequireditwasnow.‘Areyouspyingonme?’
askedCale,verywellawareoftheanswer.‘Youaretheobservedof
allobservers,MrCale.You
can’tpissinapotwithoutitssignificancebeingdiscussedateverydinnertableinthecity.Whatdidshewant?’‘Whatdoyouthink?’‘And?’‘Andnothing.’‘Youaren’tgoingto
intercedeonhisbehalf?’‘WouldithelpifIdid?’‘Youcouldputinaplea
forleniency,ifyouwished.Inwriting.I’dmakesurethe
Kingreceiveditpersonally.’Thatwasitthen.‘No,it’snothingtodowith
me.’Apity,thoughtBose.He
wouldcertainlynothavepassedittotheKinghadCalebeenfoolishenoughtowritesuchaplea.TheKinghadforgottenhisobsessionwithConn–orratherhenowregardedhimselfashavingbeenoverlyinfluencedby
BoseIkard’senthusiasmfortheyoungman(asifhisChancellorhadhadanychoicebuttogoalongwithhismaster’shystericalfavouritism).Fornow,Calewaseveryone’sfavourite,includingtheKing’s,soitwouldn’tdotobeseentoworkagainsthim.ButBosewasscepticalabouttheboy’sabilitytokeeppeoplehappyforlong.Whateverhisskills,
politicswasn’toneofthem.Andintheendabilityandtalentwerenothinginthefaceofpolitics.Itmighthavebeenusefultohavealetterinhisbackpocket.‘Areyousure?’‘Yeah,’saidCale,touching
himselfjustunderthechinwiththeflatofhisrighthand.‘I’muptoherewithsureness.’‘Isthatsupposedtobe
somesortofpleasantryatmyexpense?’‘No.’‘Andareyoualsosurethat
youhavethementocreateyourNewModelArmy?’‘Yes.’‘BecauseIhave
experiencedandknowledgeableadvisorswhosayit’snotpossibletocreateanarmyoutofpeasants,notingeneralandcertainlynot
onecapableofbeatingtheRedeemers.Let’snotevenconsiderthelackoftimeinvolved.’‘They’reright.’‘Isee.Butit’spossiblefor
you?’‘Yes.’‘Why?’‘AttheGolantheLaconics
inflictedthegreatestdefeatontheRedeemersintheirhistory.Tendayslaterthe
RedeemersinflictedontheLaconicsthegreatestdefeatoftheirs.Thedifferencewasme.’Calehadbeenslumpedinsolentlyinhischairbutnowstretchedupright.‘IsthatsneakbehindthescreengoingtojoininoramIgoingtohavetogooverthereanddraghimout?’Bosesighed.‘Comeout.’
Ayoungman,smilingamiablyandinhisearly
twenties,emerged.ItwasRobertFanshawe,Laconicscout.Calehadlastseenhimwhenthey’dcutadealoverprisonersafterthebattlehe’djustbeenboastingabout.‘Youdon’tlookwell,Cale,
ifyoudon’tmindmesaying.’‘Idomind.’‘Youdon’tlookwellall
thesame.’‘Well,’saidBoseIkard.
‘Atleastitprovesyouknow
him.’‘Knowhim?’said
Fanshawe.‘We’respecialpals.’‘No,we’renot!’saidCale,
hisalarmathowthismightbetakendelightingFanshawewholaughed,revellinginhisdiscomfort.‘DoMrCale’sclaims
abouthisimportancetotheRedeemervictoryhavemerit?’
‘I’mnotclaiminganything,’saidCale.Fanshawelookedathim,cool,notlaughinganymore.‘Yes,thisyoungmanwas
thedifference.’‘Sowhyareyousosurehis
NewModelArmywillfail?’‘Therehavebeenpeasant
rebellionsaslongastherehavebeenpeasants,’saidFanshawe.‘Tellmeonethatsucceeded?’Helookedat
themboth,headmockinglyturned,waitingforareply.‘TheLaconicshavefoughtsixwarsagainstourHelotsinthelasthundredyears–ifyoucancalltheslaughterofuntrainedhillbilliesawar.Itendsoneway.Always.’‘Notthistime,’saidCale.‘Why?’‘I’drathershowthantell.’‘Excellent.Ilookforward
toyourpresentationofthe
details.’‘No.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’said
BoseIkard.‘I’mnotgivinga
performancesoyourduncesgettooffermethebenefitoftheirexperience.There’sgoingtobeafightandwhoever’sleftstandingattheendwinstheargument.Onehundredeachside.’‘Therules?’
‘Therearenorules.’‘Arealfight?’‘Isthereanyotherkind?
Bringwhoyoulike,howyoulike.’‘Andyou’lljusthaveyour
peasants?’‘I’llbringwhoeverIdamn
wellplease.’Butitwastoohardtoresist.‘There’llbeeightyplebsandtwentyofmyveterans.’‘Andyou?’
‘I’llbewatchingFanshawegettingtheshitkickedoutofhim.’‘Me?I’mjustaLaconic
advisor.Icouldn’tpossiblytakepart.’BoseIkardwassuspicious,
always,butconsideredthatperhapsitwasforthebest:hewantedtoknowwhatCalewasuptoanditwashardtothinkofabetterwaythansomethinglikethis.There
wereSwisssoldierswhofelttheydeservedrecognitionbeforesomemiserable-lookingboy.Nowthey’dhavethechancetoproveit.‘I’llgetbacktoyou,’he
said.‘Closethedooronyourwayout,MrCale.Aword,MrFanshawe.’
24
ThesuncameuponthemorningofConn’sexecutionwithasmuchwarmthandhoneyedlightasifithadbeentheJubileecelebrationsofamuch-lovedmonarch.Atteninthemorninghewastaken
fromhiscellintheSwarthmore,thendowntotheWestGateandthroughtheParcBeaulieutotheplaceofexecutionontheQuaidesMoulins.Fiveofhismen,butnotVipond,orhiswife,walkedwithhim,bareheadedandunarmed.ThereheateapieceofbreadanddrankaglassofwineintheVetchGallery.Frombeforedawnahugecrowdhadbeen
gatheringinordertogetthebestplacesfromwhichtoseetheaction.Alongwiththeusual
excitementofacrowdwhodelightedinthehideoussufferingofafellowhumanbeingwasaddedthehatredofcitizenswhoheldConnMaterazziresponsiblenotonlyforthedefeatatBexbutfortheirjustifiedfearthatinthespringofnextyearthe
Redeemerswouldbedoingverymuchthesametothemastheywerenowabouttodotohim.Abrassbandofsorts,
sponsoredbythecity’sbiggestpie-maker,beltedoutroughversionsofpopularsongsandblaringversionsofboastfulmartialanthemsaboutSwitzerlandersneverbeingslaves.Thecrowdwasapeculiarmixtureof
unequals:do-bads,thieves,tartsandlollygaggers,carpentersandshopkeepers,merchantsandtheirwivesanddaughtersand,ofcourse,aspeciallyerectedterraceforthosewhoreallymattered.Inall,itwassuchacrushofspitefulhumanitythatthosenotusedtoitsufferedterribly,namelythewivesanddaughtersofthegentilitywhofaintedintheheatand
hadtobecarriedoutwiththeirplungingnecklinesalldisordered,whichgotthedrunkapprenticesgoing(‘GETYOURTITSOUTFORTHELADS!’).Asalways,itwasabaddayforcats:atleastadozenwerethrownintotheairtobellowingshoutsaroundthegreatspaceinfrontoftheplaceofexecution.Ingeneral,throughoutthe
FourQuarters,judicialdeathcameaboutthroughhanging,beheadingwithanaxeorburning–sometimesallthree,ifyouwereparticularlyunfortunate.ButinSpanishLeeds,commonerandaristocratwerebothbeheadedafterapeculiarmannerandbyamostunusualexecutioner.FormallyitwascalledtheLeedsGibbetbutthepolloicalleditTopping
Bob.Itconsistedofaframeofwoodaboutsixteenfoothighandfourfootwideboltedintoalargeblock.ItwassomethinglikeaFrenchguillotine,althoughmuchbiggerandmuchcruder.ButunliketheguillotinethereisnosingleexecutionerfortheLeedsGibbet:therearemany.Oncetheblockandaxeispulledtothetopoftheframeandheldwithapin,therope
holdingthepininplaceishandedouttoanyofthepeoplebelowwhocangetagraspofit.Thosewhocan’tstretchouttheirhandstoshowthattheyassentandagreetotheexecution.This,then,wasthesightthatwaitedforConnashesteppedoutontotheplatformandhisdeath.Hisshirtofblacksilkhad
beencutaroundthecollar
withoutmuchskilltoleavehisneckvisible.Blacksilkshirts,thentheheightoffashion,wereunpopularformanyyearsafterwards.Thegibbet,ofcourse,dominatedthesceneandifbeautyistheshapethatmostconveysthepurposeofanobjectthenitsuglinesswasbeautiful.Itlookedlikewhatitwas.ItwasapitythatnoneofConn’sfriendshadbeen
allowedoutontotheplatformwithhim:hedeservedsomeonetowitnesshisbraveryinthefaceofthatawfuldevice.Perhapsthereweresomeinthecrowd,notmany,whosensedtheyoungman’scourage.Itwastruethathe’dshowngreatcourageinbattlebutthatwascourageshownwhereallaroundweretoshareapartinthesamefate;wheretherewasfearbut
alsofellowfeelingandtheprospectofhonourandpurpose.Hereitwasallisolationamongthetauntsandthecruelty;givingpeoplethepleasureofwatchinghideoussufferinginflictedwithoutrisktothemselves.Buttherewasatleastonepersontherewhoadmiredhim,whoknewtheinjusticeandunfairness,thewrongnessofhisdeath.Calewasinthe
belltowerofStAnne’scathedral,whichlookeddownonthesquare–adistancefromthegibbetofaboutfiftyyardsandahundredandthirtyfeethigh.HewasaloneandsmokingoneofthefineSwisscigars,aDiplomatNo.4,towhichhehadbecomeaddictednowthathecouldaffordthemeveryday.Hecouldn’thavetoldyouhowhefelt–notsicktohis
stomach,ashe’dbeenatthedeathoftheMaidofBlackbirdLeys,butakindofdeadtranquillityinwhichheseemed,paradoxically,alivetoeverything:themockingobscenities,thewhistles,themansmilingatConnandholdingtwofingerstohisforehead,delightinginthehorrortocome.Buthealsofeltremoved,asifthetowerhadtakenhimabovethefog
ofmaliceandpleasurebelow.Asmalltribeofdogschasedeachother,barkinghappily,inandoutofthelegsofthesoldierswhofacedthecrowdfromtheplatform,notarmedbutcarryingdrums.Connwaitedtobe
instructedwhattodo.Acurateapproachedhim.‘IthasbeenagreedthatyoumayspeakbutI’mwarningyounottosayanythingagainst
theCrownorthepeople.’Connmovedforward.The
noiseofthecrowddiminishedalittle–agoodspeechcouldbedinedouton.Thirtyyardsawaythe
bookiesattheirtrestlesweretakingbetsonhowmanyspurtsofbloodthere’dbe.‘Ihaven’tcomehereto
talk,’saidConn,startledbythefirmnessofhisvoiceashisstomachsurged.‘I’ve
comeheretodie.’‘Speakup,’shouted
someoneinthecrowd.‘I’dbeheardlittleifI
shoutedmyselftodeath.I’llbebrief–I’dprefertosaynothingifitweren’tthatgoingtomydeathsilentlywouldmakesomementhinkIsubmittedtotheguiltaswellastothepunishment.Idieinnocent…’UpinthetowerCaleheard
theword‘innocent’butnothingmoreasthecuratesignalledthedrummerstodrownoutConn’saccusationofinjustice.Whetherhecutitshortbecauseofthedrumsorhedidn’thavemuchtosay,Connfinishedandwalkedtowards,ifnottheexecutionerexactly,atleastthemanresponsiblefortheworkingsofthegibbet.‘Ihopeyousharpenedthe
bladeasdutyobligesyou.AndI’llhavemyheadcutoffattheneckandnottoppedlikeaneggasIhearyoudidwithmyLordtheCavalierofZurich.Botchitandthere’llbenotip.Seeitdoneproperlyandyou’llbegladyoukilledConnMaterazzi.’‘Thankyou,zir,’saidthe
almost-executioner,whodependedonsuchtipsforpayment,‘wehaveanew
doingstopreventsuchhanunfortunatethinghappenin’agayne.’Connwalkedtothegibbet,
tookadeepbreathasiftoswallowbackhisterror,andkneltdown,hisneckfittingintoaclearlybrandnewsemi-circlemadeinthewood.Thenewcrossplankabovewasswiftlyputinplacewiththematchinghalfofthecircleandlockedintoposition.
Abovehim,theflatbladeinitsheavywoodenblockwasheldinplacebytwopins,eachoneattachedtoaseparaterope.Oneofthepinswasheldinplacebyaclipanditwastheropeleadingfromthisonethatthegibbet-masterthrewintothecrowd.Hewaiteduntilthescrabbleforahandholdontheropewasfinishedthenwentupaladderplacedagainstthe
gibbetandputhisrighthandtotheclipholdingthepininplace,sothatnooneinthecrowdcouldprematurelypullitout.Headdressedthepeople.‘Iwillcounttothree–any
man’shandnowontheropethatstaysontheropeafterthecountofthreewillbewhipped.’Satisfiedthatthoseholdingtheropewereincommandofthemselveshe
calledout:‘One!’‘TWO!’shoutedbackthe
crowd.‘THREE!’Hewhippedtheclipfree
withagreatflourish.Theropeandpinwhipped
loose,theblockandbladerattledintherailandstruckwithadreadfulbang.Conn’sheadshotfromthegibbetasifit’dbeenlaunchedfromaslingandflewovertheplatformandintothecrowd,
vanishingamongtheSundaybestofthemenandwomenoffashion.Calestareddownfora
moment.Whythis?hethought.Whylikethis?thenheturnedaway,droppedwhatwasleftofthecigaronthestonefloorandleft.Butjustashecouldsee
whathadhappened,Calecouldalsobeseen.Afterwardsitwasputabout
thathehadnotonlysmokedduringConn’sdeathbutthathehadlaughedatthehorribleconclusion.Intimethisdidgreatdamagetohisreputation.
Arbellwasstandingatthefarendoftheroom,staringoutofthewindowandholdingherbabytightly,slowlyrockingbackwardandforward.
ToRibaandherhusbanditseemedlikeaverylongwalkindeed.Theystoppedafewfeetaway;bothsaidaftertheyhadleftitwasasiftheveryairbetweenthemandArbelltrembledwithterrorandheldthemback.‘Isitfinished?’‘Yes.’‘Didhesuffer?’‘Itwasveryquickandhe
wascalmandshowedgreat
courage.’‘Buthedidn’tsuffer?’‘No,hedidn’tsuffer.’SheturnedtoRiba.‘Youweren’tthere?’Itwas
anaccusation.‘No,Iwasn’tthere,’Riba
said.‘Iwouldn’tlether.’Arthur
Wittenbergthoughthewashelping.Hewasnot.‘OfcourseIcouldn’tgo,I
couldn’t,’saidRiba,
reassuring.‘Ishouldhavegone,’said
Arbell.‘Ishouldhavebeenwithhim.’‘Hewouldhavehated
that,’saidRiba.‘Hatedit.’‘Hemadeitveryclearto
me,’saidWittenberg,‘lastnightwhenIspoketohimthathewouldn’tcountenanceyourbeingthere–underanycircumstance.’Aliewasseldomtoldso
clumsily.ButArbellwasnotinanystateofmindtojudgeverymuchofanything.Thebaby,whohadbeenverycalmbecausehelikedbeingheldtightly,startedtowriggle.‘Yaaaaaaaaach!’shoutedthebaby.‘Bleeuch!’FinallyhemanagedtofreehisrightarmandstartedpullingonalockofArbell’shair.Yank.Yank.Pull.Pull.Shedidn’tseemtonotice.
‘ShallItakehim?’Arbellturnedawayfrom
Ribaasifitwereanoffertoremovethechildpermanently.Gentlysheunfastenedthebaby’shandsfromherhair.Atthedooraservantcalled
out,‘LadySatchellto…’Buttheendofhissentence
wasdrownedinthedramaticbustleandnoisinessofthewomanherself.
‘Mydarlinggirl,’sheweptfromtheothersideoftheroom.‘Mydarlinggirl…whatacauchemor,whatanagmerrie,akosmorro!’NosinglelanguagewasenoughforLadySatchelltoperformherselfin.Shewasknown,evenamongtheMaterazzienne,astheGreatBlurter.Therewasnosituationthat,byherinstantappearance,shecouldnot
puffupwithhysteria.Noteventhisone.‘Iamsosorry,mydear,’
shesaid,graspingArbelltoherchest.NotremblingshieldofgriefwouldputLadySatchelloff.ShenomoresawArbell’spainthanthebullseesthespider’sweb.‘Itwasdreadful,strasny!Terribile!Thepoorboy–toseethathandsomeheadgoweerkatsdowntheQuaidesMoulins.’
FortunatelythesheerpowerofSatchell’shystericalcapacityforstirringcausedhertoshiftintoAfrikaanssothatArbellbarelyunderstoodwhatshewastalkingabout.‘Andthatmostruoso
ThomasCale–IheardfromonewhowaswithhimhelaughedattheMiseroConnashediedandsmokedacigarandblewringsathisdisgraziafocorpse.’
Arbellstaredather.Itwashardtoimaginethatsomeonewouldgosowhiteandstilllive.Ribatookherbytheelbow,pulledherphysicallyaway,whispering,‘Shutyourmouth,youheartlessbitch!’andsignalledtothetwoservantsatthedoor.‘Whatareyoudoing?I’m
herdearcousin.Whodoyouthinkyouare,youtoiletscrubbingslutto…’
‘Getherawayfromhere,’saidRiba,totheservants.‘AndifIseeherhereagainI’llmakeyoubothwishyou’dneverbeenborn.’LadySatchellwasso
startledatbeingmanhandledbytheservantsnowgleefullylicensedtomistreatoneoftheirbettersthatshewasoutsidebeforeshecouldstartflappinghermouthagain.Ribawalkedbacktoher
formermistress,workingoutherstory.‘Isittrue?’Hervoiceso
quietRibacouldbarelyhearher.‘Idon’tbelieveit.’‘Butyouheardit,too?’‘Yes.ButIdon’tbelieveit,
notaword.It’snotlikehim.’‘It’sexactlylikehim.’‘Hesavedmylife.He
savedConn’slifetoo,foryoursake.’
‘AndheperjuredhimselfagainstConnbecausehethinksIbetrayedhim.TherewasnothingelseIcoulddo.Butyoudon’tknowhimwhenhe’sagainstyou–whathe’scapableofdoing.’Tornbetweenthetwoof
themasshewas,Riba’sfirstthoughtswerenotgeneroustoherformermistress.Ifyouhadn’tbetrayedhim,Connwouldstillbealive.
Everythingwouldhavebeendifferent.Ofcourse,partofherknewthatthiswasunfair,butitdidn’tstopitfrombeingtrue.‘Itoldyou.Idon’tbelieve
awordofit.’Butthiswasnotentirelythecase.Whichofus,onhearingthatourclosestfriendhadbeenarrestedforadreadfulcrime,wouldnotthink,buriedinthedeepestrecessofoursoul,hiddenin
theshadowsconcealedinourheart’smostcrepuscularoubliette,thatitmightpossiblybetrue?HowmucheasierthenforArbelltobelievethatCalehadlaughedatherdarlinghusbandashedied.SheshouldnotbeblamedforthislackoffaithinCale–it’sonlyhumantohatethepersonyouhavehurt.
‘Isittrue?’
‘Soundsbad–soprobablyitis,’saidCale.TherewasnomistakingArtemisia’ssuspiciousandangrytone.‘Answerme.Didyou
laughatConnMaterazziwhenhedied?’He’dmanyyearsof
practiceatnotgivingawayhisfeelings–controlofspontaneousemotionswasamatterofsurvivalattheSanctuary–butalessangry
personthanArtemisiamighthavenoticedhiseyeswidenattheaccusation.Notforlongandnotbymuch.‘Whatdoyouthink?’he
said,casual.‘Idon’tknowwhatto
think,that’swhyI’maskingyou.’‘Thethingis–Iwasinthe
toweronmyown.Icouldhavesacrificedagoatinthereandnoonewouldhave
known.’‘Youstillhaven’tanswered
thequestion.’‘No.’‘Nowhat?’‘No,Ididn’tlaughatConn
Materazziwhenhedied.’Andwiththathestoodup
andleft.
‘I’mimpressed,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Because?’
‘It’snotlongagothatyouwouldhavetoldheryoudidlaughatConn,justtopunishherforasking.’‘Ithoughtaboutit.’‘Ofcourseyoudid.’‘Whywouldshebelieve
somethinglikethat?’‘Youarewidelyreferredto
astheExterminatingAngel.It’snotsosurprisingthatpeoplefailtogiveyouthebenefitofthedoubt.Besides,
thetimesneedamanwithareputationforunmitigatedcruelty–peoplewanttofeelthatwithsuchacreatureontheirsidetheymighthaveachanceoflivingthroughthenextyear.’‘Buttheydon’tknowme.’‘Tobefair,it’snotaneasy
thingtodo–knowyou,Imean.’‘Sheshouldbynow.’‘Really?Sheknowsyou
liedunderoathwithasmucheaseasifyouweretellinganoldwomanthatyoulikedherhat.’‘Notthatagain.Whatwas
Isupposedtodo?IfI’dconfessedwe’dbothhavehadourheadsbouncingacrossthesquare.’‘Iagree.Butforallher
eccentricskills,Artemisiadoesn’tunderstandthingsastheyreallyare.She’soneof
them.Themoremoneyyouhave,thenicertheworldis;ifyouhavemoneyandpowertheworld’snicenessisalmostheavenly.Tosuchpeopletheworld’scrueltyisanaberrationnotthenormalstateofthings.You’vehadthegoodfortunenevertobelievethatanythingwasfair.Youmustallowhertimetolearnthatshe’slivinginanotherworldnow.She
hasn’thadyourdisadvantages.ThespiritofthetimesusedtomovethroughherandConnandtheKing–nowitmovesthroughyou.Thisisyourtime,forhoweverlongitlasts.’‘Meaning?’‘There’llcomeatime
whenitisn’t.’‘When?’‘Hardtosay.Thethingis
thatwheneveritcomestoan
25
There’snotmuchtobesaidforbeingsick,exceptthatifyou’resickforlongenoughitgivesyouendlessopportunitiestothink.Forthepermanentlyunwelltherearenotenoughdistractionstofill
theendlessdaysand,besides,illnesscandrainyoueasilyoftheenergyyouneedtoreadorplayagame.Thenyoumustthink,evenifit’sthedriftingsortofthinkingthatfloatsyouaimlesslyfrompasttopresent,frommealseaten,loverskissed,tonightsofhumiliation,bitterregrets.Calehadatalentforthiskindofthing.InthemadhouseruledbyKevinMeatyardhe
hadbeenabletousetheskillshonedintheSanctuaryforallthoseyearstogointohidingsomewhereinsidehishead.Butinthosedayshe’dbeenasignorantoftheworldasastone:therewashishideousreallifeandhisimaginaryworldwhereeverythingwaswonderful.Nowthedriftingdaydreamswereallmixedupwiththenumerousthingsthathadhappenedtohimsince
then.Daydreamingwasnotsomuchapleasureanymore.Sohetriedtothinkofusefulthings–themullingofideas,thebeatingoutofplansandworkingupofnotionsthathadhebeenwellhewouldhavebrushedtothebackofhismindandlefttothedust.Thereligionoftheupper
classesoftheSwissandtheirallieswasanoddaffair.Ithadcomeasaconsiderable
surprisetoCalethattheyalsoworshippedtheHangedRedeemer–butasthetrueRedeemershadcreatedareligionfullofsinandpunishmentandhell,ofthingsthatfilledeverywakingmoment,thereligionoftheSwissaristocratsandmerchantshaddevelopedinmoreorlesspreciselytheotherdirection:beyondchurchonSundays,weddings
andfunerals,thereseemedtobenospecificdemandsmadenoranyreferencetothedireconsequencesthatwouldresultfromfailingtomeettheseloosely-hinted-atsuggestions.Butthiswasnotthecasewiththeworkingpeopleandthepeasants.Thelatterinparticularwereextremelyreligious,somuchsothattheyhadalargenumberofcreedstoservice
thembutatthebottomofthemallwastheHangedRedeemer.Thougheachsectconsidereditselftobethesoletrueheirofhisbeliefs,theyrecognizedtovaryingdegreesthattheybelongedtoafamily.ButonethingthatunitedthemwastheiruniversalloathingfortheRedeemersthemselves,whomtheyregardedascorrupt,idol-worshipping,
usurping,murderousheretics.WhateverthedifferencesbetweenthePlainPeopleandtheMillerites,theTwobyTwosandtheGnosticJennifers,CalehadtalkedtoenoughofthemtoknowthattheircommitmenttodestroyingtheRedeemerswasofakindwheredeathwouldbeaprivilegeratherthanaprice.Whateverhisownfeelingsaboutmartyrs
hewasusedtomakingthemworkforhim.Itwasacurrencythatheunderstood.ItwasnownearlythreeweeksafterthedeathofConnMaterazzi,andhehadusedthetimetopersuadethevariousheadsoftheimportantreligiousfactions(Moderators,Pastors,Archimandrites,Apostles)thathewasasdeeplycommittedtodestroyingthe
RedeemersandtheirhideousperversionofthetrueteachingsoftheHangedRedeemerasonlysomeonewhohadsufferedpersonallyundertheiryokecouldbe.FortunatelythisdidnotrequireHanseaticdiplomaticskills:theywereonlytooreadytobelieveinhim.AndhencewhyallofthemwerepresentontheSilverFieldatteninthemorningtowitness
theveryfarfrommockbattlebetweenCale’sfledglingNewModelArmyandtheSwiss.AlsopresentwereVagueHenri,IdrisPukke,KleistandastillfrostyArtemisiaHalicarnassus.Standingtooneside,lookingsuspicious,wasBoseIkardandanassortmentofnewlyappointedSwissgenerals,elevatedtotheirnewpositionscourtesyofthecull
oftheirformerseniorofficersnowrottinggentlyinthegravepitsatBex.Thedayafterthemeeting
withBoseIkardandFanshawe,Calehadwrittentodemandthat,asthefateofseveralnationshungonhissuccessfulattempttocreatethisNewModelArmy,thefightofhisonehundredagainstthatoftheSwissKnightsshouldbefought
withsharpweaponsandwithoutrules,exceptthatsurrenderwouldbepermissible.AsintendedthisalarmedtheSwisswho,rightlysuspicious,demandedthatonlybluntpracticearmsbeused.Calerefused.Eventuallyacompromisewasreached:unsharpenedweapons,nospikesorpoints,andcrossbowboltsandarrowstohavedulltipsand
barstopreventdeepentry.Thedaybeganwitha
strangeincidentinvolvingCale,whichinthetellingandre-tellinggaverisetoapeculiarlegend.ThepersoninvolvedwasonlyaveryminormemberofthecountryaristocracywhohadarrivedinSpanishLeedsthenightbeforeandhadmanagedtohangontothecoat-tailsofsomeprinceorotherandwas
enjoyingtheattentionofthevariousflunkeysseeingtotheneedsoftheassembledgentry.Notrealizingthatthewhite-facedboystandingnexttohiminhisplainblackcassockwastheincarnationoftheWrathofGodandall-roundexterminatingangel,hehadmistakenhimforaservantandpolitely,itmustbesaid,askedforaglassofwaterwithasliceoflemon.
Theservantignoredhim.‘Lookhere,’hesaidto
Calemoreforcefully.‘Getmeaglassofwaterandasliceoflemonanddoitnow.Iwon’taskyouagain.’Theservantlookedathim,eyesblazingwithanincredulityanddisdainthathetookfortheworstkindofdumbinsolence.‘What?’saidCale.Thenewlyarrivedcountry
toffwasanxiousnottoberegardedasabumpkinofthekindwhowouldallowhimselftobeintimidatedbyadogsbodyandtookthestunnedsilencefromthosearoundtosignalthattheywerewaitingtoseewhetherhewasuptodealingwithinsolencefromaservant.HefetchedCaleanenormousblowtothesideofhisface.Therefollowedaparalysed
stillnessthatmadetheprevioussilenceseemraucous.Itwastheprincewho’dinvitedhimwhobrokeit.‘MyGod,man,thisis
ThomasCale.’Thereisnoadjectiveinany
languagefittodescribethewhitenessofthecountrygentleman’sfaceastheblooddrainedintohisboots.Hismouthopened.Theothers
waitedforsomethinghorribletohappen.Calelookedathim.There
wasalongpause,adreadfulsilence,suddenlybrokenwhenCaleletoutasingleloudbarkofamusement.Thenhewalkedaway.
EachsidehadbeenallowedfortyhorsesandwhentheSwissenteredthefieldtheycertainlylookedimpressive,
thehorsespullingattheirbits,anxioustogeton,andbesidethemseventyknightsonfoot,armourcarapacessparklinginthemorningsun.Beautiful.Formidable.Theytookupalineandwaited.Notforlong.Fromtheothersideoftheparkwhatlookedlikeapeasantwagoncameintoview,andanotheroneafteritandanother–fifteeninall.Eachonewasledbytwo
heavyshirehorses,biggerthanthehuntersriddenbytheknightsbyhalfasmuchagain.Astheyapproacheditbecameclearthatthesewerenottheusualwagonsforcarryinghayorpigs–theyweresmaller,thesidesslantedandtheyhadroofs.Bycontrast,thefifteenwagonswereflankedbytenofArtemisia’shorsescouts,slightmenonfastand
famouslyagileManipurponies.Theywerecarryingcrossbows,notaweaponusedmuchinHalicarnassus.They’dbeendesignedbyVagueHenriforuseonhorseback–light,nothinglikeaspowerfulashisownoverstrungbutverymucheasiertodrawandload.Thewagonscametotheirmarkedplaceandthencurvedroundintoacircle.Thedriversleapt
offandunhitchedthehorses,pullingthemintothecentre.Thegapbetweenthewagonswasnotverygreatasthehorseshadbeencarefullytrainedtooffsetthembeforetheywereunharnessed.Eachdriverquicklyremovedadetachablewoodenshieldhungfromthebackofthewagons,whichtheyslottedbetweenthemsothatnowthewagonsandshieldsformeda
continuouscirclewithoutgaps.TheSwisslookedon,some
amused,themoreintelligentsuspicious.Theonlywaythroughthewagonswasthroughthespacesunderneath–butthiswassoonclosedasfourmoreplanksofwoodwereloweredthroughslotsinthefloor.Foramomentnothinghappened.Thentherewasashoutfrom
insidethecircleandtheoutridersstartedfiringtheircrossbowsattheSwissranks.VagueHenri’sdesignmighthavebeenlesspowerfulbutfromahundredyardsthebolts,bluntastheywere,hitthemassedranksofarmouredmenwithaferociousclang.TheSwisshadonlybroughttenarchersandtheyweretrainedforshootingatmassedranks,nottenmenonagile
horses.Inafive-minuteexchangeonlytwoNewModelArmyriderswerehit,painfullyenoughanddrawingblood,buttheythemselveshitmorethantwentyoftheSwiss.Theirarmourandthebluntnessoftheboltspreventedanydeepwoundsbutitwasclearthatarealboltwouldhavekilledorbadlywoundednearlyallofthem.Afterfiveminutestherewasa
trumpetburstfromthewagonsandtheoutridersmovedbacktothecircle.Awoodenshieldwasremovedtolettheminandtheyweregone.Thenthreeotherwalls
weretakenoutandabouttwentymenwithmalletsandstakesrushedoutandbeganhammeringthemintotheground.ThiswasmoretotheSwissarchers’taste,but
beforetheycouldstartshooting,volleyaftervolleyofarrowsemergedfromthecentreofthewagons,causinghugeconfusionandyetmoreconsiderableinjurytothelightlyarmouredSwissarchers.Underthisfearsome
protectivecover,thepeasantsknockinginthepostsfinishedthejobandranbacktothesafetyofthewagons,leaving
behindthewoodenstakesconnectedbythinropeswithsharpmetalbarbswovenintothemeverysixinches.Theoddthingaboutthiswasthatthestakesandbarbedropesonlycoveredaboutaneighthofthecircle,leavingtheattackersfreetogoroundthisunpleasantobstacle.Itwashardtoseethepoint.Withthearrowsstill
rainingonthem,theSwiss
hadnochoicebuttoadvanceandtakethewagonsinhand-to-handcombat.Thebluntedarrowswerenothingmorethannuisancevaluetomeninsuchhigh-qualityarmourandfightingclosewastheirlife’swork.Skirtingthebarbedropes–severaloftheknightsslashedatthemastheywentpastbutwirehadbeenthreadedthroughtheropetopreventsuchaneasycure–
theyapproachedthewagons,determinedtobreaktheirwayinandgivetheoccupantsabloodygoodthrashing.Althoughthewagonswereneitherparticularlybignortall,oncetheywereclosethereseemednoobviousoreasywayin.Astheyapproachedtheynoticedsmallsquareholesinthesidesofthewagons–sixineach.Outofthem,crossbow
boltsshatteredintothem,devastatingatsuchshortrangedespitetheirbluntness.Andfasttoo–onefiredeverythreeorfourseconds.Theywereforcedtocomerightuptothewagonsidestograspthewheelsandheavethemover.Butthewheelshadbeenhammeredintothegroundwithhoopsofsteel.Thentheroofsofthewagonswereheavedupandcrashedover
thesideonahingewithbluntedspikesontheleadingedge,designednottopiercethearmourofanyonetheyhitbuttodealacrushingblow.Dozensofarmsandheadswerebrokeninthismove.Thenthereasonforthelowheightofthewagonsbecameclearer.Ineachthereweresixpeasants,armedwiththewoodenflailsthey’dbeenusedtousingalltheirlivesas
muchastheSwissprofessionalsoldiershadusedswordsandpoleaxes.Evenwithouttheadditionofthenailsthatwouldhavebeenusedinarealfight,theheadoftheflailmovedwithsuchferociousspeedthatitcrushedhandsandchestsandheadsalike,armouredornot.Andstilltheboltskeptcoming.Theymaynothavebeenabletokillbutthey
causedterriblepainanddeepbruising.TheSwisswerehardlyabletolandablowinreturn.Thekillingrangeofafewfeettheywereusedto,dictatedbythelengthofaswordorpoleaxe,hadbeenextendedbyCalebynomorethanafewfeet–butitwaseverything.Mentheycouldhavedismemberedinafewsecondsintheopenweremadeuntouchablebystrong
woodandafewextrafeetinheight.Andnowtheywerevulnerabletoaninsultingcollectionofmodifiedagriculturaltoolswieldedwithconfidenceandfamiliaritybymerepeasants.Afterfifteenminutesofpainanddamagetheywithdrew–angryandfrustrated,poisonouslyimpotent.Theirretreatwasconductedtoamockingbutstillpainful
volleyofbluntarrowsfromadozenofCale’sPurgatorsuntilhesignalledthemtostop.HewatchedwithgreatpleasureastheSwissgeneralswenttoinspectthedamagetotheirbaffledelite.Hewasgraciousenoughnottogowiththem;evenfromfortyyardsaway,theeffectofthemetalflails,clubs,hammers,bluntwoodaxesandrockswasclear.
AftertenminutesofinspectionitwasFanshawewhowalkedbacktoCale,apparentlyaseasy-goingandfrivolousasusual;butthetruthwasthathewasshakenbytheimplicationsofwhathe’dseen.‘Iwaswrong,’hesaidto
BoseIkard.‘Itcouldwork.I’vegotquestionsthough.’‘AndIhaveanswers,’said
Cale.Theyadjournedtoa
meetinglaterthatday.OnthewayoffthefieldBoseIkardcaughtupwithFanshaweandspokequietly.‘Canthisreallywork?’‘Yousawforyourself.’‘Andwecanwin?’‘Possibly.Butwhatifyou
do?Whatthen?’‘Idon’tfollowyou.’‘You’veshownyour
hillbilliesthatthey’reasgoodastheirmasters.Arethey
goingtofightanddieintheirthousands–andtheywilldie–andthenjusthanditallback?Wouldyou?’Attheirmeetingthat
afternoontherewereagreatmanysurlyquestions,allofthemdealtwitheasilyenoughbyCale.Ifhe’dbeenthemhewouldhavemadethingsmuchmoreawkward–heknewtherewereweaknesseseveniftheycouldn’tsee
them.ThequestionsfromFanshawefailedtomaterialize:hecouldseetheflawstoo,butalsothattheycouldbemanaged.Caleansweredcalmlyandpleasantlyuntiltheverylastcomment–thesuggestionthatonceitwasamatteroflifeanddeaththepeasantswouldbreakinthefaceofbloodandmutilation.‘Thenbringyourmenback
tomorrowandwe’llfightwithsharpweapons,andnomercy,’saidCale,stillcalm.‘Youwon’tbebackforathirdtime.’BoseIkard,however,
thoughmullingoverthelong-termconsequencespointedoutbyFanshawe,sawthathehadnochoicebuttosupportCale:therewasnopointinlong-termthinkingiftherewasn’tgoingtobealong-
term.HesentawayhisnewHighCommandandgotdowntothedetailsofmoneyandtherequisitionpowersCaledemanded.Thisdidnotcomeeasilyto
theChancellor:givingawaymoneyandpowerwasphysicallypainfultohim.Buthe’dworryaboutgettingthemback,aswellasthedangersofanarmedandtrainedpeasantry,whenthis
wasallover.Bytheendofthemeeting,ThomasCalewasthemostpowerfullittleboyinthehistoryoftheFourQuarters.ItfelttoCale,astheletterwassigned,asifdeepinhispeculiarsoulasmallsweetspringofcoolwaterhadstartedtoflow.
Outside,Fanshawesignalledhimtooneside.‘Youwereveryquiet,’said
Cale.‘Professionalcourtesy,’
saidFanshawe.‘Didn’twanttopissonyourpageant.’‘Andyouthinkyoucould
have?’‘Howareyougoingto
supplythem?’‘Ohno!You’veseenthe
bigweakness–there’snofoolingyou.’Fanshawesmiled.‘Thenyouwon’thavea
problemanswering,willyou?’Tenminuteslaterthey
wereinanoldworkshopdeepintheslumsofSpanishLeedsandMichaelNevin,outdraggerandinventor,wasproudlyshowingoffoneofhisnewsupplywagons.Nowhehadmoneytobackhisingenuity,theresult,whilestilldistantlyrelatedtohisoutdraggercart,wasathing
ofeleganceandstyle.‘Moveit,’saidCale.Fanshawepickedupatwo-
wheeledcartbytheshaftsatthefront.Itwasmuchbiggerthantheoriginalitwasbasedon,andhewasastonishedathowlightitwas.Nevinwasapeacockpuffedwithpride.‘It’llshiftfourtimesasquickasthesupplywagonsthemjunkieRedeemersuse,tumrightenoughandheftnear
halfasmuch.Don’tover-packitandyouonlyneedonehorse’steadofsixbullocks.Pushcomestoshoveyoudon’tevenneedabeast–y’couldbudgeitwithfourmenandhalfacargoandstillresupplynearasquickastheRedeemers.I’msalivatin’rightenough.Haven’tImadeittobeallthingstoallmen.’Itwasastatementnotaquestion.
CalewasalmostasdelightedwithNevinasNevinwasdelightedwithhimself.‘MrNevinworkedwithme
onthewarwagonaswell.ItwashisideatocutdownthesizesotheycanmovemaybetwiceasfastastheRedeemersupplycarts.Theonlywaytheycanmovewithenoughspeedtofollowandattackusisbysendingmounted
infantryafterusbutwithoutsupplywagons.Eveniftheycatchup,Artemisia’soutriderswilltellushoursbeforetheyarrive.Wecircleup,digasix-foottrencharoundtheoutside,andwhatwilltheydo?Iftheyattackwe’llcutthemtopieces,worsethanwedidtoday.Iftheywait,theoutriderswillhaveriddenformoretroopstorelieveus.Remember,
there’llbetwohundredofthesefortsonthemoveeverydayofeveryweek.Eveniftheycanisolateoneanddestroyitwe’lltaketentimesasmanyofthemwithus.’‘Aseasyasthat?’‘No,’repliedCale.‘But
they’lllosetwomenforeveryoneofours.’‘Evenifyou’reright,andI
concedeyoumightbe,theRedeemersarereadytodiein
numbers–areyourhillbillies?’Calesmiledagain.‘We’llfindout,Isuppose.’‘Doyoureallythinkyou
canwinabattlewithyourwagons?’‘Don’tknowthateither,
butIdon’tintendtotry.It’slikeIdrisPukkesays:thetroublewithdecisivebattlesisthattheydecidethings.I’mnotgoingtocrushthe
26
AccordingtothegreatLudwig,thehumanbodyisthebestpictureofthehumansoulandso,likethebody,thehumanspirithasitscancersandgrowthsandinfectedorgans.Justasthepurposeof
theliveristoactasasumpforthepoisonsofthebody,thesoulhasitsorgansforcontainingandisolatingthetoxicdischargeofhumansuffering.Itisanaxiomofthe
hopefulthatwhateverdoesn’tkillyoumakesyoustrong:butthetruthisthatsuchdeadlysufferingcanbeheldinisolationinthispoisonreservoironlyforatime:like
theliveritcandealwithonlysomuchpoisonbeforeitbeginstorot.SurvivorsoftheSanctuary
hadalreadytakenmorethantheirdueshareofgrief.Addtothisthelossofhiswifeandchild,andthehorroroftheeventsinKitty’sbasement,andKleistwasonthebrinkofdrowninginhispast.ThedayafterthemockbattleonSilverFieldhewasdelivering
apairofbootshehadbeenworkingonforthecampaignahead(leatherworkhadbeenoneofKleist’sdesignatedskillsattheSanctuary)andwasheadingforthebootmakersinNewYorkRoad.BoscohaddrummedintoCalethatdecentbootswerethirdonlytofoodandweaponsforanarmy.Kleistwasheadingthroughthemarket,crowdedbecausethe
weeklyhorsefairwason,whenhebrushedpastDaisycarryingtheirson.Hewalkedonforafew
yardsandthenstopped.Hehadbarelytakeninthefaceoftheyoungwoman–he’dnotbeenlookingatherdirectlyandthey’dpassedinafractionofasecond–butsomethingshiveredinhim,eventhoughshewasolderandthinnerthanhisdead
wife,muchmoredrawn.Heknewitcouldnotbeher–herdustwasblowingaboutonaprairiethreehundredmilesaway–andhedidnotwanttolookagainanddraghismiseryoutofthedepths,buthecouldnotstophimself.Heturnedtostareatherasshemovedawaythroughthecrowd,babyonhip.Butshewasquicklyhiddeninthecrushofbuyersandsellers.
Hestoodstillasastumpandtoldhimselftogoafterher,butthenhetoldhimselftherewasnopoint.Ashiverofdesolationpassedthroughhim,hisgriefnowuncontainable,spreadingslowly,aslowandmalignantleak.Hestoodforamomentlongerbuthehadthingstodoandheturnedforthebootmaker’s.Butfromthatmomentinthemarketplace
Kleistwasonborrowedtime.
‘Sowhatdoyouthink?’Forthelasttenminutes
CalehadbeenwatchingRobertHookeexaminingafour-foot-longtubeofpigiron.‘Haveyoutriedtouseit?’
askedHooke.‘Me?No.Isawonelikeit
atBex.Thefirsttimeitfireditwentthroughthree
Redeemersatonego–thesecondtimeitblewupandkilledhalfadozenSwiss.Butifyoucouldmakeitworkit’dbeahellofathing.’Hookeeyedtheugly-
lookingcontraption.‘I’mastonisheditworkedatall.’‘Ofcourseyouare.’‘I’dneedalotofmoney.’‘Ofcourseyouwill.But
I’mnotstupid.Iknowyouwereworkingonatubefor
yourcollider.I’mnotpayingforyoutoresearchintothenatureofthings.’‘Youthinkallknowledge
mustbepractical.’‘Idon’tthinkanything
aboutknowledgeonewayortheother–whatIthinkaboutisnotbeingontopofabonfire,oneyou’llbejoiningmeonifwedon’tfindawaytostopBosco.Understand?’‘Oh,indeedIdo,MrCale.’
‘So,isitpossible?’‘It’snotimpossible.’‘Thengivemeabilland
getonwithit.’Calewalkedofftowardsthedoor.‘Bytheway,’calledout
Hooke.‘Yes?’‘Isittrueyoucutoffa
man’sheadbecausehetoldyoutobringhimaglassofwater?’
EvenforsomeoneassoundasaroachCale’sworkloadwouldhavebeenmurderousandhewasveryfarfromsound.Necessityforcedhimtodelegate.Therewerecandidatesenough:IdrisPukkeandareluctantCadbury(‘Ihavecriminalenterprisestorun’)couldbetrusted,Kleisteven,silentandgrimashewas,seemedtowantworktooccupyhis
mind.VagueHenriwaseverywheredoingeverything.Butitwasstillnotenough.HewentwithIdrisPukketoaskVipondforhishelp.‘I’msorryaboutConn.’‘Iam,’repliedVipond,
‘quiteclearthatyouhavenothingtobesorryfor.Therewasnochoice.’‘Ididn’tlaughathim.’‘Iknow.ButI’mafraidit
doesn’tmatter.Youmust
bringinBoseIkard.’‘How?’‘Yes…noteasy.He’san
ablemaninhiswaybuthehasthebesettingfaultofpower:it’sbecomeanendinitself.Andhe’saddictedtoconspiracy.Leavehimaloneforfiveminutesandhe’dstartplottingagainsthimself.’‘Ineedcontrolofthe
regulararmy,’saidCale.‘IthoughtIcouldbuildmyown
separateforce.Butitwon’tworkonitsown.Ineedtroopswhocanfightoutsidetheforts.’‘Iunderstandyoupromised
himotherwise.’‘Well,Iwaswrong.The
hillbilliesarefineaslongasthey’reprotectedbehindthewallsandoutofreach.Butawayfromthewagonsthey’reasdangerousasabaldporcupine.’
Vipondsaidnothingforamoment.‘Desperatesituations
requiredesperateremedies,’hesaidatlast.‘Trytellingthetruth.’‘Meaning?’‘Whatitsuggests.Befrank
withhim.Heknowshowdesperatethingsareoryouwouldn’tbewhereyouarenow.Pointouttohimthatyou’llsucceedtogetheror
you’lldietogether.OryoucouldtryblackmailifthatpersonCadburyhasanythingonhim.’‘Notenough,’said
IdrisPukke.‘Thenhonestyitis.’‘Andifhonestydoesn’t
work?’‘Assassination.’‘Ithoughtyousaiditnever
worked.’‘DidIsaythat?’
‘Yes.’‘Extraordinary.’ToCale’ssurprisehis
subsequentmeetingwithBoseIkardwasnotjustsuccessfulbutpleasurable.Lieshadtobeelaborateandtherewasalwayssomethingyouhadn’tthoughtoftocatchyouout.Itwasastrain,lying.Tellingthetruth,ontheotherhand,waseasy.Itwassotrue.Helikedtellingthetruth
somuchhedecidedthatonedayhe’dliketotellitagain.AndsoitturnedoutasVipondhadhoped:alackofchoicewoulddriveBoseIkardtowardssimplicity.‘IcantellyouthattheHigh
Commandwon’tbeconvinced.Theydon’twantanythingtodowithyou.’‘Thenthey’llhavetobe
replaced.’‘They’veonlyjustbeen
appointed.’‘Isthistrueofallofthem
orjustsomeofthem?’askedIdrisPukke.‘Ifyoucouldremovethe
triadthatmightbeenough.If.’‘Areyouaversetospecial
means?’‘Special?’‘Youknow:desperate
timesrequiredesperateremedies.’
Withintendays,tworesignationsandasuicidehadaccountedforthetriadbywayofKittytheHare’sredbooks.Asamatterofcourtesyandashowofgoodfaith,oneofthebookswashandedovertoBoseIkard,onethatcontainedsomeunorthodoxfinancialdealingsinvolvingBoseIkardhimself.IdrisPukkehad,ofcourse,madeacopy.
FordifferentreasontheLaconicsandtheRedeemersweresocietiesbuiltonthenotionthatwarwasaninevitableconstantofhumanexistence.TheAxisarmieswerejustarmies.Calewashelpedinhisreforms,however,bytheincreasingawarenessthatitwasnotdefeatthatwasatstakeinthewarbutannihilation.Thisawarenesswasmadeallthe
greaterbyreprintsofsermonsgivenintheGreatCathedralofChartresbyPopeBoscohimself.Inthem,Bosco,quotinginprecisedetailfromtheGoodBook,calledonhisfollowerstocarryoutGod’sexplicitcommandthat‘youshallnotleavealiveanythingthatbreathes.InMakkedahutterlydestroyitandallthesoulstherein.InLibnahdestroyitandallthesouls
therein;andinLuchishandEglonandHebronandDebir,theyutterlydestroyedallthemthatbreathedandtheydidnotspareany,puttingtodeathmen,womenandchildrenandinfants,cattleandsheepandcamelsanddonkeys.’Thereweresuggestions,
entirelytrueasithappened,thattheseblood-curdlingsermonswerefakes.But
thoughitwastruethattheyhadbeenmadeupbyCaleandVagueHenriandprintedinsecret,mostpeoplebecamereluctantlypersuadedtheywererealandfortworeasons.FromthefewrefugeeswhohadrecentlymadeitacrosstheMississippifromtheterritorynowoccupiedbytheRedeemers,therewerenumerousreportsofthemassevacuationofentirecities,
movingtothenorthandthenthewest.ButtherewasalsothedisturbingtruththatallthereligionsoftheFourQuarterssharedabeliefinthesameGoodBook,andthoughmostchosetoignorethemanyoccasionsonwhichGodhaddemandedthedivinemassacringofentirecountries,downtothelastdog,itwasnolongerpossibletodosoinquitethesame
way.Theinconvenienttruthwasthatthepromiseofanapocalypse,whetherlocal(ManHattan,Sodom)oruniversal(theendtimeofGeddon),waswovenintotheveryfabricoftheiroddlysharedbeliefs.Forthenextsixweeksit
wasducksoupallroundasCale’snewgovernmentdepartment,theOfficeAgainsttheRedeemers(the
OAR)founditselfpushingatopendoorseverywhere.PartlythiswasduetofearoftheRedeemersandpartlyfearofThomasCale:thestoryabouthimcuttingoffaman’sheadfororderinghimtobringadrinkofwaterwasnowacceptedtruth.‘Youhaveatalentforbeinglegendary,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Iwonderifthatcanbeentirelyagoodthing.’His
accesstoKittytheHare’sredbooksalsoencouragedco-operation.Afterthereplacementofthetriad,everyone,forthemoment,nowreliedfortheirpositiononThomas,withtheresultthatanewenthusiasmabouthisplansforeverythingbegantopermeatethehallsofpower.MuchwasdoneandmuchquickerthantheOARcouldhaveexpected.Butall
thisgoodnewscouldn’tlast,nordidit.Buttheblow,whenitcame,wasunexpectedinitsexpectedness.Twomonthsintotheir
preparationstheyhadplannedthefirstdeliveryofsuppliesoffood,uniforms,weaponsandthewagonssocentraltotheircampaign.Theboots,mostlydesignedbyCaleandKleist,hadbeencontractedindetailaccordingtoastrict
model–theRedeemerway.Thesamewiththefood.Thesamewiththeweapons–fromthehighqualitybutsimpleflailstothenewlycreatedcrossbowsdesignedforspeedofloadingandclosefightingratherthanpower.Standinginthefooddepot,wherethefirstlotofrationshadbeendelivered,Calewatchedasboxafterboxwasbrokenopentorevealtack
biscuitsinfectedwithmaggotsandweevils.Thosethatweren’twereeithertaintedbyrancidfatoradulteratedwithGod-knew-whattomakethemnotjustinedible(soldierscouldendurethemerelyinedibleiftheyhadto)butworthlessinprovidingenergytofightingmen.Inthepreviousfourhourshehadbeenthroughthesameroutinewithallthe
othersupplies:thebootswerealreadyfallingapart,thecrossbowscouldn’tfireaboltpowerfulenoughtobreaktheskinofachildsufferingfromrickets.Thewagonsseemedtobebuilttotheirspecificationsbutathirty-minuteridewithhalfadozenofthemshowedthey’dbarelylastaweekofserioususe.‘Iwantthoseresponsible,’
saidCale,ascoldasanyone
hadeverseenhim.Butthisturnedouttobea
gooddealtrickierthanitseemed.Corruptioninthematterofmilitarysupplieswasrootednotjustinthesuppliersbutinthepeoplethesupplierscorruptedinordertogetthecontracts.Itwassogrownintothebusinessofprocurementthatthoseinvolveddidnotthinkofitasfraud.Worsethanthefact
thatitwasaningrainedhabitwasthatcontrolofprocurementwasexclusivelyinthegiftofmembersoftheRoyalFamily.Itshouldnotbethoughtthattheyactuallydidanythingforthemoneyexceptendurethestrainofopeninguptheirpockets,buttheamounttheyexpectedfordoingnothingwassogreatthattheresimplywasn’tenoughmoneylefttoprovide
decentweaponsandfoodandmakeanykindofprofit.Warfareseemedalmost
easynexttothis.IftheOARcouldnotresupplyquicklyenough,andwiththerightqualityofequipmentforthelikelihoodofanearlyspringcrossingbytheRedeemers,theywerefinished.YetthepeopleresponsibleforcreatingthisdisasterwerebeyondCale’sreach.
‘There’snothingIcando,’saidBoseIkardwho,tobefair,sawtheproblemclearlyenough.‘Ithastostop.Ithastobe
takenoutoftheirhands.It’smad.Don’ttheyrealizetheRedeemerswilldestroythemaswell?’‘They’reroyal.Theirlives
arethemselvesaformofinsanity.Theyareprincesoftheblood–arealpower–an
anointedpowercreatedbyGodflowsthroughtheirveins.They’renotthesameasyouorme.’‘AndIthoughtthe
Redeemersweremad.’‘Welcometotherestofthe
world,’saidIkard.‘IfIintervenedI’dbeinacellwithinanhour.Whatgoodwouldthatdoyou?Theremustbeasolution.’‘Meaning?’
‘It’suptoyou.You’reinchargenow.’‘DoIhaveyoursupport?’‘No.Butwhateveryoudo,
makeitdazzle.’
GilhadknownforsometimethatCalehadmanagedtocoverhimselfwith,mostly,stolengloryfromthegreatRedeemervictoryatBex,buteverythinghecouldlearnwasvagueandgeneralized,not
muchbetterthanthegossippeopleknewonthestreets.Healsohadathird-handaccountofConn’strialandafirst-handaccountofhisexecution,alongwiththewidelybelievedrumourthatCalehadlaughedandsmokedasConn’sheadbouncedalongtheQuaidesMoulins.Ifonly,hethought,theclaimsmadeinSpanishLeedsaboutRedeemerspiesweretrue–
theonlypeoplehehadinhispaywerecriminals,theonlyfellowtravellerswereoutsidersandinadequates.ButGilwasbeginningtorealizethatitwasnolongeracaseofseparatingfactfromfictionwhenitcametoCale–itbecameimportantnottodismiss,howeverludicrous,thestoriesofhimbeingsevenfoottallorblindinganassassinbyholdinghishand
upintheair(thoughthestoryabouthimcuttingoffsomeone’sheadbecausethey’dtoldhimtogetthemaglassofwaterstruckhimasalltooplausible).SomethingaboutCalecausedpeopletoclothehimintheirhopesandfears–thefactthattheywereafraidofhimandyethadridiculousexpectationsofhisabilitytosavethemwerebounduptogether.Andit
wasn’tjustthestupidanddesperate–lookatBosco.HewasthecleverestmanheknewandyetnothingcouldshakehisbeliefinCale.Butthatdidn’tstopGilfromtrying.‘He’sbecomingpowerful,
YourHoliness.’‘Then,’saidBosco,‘it
showsthatIkardandZogaremoreintelligentthanIgavethemcreditfor.’
‘Heeitherknowsorcanguesswhatweintendtodo.Thisisagreatthreattous.’‘Notso,Ithink.His
knowledgeofourplantoattackthroughArnhemlandcouldhavebeenserious–butatthattimehewasnotabletopersuadeanyonetolisten.Nowwe’reattheMississippiinthenorthandhavesealedofftheBrunnerPasstoLeedsinthesouthit’sperfectly
obviouswhatwe’regoingtodo.Whatheknowsorcanguessdoesn’tmatter.’‘Onlywe’renotgoingto
befacingsomechinlesswonderofZog’s.Heknowswhathe’sdoing.’‘Ofcourse.Whatelse
wouldyouexpectfromtheLeftHandofGod?’HewassmilingbutGilwasnotsurewhatkindofsmileitwas.‘Whatdoesthefactthathe
directlyopposesussayaboutyourplantobringaboutthepromisedend?’‘Ithoughtitwasourplan–
andGod’splan.’Stillthesamesmile.‘Ideservebetter,Your
Holiness,thantobemockedforaslipofthetongue.’‘Ofcourse,Gil.Istand
corrected.ThePopebegsyourforgiveness.Youhavealwaysbeenthebestof
servantstotheharshestofallcauses.’Thesmilehadgonebutthe
toneofhisapologywasstillwrong.‘Whatdoesitmean,Your
Holiness,thatCaleisagainstus?’‘ItmeansthattheLordis
sendingusamessage.’‘Whichis?’‘Idon’tknow.It’smyfault
thatIcan’tseewhathe’s
tellingme–butafterallIamoneofhismistakes.’‘Whydoesn’thejusttell
you?’Thiswasdangerousstuffandoncehe’dsaiditGilwishedhe’dkepthismouthshut.‘BecausemyGodisa
subtleGod.Hemadeusbecausehedidnotwanttobealone–ifhehastotelluswhattodoandinterveneonourbehalfthenwe’reno
morethanpets,likethelapdogsoftherichslutsinSpanishLeeds.Godhintsbecausehelovesus.’‘Thenwhydestroyus?’Whynot,thoughtGilto
himselfassoonashesaidit,followupablasphemousquestionwithanevenmoreblasphemousone?Buthe’dnottakenintoaccounthowintelligenthisoddmasterwas.
‘Ihaveoftenthoughtthatmyself.Why,Lord,askmetodothisterriblething?’‘And?’‘Godmovesina
mysteriousway.IthinkperhapsheismoremercifulandlovingthanIhadthought.Iwasarrogant,’headdedbitterly,‘becauseIwassoangryatwhatmankindhaddonetohisonlyson.Inowbelievethatonceallourdead
soulsaregatheredtogetherheisgoingtoremakeus–butthistimeinhisownimage.Ithinkso.Ithinkthat’swhywemustdothisrevoltingthing.’‘Butyouaren’tsure?’Boscosmiled,butthistime
itwaseasytoread–itwasasmileofsimplehumility.‘Ireferyoutomyprevious
answer.’Itwascleartheaudience
wasoveranditwouldbebesttogetoutbeforehesaidsomethingevenmorestupid.Gilbowed.‘YourHoliness.’Hehadhishandonthe
doorwhenBoscocalledouttohim.‘Iwillhavesomeplans
senttoyouthisafternoon.’‘Yes,YourHoliness.’‘Itwilltakesomeeffortbut
I’msureit’snecessary–
bettersafethansorryandallthat.IwantyoutomovetheshipyardsontheMississippibackahundredmilesorso.’‘MayIaskwhy,Your
Holiness?’Hisvoiceclearlyshowedhethoughttheideawasabsurd–butBoscoseemednottonotice.Orhaddecidednotto.‘IfIwereCale,I’dtryand
destroythem.It’swisetobecautious,Ithink.’
Outside,ashewalkeddownthecorridor,onethoughtwasrepeatingitselfinGil’smind:Imustfindsomewaytoleavehim.
27
‘Whatwillyoudo?’saidIdrisPukke.‘Youdon’twanttoknow.’‘Youhaven’tthoughtof
anything,haveyou?’‘No,butIwill.’‘Becareful.’
‘Imeanttoask,’saidCale,‘ifyou’vefinishedtheplansaboutgoingoverthemountains?’‘Asnearas.’‘Wemightneedthem
soonerthanyouthink.’Hewasobviouslythinkingaboutsomethingelse.‘DoesthisplanincludethePurgators?’‘No.’‘Itshould.’‘You’vegotvery
sentimental.’‘Sentimenthasnothingto
dowithit–exceptmyloathingforthemhascloudedmyjudgement.It’stimetocountmyblessings.Twohundredmenwho’lldowhateveryouwant,noquestionsasked,areworthhaving,wouldn’tyousay?’
‘You’renotgoingtolikethis,’saidCaletoVague
Henri.‘Don’ttellmetherearen’t
anycucumbersandwiches.’VagueHenriwasonlypartlyjoking.Hewasunusuallypartialtocucumbersandwiches,whichhadbeeninventedonlytenyearsbeforebytheMaterazzidandyLord‘Cucumber’HarriswhenthevegetableshadfirstbeenimportedtoMemphisandnooneknew
whattodowiththem.EverydaythathewasnotoutandabouttakingcareofbusinessfortheOARVagueHenritookhighteaatfouro’clock(cucumbersandwiches,creamcakes,scones)andpretendeditwasdonetomockhisformerbetters.Infact,helookedforwardtohighteaasthegreatestpleasureinhislifenexttohisveryfrequentvisitstotheEmpireOfSoap
intheRueDeConfortSensuelle.‘Theprincesoftheblood–
they’regoingtogetawaywithit.’Thethreeofthemhad
discussedtheretributionagainsttheprinces(CaleandVagueHenrialwaysincludedKleisteventhoughheseemedindifferenttoanythingbuthisownparticulartasks),aswellasthemanufacturerswho
bribedthem,intermsofwhatshouldhappenandhowextremeandhowpublictheactsofviolencecommittedtowardsthemwouldneedtobe.‘Why?’VagueHenriwas
nolongerinagoodmood.HisfuryattheshoddymaterialthathadbeendeliveredwasasintenseasCale’s.‘Becausegettingawaywith
thingsthatotherpeopledon’tgetawaywithiswhatthey’regoodat.’‘Soyou’renotgoingtocut
theirheadsoffandstickthemonaspike?’ThishadbeenVagueHenri’spreferredsolution.‘Worsethanthat.’‘Goon.’‘We’regoingtohaveto
rewardthem,’saidCale.‘Youwanttogivethema
bung?’‘Yes.’‘Why?’‘We’renotstrongenough
tomoveagainstthem.ItalkedtoIdrisPukkeandVipondandtheyputmeright.Thereisn’ttimetostartarevolution.BoscotooktwentyyearstotakedownhisenemiesinChartresandeventhenhehadtomovemorequicklythanhewantedto.
Wecan’tkilladozenmembersoftheRoyalFamily–wecan’tevenaffordtoupsetthemtoomuch.Wehavetobribethemtogetoutoftheway.Weneedtomakethemanxiousandthenofferthemawayout.Nottooanxious,andagenerousexit.Trickybutpossible.’‘Andthefactoryowners?’‘Wecandowhateverwe
liketothem.’
Therewasashortsilence.‘Bollocks!’shoutedVague
Henri,trulyfrustratedandangry.‘Promisethatifwe’restillalivewhenthisisoverwe’llcomebackandfuckthemup.Tellmewe’lldothat.’‘Putthemonthelist,’said
Cale,laughing.‘Alongwithalltheothers.’Letusconsidertheactsof
ThomasCaleandhowthey
cameabout:thesavingofRibafromadreadfuldeath,thoughonlyafterhehadrunaway;thesomewhatreluctantreturntosavehisnotquitefriends;thevandalousbreakingofthebeautifulDanzigShiv;thekillingofmenintheirsleep;therescuingofArbellMaterazzi;thekilling,sansmerci,ofSolomonSolomonattheRedOpera;therestorationofthe
Palaceidiot,SimonMaterazzi;Arbellsavedagain;themuchregretteddeliveranceofConnatSilburyHill;thesigningofthewarrantofexecutionfortheMaidofBlackbirdLeys;thepoisoningofthewatersattheGolanHeights;thedestructionandinventionofthecamps,inwhichfivethousandwomenandchildrendiedofstarvationand
disease;thestranglingofKittytheHare;theburningofthebridgeafterBex;andperjuringhimselfatConnMaterazzi’strial.Tothesehenowaddedthekidnapandmurderofthetwentymerchantsheheldresponsibleforthetrashdeliveredtohisdepotstheweekbefore.Nakedasworms,themenwerestrungupinfrontofthepalaciosoftheroyalprinces
ofthebloodwhohadacceptedbribesfromthem.Theirbodieswerehorriblymutilated,nosesandearscutoff,lipsandfingersstitchedtogetherholdingacoinintheirtonguelessmouthsandclenchedhands.Theirlefteyesweregouged,theirgallbladders–heldtobetheseatofgreed–removed.Aroundtheirnecksasheetofpaper,laterdistributedin
hundredsthroughoutthecity,revealedtheterriblenatureoftheircrimesagainsteveryman,womanandchildwhoselivestheywerepreparedtosellinpursuitofmoney.Thepamphletwassigned‘TheKnightsoftheLeftHand’.TobestrictlyfairtoCale
andVagueHenri,themenhadbeenmurderedasquicklyandpainlesslyastimeandcircumstancesallowed.The
terribletortureinflictedonthemasalessontotherestwasdoneaftertheyhadbeenkilled.Historycannotjudge:historyiswrittenbyhistorians.Onlythereaderinpossessionofthefactscandecidewhetherhecouldhaveactedotherwiseinthecircumstancesorreasonablyseentheconsequencesofhisacts.Onthewallsofthe
palaciosfromwhichthebodieswerehungasentencewaswritteninoldSpanish,itbeinganaffectationofthearistocracythattheyshouldspeakalanguageamongthemselvesofakindnotspokeninSpainforseveralhundredyears.
Pesadohassidoenbalanza,yfuistehalladofalto.
Broadlyspeakingthiscouldbetranslatedas‘Youhavebeenweighedinthebalanceandfoundwanting’–anobservationthatwouldbefoundmeaninglesstohoipolloibutmenacingenoughtothetwelveprincesofthebloodinvolvedintakingmoneyfromthedeadmenhangingupsidedownoutsidetheirmansions.Caleletthemfretfortwenty-fourhoursand
thenIdrisPukke,onbehalfoftheOAR,deliveredalargepaperbagofmoneytocompensatethemforthelossofrevenuefromtheirentirelylegitimatecontractwiththelatefactoryownersthattheOARhadnowbeenobliged,inthefaceofgravenationalemergency,totakeoverinthegreaterinterestofall.Thetwelveprincesofthebloodacquiescedbecausetheywere
notsurewhatelsetodo:theyhadbeenthreatenedalthoughtheydidnotknowpreciselyhow,andrewardedalthoughtheydidnotknowpreciselywhy.Notonlywastherevery
littlefussconcerningthekidnapping,tortureandmurderofmenwhohadfacednotrial,letalonetheiraccusers,rathertherewasaclamourtorootoutanyone
elseinvolved,andmuchsupportfromtheslumsupwardsfortheKnightsoftheLeftHandandtheirmethods.
AweekafterSpanishLeedshadbeensetalightbythemurders,RobertHookereceivedavisitfromCaletohearhisinitialreportonthepossibilityofmanufacturingguns.
‘There’snothingwrongwiththeideaofguns,’saidHooke,astheylookedovertheexpensivelyboughtshootingiron.‘It’sthepracticethat’stheproblem.Thevillainoussaltpetrethat’spackedinatthisend–it’stoomuchfortheiron.That’swhyitexplodes.Simpleasthatreally.’‘Thengetbetteriron.’‘Itdoesn’texist.Notyet.’
‘Howlong?’‘Noidea–months,years.
Notenoughtimeanyway.’‘Sothat’sit?’‘Mmm…no…maybe
not.IwastalkingtoVagueHenri.Hetoldmehe’dmadehiscrossbowsmucheasiertoload–butitmeansthey’remuchlesspowerful.’‘Wedon’tneedthemtobe
powerful–they’reforcloserangefighting–afewfeet.’
‘Youneversaidthat.’‘So?’‘So?It’severything.
What’sthemaximumrangeyou’llbefightingat?’‘Afewyardsmostly–our
menwillbebehindwoodenwalls–aslittlemantomanfightingaspossible.’‘WilltheRedeemershave
armour?’‘Some,butnotmuch.ButI
supposethey’llstartusing
more.’Hookelookeddownatthe
shootingiron.‘Thenyoudon’tneedthis.’Heheldupalargeleadshotthesizeofachicken’segg.‘Youdon’tneedthiseither.’HegesturedCaleovertoatablecoveredbyaclothanddrewitofflikeaconjuroratachildren’spartyrevealingamagiccake.‘It’sjustawoodenmock-
up–butyoucanseethe
principle.’Itwassimilartothe
shootingiron–atubesealedatoneendandopenattheother–butcutlongwaysintwosoyoucouldseetheinnerworkings.‘Thethingis,’saidHooke,
‘isnottooverloadit.Youneedtherightamountofvillainoussaltpetre–aslittleaspossible–andsomethinglighttobeexplodedoutthe
otherend.’‘Howlight?’Hookeopenedupasmall
canvasbagandspreaditscontentsonthetable.Itwasjustacollectionofnails,smallshardsandnuggetsofmetal–evenafewstones.Itwashardtobeimpressed.‘Themainthingistogetthesizeofthechargeright.Everytime.Nooffencebutyourmen’lloverdoit.AndthenI
thought–whynotputauniformchargeinalittlecanvasbag,easytoload,alwaysthesamecharge?ThenIthought,whynotdothesamewiththemetalandstoneshot?Then,’hesaid,warmingtohisbrilliance,‘Ithought–whynotputthembothintoanotherbag?Easytoload,anddamnquick.Brilliant.’‘Willitwork?’
‘Comeandsee.’HookeusheredCale
outsidewheretwoofhisassistantsstoodnexttoanironpipe,muchliketheshootingiron,heldinawoodenvice.Abouttenyardsawaywasadeaddogstrappedtoaplank.Hooke,Caleandtheassistantstookcoverbehindapouisse.Oneoftheassistantslitataperontheendofalongstickand
carefullyeaseditouttotheshootingiron.Ashewastryingtoexposeaslittleofhimselfaspossibleittookseveraltriestolightthepan.Abletowatchthroughasetofdrilledholes,Calesawthevillainoussaltpetreinthepanflash,followedafewsecondslaterbyaBANG!–loud,butnotasloudashe’dexpected.TheywaitedafewsecondsandHookewalkedout
throughthedensesmoke,followedbyCale,andovertothedeaddog.He’dexpectedtoseesomethingterriblebutatfirsthethoughttheshotmusthavemissed.Ithadn’t–atleast,notentirely.OnceHookepointedoutthewoundstherewereclearlyhalfadozenbitsofnailandstoneembeddedquitedeepintheanimal’sflesh.‘Itmightnotkill.Butyou
gethitbythisandyouwon’tbetakingpartinanythingmorethangroaninginagonyforsometime.Andthethingis–ifyouonlyuseitatmassranksclosein,eachshotwillwoundtwoorthreeormoreeverytime.’‘Howmanytimesaminute
toloadandfire?’‘Wecandothree.But
we’renotinbattleconditions.I’dsay–conservative–two.’
Theyspentanotherhourdiscussingthemenandmaterialsheneededandwherethenewshootingironscouldbecastandhowreliablethesupplywouldbe.‘Thereshouldn’tbea
problem.Thestressonthesewillbemuchlowersoitshouldn’tbetoohardtocomeupwiththequalityweneed.Besides,Isupposeit’sprettyclearwhat’llhappenifthey
deliveranythingsecond-rate.’HelookedatCale
thoughtfully.‘Everyoneknowsitwas
you.’Calelookedbackathim.‘Everyoneknowsitwas
mewholaughedatConnwhenhedied.Everyoneknowsitwasmewhocutoffaman’sheadfororderingmetobringhimadrinkofwater.’
Hookesmiled.‘Everyoneknowsitwas
you.’
‘Everyone,’saidBoseIkard,‘knowsitwashim.’‘Therewasanoldlady,’
saidFanshaweinreply,‘whoswallowedabird.’‘Idon’tfollowyou.’‘Yousee,sheswallowed
thebirdtocatchthespiderthatsheswallowedinorderto
catchtheflythatsheswallowed.’‘Youmeansomethingbut
I’mtooirritableforyourcockiness.’‘Iwasmerelysuggesting
thatevenifthecureforthediseaseisnotasbadasthedisease,ThomasCalemightbeverybadindeedforyou.’‘Butnotyou?’‘Indeedhemight.The
Laconicsareoutnumbered
fourtoonebyserfs.’‘Ourpeasantsarethesalt
oftheearth,notslaves.Wedon’tkillthemwithoutcompunction.Sowe’renotafraidtogotosleepincasetheycutourthroats.Weareonenation.’‘Itrulydoubtthat.Butof
courseyou’reinthemiddleofawonderfulexperimenttotestyourconfidence.ItwillbesointerestingifCalepulls
itofftoseewhetheryourpeoplearehappytogobacktoalifeofsheep-shaggingandforelock-tugging.’‘What’syourpoint,ifyou
haveone?’‘Thatyouhavetoknow
whentostopswallowing.Doyouwanttoknowhowthesongends?’‘Notparticularly,’said
BoseIkard.‘Butit’senchanting.
28
‘FanshawehasofferedtosupplyahundredLaconicstotraintheNewModelArmy.’Thethreeboys,Kleistever
moresilent,wereeatingoystersinlemonjuicewithIdrisPukke,accompaniedbya
dry,flintySancerretocutoutthesaltiness.‘Obviouslyyoucan’ttrust
him,’saidIdrisPukke,enjoyingthepuzzleconcerningwhatFanshawewasuptoasmuchastheoystersandthewine.‘Butinwhatwaycan’tyoutrusthim?’‘Hedoesn’texpectmeto
believehe’sdoingitoutofthegoodnessofhisheart.He
doesn’tthinkI’mthatstupid.’‘Sohowstupiddoeshe
thinkyouare?’Therewasadelightful
sniggerfromVagueHenriatthis.NothingfromKleist.Heseemednottobelistening.‘IthinkFanshawe’s
realizedwemightstopBoscoandtheywanttobeonthe…notlosingside.’Atthispointtheywere
joinedbyArtemisia.
‘Oysters,mydear?’saidIdrisPukke.‘No,thankyou,’shesaid
sweetly.‘WhereIcomefromwefeedthemtothepigs.’Hewashighlyamusedbythis,rathertohersurprise,becauseshe’dintendedtotakehimdownapeg:forsomereasonshewronglysuspectedhimofcondescendingtoher.HeturnedbacktoCale.‘Howisheintendingto
explainthepresenceofsomanyLaconicstotheRedeemers?’‘It’sonlyahundred.He’s
goingtoclaimthey’rerenegades.’‘Allright.Youdon’t
believehim.Butagain,howdon’tyoubelievehim?’‘Idon’tknow.Notyet.But
Ineedhisinstructorswhateverhisreasons.Lossesaregoingtobehigh.Weneed
tochurnoutreplacementsatfivethousandamonth.Andthat’scuttingitfine.It’sgoingtobeadamnclose-runthing.’‘It’sanidea,’saidKleist,
‘worthdiscussing,Ithink.’Whenhespokethesedays,whichwasrarely,itwasaboutdetails.Heseemedtofindsomepeaceintheminuteparticularsoftheheelofabootorthewaytheleather
wasstitchedtokeepoutthewet.‘We’vebeenassumingtheyaren’tgoingtotrytocomeacrosstheMississippiinthewinter.’Artemisiagroanedin
irritation.‘I’vetoldyou–the
Mississippidoesn’tfreezeoverlikeotherrivers,notcompletely.Itbecomesamassoficeblocksbreakingandcrashingintoeachother.
Treacherousdoesn’tbegintodescribeit.They’renotcomingoverinnumbersuntilwellintothespring.’‘Ibelieveyou,’saidKleist,
quietly.‘Butyousaidtheycouldn’tcomeoverinnumbers.’‘So?’‘Butitwouldbepossibleto
cross…’‘Notwithanarmyor
anythinglikeit.’
Kleistdidn’treacttotheirritatedinterruption,hejustkeptoninhisdullmonotone.‘Butitwouldbepossibletocrossasmallforce.’‘Whatgoodwouldthat
do?’‘Idon’tmeanforthe
Redeemerstocrossinsmallnumbers,Imeanforustocrossinsmallnumbersovertothem.’Therewasashortsilence.
‘Todowhat?’saidCale.‘Yousaiditwouldbe
close.’‘Itwill.’‘Whatifyouhadmore
time…months,maybeawholeyear?’‘Goon.’‘TheRedeemersare
buildingboatsoverthewinterforaninvasioninthespring.Doyouknowwherethey’rebuildingthem?’
‘Idon’tsee…’saidArtemisia.‘Doyouknowwhere
they’rebuildingthem?’NowitwasKleistdoingtheinterrupting.‘Yes,’shesaid.‘The
sectionontheNorthBankbetweenAthensandAusterlitzispackedwithboatyardsbuttheRedeemershavemovedthefactoriesback,alongwiththebuilders,
toLucknowsotheycancontrolconstructionofthefleet.’‘Soalltheirboatsarein
oneplace?’‘Mostly,asfarasIknow.’‘Soifyoucouldgetaforce
of,say,athousandacrosstheriverinmaybeearlyspring,couldyouattackLucknowandburntheirfleet?’‘Icouldn’tgetathousand
across,’saidArtemisia.‘Or
anythinglikeit.’‘Howmanythen?’said
Cale,clearlyexcited.‘Idon’tknow.I’dhaveto
talktotheriverpilots.Idon’tknow.’‘Twohundred?’‘Idon’tknow.Maybe.’‘Itwouldbeworththe
risk,’saidCale.‘Itwouldbemypeople
takingit,’saidArtemisia.‘I’msorry,’saidCale.
‘That’strue.Butifitcouldbedone.’‘I’dhavetoleadit,’she
said.Calewasn’thappywith
this.‘Ineedyouhereandalive.
Youroutridersaretheeyesandearsofthefortresswagons.’Thiswastrueenough,butitwasnottheonly,oreventhemain,reason.‘Besides,’helied,
‘it’sanunbrokenrulethattheman…thepersonwhocomesupwiththeplanhastherighttoputitintooperation.’ArtemisiastaredatKleist.
‘YouhaveanextensiveknowledgeofriverworkandknowtheNorthBankoftheMississippiinHalicarnassus?’‘No.’‘Idohaveanextensive
knowledgeofriverworkand,asithappens,IowntheNorthBankoftheMississippiinHalicarnassus.’ThisevenmadeKleist
smile.‘Iwithdraw,’hesaid.Cale
lookedathim,notpleasantly.‘There’sanotherproblem,’
saidIdrisPukke.‘Areyouanexperton
riverworkandHalicarnassusaswellasallyourother
achievements?’‘No,mydear,Iknow
nothingabouteither.Thisismorepolitics.’‘What’sthatgottodowith
it?’‘Everythingcomesdownto
politicsonewayoranother.Isthisariskyventure,wouldyousay?’‘Ofcourse.’‘Youmighteasilyfail
then?’
‘Cale’sright,’saidArtemisia.‘Ifthere’sevenalimitedchanceofcausingsuchdamageweshouldtakeit.It’smylifeandthoseofmypeople.’‘Iwasn’tsomuch,I’m
afraid,worryingaboutthelivesoftwohundredpeople–there’llbemanysetsoftwohundreddeadbeforethisisover.Iwasworryingmoreaboutwhattheimplications
foreverythingelsewouldbeifyoufail.’‘IadmitIdon’tfollow,but
thenthat’sthepoint,isn’tit?Youwantmetoseemlikeastupidgirl.’‘Notatall,’replied
IdrisPukke.‘Butthinkaboutit.IfyouattackinlatespringthiswillbethefirstactionoftheNewModelArmyagainsttheRedeemers.Yes?’‘He’sright,’saidCale,
seeingahopeofstoppingher.‘Thearmyatlargedoesn’t
needtoknowanythingunlesswesucceed,’saidArtemisia.‘Iwastalkingabout
politics,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Youcankeepitfromthearmyandthepeopleifyou’recareful,butcanyoukeepitfromBoseIkardandtheHighCommand?’‘I’llpersuadethemit’sa
riskworthtaking.’
‘Butpoliticiansdon’tlikerisks,theylikedeals.Rememberthatthey’resoafraidoftheRedeemersthatthey’rereadytoputamadboyincharge.’‘He’stalkingaboutyou,’
saidVagueHenritoCale,‘justincaseyoudidn’trealize’.‘They’reontherazor’s
edge,allofthem.Thenthefirstthingyouofferthemis
anabjectfailure–they’llbebeggingBoscofornegotiationswhiletheashesarestillwarmonthisyoungwoman’sbonfire.Youcanlivewithoutthisvictory–youmightnotbeabletolivewithadefeat.’‘It’sworththerisk,’said
Artemisia.‘I’mnotsurethatitis,’
saidIdrisPukke.Calehadbeengivenhis
chanceandhewascarefulnottoturnitdown.‘Thisisanewidea.We
needtothinkaboutit.’‘Thinkaboutitandsayno,
that’swhatyoumean,’saidArtemisia.‘Nottrue.Talktoyour
riverpilots.Seewhattheyhavetosay.Workoutaplan.Whenyouhavewe’lltalkaboutitagain.’WhenArtemisiahadleft,
CaleturnedonKleist.‘Wehaven’thadapeepout
ofyouinmonthsbutsuddenlywecan’tshutyouup!’‘Youshouldhavetoldus
shewasjustalongtoimprovetheview–allwe’veheardfromyoutillnowiswhatawargeniussheis.’Thiswastrueandhe
couldn’tthinkofthelastword.Hehaditanyway.
‘Bollocks!’
AfewhourslaterCalesufferedanotherattackoftheconniptions–longerandmoreviolentinitsretchingsthanusual.Thedemon,ordemons,thatinhabitedhischestseemedtoliveintheirownworld,wokeandsleptontheirowntime,regardlessofanythingCaledidordidnotdo.Theywereunawareofthe
dailylifeoftheboytheyinhabited,indifferenttowhetherthingswentwellorbadly,ifhewaslovedorhated,waskindorpitiless.Theherbsworkeduptoapoint,ashefoundoutwhenhetriedtostoptakingthemandthechestdevilsdry-heavedintoexistencetwoorthreetimesadayinsteadofthreeorfourtimesaweek,whichwasbadenough.As
forthePhedraandMorphine,he’dnothadanyreasontotakeitagainandhewasn’tlookingforone.Thehorribledownafterhe’dusedithadlastedtwoweeksandmadehimfeelasifhe’dhadasipfromdeathinabottle.HedidtryofferingtheherbstoKleistbutheirritablyrefused,sayingtherewasnothingwrongwithhimandhedidn’tneedOldMotherHubbard’s
helpertokeephimgoing.EvenatbestCalehadto
workinshortbursts,restingallthetimeandsleepingtwelvehoursormoreaday.Howevermuchofadisadvantagethiswasinsomeways–hefelthorriblenearlyallthetime–itdidproducesomeusefuleffects.Hecouldnotstayinanymeetingformorethanafewminutesandtherewereplenty
ofthemtosqueezethelifeoutofanyactionthatneededtobetaken.Neverafriendlypresencetomost,hisattendanceatanygatheringwastensetothepointwhereheseemedalmostontheedgeoffuriousviolence.Becausehehadnochoice,hisalreadydecisivecharactertorethroughcomplexanddangerousdecisionsasifhewasorderingmeatforthe
guardsbackinArbell’shouseinMemphis.Oddly,somewhereinsidehisdamagedmindhewassometimesathissharpest:therewasaplacetherecutofffromtheoutsideworldhe’dbeenbuildingsincethefirstmomenthe’darrivedattheSanctuary.Throughallthoseyearsoflongusethisplaceofretreatwasastoughastheskinonanelephant’sfoot–
andneededtobetokeepoutthemadnessthatwasdestroyingtherestofhim.Dothis.Givehimthat.
Takethose.Putitthere.Doitagain.Releasethese.Hangthem.Noneofthisdeniedthedebtheowedtohisfriends.Hesmiledwhenhesaid,‘Bringmesolutions,notproblems.Yousolveit.EverytimeIhavetoanswerastupidquestionthinkofitas
hammeringanailintomycoffin.’Andforthemomentit
worked.EachoneofthemcouldrelyonthefearanddreadandhopethatCale’sreputationinspired.EvenVipond,amanofpowerifevertherewasone,andwhoknewnowevenbetterwhatitsnaturewashavinglostsomuchofit,wasamazedatwhathecouldonlydescribe
asthemagicothersinvestedinCale.‘I’vetoldyou,’said
IdrisPukke,whorelishedanychancetocondescendtohishalf-brother.‘Thespiritofthetimesisinhim.Hehasgreatabilitiesbutthat’snotwhy,ornotmostlywhy,he’sintheascendant.LookatAloisHuttler–youcouldfindathousanddunceslikehimgivingouttheirhalf-baked
opinionsinanypublichouseinthecountry.ButAloishadthespiritofthetimesinhim.Untilhedidn’t.’‘Whenpeoplearefaced
withannihilation,’observedIdrisPukke,‘it’snotdifficulttoseewhytheywanttobelievetheLeftHandofGodisbehindthem.’Onthisoccasionhewas
soundingoffaboutCaleinhispresence.VagueHenri
gurnedathisfriend.‘Pityallthey’vegotisyou,
then.’‘Yoursickness,’said
IdrisPukke,‘isbecomingakindofblessing.’‘I’mgladyouthinkso.’‘Notforyoupersonally,of
course.Butdidn’tBoscotellyouthatThomasCaleisnotaperson?’‘Yes,buthe’smad.’‘Butnotstupid.AmI
right?’‘Youmightnotbealways
right,butIagreeyou’reneverwrong.’Laughteratthis.
IdrisPukkeshrugged.‘Perhapsinhismadnesshe
recognizedsomethingwe’reonlybeginningtoseeourselves.Peoplefinditeasytoshinetheirdreadfulhopesonyou–thelefthandofdeath,indeed,butontheir
side.Itmaybethatthelessyou’reseentodo–thelessofapersonwho’slikethem–themorepowerfulyouare.’Hesighedwithenormoussatisfaction.‘I’mimpressedbymyself.’Morelaughter.‘Wecanmakeuseofthis.’Againstthewearinessof
beingsickwasthepleasureofworkingonthetacticsoftheNewModelArmy.Thetrainingwasgoingbetterthan
Calehadimagined.Protectedbythewagons,andusingweaponsbasedontoolstheywereusedtoworkingwithforhourseverydayoftheirlives,theconfidenceofthepeasantsoldierssoared.Themosteffectiveofthesehillbillyweaponswasthethreshers’flail–apoleoffourorfivefeetlonglinkedbyachaintoanotherpoleofeighteeninchesorso.Thesemenwere
usedtousingthemfortenhoursadayafterharvestandtheswingingheadsgeneratedsuchapowerfulforcetheycouldbadlyinjureaknightinfullarmourletalonethelessprotectedRedeemermenatarms.Butaboveeverythingtheyworkedonfindingouteveryweaknessofthewarwagons.VagueHenrihadthePurgatorarchersshootinginmassedranksatthewagon
fortstoworkouthowtoprotecttheoccupantsandcameupwithbamboo-coveredwalkwaysandsmallsheltersintowhichanyonecaughtintheopenduringsuchanattackcouldruntoprotectthemselves.Itwouldn’ttaketheRedeemerslongtotrytousesomethinglikefirearrowstosetthewagonsalightsohehadtheSwisssoldiers–whowould
bemostlyusedforattacksoutsidethefortandsowerenotbeingusedformuchduringattacks–traininteamstoputoutfiresbeforetheytookhold,mostlyusingbucketsfilledwithearthandusingwateronlyiftheymust.Theyobjectedtothiswithpuzzlingintensity.Theyweresoldiersandgentlemen–itwasdemeaningdiggingdirtandsothepeasantsshoulddo
it.Alltheirresentmentsatthebewilderingchangestheyhadbeenforcedtoendurecameoutinthissingleissueofputtingoutfires.Outofnothing,VagueHenrifoundhehadamutinyonhishands.Calewasalwaysmockinghimbysayingwhataniceboyhewas.Uptoapointthiswastrue,butbecausetheywereusedtoCaleascontrasttherewasageneral
misunderstandingaboutVagueHenriandwhathewascapableof.HeseemedverynormalinawaythatCalewasclearlynot,buthehadexperiencedthesamecorrosivebrutalityanddeadlinessoftheRedeemerlife.Itwasapartofhimtoo.RealizinghewasontheedgeofsomethingdisastroushisfirstinstinctwastodealwiththeproblemtheRedeemer
way:killacoupleofthenoisierprotestorsandleavethemtorotwhereeveryonecouldseetheirmistake.Whetherhewouldhavebeenreadytodothisandsleepwellafterwardswasfortunatelynotputtothetest.Therewassomethingofgoodnaturebutalsosomethingofcalculationthatmadehimlookforanotherwayfirst.VagueHenri,Caleand
Kleisthadtalkedatgreatlengthoverhowrealtheyshouldmakethepracticefighting.TheRedeemerstookthemotto‘Trainhard,fighteasy’toextremes.MockRedeemerbattlesweren’talwayseasytodistinguishfromtherealthingotherthanthatintheformertheyallowedthesurvivorstolive.Allthreefearedtheresultofpushingthepracticebattles
toohardwouldbetocreatemoreproblemsthantheysolvedandforthesamereasonasforthesummaryexecution:thesoulsoftheSwiss,peasantorgentleman,weren’taccustomedbylonghabittobrutality.ButtheSwisssoldiershadtobetaughtrespectonewayoranother.‘Right,’saidVagueHenritohisgentlemensoldiers.‘Youthinkyou’reso
muchbetterthantheyare.Proveit.’HefollowedthisbygoingtothepeasantsintheNewModelArmyandtellingthemthatthereweredoubtsinSpanishLeedsthey’dbeuptothetaskofarealbattle–theywere,afterall,peasantsandwouldbeboundtorunwhenthegoinggottough.He’davoidedsayingthatthiswastheviewoftheSwisssoldiersbecausesoonthey
weregoingtohavetofighttogether.Itwasenough:theywereincensed.ButtherewasmoreatstakethanjustrepeatingthebattleandthelessonofSilverField:bothsideshadtobedefeatedthistime.Threedayslater,withCale
–afascinatedspectator–theywatchedthegloves-offattackbySwissmenatarmsandmountedknightsonthe
countrybumpkins.Itwasnastystuff,buttheSwiss,foralltheirskillanddetermination,wereatahugedisadvantagebecausetheytooktentimesasmanyblowsforeachonetheycouldland.AfterabloodyhourtheywithdrewandVagueHenrishowedhisfinalandveryconvincinghand.Hepulledupfourhundredfire-archersandgotthempouringinthree
orfouraminuteeachfortenminutes.Bytheendthepeasantsweredrivenoutasthethirtywagonsburntliketheseventhcircleofhell.Itwasabrutaland
expensivepointbutitwaswellmade–bothsidesrealizedtheywouldliveordietogether.
‘I’vebeentoseeIdrisPukkeaboutthis,twice,buthekeeps
pissinginmyear,’saidFanshawe.‘Iwantthemroundedupandsentback.’‘Forwhatreason?’saidan
exhaustedCale,notmuchinthemoodforanythingexceptsleep.‘Asifyoucareabout
reasons.’‘Idonow–sowhatare
they?’‘Thesetwohundredand
fiftyHelotsbelongtothe
state.’‘Thatwouldbethestate
that’ssignedatreatywiththeRedeemers.’‘We’rehelpingyouin
practice,aren’twe?’‘Idon’tthinkweshouldgo
downtheroadofyourgoodintentions.Wecanifyoulike.’‘TheHelotsthreatenour
existenceasmuchastheRedeemersthreatenyours.
TherearefourtimesasmanyoftheminLaconiaasthereareofus.They’reheretolearnfromyouhowtheycankillthestatethatownsthem.Ifyoudon’twanttobeseentobeworkingagainstusletmedealwiththem.’‘Let’sgetthisstraight.I’m
theonewhodealswiththingshere.YougoanywherenearthemandI’llhaveyouswingingoffthenearest
maypoleupsidedownandwithyournoseinmypocket.’Therewasasilence–not
verypleasant.‘Thenwe’llleave.’Anothersilence.‘I’mnotsendingtwo
hundredandfiftymenbacktobeexecuted,’saidCale.‘Whatdoyoucare?’‘NevermindwhatIcare
about.I’mnotdoingit.’Fanshawe,nevertheless,
couldseeaconcessionwascoming.‘I’llmovethemon.’‘Meaning?’‘I’llhavethemescorted
overthemountainsbysomeunpleasantpeopleIknowandtoldtogetlost.’‘Andiftheyrefuse?’‘Don’tberidiculous.’‘CanItrustyouonthis?’‘Idon’tgiveasackof
rancidbadgergibletsforyourtrustonewayortheother.I
wantyoutostayandIpromiseI’llgetridofthem.Takeitorleaveit.That’sallthereis.’ItmadesensetoFanshawe
thathisinstructorsweremuchmorevaluablethanacoupleofhundreduntrainedpeasantssohedecidedtogiveway–thoughasungraciouslyaspossibleinordertoleaveCalewiththeimpressionhewasdeeplyunhappywiththe
outcome.Hewasn’tparticularly.ThenextdayCalewokeup
fromasixteen-hoursleepstilltired,andtofindIdrisPukkehadarrivedforashortmeeting.‘Youshouldhavetoldme
aboutFanshawekickingoffovertheHelots,’saidCale.‘Notinmyopinion,’said
IdrisPukke.‘Youmadeitclearthatwe,bywhichI
meanme,weresupposedtobringyousolutionsandnotproblems.Youshouldhaverefusedtoseehim.Infact,youshouldrefusetoseeanyone–cultivateyourmystery.Themoreyoutalktopeoplethemorehumanyou’llseemtothemandsothemorecomprehensibleandthereforeweaker.You’renottheincarnationoftheWrathofGod,you’reaverysick
boy.’‘Don’tbotherpolishingit,
willyou?’‘IfImust–you’reavery
remarkable,verysickboy.’‘Ithinkweshouldgivethe
Helotssomehelp.’‘Why?’‘IfwebeattheRedeemers,
it’llcomeataprice.We’llbetheweaker.There’severychancetheLaconicswilltakeadvantage.So,ifthey’vegot
todealwithslaves,newlytrainedslaves,there’slesschancetheLaconicswillbemakinganuisanceofthemselveswithus.’‘Andthat’sall?’‘Meaning?’‘Youhaven’tfallenforone
ofthosegenerousimpulsesthataffectyoufromtimetotime?’‘Suchas?’‘Yousympathizewith
them–youidentifywiththemaspeoplestrugglingtobefreeofanuglyoppressor.’‘Wouldthatbesobad?’‘That’sthreequestionsin
answertomythreequestions:rudebutrevealing.’‘Ihatetoberude.’‘You’rewalkingathin
line,boy,weallare–youcan’taffordtotakeonacauseyoudon’thavethepowertosupport.’
‘I’mnot.ButIdon’tseewhywecan’tsendtheHelotstotheeasttotrainwiththePurgatorsthere.’‘Iagree.’Apause.‘Soyou’llsendthem?’‘Ialreadyhave.’‘Greatmindsthinkalike.’‘Ifitpleasesyoutothink
so.’Calerangasmallsilver
belltosignalhewantedhis
tea.Hefeltabsurdlyself-importantdoingsomethingsopreciousbutitsavedtheeffortofgoingtothedoorandshouting.Teaarrivedimmediatelyasthebutlerhadmerelybeenwaitingforthebell.IdrisPukkelookedonwithanticipationattheassortmentofsandwicheslaidbeforehim,crustsremovedandcutintodaintytriangles:cheese,egg,andhorsemeat
withcucumber.TherewerepastriesfromPatisserieValerieinMottStreet:creamselvaandwildstrawberrymillefeuilleandalmondfrangipanewithitsintoxicatingwhiffofsweetcyanide.‘Findingthingstospend
yourmoneyon?’saidIdrisPukke.Calesmiled.‘Eatthouand
drink;tomorrowthoushalt
die,’hesaid–alinespokentohimthreetimesadaybeforemealsattheSanctuary.‘Noarguingwiththat,’said
IdrisPukke,takingalargebiteoutofavealpiewithaboiledegginthemiddle.‘Koolhauscametoseemelookingforajob.’‘He’salreadygotajob,’
saidCale.‘He’sanableyoungman–
very.Weknowhimandhe
knowsus.It’sawaste.Hecanmakehimselfuseful.’‘I’mnotgoingtoleave
Simondeafanddumbagain.Offerhimmoremoney.’‘He’sambitious.Wecould
losehimanditwouldbebesttokeepsomeonewhoknowsagreatmanyofoursecretsinsidethefold.Hecouldbeagreatnuisance,too.’Calemunched
absentmindedlyonared
velvetcupcake.‘Allright.Puthimtowork
withKleistorVagueHenriforamonth.Seehowitgoes.Ifhe’sgottherightstuffsendhimtokeepaneyeonthingsinWestThirteen.ButhetakesSimonwithhim.’‘Arbellwilltrytostop
him.’‘IfSimonletsherthenhe’s
out.SendKoolhausonhisown.’
Theysatinpleasantsilenceforafewminutesenjoyingtheirtea.‘Youshouldgoandsee
Riba,’saidIdrisPukkeatlast.‘Because?’‘Weneedtomakemore
useofher.’‘Itriedthatalready.She’s
learntgratitudefromheroldmistress.’Tohisgreatirritation,
IdrisPukkelaughed.
‘You’vegotaveryelevatedexpectationofotherpeople’scapacityforgratitude.’‘Notanymore,Ihaven’t.’‘Idisagree;youaskedher
tobetrayherhusband–andabrandnewhusbandatthat.Youdidn’tevengivehertimetobecomedisillusionedwithhim.’‘Well,I’mgladyouthink
it’sfunny.Istoppedthat
ungratefulcowfrombeingdisembowelledwhileshewasstillalivebythatmadbastardPicarbo.’IdrisPukkekeptoneatinga
cakeduringthisrantandwhenhe’dfinishedeatingputdownhisplateandsaid,‘YouknowI’dforgottenwhatadripyoucanbe.’Calewasstartledbutnotbytherefusaltograntthathisresentmentwasentirelyjustified.‘You
thinkyou’resomuchaboveeveryoneelse–don’tdenyit.’‘Iwasn’tgoingto,’said
Cale.‘Thenwhyareyouso
surprisedthatotherpeopledon’tliveuptoyourstandards?Youcan’thaveitbothways,sonny.Youneedtomakeyourmindup.Orinfuturesticktoperformingyourmagnanimousactsof
self-sacrificeforthebenefitoftheheroicandexceptionallyvirtuous.’IdrisPukkepouredCalea
cupofteaandtinkledthebell.ItwasamockingpresentfromCadburyforVagueHenri,boughtwhenhediscoveredheorderedhighteaeveryafternoon.‘Yourang,sir,’saidthe
butler.‘Moretea,Lascelles,’said
IdrisPukke.‘Verywell,sir,’said
Lascellesandleft.‘Youclaimyouexpect
nothingofothersyetyouclearlyexpectsomeofthemtogiveupeverything.Why?’‘OnlypeopleIriskedmy
lifetosave.’‘There’sadifference
betweenwhatpeopleoughttodoandwhatthey’recapableofdoing.You’veneverhada
wifeorafathertosplityourloyalties.I’msureitcostheragreatdealtoturnyoudownwhichiswhyyoushouldshowsomebackboneandmakeuseofherguilt.She’llwanttohelpyouproveshe’snotthankless.’‘Theyshouldhavetrusted
me.’‘Nodoubt.Buttheywere
afraid.’‘Iknowwhatitmeansto
beafraid.’‘Doyou,now?Yousee
I’mnotsurethat’strue–ornottrueenough.’Lascellescamebackwith
theteaandafterthatIdrisPukkechangedthesubject.
29
‘You’restillangrywithme,’saidRiba,morestatementthanquestion.‘No.I’vehadplentyof
timetocooldown.IrealizedIaskedtoomuchfromyou.’Shewasnotconvincedby
hisclaimofforgivenessbutitwasequallynecessaryforhertoactasifshewere.Guiltandpolicydemandedit–herhusbandwantedtoestablishgoodrelationswiththenewlypowerfulCale.‘Howareyou?’‘Asyoucansee,’said
Cale,smiling.Shesaidlatertoher
husband,‘Hewaspalethewayyellow-greenispale.’
‘Andyou?’‘Verywell.’Therewasa
pauseasshestruggledtodecidewhethertotellhim.Butshewantedto–anddesperately.‘I’mgoingtohaveababy.’‘Oh.’‘You’resupposedtosay:
“Howwonderful,mydear,I’msoveryhappyforyou.”’‘Iam…Iamhappyfor
you.’Helaughed.‘Thething
isIcan’tbelieve,notreally,thatasmallpersoncangrowinsideanotherperson.Itdoesn’tseempossible–thatitcouldreallyhappen.’‘It’strue,’saidRiba,
laughingherself.‘WhenoneofthemaidsletmeseehertummywhenshewassevenmonthsIscreamedwhenIsawthebabyturnoverandherstomachbulging–itwaslikewatchingacatinabag.’
Theybothsmiledateachother–affection,calculationandresentmentlayeredoneontopoftheother.‘NowyouhavetoaskmewhenI’mdue.’‘Idon’tknowwhatthat
means.’‘WhenamIgoingtohave
it?’‘Whenareyougoingto
haveit?’‘Sixmonths.’Another
pause.‘NowyouaskifIwantaboyoragirl.’‘Idon’treallycare.’Shelaughedagain–but
nothing,ofcourse,couldbethesame.‘Iwantyourhusband’s
help.’‘ThenI’llarrangeforhim
tocomeandseeyou.’‘I’mnotbeinginsulting,
butIwantactualhelpnotwhattheHansehavebeen
offeringuptonow.’‘Whichis?’‘Youtellme.Betterthan
that–showme.’‘I’mjusthiswife.Ican’t
speakforhim,letalonetheHanse.’‘No,butyoucanspeakto
him.Youcanpersuadehimnottobeataroundthebundwithme.There’snotime.Imeanit.IfhestaysonthesidelinesandIwinIwon’t
forget–bywhichImeanI’llclosedowntheHansefromheretothelifetocome.’‘Whatifyoudon’twin?’‘Thenhe’sgotnothingto
worryabout,hashe?’Shewasuncertainabout
whattosay.‘It’snotjustaquestionofwhathebelievesorwants.TheHanseaticLeaguedon’thavemuchexperienceoftheRedeemers.Theythinktheirreputationis
justscaremongering.That’swhattheywanttobelieve.Youmustn’tsayItoldyouthisbuttheywon’tsendtroops,notatanyprice.There’snothinghecandoaboutthat–andifyouaskforthemtheHansewillkeepyouwaitingforananswerformonths.’‘WhatcanIaskfor?’‘Money,perhaps.’‘Idon’tneedmoney–I
needadministrators,peoplewhoknowhowtoorderandsupply,warehousing,delivery–allthestufftheHanseknowshowtodo.Idon’tneedmoney,fivehundredgoodpeoplewilldo.’Itwasafigurepluckedfromtheair.‘Withsofewitdoesn’thavetobeofficial.TheHansedon’thavetobeseeninit.ButIwantthemandIwantthemnow.’Helookedather,
andsmiled.‘Iliedaboutthemoney.Iwantthemoneyaswell.’AsRibagotintohercabto
leaveshewaswatchedfromtwostoreysabovebyVagueHenri.Hewasrememberingthetimehehidbehindasmallhillockinthescrublandsandwatchedherbathingnakedinapool,allgorgeouslychubbycurvesbutmuscularlyplumpandwetlysoft,andhewas
recallingthetinglinginhischestassheunmindfullypartedthefoldsbetweenherlegs.Butthatwasanotherworld.Twominuteslater,Vague
HenrijoinedCaleforwhatwasleftofafternoontea.‘Howwasit?’heasked.‘Nobodylovesus,’said
Cale.‘Wedon’tcare,’replied
VagueHenri.
ThatnightCaleheldArtemisiainhisarmsforthelasttime.Iftheirnakednessandembraceimpliedwarmththerewasagreatcolddistancebetweenthemforallthetouchingoftheirskin.Cale,inexperiencedinthereasonswhysheneverclosedhereyesanymorewhenhekissedherface,wasunsurewhathefeltorwhattodoaboutit:he’dneverliked
someoneandthenstoppedlikingthembefore.Howcouldsomethingsocloseasbeinginsidesomeone–howstrangeitwas,howstrange–turnintosuchavastdistancesoquickly?‘Iwanttocrosstheriver,’
shesaid.‘It’scomplicated.’‘That’swhatpeoplesay
whenthey’reabouttosayno–totheirchildren,Imean.’
Hepulledawayfromherandsatup,lookingforhiscigars.Heonlyhadhalfofoneleft.Helitup.‘Mustyousmoke?’‘Worriedformyhealth?’‘Idon’tlikeit.’Hedidn’treplybuthedid
carryonsmoking.‘Iwanttogo.’Stillhe
didn’tsayanything.‘I’mgoingtogo.’Heturnedtolookather.‘I’mgoingtogo,
nomatterwhatyousay.’‘Youmighthavenoticed,’
hesaidatlast,blowingalongstreamofsmokeintotheroom,‘thatI’mthepersonwhotellspeoplewhattodo.’‘Oh,sowhatwillyoudo,
YourEnormity,havemearrested?WillyouhangmeupoutsidethePradaasanexample?’‘You’reraving.Youneed
totakesomething.’
‘I’mgoing.’Helookedather.‘Gothen.’Thistooksomeofthewind
outofhersails.‘Isthisoneofyourlittle
swindles?’shesaidatlast.‘No.’Shestoodup,quitenaked,
almostlikeaminiaturewomancomparedtoRiba.‘Iunderstand.Iseeright
throughyoutotheotherside.
Thisisagoodwaytogetridofme.’‘SoI’mthevillainifIlet
yougoandthevillainifIstopyoufromgoing.’‘You’repreparedtoletme
riskmylifeandthelivesofhundredsbecauseyouhaven’tgotthegutstofinishwithme.Letmesaveyouthetrouble–Idon’twantanythingmoretodowithyou.You’realiar,andamurderer.’
Theinsultshadlethimoffthehook.Shehadmadethedecisionforhimandawonderfulsenseofrelieffloodedthroughhim.‘Well?’hesaid,assheputonherclothes.‘I’mgoing.’‘Youmeanyou’regoing
noworyou’regoingtocrosstheMississippi?’‘Both.’Shestoodup,put
onhershoes,walkedthrough
thedoorandtookcarenottoslamitshut.
‘Whatdoyouwantmetodoaboutit?’saidCaletoIdrisPukkeafterhe’dtoldhimhe’dgivenArtemisiapermissiontocrosstheMississippi.‘ShouldIhaveherkilled?’‘Youwerebroughtupvery
careless.Whydoesyourmindalwaysturnsoquicklyto
murder?’Calelaughed.‘Iwas,yes.
ButnowIhaveyoutotellmerightfromwrong.’‘Youmisunderstandmeif
that’swhatyouthink.It’struethatsometimes,notveryoften,moralrulescollideandyouoffendnomatterwhatdecisionyoumake.Buttheworldisn’tawickedplacebecausepeopledon’tknowthedifferencebetweenright
andwrong.Ninetimesoutoftentherightcourseofactionisclearenoughbutforonething.’‘Whichis?’‘Thatitdoesn’tsuit
people’sinterestsordesirestodowhat’sright.Grantedtheyhaveimpressivewaysofdealingwiththeanxietythatresults–byburyingitdeepatthebackoftheirminds,orbetterstill,tellingthemselves
thatthebadcourseofactionthey’reabouttotakeisreallythebestcourseofaction.ThemoralistneverlivedwhocouldtellyouanythingclearerthantheGoldenRule.’‘There’saGoldenRule?’
mockedCale.‘Thereisindeed,sarcastic
boy:treatothersasyouwouldwanttobetreated.Everythingelseinmoralityisjustembroideryorlies.’
Caledidn’tsayanythingforawhile.‘How,’hesaid,atlast,‘am
Isupposedtoapplythattosendingtensofthousandsofpeopleeithertodieortokilltensofthousandsofotherpeople?InordertosurviveI’vehadtolie,cheat,murderanddestroy.NowIhavetodothesamesothatmillionsofotherscansurvivewithme.HowdoesyourGoldenRule
helpmethere?Tellme,becauseI’dliketoknow.’‘ButIconcedethereare
othertimeswhenmoralityisverytricky.That’swhywehavesomanymoraliststotelluswhattodo.’‘Anyway,’saidCale,‘I
havemyownGoldenRule.’‘Whichis?’said
IdrisPukke,smilingaswellascurious.‘Treatothersasyouwould
expecttobetreatedbythem.Italwaysworksforme.’Hehelpedhimselftoanothercupoftea.‘SowhyareyouagainsttheattackovertheMississippi?’‘Iwouldn’tsayIwas
againstit.Tobehonest,I’mnotsure.Thethingisthatifshefails…’‘Andshemightnot.’‘Shemightnot.Butifshe
does,thenherfailure
weakensyouattheexactpointyouneedafailureleast.’‘Butifshesucceeds?’‘Thatmightnotbesuch
goodnewsasfirstitseems.’‘Amassiveblowtothe
Redeemersandanextrayeartoprepare–notgoodnews?’‘Nobodylikesyou.You
agree?’‘They’lllikemeifI’ma
success.’
‘Willthey?They’veputyouinapositionofsuchpowerbecausethey’reafraid…’‘Terrified.’‘Yes.Terrifiedisbetter.
Whilethey’rescaredwitlessthey’llputupwithyou.ButnowArtemisiaisoneofthem,notanylongeroneofyou.’‘Isshe?Theydidn’tthink
sowhenshewastheonlyone
tocrimptheRedeemerssixmonthsago.’‘Thatwaswhenthe
alternativewasthemselves–nowthealternativeisyou.’Helaughed.‘Youthinkthey’llputher
incharge?’‘No.Butthey’llstart
thinkingthattheyover-estimatedyou.They’dlikethat.Don’tforgetthey’realreadythinkingaboutwhat
todowithyou,notjustifyoufailbutalsoifyousucceed.Ifamanthreatensthestate,killtheman.’‘Itworksjustaswellthe
otherwayround:ifthestatethreatenstheman,killthestate.’‘Exactly…that’sexactly
whattheyfear…thatyou’regoingtokillthestateifyougettoopowerful.SoagreatsuccessbyArtemisia,which
givesthemanotheryearforpreparation…they’llhavethetimetobealotlessterrifiedoftheRedeemerswhoarenowbeatablebysomeonewhoisn’tThomasCale,beatablebyjustawoman,infact.Youneedhertosucceedlikeyouneedaholeinthehead.’Calesighed.‘You’resureyou’renot
makingthismore
complicatedthanitis?’IdrisPukkelaughed.‘No,I’mnotsureatall.
WhenIheardthatRichelieuwasdead–nowtherewasasubtlemind–Ididn’tthink:Oh,Richelieuisdead.WhatIthoughtwas:Iwonderwhathemeantbythat?Tobeapoliticianistoseetheremightbeadisadvantagetothesuncomingupinthemorning.DoyoumindifIhavethelast
Ecclescake?’Calehadbeenlooking
forwardtoeatingithimself.IdrisPukkehadalreadyhadone.‘No,’hesaid.IdrisPukke,
likeallgreatdiplomats,assumedthatthismeantNo,youhavethelastcakeandnototherwise.Hetookalargebite.Theysatinsilenceforamoment.‘Kant,’saidIdrisPukke.
‘What?’‘ImamuelKant.
Philosopher.Nowdead.Hesaidthatifyouwanttoknowwhetheryouractionsaremoralyoushoulduniversalizethem.’‘Idon’tknowwhatthat
means.’‘Ifyouwanttoknowifa
courseofactionyou’reabouttoundertakeiswrongyoushouldaskyourself:whatif
everyonebehavedlikethat?’Thisseemedtointrigue
Cale.IdrisPukkecouldseehimthinkingbackoverhispast:themenkilledintheirsleep,thepoisonedwells,theexecutionofprisoners,signingthedeathwarrantoftheMaidofBlackbirdLeys,killingKittytheHare,thedeathoffactoryownershungupoutsidethehousesofhoiaristoi.Ittooksometime.
‘Well?’askedIdrisPukkeatlast.‘TheMaidofBlackbird
Leyswasagoodperson…courageous,butadopelikeImamuelKant.Whatifyouaskthesamequestionaboutyourgoodactions?Whatifeveryonebehavedlikethat?WhatifeveryonetookontheRedeemerslikeherbyputtinguppostersandpreaching?They’dendupexactlythe
wayshedid–inapileofashes.Ifyoufightcrueltywithkindnessit’sthekindnessthatgoesawaynotthecruelty.I’msorryaboutthecampsandwhathappenedtothewomenandchildrenoftheFolk.Ihavebaddreams.ButIdidn’tmeanittohappen.’‘Traditionallytheroadto
hellispavedwithgoodintentions.’
‘Well,itwasn’tagoodintention,exactly.IfIhadtodoitagainI’ddoitdifferently–butIdon’t.Ihavebaddreamsinstead.Butnoteverynight.Ifyoudosomethingterribleyoueitherthrowyourselfoveraclifforgetonwithit.’Theysatinsilencefora
while.‘Exceptforthatshit-bag
SolomonSolomon,Inever
actedoutofmalice.Well,himandafewotherpeople.’‘Youlaughedwhenthey
killedConnMaterazzi–andyoucutoffaman’sheadfortellingyoutobringhimaglassofwater.’Calesmiled,notneedingto
pointoutneitherwastrue.‘It’sonlyfairtotellyou,’
addedIdrisPukkeafterashortsilence,‘thatImamuelKantalsosaiditwasalwayswrong
totelllies.Hesaidthatifyoudecidedtohideafriendwho’dcometoyourhouseandsaidamurdererwasafterhim,andthenthatmurderercametoyourdoorandaskedifyourfriendwastherebecausehehadtokillhim–well,thenitwouldbewrongtotellalie.You’dhavetodotherightthingandgivehimup.’‘You’remakingfunof
me.’‘No.Ipromise.Hereally
saidthat.’‘Tellme,IdrisPukke,if
youfacedtheexterminationofyouandyoursatthehandsoftheRedeemers,whowouldyouwantstandingbetweenyouandthem–meorImamuelKant?’
Mostofusexperiencedayslikethis:fromthemoment
thesunriseslikearibbonuntilitsetsinrosyfingerseverythinggoeswonderfullywell,exceptforthethingsthatgoevenbetter–moneyarrivesunexpectedlyinlargeamounts,beautifulwomenstrokeyourarmasiftheythoughtnothingwasmorewonderfulthanthetouchofyourskin,achanceremarkallowsyoutoseethateveryonewhodoesnotlove
youholdsyoustillinhighregard.Whoissounfortunatenottohavehaddayslikethese?Calewassofortunatethathe’dbeenhavingthesedaysforthreemonths,prettymuch,inarow–andthisforsomeonewhowasheldtohaveflocksofbadluckowlsalwayshoveringaroundhishead.Notjustfuneralsbutdisasterusuallyseemedtofollowhimeverywhere.But
notforthegloriousninetydaysinwhicheverythingheattemptednearlyalwaysworked.TheHanseadministratorsarrivedwithinthreeweeksalongwiththegeniusesoftheorderbook,offreightdeliveries,ofincentiveschemesforworkofquality(backedupbythreatsofviolencefromThomasCale).Theycentralizedtheplanningoftransportsothebacon
arrivedmaggot-free,thetackbiscuitsunsharedwiththeweevils,anddevisedpaperworksothatwhenwagonsorweaponsorblanketsneededtobereplacedtherewassomethinginthestorehouseswaitingtosupplythatneed.Thetrainingofthepeasantsintheirwoodenfortsstaggeredthehopesofthemallasthepeasantsabsorbedwith
eagernesstheharshnessoftheirinstructionbytheLaconicsandthePurgators.Nomutinousgrumbles,onlybackboneandgettingonwiththejob.VagueHenriandthemiserableKleistworkedateveryweaknesstheRedeemersmightfindinCale’sdesignandtacticsandseemedinspiredatcreatingsolutionstothelimitationsthattheyfound.The
atmosphereofbreakingwiththepast,ofrevolutionandmetamorphosis,seemedtobeintheairitself.NotyetawarethatCalehadliedabouthelpingtheHelots,Fanshawe,anestablishmentmaverickofthekindthateverysensiblerigidsocietylookstofindaplacefor,discoveredheverymuchenjoyeddestroyingentrenchedattitudesaslongastheyweren’thisown.
Everydecisionseemedtoturnoutbetterthanhoped:Koolhausthesullenwasasgoodashisambitionwasenormous;heseemedtohavetheentirecampaigndowntothelastroundofcheesesortedinhisbrain.WithinamonthhewasbackwithCaleandIdrisPukke.Heeitherkneweverythingorknewhowtofindoutaboutit.Heseemedbarelyhuman,asif
hewasinpossessionofamagicaldevicethatcouldsearchavastmemoryandprovideaninstantanswer.Koolhauswasirritatingandobjectionableandhadtheimaginationofabrick,butasabureaucrathewassomethingofagenius.AsforSimonMaterazzi,hefoundwarwasagenerousmothertothosewhoweredismissedinmorepeacefultimes.Anxious
toberidofhisaristocraticburden,KoolhaushadspentmanyhoursweaningSimonoffthesignlanguageandworkingouthowhemightlearntolipread.Yetagaindrivenbyself-interest,Koolhausturnedhisconsiderablebraintotheinventionofanunheard-ofskill.JustasanxioustoberidofKoolhausasKoolhauswastoberidofhim,Simon
workedforhoursadayatperfectingthisability.ThetwoofthemhadalreadybeenplanningtheirdivorcewhenCale’sofferarrivedandledtotheirfinalweekstogether.ButwhileKoolhauswasfinallyabletorubthefacesofothersinthesuperiorityofhisskillatalmosteverything(barringskillwithpeopleoranythingoriginal)Simondiscoveredtheimmense
pleasureandevengreaterusefulnessofhavingpeopleignorehimwhilehelistenedtoeverythingtheyhadtosay.TheLaconicswereinthehabitofthrowingchildrenbornlameorblindintoachasmoutsidethecapital,sosomeonelikeSimonwasanoveltyandtheytreatedhimasifhewereanamusingmonkey.Simontookhisrevengebymakinguseofthe
completeeasewithwhichtheytalkedinfrontofhimtokeepCaleinformedinsurprisingdetailaboutwhattheywereupto.Interestingly,evenhadSimonbeenbornaLaconichewouldhavelived.Therewasoneexceptiontotheirotherwiseironrule:achildoftheLaconicroyalfamily,nomatterhowsickly,wouldnevermakethelongfallontotherocksofthat
terribleplace.Soitwasandevershallbe.ItamusedtheLaconicstoseeSimonandKoolhauschatteringsilentlyaway,handtohand,inthebeautifullyfluentwaytheyhadofspeaking.TheywouldgestureSimonovertothematnightandwritedownwordsforhimtoteachthemhowtosignthem.Theyenjoyedmakingacondescendingfussofhimandtheyhadnoidea
thatiftheyspokewhilefacinghimhecouldreadnearlyeverywordtheyweresaying–includingthelight-heartedabusedirectedathim.WhenKoolhauswasrecalledtoSpanishLeeds,Simonmadeadealwithhimtobecomehisreplacement,leavinganoldschoolfriendofKoolhaustostayandpretendtotranslateforhimsothattheLaconicswouldnotbecome
suspicious.‘Areyousurehecandothe
job?’saidCale,whenKoolhausreturned.‘Ithoughtyouwerehis
friend?’saidKoolhaus.‘Canhedothejob?’‘Yes,hecandothejob.’Koolhausdecidedthat
Simon’sskills–wonwithasmucheffortfromhimasfromSimon–wouldbebetterkepttohimself.Theusefulthings
hemight,andindeedalreadywaslearning,wouldenhanceKoolhaus’reputationforbeingamanwithallsortsofthingsathisfingertips.ThepreparationsforthecrossingoftheMississippiwerealsogoingwellandwaitedonlyfortheweatherandCale’sfinalsay-so.Therewereafewwaspsin
Cale’shoneybuttheonethataffectedhimthemostdirectly
wastheintroductionofrationing,amovedemandedbythebureaucratsoftheHansetopreventpanic-buying,hoardingandshortagesofgoodsthatwerevitalfortheNewModelArmy.TheirargumentshadbeenreviewedbyKoolhausatCale’sinstructionandhe’dconcludedtheircasewasunanswerable–rationingwasasvitaltothedefeatofthe
Redeemersastheprovisionofweapons.‘Itwill,ofcourse,’said
Koolhaus,reportingtotheOAR,‘benecessaryforthesakeofpublicmoralethattheserestrictionsapplytoeveryone.Therecanbenoexceptions,’hedeclaredpiously,‘except,ofcourse,fortheRoyalFamily.’Asithappened,Koolhaus
madehisdeclarationwhile
VagueHenriwasintheroom,havingreturnedtoSpanishLeedsbrieflytodiscusshispreparationsinthewestwithCale.Nosoonerhadthewords‘RoyalFamily’passedhislipsthanKoolhaus,stillinexperiencedbutaquicklearner,realizedhe’dmadeaseriousmistake.Perhapsworsethanserious.‘Thetemperaturedroppedsoquickly,’saidadelighted
IdrisPukkelatertohisbrother,‘IthoughttheNorthPolehadstoppedbyforacupoftea.God,thatKoolhausisacockylittlesod.’CalestaredatKoolhaus,
whileVagueHenridrewoutadaggerhehadspeciallymadeforhimselfbasedontheDanzigShankandcarved,forreasonsherefusedtoexplain,withtheword‘if’oneithersideofthehandle.Heraised
thedaggerasifheweregoingtocutoffKoolhaus’sheadbutonlystabbeditdownintothemiddleofthebeautifullyinlaidwalnuttableatwhichtheyweresitting.VagueHenri’shatredofthearistosofSpanishLeedshadfesteredfromageneraldisdain,bornofthenaturalresentmentofthenobodyfortheprivileged,toaparticularloathingbasedonthewayhehadbeen
treatedwhileCalewasinthelunaticasylumatThePriory.TheideathathewouldhavetogowithouthisbelovedcucumbersandwicheswhiletheRoyalFamilycarriedonunaffectedwasmorethanhecouldbear.Soheputhisfootdown.Therewasashortpause.‘So,’saidIdrisPukke,
‘we’reagreed:rationingforall–theRoyalFamilyand
presentcompanyexcepted.’AfterKoolhausand
IdrisPukkeleft,whichwasalmostimmediately,CaleturnedtoVagueHenriandnoddedattheknifefirmlystuckinthemiddleofthetable.‘I’mnotpayingforthat,’
saidCale.‘Nobodyaskedyouto,’
repliedVagueHenri.Therewasapeevish
silence.‘Why’,askedCale,
‘couldn’tyouhavejustbangedyourfistonthetable?Lookatit,it’sruined.’‘IsaidI’dpay.’Anothersilence.‘Bloodyhooligan.’
30
AlongtheupperreachesoftheicyMississippisomethingstirred.Lowerdowntheriversomethingelsestirredaswell.ArtemisiaHalicarnassuswascursingthegoodweatherthathadbeensuchablessingfor
CaleduringthetrainingoftheNewModelArmy.Inanormalwinter,asthetemperatureshiftsbackandforthbetweenfreezingandslightlyabovefreezing,theriverwashardtoread,evenfortheexperienced:themeltingbutstillmassiveblocksoficethathadbrokenoffupstreamwouldjamtogethertoformgreatdamswhichmightstickforweeks
andthen,withadayofwarmertemperatures,suddenlygivewayandflowdownlikeaslowavalanche,sometimesformiles,untiltheyhitmoredammedice,atwhichitmightjamagainorcauseagreatcollapseandstartanevenbiggerflow.Buttheunseasonalwarmththisyearhadmadethisprocessevenmoretreacherousandunstablethannormal.
ButArtemisiahadmenaroundherwhohadlivedontheriverforsixtyyearsormore.Therewasalargefieldofunstableicejammedaboutfivemilesupstreambutthetemperaturehaddroppedtoaroundfreezing,lesseningthechanceofabreak.Thedangerwasfromlargeriver-bergsfromupstreamcrashingintothegroaning,crackingandunstabledamofice.Butfor
tenmilesupstreamoftheblockagetheskilledandexperiencedweresprawledalongthebank,eachmantiedbyalineofstringandsignallingwithdifferentkindsoftugtothenextmandownthesizeoftheriver-bergsastheypassedthemby.Ontheicejamitselfmenwerestationedtowatchupstreamandgaugethestabilityoftheicetheywerestandingon.
Oncedarknesshadcomethecrossingsoldiers,wrappedagainstthecoldasthicklyasanexpensivepresent,enduredanecstasyofedgywaiting.Thenthewordtoriskitcame.Twentyboats,carryingsevenhundredmenarmedlikehedgepigs,werelaunchedintothenarrowestcrossingformanymilesineitherdirection.Butnoteventhesharpest
riverpilotwiththegreyestbeardcouldseeundertheicewherethegreatbergsjutteddownwardtowardsthesiltybedandcreatedviciouseddiesinthecurrentthatcarvedgreatswathesoutofthebottomoftheriver.Theseturbulentandrestlessundertowscameandwentwiththeshiftingiceabove.Theoaktree,water-fat,passedtheberg-watcherson
theshoreunseen,nomorebreakingthesurfaceinitsmassivethicknessthanahuntingcrocodile.Thenithittheicedamwithathudlikethelowbassofthedeepestnoteinacathedralorgan.Itwasfeltbythelookoutsontheiceitselfasmuchinthebowelsasintheear.Theywaitedforthegreatcrackthatmightsplitthefieldandloosenthedamofbergs–and
killmostofthem.Itnevercame.Pushedunderneaththeicebythecurrenttheoaktreebegantoroll–downitwentliketheJesuswhale,downtothebottomofthedamwhereafewhoursbeforetwogreatfangsoficehadformed.Aroundthemthecurrent,powerfulbutslow,becameinamomentfrenzied,unstoppableandmad,drivingthegreattrunk,soddenand
threetimesitsformerweight,fasterandfasterasthecurrentwassqueezedmoreandmorebetweenthejaggediceandtheriverbed.Sidewayson,thetreetrunkbatteredbetweenthetwogreatcragsofdownward-pointingice,sendingstrangebutincomprehensibletremorstotheblindwatchersaboveasitboomedandbasheddeepbeneaththem.Andthenit
wasfree,thenowshootingcurrenttakingthetree’ssuper-saturatedweightintoarapidbutshallowclimbtothesurfacesothatitkeptmomentumfromthecurrentsspeedingfromunderneaththeice.Ateightmilestothehour,evenanordinaryrunnercouldhavekeptpacewithitasitheadedtowardsthefleetofboats–butitwasnotthespeedthatmatteredbutits
sizeandterriblesoddenweight.Still,onlysomuchdamagemighthavebeendonehaditnotglancedamid-streamrockwithitssnout;thegreatleviathanoftrunkywoodbegantoturnflattowardstheslowlycrossingfleet.Despitealleffortsto
preventit,thetwentyboatshadbeenbunchedtogetherbytheday’sstrangecurrentsand
theywerenosmallboats–thirty-fivemenineach.Theoakdidnotsomuchsmashintothemasrollthemupandunderasiftheywerehardlythere–barelyacrywentupbeforeeachboatwasatoncestruckbeneaththewaterandturnedoveronitsside.Becauseofthecrowding,elevenboatswentdowninlessthanfifteenseconds.Thetreemovedonintothecold,
wetdarkleavingbehindthreehundredandeighty-fourdrownedmenandonedrownedwoman.
AsIdrisPukkefinishedtellingCalehisgrimnewsthesuncameoutandawarmshaftoflightcamethroughthepartlystainedglasswindows,projectingdelicatebluesandredsontothetableandilluminatingthebrightdustin
theair.‘It’scertain?’saidVague
Henri.‘Asthesethingseverare.
Mymanisreliableandsaidhesawherbodybeforeheleft.’‘Whatwasthecause?’‘It’sthoughtawallofice
thatbrokeawayfromabiggerfieldupstream.Badluck,that’sall.’‘Butyoupredictedit,’said
Cale,softly.‘Tobeunfairtomy
prodigiouspowersofforesight,Ialwaysmakeitapointtopredictmoreorlesseverypossibleoutcome.Itcouldhaveaseasilysucceededasitfailed.’‘Canitbekeptasecret?’
askedVagueHenri.‘Hadtheyalllivedorall
drowned,perhaps.Notnow…I’dsaythat…’
‘She’sagreatloss,’interruptedCale,awkwardlyandinanoddtoneofvoice.‘Yes,’saidIdrisPukke.
‘Shewasaremarkableyoungwoman.’Nobodysaidanything.
TherewasaknockonthedoorandLascellesthebutlercreptintotheroom.‘Aletterforyou,sir,’he
saidtoIdrisPukke,whotookitandwavedLascellesaway,
waitinguntilhelefttheroombeforespeaking.‘There’ssomethingiffyaboutthatman.Hiseyesaretooclosetogether.’Heopenedtheletter.‘ApparentlyBoseIkardknowsaboutthecrossingandArtemisia.’‘How?’saidVagueHenri.‘ThesamewaythatIknew
aboutit,Isuppose.’‘No…howdoyouknow
BoseIkardknows?’
‘KittytheHare’sredbooksarelikewindowsintothesoulsofthegreatandgoodofSpanishLeeds.Littlebirdseverywheresing.’‘What’shegoingtodo?’
askedCale.‘He’sgottwochoices,I’d
say:goalongwithwhatwesayuntilhehasachancetouseitwhenthingsgetreallybad;oruseittoarrestusnowandmakepeacewiththe
Redeemers.’ThisstartledVagueHenri,
whohadplannedtobecock-of-the-walkforatleastsixmonthsmore.‘Youreallythinkhe’lldothat?’‘Onbalance?No.It’snot
enoughtobesureofvictory.Heknowstheconsequencesifhegetsitwrong.He’lllayitdowninthecellartillhecanuseit.Butwehavetobequickoffthemark,present
thisasaheroicefforttreacherouslybetrayed–noblewoman,daringraid,heroic.Lastwords.’Calelookedathim.‘Sorry,’saidIdrisPukke.‘I’velivedtoolongandhavetoomanybadhabits.Butwewon’thonourhermemorybyallowingittobeseenasatotaldisaster.Ithastobeseenasaheroicfailure.’‘Itwasaheroicfailure.’
‘Onlyifwepresentitasone.Peopleneedstoriesofindividualdaring,ofcourageandselflesssacrifice,ofnearvictoryandtreacherousstabsintheback.’‘Let’shopewegetthem
then,’saidVagueHenri.‘Hopehasnothingtodo
withit,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Ihavemypeoplewritingthemnow.They’llbepostedalloverthecitybytomorrow
morning.’HeturnedtoCale,feelinghimselfmean-spiritedandcynical.‘I’msorryforyourloss.It’sapitydeathtookheroffsosoon.’IdrisPukkeleftthetwo
boys,thesoftsunlightbeamingthroughthewindowsasifthehousewereadomesticcathedralblessedbyangels.‘Whenareyouaway?’
Calesaidatlast.
‘Tomorrow.Early.’Anotherlongsilence.‘I’msorryforyourloss,
too,’saidVagueHenri.‘Don’tknowwhatelsetosay.Ilikedher.’‘Shedidn’tlikeme.Notin
theend.’Anothersilence.‘Well,’saidVagueHenri,
‘you’reeasytogetwrong.’AsnortofderisionfromCale.VagueHenricontinuedtrying
tobecomforting.‘Itwasn’tyourfault.It’sjusthowthingsare.’‘Idon’tknow,’saidCale,
afteramoment.‘Idon’tknowhowIfeelabouthernowshe’sdead.Idon’tfeeltherightway,that’sforsure.’
PARTFOUR‘Nowgo,attacktheAmalekites,andtotallydestroyallthatbelongstothem.Donotsparethem;puttodeathmenandwomen,childrenandinfants,cattleandsheep,camelsanddonkeys.’
1Samuel15:3
31
TheRedeemerscrossedtheMississippiinApril,andtoalandinglargelyunresisted.Thescoutstheysentoutacrossthegentlyrollingplains,whichextendedforthreehundredmilesfromthe
southbankoftheriver,returnedwiththenewsthatalmosteveryvillage,townandcitywasdesertedandnotonlyofpeople.Allanimals,frompigstocowstorabbits,weregonealongwiththepopulation.Thefieldswereleftunsownwithwheatorbarleyandlefttothepoppies,whichhadcomeearlywiththeunseasonablywarmweather.‘It’sbeautiful,’said
aRedeemerscoutonhisreturn.‘Idoubtifthefieldsofheavenitselfcanmatchit:mileaftermileofpoppyandeyebright,helleboreandDeptfordpinks,touch-me-notandfine-leavedvetch.Butdamnalltoeatforfifteendaysinanydirection.Unlessyou’reacoworahorse.’Thescouthadpresumed
toomuchonCale’sgenerosity.Hehadno
intentionofallowingtheRedeemerstofeedtheiranimals.Assoonasthegroundwassoftenoughhe’dorderedthewomenandchildrenoutintothefieldsandinsteadofsowingwheatandbarleyhadthemplantingCrazyCharlie,StringhatandStinkingWilly–allpoisonoustoruminants.Therewasconsiderableangeratthis:‘Whatwillhappen,’
theycried,‘toouranimalswhenwereturn?’‘I’dworryaboutthat,’said
Cale,‘ifyoureturn.’However,he’dcarefully
mappedthepoisonedareas,whichreassuredthemthoughthathadn’tbeenhisintention–hehadjustwantedtoknowwhereitwassafetofeedthehorsesthatdrewthewarwagons.ItwasGeneralRedeemer
PrincepsandhisFourthArmywho’dcomeacrosstheMississippifirst,veteransofthedestructionoftheMaterazziatSilburyHill.PrincepsknewverywellwhatCalewascapableof,havingfollowedcarefullymuchoftheboy’splanfortheinvasionofMaterazziterritorywhenhewasstillattheSanctuary.Heknewthatoncehecrossedthe
Mississippitherewouldbeuglythingswaitingforhimandhismen.Hehadn’texpectedthelandingtobeunopposed,buthadexpectedthedecisionnottoplant.Buthehadn’texpectedthesowingoftoxicherbstopoisonhishorsesandsheep.Ittookseveralweekstobringinfodderandlongertofindanyonewhocouldidentifytheplantscausingthe
problem.He’dexpectedhewouldhavetoholdabridgeheadonthesouthbankwhiletheAxistriedtopushthembackintotheMississippi.Instead,hehadthreehundredmilestodowith,soitappeared,ashewished.Calehadturnedtheprairieintoaflowerywasteland.Supplyingalargearmyinthisdesertofredandyellowandpinkwouldmean
asignificantrethinkandmoretime.Fornow,PrincepsstayedclosetotheriverandorganizedthemeanstosupportanewplantoadvanceonSwitzerland.Itwasaweekintothishiatusthatafive-hundred-strongforceofmountedRedeemerinfantry–theirhorsesnowmuzzledagainstthepoisonswaitingfortheminthegrass–encounteredamostpeculiar
sight:somekindofroundwoodenfort,notlarge,containingaboutthreeacresandwithaditchdugallthewayaroundit.WhenRedeemerPartiger
wasbroughtforwardbyhisscoutstotakealook,hesaidaquietprayertoStMarthaofLesbos,patronsaintofthosewhorequiredprotectionfromtheunexpected.Shehadearnedherplaceamongthe
listoftheholybecauseofthestrangenatureofhermartyrdom–shehadbeenforcedtoswallowasix-sidedhookonastring,withhingesoneachhooksothatthedevicecouldtravelthroughherdigestivesystemwithoutcatching.Sometwelvehourslater,whenherexecutionersfeltthehookhadtravelledfarenough,theyhauledonthestringandpulledherinside
out.InRedeemerdogma,ingenuitywasalwaysportrayedasathreatandhencetheneedforasaintwithaspecificresponsibilitytointercedetoprotectthefaithfulfromitsperils.‘Sendsomeoneforward
underawhiteflag,’saidPartiger.Severalminuteslater,a
riderunderaflagoftruceapproachedtowithinabout
fiftyyardsofthewarwagons.‘In…’Whateverhewasgoingto
saywascutshortbyacrossbowboltinthemiddleofhischest.‘Whyhashestopped?’said
Partiger–thenveryslowlythemessengerslumpedtoonesideofthehorseandfelloff.ThewatchingRedeemers
wereoutragedatthisbreachintherulesofwar,despitethe
factthattheyneveracknowledgedsuchlawsthemselves.Giventhis,therewascertainlynoparticulardisadvantagetokillingtheheraldbutitwas,infact,anaccident.Thesniperwho’dshotthemessengerhadmerelytakenabeadonthemanasaprecaution–butthewagonswerecrampedinsideandanervousformerhop-pickerhadmovedandjogged
hisarm.‘Iwonderwhathe
wanted?’calledoutsomeoneandtherewasanervousburstoflaughter.Partigerconsideredwhatto
donext.TheRedeemerswereskilledenoughatsiegewarfarebutthetrebuchetstheyusedwereextremelyheavyandthefewthey’dbroughtwereallontheothersideoftheMississippi
becausetherewerenoimportantwalledtownswithinthreehundredandfiftymilesoftheriver.Itwouldtakeseveralweekstogetonehere.Besides,thefortwasn’tverybiganditwasofwoodnotstone.Despitehisunderstandableuneasinessatthenoveltyofwhatwasinfrontofhim,heknewhe’dbeexpectedtofindoutwhatsortofnoveltyitwassohe
couldn’tjustgoaroundit.Howeverstrange,itdidnotlookparticularlyformidable.Heorderedanattackbythreehundred.Fiftyofthemwerearmouredcavalry–aninnovationbytheRedeemersthemselves–therestweremorelightly-protectedmountedinfantry.Partigerwatchedashis
menspreadaroundthewagonswiththeintentionof
attackingfromfourdirections.Whiletheywerewaiting,Partigerstruckupaconversationwithhisnewlyappointedsecond-in-command,RedeemerGeorgeBlair.HedidnottrustorlikeBlair,whowaspartofaneworderofSanctuarines,establishedbyPopeBoscohimselfto‘aidfidelityinallRedeemerunitsandensureactionsfreeofdoctrinalor
moralerrors.’Inotherwords,hewasaspywhosetaskitwastoensurethatBosco’snewreligiousattitudesandthemartialtechniquesthatwentwiththemwereobeyedwithoutquestion.Partigersomewhat
surprisedBlairbyengaginginaconversationthathadnothingtodowiththeattackonthewoodenfort.‘Iwasthinking,’said
Partiger,‘ofembarkingontheSeventy-fourActsofAbasement.’‘What?’‘Theseventy-fouractsof
homagetotheauthorityofthePope.’‘Iknowwhattheyare,’
saidBlair,irritably.‘Idon’tunderstandtherelevance–abattle’sabouttostart.’AmIbeingtestedtosaythe
wrongthing?thought
Partiger.Hedecidedhewas.‘Wemustkeepoureyeson
eternallifeeveninthemidstofdeath.’‘There’satimefor
everything.Thisisn’tit.’‘Butsurely,’continued
Partiger,‘ifIweretoweardriedpeasinmyshoesandabstainfromdrinkingwateronhotdaysandwhipmyselfwithnettlesinanactofmortificationofakindthat
thesaintsendured,andwhichleavesusaghastwithadmiration,’hehadlearnedthephraseaboutbeingaghastbyheartfromapapalletter,‘thenwouldInotbemoreopentothewisdomofGodandabetterleadertomymen?’FinallyBlairturnedtolook
athimsquareon,aghasthimself,butnotinadmiration.
‘Yes,youare,ofcourse,correct.I’dsaythatthemorepainyouinflictonyourselfthebetter.’‘Really?’‘Yes.Iunderstandself-
flagellationwithawhipmadefromscorpiontailsisespeciallyeffectiveinthisregard.’Heturnedbacktothebattle,leavingPartigertoconsiderscorpiontails.Itsoundedpainful.Still,he
rememberedPadrePio’swords:Whenmortifyingtheflesh,makesurethatithurts.Eighthundredyardsaway,
thebattlehadbegun.Atfirsttherewereonlyfeintsfromthreegroupsoftencavalry,meanttotriggeraresponsesothattheycouldsizeupthestrengthoftheoccupants.Therewasnone.Closeup,theycouldseetheditcharoundthewagonwasnot
particularlydeepbutwasfullofsharpenedsticks.Oneofthemrammedtheirheaviestlanceintooneofthewagonstoseehowstableandwell-builtitwas.Nothingtowritehomeabout,hesaid,whenhereturned.Soitwasdecidedtorushinfromallfoursides,thesignalbeingavolleyoffortyorsoarrowsintothecentreofthefort.Thearrowswentup,themenrushedthewagons
andCale’sNewModelArmyanditswayofmakingwarcametoitsfirstgreattest.Thetroubleforthe
Redeemerswasthattheylackedanyofthebasictools–noladders,nobatteringramsandonlyafewropes.Oncetheygotintotheditchtheydroppeddownonlyafewfeet,butwiththesidesofthewagonwallsatsixfoottalltheywereninefeetaway
fromtheirwooden-wall-protectedopponents.AssoonastheRedeemersattacked,theslotwindowswerepartlyopenedandVagueHenri’slightcrossbowswentintoaction.Theywereshotatadistanceofonlyafewfeet–theyweresoclosetotheiropponentsitdidn’tmattertheyweresomuchlesspowerful.Intherestrictedspacebowswereuselessbut
thecrossbowsweredevastating,particularlynowtheycouldbereloadedsoquickly.Theroofofthewagonwasdouble-hingedsothatitcouldbepushedupandovertoeithersidedependingoncircumstances.Thistimetheyflewoffwiththeroofscrashingbackwardstotheinsideofthefort.ImmediatelyhalfadozenpeasantsandonePenitent
stoodupand,withmostoftheirbodiesprotectedbythewallofthewagon,startedtostabandswingdownintothemassofRedeemersstandingintheditch.TheflailswithleadballsandspikesdidhugedamagecrushingthefleshundertheRedeemers’lightarmour,thoughitcouldpenetratetoo.Excitableintheirsuccessandinexperience,someofthe
polemenleantoutandexposedtoomuchoftheirupperbodies,andacouplewentdowntoarchers.‘Keepunderguard!Stay
in!Stayin!’ThePurgatorsineach
wagonhadtokeeppullingbacktheover-eagerpeasantsastheyenjoyedthethrillofhurtinganopponentwithoutthembeingabletohitback.TheRedeemers,tentimesthe
soldiersofthemenwhowerewoundingthemwitheveryblow,wereimpotent.Theywerefourfeetfurtherawayfromtheirenemythantheycouldreach.Theycouldn’tgetunderthewagonseither,andthewheelswerecoveredwithearthtostopropefrombeingtiedaroundthespokes.Theirpositionwashopeless.Afterfiveminutestheywithdrew–butnotwithout
beingpickedoffbythecrossbowmen,nowabletostandupandtakegoodaimattheretreatingpriests,manyofthemmovingslowlybecauseoftheblowstotheirupperthighsandknees.Thepeasantsstoodand
cheered.ThePurgatorstoldthemtoshutup.‘They’regoingtogetbetter
everydayattakinguson.Canyousaythesame?’
Thisquietenedthemdownbuttheyweredelightedwiththeirfirstmouthfulofkilling.TheRedeemerswithdrew
backtoPartiger,whowasbemusedaswellasangry.HeberatedthemenwhileBlairwalkedaroundandexaminedthewounded.‘Didn’tyouinflictany
damage?’‘Wethinkwegota
handful,’saidoneofthe
centenars.‘Ahandful?Wehavethirty
dead.Andforwhat?Anyway,thatwasthearchers,notyou.Howmanydidyoukill?’‘Youcan’tkillsomeoneif
youcan’treachthem.’‘Don’tanswerback!’
shoutedPartiger.‘Whataboutthegrappling
hook?’askedBlair.Therewasonlyoneinthewholeunit.Noonesawtheneedfor
more.‘Ionlygotitonthesidefor
thirtysecondsbeforetheycutit,’saidthesergeantwho’dusedit.‘ButIgotagoodpullonitfrommyhorse.Moremightdoit–butthewagonwastethereddownfarin.We’llhavetopullthemapartnotjusttopple’em.Strongerhorses,biggerhooksandchainsnotropesmightdoit.Buttheycanpickoffthe
horsesrealeasy.’‘Whataboutfire?They’re
justmadeofwood,yes?’‘Mightwork,sir,butwood
won’tburn’lessyoucangetalotoffiregoing.’‘Arrows?’‘Realeasytoputout.I’ve
seensomeusedatSalernohadoilandpackingtosetafire.Neverdoneitmyself.’‘Aword,’saidBlairto
Partiger.Theywalkedtoone
side.‘Anyideas?’‘Asiege,perhaps?’‘They’veprobablygot
morefoodthanwehave.Besides–whyaretheyhere?There’snothingworthprotecting.’‘Look,Redeemer,’said
Partiger.‘We’renotreallyequipped,asyousay.Weshouldwithdrawandreportthis.Thisisforsiegetroopsnotmountedinfantry.’
Thiswasafairpoint.‘Didyounoticeanythingaboutthewounded?’saidBlair,knowingthathehadnot.‘Thewounded?’‘Yes.Theirwounds–
they’remostlycrushingwounds:head,hands,elbows.’‘Yes?’‘They’renotgoingtoheal
quickly–oratall–mostofthem.’
‘Yourpoint,Redeemer?’‘Whatifit’sdeliberate?’Theydidn’tgettimeto
continuethediscussion.FiftySwisscavalryemergedfromthefortandsweptthroughtheunpreparedRedeemercamp,killingahundredandscatteringtherest.Withinfifteenminutestheywerebackinsidetheprotectiveringofwagonsjustasthesunwentdown.
ThetraumatizedRedeemerspulledoutfromtheirpositionduringthenightbutwithinanhourofdawntheSwisswerebackastheytriedtoretreat.Theywerebadlyhamperedintheireffortstowithdrawbythenumerouswoundedfromtheattackonthebastion,whichhaddeliveredmuchmoreinthewayofbrokenarmsandsmashedkneesthanthefatalitiesofthe
unexpectedSwissattackjustbeforedark.Thedeadcouldjustbeleftbehind.TheSwisskeptupacontinuouslongdistancesnipingfromthedozenheavy-dutycrossbowsVagueHenrihadassignedtoeachwagonfort.EveryfewminutestherewereskirmishesfromthemoreexpertSwisscavalry,whowouldraceinandpickoffstragglersthenrunaway
beforetheable-bodiedRedeemerguardscouldrespond.Bythetimetheyleftoffandreturnedtothebastion,Redeemernumberswerehalfwhattheyhadbeenwhentheyfirstseteyesonthefortthreedaysearlier.TheNewModelArmyhadlosttendeadandelevenwounded.Blair,thoughnotPartiger,
survivedtogiveareportandtourgeaswiftresponse.But
itwasanoddstoryandentirelyisolatedsonooneinthelowerlevelsofauthorityBlaircouldreachtookhimseriously.ButoverthenextfewweeksthegeneralheadquartersoftheRedeemerFourthArmywereforcedtochangetheiropinion.Thebastionsstartedturningupinincreasingnumbersandcausingterriblecasualties.Nowawareofthedanger,
theysentoutheavilyarmedcounterforcesequippedwithladders,siegehooksandsiegetorchesbutbythetimetheyarrivedthebastionswerelonggone.Oncehewasmadeawareoftheproblem,Princeps,furiousatthedelay,doubledthenumberofhispatrolsinordertoidentifybastionsitesquicklyandbringlargerforcestobearonthem.Butitwasherethat
Artemisia’sscoutscameintoplay:operatingmostlyontheirown,theywereabletoprovideconstantinformationaboutRedeemermovements.Ineffect,eachwagonfortoperatedatthecentreofawebofinformationuptofiftymilesinalldirections.AnysmallRedeemerforcetheycouldignore,anythingsomewhatlargertheycouldresistandanythinglarger
thanthattheycouldmovewithhalfanhour’snoticeandhavevanishedbythetimeamajorforcehadarrived.Therewasnocatchingthemeither–MichaelNevin’swagonscouldmovemuchfasterthananyRedeemerarmy.TheRedeemerswerecaughtinatrap:small,lightunitscouldcatchupwiththebastionsbutwerenotstrongenoughtobreakin;heavy
unitsthatmighthavesucceededweretooslow.Therewasamonthofthis
fightingbeforetheRedeemersmanagedtodelayabastionlongenoughtocatchthemwithathousandheavyinfantryarmedwithsiegeweapons.Ittookfourdaystobreakintothecampandannihilatetheoccupants.ThiswasablowtotheNewModelArmy,puffedupbya
monthofeasyvictoriesanddespitethewarningsofthePurgatorsandLaconicswhotrainedthemthatadefeatwasinevitable.TherewasmuchcorrespondingjoyinvictoryfromPrincepswhenheheardthenews–butitdidn’tlastonceheheardthedetails:thelivesoftwohundredSwisspeasantshadcomeatthepriceofnearlyfourhundredRedeemers,andanother
hundredwiththecrushingwoundsthattooksolongtohealandusedupsomuchinthewayofresources.AsworryingwasthereportofoneofPrinceps’personalcentenars,whohe’dorderedtotakepartinthesiegetogivehimapropersenseofthebattleandthesoldierswhofoughtit.‘Itwasmurderousgetting
in,Redeemer,ashardasany
fightingI’veeverdone.They’darrangeditsothatwewereeasytohitbuttostrikebackwasalmostimpossible.Butoncewegotinside,thatwastheshock–theyhadafewsoldiers,maybefifty,whoknewwhattheyweredoingandwerehardworkbuttheoneswho’dbeenkillingusforthreedays–oncewewereinsideanditwashandtohand–itwaslikecutting
downbigchildren.’Fromthenontheproblem
facingPrincepswashowtobreaktheshelltogetatthesoftinsides.TheproblemforCalewasthatthecreationofthewarwagonshadbeenfartoosuccessfulforitsowngood.TheirsuccesseshadbeensoeasyandsocomprehensivethattheNewModelArmywasdeaddrunkonitstriumphs.Thedefeats,
whentheystartedtocome,windedthembadly–therewere,afterall,nosurvivors.Fromeuphoricarrogancetodemoralizedfailurewassuchashortstepandsogreatafallthatanemergency(onemightalmosthavesaidapanic)meetingwasheldhalfwaybetweentheMississippiplainsandSpanishLeeds.Calewassickerthanusual,ithadbeenabadfewweeks,
buthewasforcedintoawarwagonfilledwithmattressesand,alongwithIdrisPukkeandVipond,triedtosleephiswaytoPotsdamwherethemeetinghadbeenarrangedwithFanshawe,VagueHenriandtheCommitteeofTenAntagonistChurches.OnthewayintoPotsdam,he’ddecidedtogetoutandride.Forallitspaddingtheconvertedwarwagonwas
uncomfortablewhenhecouldn’tsleep,andtodayallhisoldwounds–finger,headandshoulder–werethrobbingandgrindingouttheirclaimsonhisattention(Me,too!theyscreamed,Whataboutus!)Toaddtohismiseryhisrightearwasaching.Heputonacoatandpulledupthehoodagainstthecoldandtokeepthewindawayfromhissoreear.This
wasnotsomethinghewouldnormallydobecauseonlytheRedeemerLordsofDisciplineworehoodsandtheywerenotamemoryhewantedtorevisit.Calewasnow,ofcourse,moreexperiencedinthestrangenessoftheworldthanmanypractisedhandsthreetimeshisage,buthewasastonishedattheelectriceffectevenawordofhispresencehadonthesoldiers
campedonhiswayintothecity.ThemysteriousforcethatmovesrumourwithastonishingspeedthrougheventhelargestandmostdispersedmilitaryforcebroughttheNewModelArmyoutindroveswhereverhewent.Atfirstsighthewasgreetedwithadoringsilencethatquicklyburstintoecstaticcheers,asifheweretheHangedRedeemerentering
intoSalem.Calewasamazedthatsomanycoulddrawsuchpowerfromsosicklyahand-hurting,ear-aching,shoulder-groaningweaklingsuchashim.Uncertainhowtorespond,hethoughtperhapsheshouldspeaktothem;butwhenhetriedtheretching,anhourearlierthanitwasdue,silencedhim,anditwasallhecoulddotokeepitundersomesortofcontrol.Sohe
sat,dog-sick,onhishorseandlookedaboutatthemen,intheirhundredsandthenthousands,inspiredbyhismerepresence.Tothemhispaleandcadaveroussilencewasfarmorepowerfulthananythinghecouldsay,eventhoughhehadlearntadozeninspirationalspeechesfromthewriterwhoseplayshe’dfoundintheSanctuarylibrarythatseemedtocoverthe
entirerangeofwaysinwhichtomanipulateacrowd:Friends,comrades,countrymen,lendmeyourears;or:Oncemoreintothebreach,dearchums;andtheeverdependable:Wefew,wehappyfew,webandofbrothers.Butnotevenatongue
touchedwiththelightedcoalsofGodhimselfcouldhavedonebetterthanhisenforced
silence.Theydidnotwantanythingsofallibleasahumanbeingwhocouldtalktothemmantoman–theywantedtobeledbyanexterminatingangel,notbysomebloke.Hemayhavefeltlikedeathbuthenowlookedthepart.Andthatwaswhatmattered:hewassomethingfatalfromanotherworld,somethingandnotsomeone,whohadmadethempowerful
andall-conqueringinthepastandnowwasheretodothesameagain.Theyneededhimtobeinhuman,theessenceofdeathandplague,tobewasted,paleandskeletalbecausehewasthosethingsandwasontheirside.Thecrywentup–oneortwovoicesatfirstthentens,thenhundredsandthenaroar.‘ANGEL!ANGEL!
ANGEL!ANGEL!ANGEL!’
VipondandIdrisPukke,followingjustbehind,nobeginnersintheseen-it-all-beforeandsurprised-by-nothingstakes,wereleftamazedandevenshakenbywhattheywereseeingandhearingand,aboveall,whattheywerefeeling:eventheywerecarriedalong,likeitornot,bythepowerofthecrowd.Butthepreachersandpadresandmoderatorsofthe
CommitteeofTenChurchesheardittooandrecognizeditforthedevilworshipthatitwas.
‘Iexpectedlossheavierthanthis–andfromthestart–gettingworseastheRedeemersworkedouthowtodealwithus.Thesedeaths.Theycanbereplaced.I’veplannedforthis.’AtiredandirritatedCale
wasinafurtivemeetingsetupbeforetheofficialonewiththeCommitteeofTenChurcheswasduetobegin–itwasthoughtnecessarytogettheirstorystraighttominimizeanyreligiouscontributions.‘ButThomas,darling,’said
Fanshawe,‘whatdidyouexpect?Killingandbeingkilledisaprofession.Thesepeoplearepeasants,saltof
theearth,ofcourse–nodoubt–butfashionedbyalifetimeshovellingshitandgleaningturnips–whatevertheyare…it’snopreparationwhenitcomestothebigredone.Youcan’texpectit.’‘Weneed,’saidCale,‘to
planonlosingonewagontraininthree.Ialwaysexpectedlosseslikethat.’‘Youcanexpectwhatyou
like.Itcan’tbedone,’said
Fanshawe.‘It’snotintheirsoulstodieinthosenumbers–anymorethanit’sinyourstoreapcabbagesandhavecarnalknowledgeofyourmorefetchingsheep.’WhenFanshawewasgone
heleftbehindamiserableinnercircle.‘Isheright,doyouthink?’
saidIdrisPukketoVagueHenri.‘Underneaththepiss-take?
Prettymuch.InthefightatFinnsburghtheRedeemersalmostbrokethrough.Iwasshittingmyselfifyouwanttoknow.Nowtheyknowwhat’scomingiftheRedeemerswinabrawl.Nobodygetsusedtothat.’‘Anyideas?’‘No’Therewasadepressed
silence.‘Ihaveasuggestion.’It
wasVipond.‘ThankGodsomeonehas,’
saidVagueHenri.‘I’dwait,’saidIdrisPukke,
‘untilyouhearditbeforeyougetyourhopesup.’‘Inspiteofmybrother’s
sneers,’continuedVipond,‘Ithinkwesawsomethingremarkabletoday.Theconventionalviewofpeoplelikemyselfisthataleadermustbeeitherlovedorfeared
tobeeffectiveinatimeofcrisis–andgiventhatloveisatrickythingandfearisnotsotricky–thenfearitis.’‘Youwantmetomake
themmoreterrifiedofmethantheyareoftheRedeemers?’‘InothercircumstancesI
don’tseethatyou’dhaveanychoice.’‘Icandothat.’‘I’msureyoucan.But
theremaybeanotherway,lessdamagingtoyoursoul.’‘Mylugholes,’saidCale,
‘areopenaswideasachurchdoor.’‘Good.Yousawyour
effecttodayontheverykindofmanFanshawesaidwasabouttobreak?’‘Yes,Isawit.’‘Whateverseizedthem,it
wasn’tloveorfear.’‘Whatthen?’
‘Idon’tknow.Itdoesn’tmatterwhatitisbutyoucouldfeelitbetweenyourthumbandforefinger–Idon’tknow…belief,perhaps.Itdoesn’tmatterofwhatkind,intheireyeswhereveryouarethegatesofhellareontheirside.’‘Thanks.’‘That’swhythenosesof
theHolyJoeswereoutofjoint.Theyknewwhatpower
wasmovingthroughtheirflock.Butseeingisbelieving,Cale–youneedtobeoutandabout,amongthemeverydayandeverywhere.TheyneedtheExterminatingAngelwheretheycanseehim.Watchingoverthem,workingthroughthem.’Calelookedathim.‘Youmightjustaswellask
metofly.Asfaraswhatwasgoingontoday,Ifeltitall
right,butwhatitwasaboutyoucanreadinthestars.Theysawabadangelwatchingoverthem,Iagree–butitwasallIcoulddonottofalloffmyhorseorthrowupalloverthem.’Hesmiled,oneofthenotsopleasantones.‘Icouldn’tdoitifmylifeandthelifeofeveryonearoundmedependedonit.’Atthispoint–andinaway
thatinothercircumstances
mightberegardedastheatrical–Calethrewuponthefloor.Infact,hefeltalittlebetter
oncethevomitinghadstoppedbutthemeetingwasatanendandso,dish-ragweak,CalelefttheCecilienhoftwhereithadbeenheldandheadedforanight’ssleepattheNo-WorriesPalace.Aseveryoneknewwherehewas,avast
crowdhadcollectedoutsideandatthesightofhimgreatshoutswentup.DespiteBosco’srare
enthusiasmforinformation,andhisdesiretoimproveitsqualityamongstthosewhoservedhiscause,itwasnoteasyforRedeemerstopassthemselvesoffasanythingotherthanwhattheywere.Theyhadpaidbutunreliableinformersandalsofellow
travellers,unofficialconvertstotheOneTrueFaithwhosedesiretobecomeRedeemerswasasintenseastheirreasonswerevague.Theytendedtobethedespised,thefailed,thehurt,theslightlymad,thedeeplyresentful–andoftenforgoodreason.Buttheirlimitationswereplainenough:theywerenotdisciplinedorverycompetent,howeverzealous
theymightbe.Hadtheybeencapableandrooted,it’sunlikelytheywouldhavebeensuchfertilegroundforinsurrection.Butitwasoneofthemorelevel-headedandskilledoftheseconvertswho’dmadehiswaytotheCecilienhoftwhereeveryoneknewCalewasplanningthedestructionofthePope.Therewereguardstherecertainly,butnoonehadexpectedor
plannedforthecrushofthesoldiersoftheNewModelArmydesperatetoseehim,alongwiththepeopleofthecitypackedtogetherwiththemassofrefugeesevacuatedfromtheMississippiplain.Indeed,theconfusionalmostsavedCalefromhisattack–therewasnoplannedrouteandsonowayofbeingsomewherehecouldbeexpectedtopassby.So
crushedwashebythecrowdthattheassassintoowasflotsamandjetsam,compelledtofollowtheflowandswirloftheriverofpeopleasitmovedforwardandback.SometimesCalemovedawayfromhim,sometimesbacktowardshim.Atonepoint,asthecrowdgraspedforatouchofhisclothesorcalledforablessing,anoldwomanwho
musthavebeenstrongerthanshelookedforcedasmalljarintohishand:‘TheashesofStDeidreoftheSorrows–blessthem,please!’Inthegeneralrackethecouldn’tproperlyhearwhatshewassaying;hethoughttheasheswereagiftanddidn’twanttobeunkind.Giventhestateofhimshewouldprobablyhavehadthestrengthtograbitbackbutthecrowddecided
andsweptherawayasshecriedoutforherdreadfulloss.WithVagueHenriand
IdrisPukkeagoodtenyardsbehind,theexhaustedCalewasspilledintoabreakinthecrowdmadebythefewguardswhohadbeenabletostaywithhimbutwherehismurderercouldfinallygettohim,too.Thewould-beassassinwasnoskilledkiller
andit’shardtohidethelookofsomeonewithslaughteronhismind.ItwaswithinasecondorlessthatCalesawhimcomingathimanditwashiseyesthatgavehimaway.Kitten-weakandwearyashewas,millionsofnervescametohisaidlikeangelsand,asthemanbroughttheknifedowntohischest,CaletookthelidoffthejarofDeidre’sashesandthrewitinhisface.
Asanyonewillknowwhohaslookedcloselyattheashesofthedeadtheyarenotlikeashesmuchatall,moregravelthananythingfineenoughtoeasilyblindaman.ButCalewasluckythattheserelicswerefakesandconsistedoftheclinkerfromtheforger’sfire.Theeffectwasinstant:interriblepainthemurderercriedoutanddroppedtheknifetotryto
clearthespikycindersfromhiseyes.Thefewguardsaroundwerequickenoughtograbtheassassinandthey’dalreadystabbedhimthreetimesintheheatoftheirpanicbeforetheyrealizedCalewasshoutingatthemtostop.Anychanceofgettingsomethingusefuloutofthemanwasgone.CalestoodandwatchedasVagueHenriandIsdrisPukkejoinedhim.
Perhapsitwasthemixtureofsuddenfrightandexhaustion,buthethoughthehadneverseenbloodsoredorashessowhite.Themurderermutteredsomethingbeforehiseyesrolledintothebackofhishead.‘Whatdidhesay?’asked
Cale.Theguardwho’dbeen
closesttothedeadmanlookedatCale,shockedand
confusedbywhathadhappened.‘I’mnot…I’mnotsure,
sir.Itsoundedlike“Doyouhaveit?”’
‘Youlookgruesome,’saidVagueHenri.‘TheAngelofDeathwarmedup.’Calehadcomebackinto
theroomfromboakingupinthejakesofhisapartmentattheNo-WorriesPalace,a
newlybuiltrefugewithallthemostrecentinnovationsinplumbing.Fortunatelyhehadheldoffvomitinginfrontofthecrowd;hisslowandfragiledeparturewasinterpretedbyallwhowitnessedit–andevenmorestronglybythosewhodidn’t–asasignofhisetherealdetachmentfromeventhemostterrifyingevents.Helaydownonthebedandlooked
sodreadfulthatVagueHenrirepentedofhislackofsympathy.Hewas,intruth,angrywithCalefornearlyhavingdied.‘CanIgetyouanything?’‘Acupoftea,’saidCale.
‘Withsugarlumps.’WithVagueHenrigone,
CalewasleftalonewithIdrisPukke.‘Ithoughtyouwerefeeling
better?’
‘Metoo…butImadethemistakeoftryingtodosomething.’IdrisPukkewalkedoverto
thewindowandstaredoutoverthenewlyinstalledlavendermaze.‘Thethingis,’hesaid,
‘Vipondisright.WithoutyoutofirethemupIcanonlyseeitgoingoneway,tobefrank.’Caledidn’treply.‘Isupposetakingthatstuffyour
witch-doctorgaveyouwouldn’thelp?’‘Intoahole,sixbytwo.’‘Pity.’AthoughtstruckCale,
tiredashewas.‘Thatwomanwhogaveme
Stsomebodyorother’sashes.Ididn’tthinktheAntagonistsbelievedinrelics–orsaints.’‘Antagonismisapretty
broadchurch,whichistosaytheyhaveanexpansive
numberofwaysofloathingeachother.ShemusthavebeenaPiscopalian–they’reprettymuchjustlikeRedeemersinwhattheybelieveexcepttheydon’taccepttheauthorityofthePope.Theotherscan’tabidethembecauseofalltheritualandsaintworshipbutmostlybecausetheybelieveintheVerglassApocalypse–theythinktheworldwasonce
nearlydestroyedbyiceasapunishmentfromGodandthatiniceitwillend.’‘So?’‘TheothersinsistthatGod
useswatertodisciplinemankind–iceisablasphemousinventionfromthemindofheretics.’‘Ineedtosleep.’Afewsecondslaterhe
heardthedoorcloseandinsecondshewasout.
Hewasinavalleysurroundedbyhighandcraggymountainssweptbywindandlightning.Hewastiedtoapost,armsandlegsbound,andasmallcatwaseatinghistoes.Allhecoulddowasspitatittodriveitoff.Atfirstthecatretreatedbutasheranoutofslobberthecatslowlymadeitswaybacktohisfeetandbeganeatingthemagain.Helookedupand
inthedistancehecouldseeanenormouspuppetPolllaughingandholdingoutanakedfoot,twiddlinghertoestoshowthatshestillhadthemandshouting,‘Eatup,kitty,kitty!’Nexttoher,oneachoftheothermountainridgesthatsurroundedthevalleyhesawthreeversionsofhimselfstrikingatheatricalpose.Inonehewasholdinghisswordpointingatthe
ground,inanotherhewaskneelingonahighrockwithamassivelyornateswordheldacrosshischest.ThefinalversionofCalewasonthehighestofalltheridges,legsakimbo,backarchedasifhewasabouttosoarintotheair,withhiscloakflailingbehindhimlikearaggedwing.Butwhatstruckhimmostwasthathewashoodedinallofthem,hisface
completelyobscuredinshadow.Ineverwearahood,hethoughttohimself,andthenthecatstartedeatinghistoesagainandhewokeup.
‘Ihadadream,’hesaidtoIdrisPukkeandVagueHenriafewhourslater.‘Whatwouldittake,’said
IdrisPukke,‘foryounottotellittome?’‘Therewasthreeofyou?’
saidVagueHenriwhenCalehadfinished.‘I’dcallthatanightmare.’‘Youcansmirkallyou
like,’saidCale,andthensmiledhimself.‘IneversawthehandofGodsoclearinanything.’‘Ican’tsayIfeelthe
same,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Perhapsyou’dliketoexplainitforthoseofuswithoutadirectlinetoGodAlmighty.’
‘Imaginetherewerethirtyofme–sparemethejokes.’‘Allright.’‘Yousawwhathappened
today.Ididn’tdoanything–Iwasjustthere.Theydiditall;Ididnothing.Theyneededsomeonetosavethem.’‘There’snothingmuchto
that,’saidVagueHenri.‘Youalreadyhavesavedthem.Theywantyoutodoitagain,that’sall.There’snothing
magicaboutit.’‘You’rewrong,’said
IdrisPukke.‘I’veseengeneralsworshippedbythecrowdsforsomegreatvictory.Buttheydon’twantamannow,theywantagod,becauseonlytheunearthlycansavethem.’VagueHenrilookedat
Cale.‘Isn’tthatwhatBosco
wantedyoutobe?’
‘Well,ifyoucancomeupwithanythingbetter,yougobshite,bemyguest.’‘Children!’said
IdrisPukke.‘Playnicelytogether.’HeturnedtoCale.‘Goon.’‘Theydon’tneedme–they
needtheLeftHandofGod.Sowegiveittothem.That’swhatthedreamwastellingme–allthatstandingonamountaininacloakand
wavingasword.Beseen!itwassaying–butwhereyoucan’tbetouched,showthemyou’rewatchingoverthem.Wherevertheyfight,thereI’llbe;wherevertheydie,thereI’llbe.Lose–thereI’llbe.Win–thereI’llbe.Inthedarkestnight–orinthebrightestday.’‘Butyouwon’t,though,
willyou?’saidVagueHenri.‘Allright,it’salie.So
what?It’sfortheirowngood.’IdrisPukkelaughed.‘VagueHenriisquite
wrong,’hesaid.‘Don’tthinkofitasalie,thinkofitasthetruthunderimaginarycircumstances.’‘Whataboutthecateating
yourtoes?’askedVagueHenri.‘Whatdoesthatmean?’‘Itwasjustastupid
dream.’
CaleshouldhaverestedforaweekbuttherewasnotimeandinthreedayshewasbackinSpanishLeeds,havingworkedoutthedetailsofhisforgeries.‘Numbers.’‘Twenty.’‘Toomany.’‘Theydon’thavetodo
anything–they’renot
impersonatingme.Theyjusthavetobegoodatstrikingposes.Apantomimeisallweneed.Thetheatresareshutsowe’llhaveourpick.’‘Andiftheytalk?’‘WeputthefearofGod
intothem.Andpaythemdecentmoney.Andkeepthemisolatedandwatched–fourpeopleatalltimes.’Whentheyarrivedbackit
wastosomeupsettingnews
forCale.‘Weheardyouweredead.’Theunusualthingwasthat,
despitethefactitwasuntrue,theissueofaformalconfirmationthatCalewasindeedalivedidn’tdomuchtostoptherumourthathewasdeadfromgainingground.Morestronglywordedofficialdenialswereissued.‘Neverbelieveanything,’saidIdrisPukke,
‘untilthere’sanofficialdenial.You’vebeeninvitedtoanengagementatthePalace–withtheKing.Hethinksitmightbetrue.’‘Hewishesitweretrue,’
saidCale.‘I’mintwomindsabout
what’sattherootofallthis–theattempttokillyouatPotsdam,obviously.ButIdon’tthinktheywantyoudead–notyet.Nodoubtin
thefullnessoftimeifyouweretofalloffacliffitwouldbeveryacceptable.Butnotnow.Forthepresentthey’remoreworriedabouttheRedeemersthantheyareaboutyou.’‘ShouldIgo?’‘Ithinkso.Thisisonelie
thatwon’tbedoinganygood–besttostrangleitnow.Ifwecan.’‘ButI’mnotdead,’saidan
exasperatedCale.‘It’sridiculous.’‘Butprovingthatisn’tso
easy.’‘ButI’llbethere.They’ll
beabletoseeme.’‘Whatifyou’rean
imposter?’
OnepersonwhohadnomixedfeelingsatallaboutthepossibilityofCalebeingdeadwasBoseIkard.Hearranged
forpriorityininvitationstobegiventothosewhohadmetCaleinthepast.ButCalekepthisinnercircleprettyclose–andtheyweren’tvulnerabletoIkard’spromisesorthreats.Hedecidedtopursue
anothertack:sex.ItwasnotsubtlebutBosewastoooldandexperiencedtobelievetherewasanyparticularvirtueinsubtlety.Thewalls
ofhisapartmentswere,sotospeak,clutteredwiththemountedheadsofsophisticatedopponentswhohadlookeddownonhispowersofdiscriminationasrathercrudeandhaddonesorightuptothemomenthe’dhadthemkilled.He’doncehadIdrisPukkesentencedtodeath–amistake,henowconceded;he’dswappedhimforsomeonewhosedeath,at
thetime,seemedmorepressing.ThetruthwasthatBosewasafraidofIdrisPukkebecausehewasanartfulmanwithapenetratinggraspofcomplexmatters,abletoputthebootinwhenitwascalledfor.ItwasthisrespectfulloathingthatfuelledhisbeliefintherumoursaboutCalebeingdead.ItwasthekindofthinghefearedIdrisPukkecouldpulloff.Thiswaswhy
hewastalkingtoDorothyRothschild.Dorothywascertainlynotawhorebutshewassomethinglikeone:reassuringlyexpensive,thoughnofeeassuchwasevernegotiated.Herrewardcameintheshapeofaccesstopower,introductionsconcerningexpensivecontractsforthisandthat–shewentonherbackcushionedbytheexpensive
silkensheetsofenormousinfluence.Intruth,Dorothywasa
deeplyinterestingwomanbutshedidn’tlooklikeone:shelookedlikesex.IftwofrustratedyoungmenwithalittleartisticflairhadthoughtupthewomanoftheirdesiresanddrawnheronpapershemighthavelookedlikeDorothy:hairlongandblondetothepointofbeing
white,ofmediumheight,awaisttinierthanthatofayoungboy,breastsbiggerthanwasreallyplausibleonsuchatinyframe,legsimprobablylongforsomeoneundersixfoottall.Sheshouldn’thavebeenpossiblebutthereshewas.Shehadacorrosivewit,
keptmostlyundercontrol,bornoutofhersensitivity,whichwasconsiderable.Her
intelligenceandemotionalinsighthadbeensetonthewrongpathbyadreadfuleventwhenshewasnineyearsold.Heroldersister,belovedbyall,hadgoneonapicnictoanearbylakewithfamilyfriends,whereshehaddrownedwhenaboatcapsized.Onhearingthenewsthedeadchild’smother,notrealizingheryoungestwasstandingbehindher,
calledout:‘Whycouldn’tithavebeenDorothy?’Evenanemotionalclod
wouldhavebeenmarkedforlifebythisandDorothywasveryfarfromthat.Butthewittinessshedevelopedtodeflecttheworldoftenoutrageditandshewasconstantlyhavingtoapologizeforthisorthatwoundingremark.Shehadmarriedyoungbutwithintwo
yearsherhusbandhadbeenkilledinawarvitaltothesurvivalofthenationforreasonsthatnoonecouldnowremember.Asapersonfromafamilyofminorimportanceshehadnaturallybeenvisitedbyminorroyalty,amatriarchsetasideforstatecondolences.She’dbeenaskedbyherregalvisitoriftherewasanythingshecoulddoforher–theproper
answerbeingno.‘Getmeanotherhusband.’
Itwasoutbeforesheknewit.Itresultedintheappalledmatriarchgivingheranangrytellingoffformakinglightofherlatehusband’stragicsacrifice.‘Inthatcase,’saidan
unrepentantDorothy,‘howaboutgoingandgettingmeaporkpiefromtheshoponthecorner?’
ItwasthisoutragethatledtoDorothybeingostracizedfromallbutthemarginsofsocietyandendingup,aftermanyadventuresonthewildershoresoflove,asthegreatestandleastperpendicularofallthegreathorizontalsofthefourquarters.ItwasthisreputationthatbroughthertothechairoppositeBoseIkard.‘SoIwantyoutocharm
thelittlemonster.’‘Won’titbetooobvious?’‘That’sreallyyour
problem.Icanhaveyouintroducedinnocentlyenough,thenit’suptoyou.’Hepassedafileovertoher.‘Readthis.’Hebeganofferinghisopinionsbutshewasmoreconcernedwithfindingroominhervanitybagforthefile,slowlyemptyingitscontentsontothe
deskinfrontofherinordertocreateroom.Eventuallythefilewassqueezedintoplaceandshebeganrefillingthebagwiththeobjectsshehadputonthetable.Lastamongthemwasanextremelyold,dried-upapplethathadbeenlurkingunseenatthebottomofthebagforoveraweek.BoseIkardwasstaringattheapplewithdisapproval:ithardlyspokeofherreputation
forsophisticatedentrapment.‘Don’tmindthat,’shesaid,seizingtheancientapplewithmockdelight.‘ItwasgiventomebymynannywhenIwasalittlegirlandIcan’tbeartopartwithit.’
Cale’svisittoPotsdamhadproducedanupsurgeinmoraleamongthetroopsandareneweddeterminationtofightthatdiminishedin
powerinproportiontothedistancefromPotsdam.ItgaveIdrisPukketimetocreatehistroupeofimpostersbutthatwasall.Gettingactorswasn’tdifficultbutgettingonesthatcouldbereliedontokeeptheirmouthsshutwasmoreofaproblem,aswerethecostumes.Afterthefirstdayoftry-outsitwasclearthattheyhadamajordifficulty:theactorsweretoo
small,whichistosaytheywerenormalheight,butCale’sdreamofapowerfulcloakedfigurestandingonalonelymountaincragtoencouragethefaint-heartedcameupagainstapracticalsnag:oncethecostumedactorswereatanykindofdistance–aprecautionnecessarynottogivethegameaway–nodetailaboutthemcouldberecognized:
notthegrandgestures,themenacinghoodorevenwhethertheywerekneelingorstanding.Theywerejustblackspecksand,worse,blackspecksagainstablackbackground.‘Wehavetomake
everythingbig,’saidIdrisPukke.‘Bigcostume,biggestures,bigeverything.Apantomimelargerthanlife.’Withinaweekhe’dhired
everytheatricalfabricatorinSpanishLeedsandfortwohundredmilesaroundandbuiltseveralgiantcostumeswithstiltsandextendedarmsandhugeshouldersandenormousheads.‘Thehead’saboutright,’
saidVagueHenritoKleist,whentheywereshownit.‘Notsureabouttherestofit.’‘Kissmyears,’replied
Cale.
‘It’sgottobelikethisorwe’llhavetothinkagain.’Infact,IdrisPukkedid
both.ThepuppetCalecouldbemadetoworkintherightplace,withfiresbehindittocreateenoughlighttoseeitandwithpuppeteerstowavehisten-foot-tallcassockaboutsoitlookedasifhewerebravinggreatwinds.Buttheyalsohadtogobacktoaversionoftheirfirstmodel,
withpaddedshouldersandfalsearms,madebyamanwhousuallybuiltthemannequinsforthemagician’strickofsawingthewomaninhalfusingimitationlegs.‘Inpantomime,’hesaid,‘everythinghastobebig,it’strue,butit’sgottobetherightkindofbig.’Thissecondversionhadto
beviewedfromamuchcloser
proximitybutinthetwilightwhereitcouldn’tbeseensoclearly.Bestofallforshowingitoffwasthemagichour,thetimebeforeeveningfallswhenthelightallowseventhecrudestshapetotakeontheglowandpowerofanotherworld.‘Why,’saidCale,‘is
everythingalwaysmoredifficultthanyouthink?Whyisstuffneverlessdifficult?’
Feelingillandirritatedhearrivedatthatevening’sfestivitiesinaverybadmood.Thattheentireeveninghadbeensetuptotrytodiscoverwhetherornothewasdeadmadehimevenmoresnaky.‘Ifthey’relookingforanexcusetotakemeon,letthemtry.’Hehadtakenrecentlytomutteringtohimself.ThistimeitwasloudenoughtoattractVague
Henri,whowasinthenextroomwritingaletteraboutboots.VagueHenriputhishead
roundthedoor.‘Didyousaysomething?’‘No.’‘Iheardyoutalking.’‘Imighthavebeensinging.
Sowhat?’‘Itwasn’tsinging,itwas
talking.Youweretalkingtoyourselfagain.Firstsignof
madness,mate.’ThatnightBoseIkard
madeapointofre-introducingCaletothecomparativelyfewpeoplewhohadspokendirectlytohim,allofwhomhadbeeninstructedtoaskhimasmanycomplicatedquestionsaspossible.HissuccessindrawingCaleoutreacheditsheightwhenhewasintroducedtotheKing–his
longestresponsetothesupremeheadofstatewas,‘YourMajesty.’Fortherestitwasasinglewordorashrug.Indesperation,BoseIkardbroughtinDorothy.Sheenteredtheroomanditwasnoexaggerationtosaythattherewassomethinglikeagaspatherappearance.Shewaswearingaredvelvetdresscutshamefullylowandredvelvetglovesthatcovered
herarmsagooddealmorethanthedresscoveredherbreasts.Herwaistwascinchedskinny-boy-thin,theskirtofthedresswasdecorousenoughwhenshewasstill,butwhenshemoveditrevealedherleftlegalmosttoherhip.Withhercrimsonlipsandwhite-blondehairsheshouldhavelookedlikeanexpensivetart–butshecouldcarryitoffinawaythat
simplycaughtyouinthechest,whimperingwithdesire.Andthiswasaneffectbynomeanslimitedtothemen.Shestoppedandtalkedtoafewofthemostimportantpeopleintheroom,herlovelysmilerevealingteethlikelittlepearls,allexceptoneofthemthatwasalittlesnagged,anoddproportion,whichonlymadeherseemmorebeautiful.She
stoppedforalittlewhiletotalktoBoseIkardandpositionedherselfsothatCalecouldseeandappreciatehergorgeousness.Then,whenshenoticedhehadobservedhertwoorthreetimeswhilepretendingtolookindifferentlyaroundtheroom,shewalkeddirectlyuptohim.She’ddecidedthatboldwouldworkbestwithhim,boldandbeautiful.
‘You’reThomasCale.ChancellorBoseIkardhasbetmefiftydollarsthatIwon’tgetmorethantwowordsoutofyou.’Therewas,ofcourse,no
suchbetandshedidnotexpecthimtobelieveher.CalelookedatDorothythoughtfullyforamoment.‘Youlose.’
32
Perhapsonedayagreatmindwilldiscovertheexactpointinanygivensituationwhenthepersonwhohastomakethedecisionoughttostoplistening.Untilthatdayit’snowonderthatprayer,
divination,orthedisembowellingofcatsareasusefulstrategiesasany.Stupidadvicesometimesworks;intelligentadvicesometimesfails.TheappearanceofCale’spuppetshadbeenasurprisingsuccess.EveryoneagreedthatthewilloftheNewModelArmytofighthadimprovedbeyondmeasure–awillasimportant,perhaps,asweapons,foodor
numbers.Itwassosuccessfulthatitwasdecidedthetroopsneededevenmoreofit.TheproblemwasthattheRedeemersalsohadawilltofightthatwasfoundedonmorethancleverillusions:deathforthemwasmerelyadoortoabetterlife.Soitwasargued–notunreasonably–thatiffakeCalescoulddosomuchgood,howmuchmorewouldthetroopsbenefitfrom
thepresenceoftherealone.Mysteriously,moraleamongsttheNewModelArmyhadincreasedasmuchinareaswherethepuppetshadn’tbeenseenaswheretheyhad.ClearlythenjustafewshortappearancesbyCalehimselfmighttipthebalance.VagueHenriwasbegged
andcajoledandnaggeduntilnewsarrivedofanother
hideousvictorybytheRedeemersatMaldon.Everyonewasshakenbythisdefeat,evenVagueHenri,soheagreedtoapproachCale.HadheknownallthefactsofthelossatMaldonhewouldn’thavedoneso.AfewweekslateritbecameclearthattherouthadnotbeentheresultofRedeemersuperioritybutwasentirelyduetothestupidityofthe
NewModelArmycommander,whohadallowedtheRedeemerstoescapetohighgroundandensureddefeatfromapositionwherevictorywouldhavebeeninevitable.Infact,ifanything,the
flowofvictorieswasmovingslightlyinfavouroftheNewModelArmy,exceptnobodyknewit.Soitwasthat,basedonafalseproposition
reasonablyarrivedatinthefaceofcompellingevidencethatwascompletelymistaken,VagueHenripersuadedCaletotourthebattlefieldinperson.CalewasdeeplyreluctantbutVagueHenrisaiditwouldn’tbeforlongandthey’dtravelinawagon-trainmuchbiggerthanthestandardone.Calehadbeenfeelingalittlebetterandhispersonalcarriagehad
beenfittedwithspringssothatitwasmucheasierforhimtorestonthemove.Thingswerecritical,apparently.Itwasacrisis.SomethingMustBeDone.Whatchoicedidhehave?Thefirstfivedaysofthe
seven-daytourwentwell.Cale’spresence–awayfromanywheredangerous–wasatonicforthetroopsfarbeyondexpectations.It
continuedtobeagreatsuccessrightupuntilthemomentwhenitturnedintoanappallingdisaster–onethatwassettodeliverabsolutevictoryintothehandsoftheRedeemersbymeansofthedeathsofCaleandVagueHenrionthesameday.Toavoidanunseasonably
heavystormcomingdownfromthenorth,VagueHenri
hadhaltedthetrain.UnfortunatelythesamestormhadalsothreatenedalargeexpeditionarycolumnofRedeemers,whohaddecidedtoavoiditbyturningforthesafetyoftheirownlines.ItwasthiscoincidenceofcircumstancesthatbroughtaforceofsomefifteenhundredRedeemers,chosentogothisfarbecauseoftheirskillandexperience,toblunderinto
VagueHenri’sunreadywagon-trainwhich,bigasitwas,hadonlysomesixhundredsoldiers.Worsethanthat,manyofthemwerenotsoskilledandexperienced:VagueHenrihadmadethemistake,pressedashealwayswasfortime,ofhandingthechoiceofsoldiersovertosomeonetooeasilybribedtoallowpersonsofrankandinfluence(alreadytheNew
ModelArmywasfallingintobadhabits)tobuythegreatstatusofferedbybeingabletoboasttheyhadservedwiththeExterminatingAngelhimself.VagueHenriimmediately
orderedthewagonscircled.AssoonasCaleemergedtoinvestigatethenoisehespentfiveminuteslookingovertheRedeemers,whowereputtingthemselvesinorderabout
eighthundredyardsaway,andtoldVagueHenritostop.‘Why?’‘Thatsmalllakethere.’It
wasatarnaboutthreehundredyardsaway.‘Formasemi-circleagainstthelakeshore,samesizeashere–thenwiththewagonsleftoverformanothersemi-circleinside.’VagueHenriwasableto
catchthewagonsstillonthe
movesotherewasnodelayputtingthehorsesbackinharnessordiggingupthepegsusedtofastenthewheelsfirmlytotheground.TheRedeemerinchargerealizedthatnowwasagoodtimetoattackbuthewasacautiousmananddelayedtoolong,waryofbeingdrawnintoamysteriouslycunningtrap.Bythetimehedecidedtomove,theNewModelArmy
formationwasinplace,thehorsesbeinguncoupledandthewheelshammered.Thecentralquestionfor
bothsideswasthesameandneitherknewtheanswer.Washelpontheway?VagueHenrihadsentoutfourridersforhelpassoonashesawtheRedeemers.FortheRedeemersthequestionwaswhetherthey’dcaughtallofthem.Withouthelpor
extraordinaryluckitwasonlyaquestionoftimebeforetheyoverranthestockade–unlessthey’dfailedtocatchalloftheNewModelArmyriders.Ifso,helpmightbeonthewayeventually.Eventhentheywereinagoodposition,withoddsofbetterthantwotooneintheirfavour.Theywerealsoinabetterpositionthantheyknew,giventhathalfthesoldiersinthe
wagon-trainweremadeupofinexperiencedadministratorsofonekindoranother.Cale,morethananyone,believedintheimportanceofgoodadministratorsbutnothereandnotnow.IttookabouttwentyminutesforCaleandVagueHenritorealizethattheywerenotbeingprotectedbytheengineofviolencethey’dworkedsohardtocreate.
‘Thisisyourfault,’saidCale.‘Putmeontrialwhenit’s
over.’‘You’reonlysayingthat
becauseyouknowyou’regoingtodiehere.’‘Andyou’renot?’‘Nowyou’reworrying
aboutme?It’sabitlate.’‘Stopwhining.’Therewasabad-tempered
silence–thentheygoton
withit.‘Weneedheight,’said
Cale.‘What?’‘Weneedaplatforminthe
middleofthat,’hesaid,pointingatthesmallsemi-circleofwagons.‘Itdoesn’tneedtobemorethanaboutsixfeetup–butwe’llneedroomfortwentycrossbowmenandasmanyloadersasyoucan.The
Redeemersaregoingtobreakthroughthefirstwallsowe’vegottoturnthespacebetweenthetwointoaslaughterhouse–that’sallIcanthinkoftokeepthemback.’VagueHenrilooked
around,workingoutwhathewouldusetobuildthetowerandprotectit.Itwouldsucceeduptoapoint.Itwouldn’tmakemuch
differenceifallhisridershadbeenstopped.‘Youlookterrible,’hesaid
toCale.Infacthecouldbarely
stand.‘Ineedtosleep.’‘Whataboutthatstuff
SisterWraygaveyou?’‘Shesaiditcouldkillme.’‘What?Andthey’renot
goingto?’Calelaughed.‘Notifthey
knowit’sme.I’mprobably
allright.’‘Buttheydon’tknowit’s
you.’‘Itmightbuyustimeif
theydid.’‘Tooclever.’‘Probably.I’llsleeponit.
Sortouttheexperiencedmenanddividethemintothegoodandthebetter.OfthebestI’llneedsevengroupsoften.Puttheweakestinthefirstgroupofwagonsandwakemean
hourbeforeyouthinktheRedeemersaregoingtobreakin.Nowwalkmeslowlytomycarriagesotheydon’tseetheirExterminatingAngelfalloveronhisface.’Ontheway,aterrified-
lookingquartermasterwalkedovertothemandreportedtherehadbeenamistakewiththeboxesofvillainoussaltpetreusedtochargethehandguns.Three-quartersof
theirsupplyturnedouttobebacon,whichwaspackedinidenticalcrates.Thequartermasterwassurprisedtobecalmlydismissed.Therewasareason.‘Thisisyourfault,’said
VagueHenritoCale.Itwastrue,itwasCale’s
fault–monthsbeforehe’drealizedtheywerespendingafortuneandhugeamountsoftimemakingcratesofevery
differentsizeandshapefortheirsupplies,sohe’dstandardizedthem.Asimplebutcleverideapromisedtodestroythemall.
Calehadexpectedhemight,ifhewaslucky,gettwoorthreehours.VagueHenriwokehimafterseven.Italwaystookhimacoupleofminutestobecomewakefulinanywaybuthecouldsee
immediatelythattherewassomethingdifferentaboutVagueHenri.MorethanKleist,andverymuchmorethanCale,he’dalwaysretainedsomethingoftheboyabouthim.Notnow,though.TherewasnopointindelayingsohetookthetinypacketofPhedraandMorphineoutofhisdrawerandpouredthedosestraightintohismouth.SisterWray’s
direwarningswhisperedinhisear.Butshe’dgivenittohimbecausesheknewtherewouldbedayslikethis.CalefollowedVagueHenri
outside.Inthehourshe’dbeenasleephellhadarrived.Allthewagonsinthefirstwallwereinaterriblestate–wallsbroken,wheelssmashed;halfwerepulledtothegroundbyRedeemerropesandsixofthemwereon
fire.Intheinnersemi-circlethedeadandthewoundedlayinraggedlinesofaroundtwohundred–andthoughtherewerescreams,mostlyitwasthehorriblesilenceofthoseinthekindofpainthatwasgoingtokill.AndyetCalecouldseeVagueHenrihadpreservedthelinewithoutusingtwohundredofthemostskilledandexperienced.Calelookeddirectlyathim
andVagueHenristaredback:something,somethinghadchanged.‘Whatyou’vemanaged
here,’saidCale,‘notevenIcouldhavedoneit.’Iftheyeverpraisedeachother,whichwasrare,itwasalwayswithanedgeofmockery.Butnotthistime.VagueHenrifelttheeffectofthispraiseasdeeplyasitwaspossibletobeaffectedbythedeep
admirationofsomeoneyoulove.Ashortsilence.‘Apity,’saidCale,‘youletithappeninthefirstplace.’‘Well,it’sapity,’replied
VagueHenri,‘thatbecauseofyourstupidboxeswe’reallgoingtodie.’Thefirstwallofwagons
wasstillholding,ifnotformuchlonger–alreadytheRedeemerswerepullingattheburningwrecks.Cale
thoughthehadabouttenminutes.Heshoutedthefreshtroopsforwardandgatheredthemintheirprearrangedgroupsofseven.Hegavethem,ofcourse,
thespeechhe’dstolenfromthelibraryintheSanctuary.‘What’sthenameofthis
place?’heasked.‘SaintCrispin’sTarn,’said
oneofthesoldiers.‘Well,hethatoutlivesthis
day,andcomessafehome,willstriphissleevesandshowhisscarsandsay“ThesewoundsIhadatCrispin’sTarn.”Andthenhe’lltellwhatfeatshedidthatday.Thenshallournamesbeasfamiliarinthemouthsofeveryoneashouseholdwordsfromthisdaytotheendingoftheworld.Wefew,wehappyfew,webandofbrothers;for
hetodaythatshedshisbloodwithmeshallbemybrother.’Caledidnotmakethe
usualoffertoletanymangowhodidnotwishtofight–noonethatdaywasgoinganywhere.Onedayhistrickspeechwouldfailtoworkbutnottoday.‘Eachoneofyou,’heshouted,andthedrugwasbeginningtodoitswork,hisvoicewasstrongandcarriedabovethenoisebehind,
‘belongstoagroupofsevennamedafterthedaysoftheweekbecauseI’venothadthetimeandtheprivilegetoknowyoubetter.Buteachoneofyouisnowresponsibleforwhetherthefuturelivesordies.Keepyourshieldstouching.Iwantyoucloseenoughtosmelleachother’sbreath.Don’tlagbehind,don’tchargeahead–that’sthestyleIwantandthespirit.
Youknowthecalls–listenaswellasIknowyoucanfightandyou’lldowell.’Hestoodforwardand
pointedtoeithersideofthesemi-circle.‘Mondaythere.Sundayat
thefarend.Everyoneinorderinbetween.’Hewavedatthemtogo.VagueHenrimeanwhile
hadgathereduptheremainingweakestfighters
andnowledthemforwardtoreinforcethewagonsnotonfire.Afewminutesmoreofthe
tug-of-warwiththeburningwagonsandthentheycollapsed;theRedeemerspulledwhatwashookedtotheirchainsbackandawaytoleavewhatnowlookedlikegapsinarowofbrokenteeth.VagueHenrihadjustenoughtimetoreturnandenterthe
smallsemi-circleinfrontofthetarnandorganizehiscrossbowmenonthestumpyraggedtowerofearthandstonesandwood.Fiveminutesandthenthe
firstRedeemersenteredthroughthelargestgaptoCale’sleft.Nowhecouldfeelthepoisonpumpinginhisveins–notrealstrengthorcouragebutjumpy,edgyandoverstrung.Butitwouldhave
todo.Herealizedhisjudgementwastwitchytoo;partofhimwantedtorushtheRedeemersinthebreachandfight.VagueHenrihadbeeninstructedtosavewhatremainedoftheirfailingsupplyofcrossbowboltsandonlytrytohitthecentenars.ThecentenarsdressedexactlylikeotherRedeemersforpreciselythisreasonbutVagueHenricouldtellthem
eventhroughthesmoke.Onewentdown,hitinthestomach,andthenanother.‘Wednesday!’calledout
Cale.‘Walkon!’Theymovedforwardinaline–theRedeemerswaited–clearnowforthemwhatattitudetotake.‘That’lldo!’calledout
CaleandtheWednesdaysstopped,leavingtheRedeemersconfused–they’d
expectedtodefendthebreachbuttheywerebeingencouragedin.Thiswasn’tright.CaleraisedhislefthandtoVagueHenriandfiveboltsfromhisoverstrungsencouragedtheRedeemerstodotherightthing–orthewrongone–andadvance.Howeverbadthingslooked
forthewagon-train,theRedeemerswereworriedtoo.Ithadtakenthemtoolongto
getthisfar.Withsuchoddsthey’dexpectedtooverrunthewagonsandbeontheirwaybeforereinforcementscame.Theyknewthatifthey’dgotalltheNewModelArmyoutriderstheyhadallthetimeintheworld.Buttheycouldn’tbesure.So,fearingtheywerepressedfortime,theymovedpastthewagonsandintothehalfcircle.
‘Tuesdays!’shoutedCale.‘Comeby!Comeby!Quickly.Quickly.’TheTuesdaysmovedforward,theleftedgeslightlyfaster,takingthegroupinananti-clockwisemovetosealthespacetotheRedeemerright.‘Thursdays!Awaytome!Quickly!’TheThursdaysmovedanti-clockwiseandblockedthemovingRedeemersfromspreadingto
theirright.Thereplacementcentenarswouldhavewithdrawnatthistothebreachbutthey’dbeentoldtopushon.‘Alleluia!Alleluia!’they
screamedandhittheNewModelArmylinesofshieldswiththeirown–hereitwasmostlycutandshoveandthecrashofswordandmalletagainstshieldwitheveryonetryingtogetinablow
withoutbeingcaughtthemselves.ButtheproblemwasthattheRedeemerswerebyfarthebettersoldiersinanopenfightanditwastellingmuchquickerthanCalehadhoped.Buthe’dplannedforit–hopingtostallthemheretogettimeforreinforcementstoarrive–iftheywereontheirway.Buttoosoonhismenwerebeginningtofallback.Cale,inhisfifteen-year-old
pomp,wouldhaveusedtherestofthedaysoftheweektosupporttheretreatbacktothesemi-circlearoundthetarn.Hewouldhaveseenthathe’dgotitwrongandbackedawayinasgoodorderaswaspossible.TheonlyreasonhewasabletotaketothefightwasbecauseofSisterWray’sdrugs–butshewouldhaveseenalmostimmediatelythathewasreactingbadly:his
facewasflushed,hispulseracingandhiseyeslikepin-holes.Seeingthethreedaysoftheweekwerebeingpushedbackandabouttocollapseheracedforward,pickedupahideouslookingpoleaxefromawoundedsoldierandgrabbedashortmalletabandonedinthegroundthenburstthroughthelineoftheWednesdaysandlaunchedhimselfintothe
astonishedRedeemers.
Wide-mouthedthedogfishlovestoswimThefishesgoinfearofhim
Filledwithrageanddrug-poweredtoinsanity,CalelashedattheRedeemersaroundhimwiththeblunt-toothedpoleaxe–athug’sweaponwieldedbyathugwithsavagehandinessandutmostcraziness:brutalthe
crushinginsultstoteethandtofaces,bluntthebreakingofscalpsandoffingers,thesplinteringofkneesandelbows.Hishammertotheirchestscausedtheirheartstostopastheystood,shatteredspinesandcheekbones;hehammeredribcages,fracturedbones,legstore,nosesburst.EvenRedeemerswerestunnedattheviolence–andthenthediscouragedofthe
NewModelArmy,seeingthemadmanwho’dcometotheirrescue,rushedtohisaidandstartledtheirbettersasiftheyweretauntedbyCale’sdeliriouspoison,unhingedbythebloodandtheshitsmellsandthehorror.NowmoreRedeemers
pouredinfrombehindbutmadethingsworseastheirpanickingcomradestriedtoescapethemad-infected
counter-attack.Calewassteppingonthewoundedlivingtogetinhisblowsontheretreatingenemy.Hewasinsuchamaniathathe’dhavebeenaterrorholdingababy’srattleineitherhand.Thedrugreleasedinafloodthepent-upangeragainstthemenfallingbackinfrontofhim–thewhiningandbeggingofmenwhoweredyingandthecrowingand
gloatingofhismenathisshoulders–thesearethesignalsandthesoundsofabattle,theterrorandpainandthesingularrapture.TheRedeemeradvance
collapsedandbutforonecentenar,whokepthisheadandpulledawaymenwhowerestandinglikestumpstobeslaughtered,theymighthavehadablowhardenoughtomakethemleave.Asthey
retreatedCalehadtobeheldbackfromfollowing–luckyforhim,asonceintheopenbeyondtheouterrimofwagonshe’dhavebeenkilled.Nodrugwouldhavehelpedhimthere.TheleaderoftheFridaysmanagedtoholdCaleinthekindofgrippossessedonlybyasixandahalffoottallformerblacksmith.HeheldhimbacklongenoughforVagueHenri
toarriveandtalkhimbacktothesemi-circleinfrontofthetarn.NowitwasdarkandasVagueHenrigaveCaleovertoafielddoctor,withwhisperedadviceaboutamedicinethathadgonewrong,hetriedtoworkouthowtocoverthebreach.HadtheRedeemers
attackedthesamepointagaintheywouldhavebeenthroughinafewminutesbut
theywere,understandably,amazedatwhathadhappenedand,believingtheNewModelArmyhadfoundsomeberserkmercenaries,decidedthattheyshouldtryadifferentapproach.Forthenexttwohourstheyattemptedanattackontheouterperimeterwiththeintentionofsettingallthewagonsonfireandthenpullingtheburntremainder
outofthewaytogivethemaclearlineofassaulttothesemi-circlebackedontothelake.VagueHenriheldthemoffuntiltwohourspastmidnightandthenorderedthesurvivorstoretreattothetarnandwatchtheRedeemerengineerspulltheouterperimeterapart.Atfourinthemorningthelastattackbegan.TheRedeemersgathered
ontheinsideoftheperimeter
andsang:Alleeeeluuuueeeeaaaa!Alleeeeluuuueeeeaaaa!Lit
frombehindbytheredembersoftheburnt-outwagonstheylookedlikesomemonstrouslyarmedchoirfromhell.Totheleft,otherRedeemersoldiersbegantosing.
Deathandjudgement,heavenandhell.Thelastfourthingsonwhichwe
dwell.Totheright:
Faithofourfathers,livingstillwewillbetruetotheetilldeath.
Inaharrowingwayitwasbeautiful–thoughthatthoughtnevercrossedthefearfulmindsofthosewatchingandlistening.Broughtbacktothe
wagonsinfrontofthetarn,
CalehadbeentakentothetentforthewoundedbehindthestumpytowerbuiltbyVagueHenri.Hismindseemedalittleclearerbuthisbodybelowthewaistwasshakinguncontrollablyinawaythatlookedfaintlyridiculous.VagueHenritoldthedoctorwhathe’dtaken.‘Givehimsomethingto
calmhimdown.’‘It’snotthateasy,’saidthe
surgeon.‘Youshouldn’tbemixingthesedrugs–it’snotsafe.Asyoucansee,youcan’ttellwhat’llhappen.’‘Well,’saidVagueHenri,
‘Icantellyouwhat’llhappenifyoudon’tgethimintoaconditiontofight.’Itwashardtoarguewith
thissothesurgeongavehimValerianandPoppyinadoselargeenoughtoputdowntheformerblacksmithwhowas
nowstandingoverCaleincasehemadearunforit.‘Howlongtoseeifit
works?’‘IfItoldyouI’dbealiar,’
saidthesurgeon.VagueHenrisquatted
downinfrontofCale,whowasshakingalloverandbreathinginandoutinshortbursts.‘Onlyfightwhenyou’re
ready.Understood?’
CalenoddedbetweenshakesandbreathsandVagueHenriwalkedoutofthetentknowingthiswaslikelytobehislastnightonearthandfeelingalloftwoyearsold.Heclimbedupthemakeshifthumpinthemiddleofthesemi-circle–towerwastoograndawordforit–andexchangedafewwordswiththefifteencrossbowmenandtheirloaders.Thenheturned
totherestofthemen–hismen–atthebarricades.Hethoughtthatatthistimeofalltimestheydeservedthetruth.‘First,’helied,‘I’veheard
thatreinforcementsareontheirway.Allwehavetodoisholdouttillmid-morningthenwe’llmakethemsingadifferenttune.’Therewasaloudcheer,whichmadeanoddclashwiththemusicoftheRedeemers.
Didtheybelievehim?Whatotherchoicewasthere?EverythingforVagueHenriwasnowabouttheartofdelay.HedecidedtooffertheRedeemerstalksaboutsurrender,notreallythinkingitworththerisk.Whenthemessengerfailedtoreturnhewasfuriouswithhimselfforwastingaman’slifewhenheknew,really,whattheanswerwouldbe.You’reweakand
useless,hesaidtohimself.Heturnedtotheimmediateproblem:theshortageofbolts.He’dbeensettingtheloaderstomakingthenewonesalldaysotherewasagoodsupplybutkeepingtheRedeemersbackforlongenoughwouldprobablyneedmorebyfarthanhe’dstockpiled.Ifreinforcementsarrivedatallithadbetterbebynineinthemorning.After
thatnoonewouldneedtoworryanymore.Theplanhe’dputtogether
wassimpleenough:theraisedplatformgavethemalineofsighteverywheretothefrontexceptforanarrow’sshadowaboutsixfeetinfrontofthewagons.AnyRedeemerswhomadeittotheshadowwouldbeabletofightthedefenderswithoutbeingpickedoffbythecrossbowsonthetower.
VagueHenri’sjobwastokeeptheRedeemersbackfromthewagonssothatonlyacomparativelysmallnumberintheprotectiveshadowcouldfighthand-to-handwiththedefenders.Butthisplan,hewassure,dependedmoreonCalethanonhim:thedefendersonthewagonsneededanexterminatingangelontheirsideiftheyweretomakeit
throughthenight.Stillsinging,oncamethe
firstlineofRedeemers,slammingtheirshieldswiththeirswordsinslowaccompanimenttothedirgesVagueHenrihadbeenforcedtolistentoasaboymorning,noonandnight.Throughastrokeofluckhe’ddiscoveredasecondcaseofoverstrungswhenthereshouldonlyhavebeenthree
foranentirecamp:close-quarterfightingdidn’trequiresuchlongdistancepowersotheywereonlyusedforsniping,andthenhardlyever.Onanotheroccasionthismistakemighthavebeenadisasterbuttodayincompetencehadbeenagloriousgift.WithtenofthesecrossbowsagainstthemtheRedeemerswouldbegettinganastyshockontheir
waytothewagonbarricade.Soitproved.The
RedeemerswereexpectingtocomeunderfirefromthemuchweakercrossbowsVagueHenrihaddesignedforclosein-fighting,andagainstwhichtheirshieldswereaprettygooddefence.Theyhadn’tevenstartedtoadvancewhenboltsfromtheoverstrungstookoutfourcentenars,fourothersand
woundedafurthertwo.Worsewastocome.Almostimmediatelyanothervolleyoffivefromtheotheroverstrungs,handedtothecrossbowmenbytheirloaders,againstruckthedenseRedeemerrankswiththesameresult.Takenbysurprise,therewasenormousconfusionaboutwhattodoandforamomentVagueHenrithoughttheywere
goingtoretreatoutofrange.Hewasalmostrightbutthenoneofthecentenars,lashingtotheleftandrightandscreamingbloodymurder,blockedthewayanddrovethemforward.‘Run!Run!Run!Getunder
thesafetyofthewagons!’Astheeighthundredorso
Redeemersmadeachaoticdashfortheshadowofthewagonswherethebolts
couldn’treachthemtheytookheavylossesfromthecrossbowsonthemoundandastheygotcloserthelesspowerfulcrossbowsinthewagonshadgreatereffect.WorsestillfortheRedeemers,toomanyhadcometoattackthewagons–therewasn’tenoughroomintheshadowforallthepriestswhomadeitthere.Morethantwohundredwereleft
directlyinthelineoffirefromthemound.AfterashortperiodofcarnageinwhichmorethanfiftyRedeemerswerekilled,thecentenarsmanagedtoworkouttheirmistakeanddrovebackonlythree-quartersofthenumberofmenthatjustafewminutesbeforetheyhaddrivenforward.TheRedeemersatthe
wagonsfoughton,protected
fromVagueHenributnotfromthedefendersinsidethewagons,nowunderintenseanddeadlypressure.Still,thedefenderswerewellprotectedanddiedonlyatarateofoneofthemtosixRedeemers.ItwasVagueHenriwhoheldthebalance.AsRedeemersslowlydiedinfrontofthewagonstheyhadtoberesuppliedbyRedeemersnowhidinginthedarkback,
beyondtheoldperimeter.OnceenoughRedeemershaddiedthecentenarsracedforwardfromthedarkingroupsofthirtyorsotoreplacethem.LifeanddeathforthedefendersdependedontherateoffirefromthestumpyhillockandhowmanyRedeemersthecrossbowmencouldkillastheymadetheirdashfromthedarkacrosstheopenspaceto
therelativesafetyofthewagons.Amurderousrhythmwas
beingbeatenoutbyVagueHenriandthedefendersandthey’dsurviveonlyaslongasthatrhythmstayedthesame.Iftheyranoutofboltsorthewagonswerebreachedthefightwasover.VagueHenrinowbelieveditwasoveranyway.IfonlyCalewashere,hekeptthinkingto
himself.He’dknowwhattodo.Bynowtheexterminating
angelwassnoringawayinhiscarriage,beingwatchedoverbytheformerblacksmith,Under-sergeantDemsky.Brieflyvisitedbythesurgeonafewhoursintothissecondfight,DemskywastoldthatCalewouldbeunconsciousforhoursandthatDemskywouldbeofmuchmoreuse
inthefield.‘Ishouldwatchoverhim,’
saidDemsky.‘IfthosePapistscumget
overthewagons,’saidthesurgeon,‘allyou’llbewatchingoverishisdeathandthenyourown.’Calesnoredon.Thesurgeon’spointwasimpossibletodisagreewithandafterabriefchecktheyleftCaletothedark.
HalfanhourlaterCalewokeup,theValerianandPoppymixturehavingwornoff.ThesamecouldnotbesaidofthePhedraandMorphinethatSisterWrayhadsofearfullygivenhim.Evenmoredementedthanbeforehe’dfallenintohisherb-inducedsleep,hepickedupapoleaxeandrushedoutside.Hiscarriagehadbeenmovedtothesafestplaceonthefarside
ofthesmallhillockandaboutthirtyfeetfromthewaterofthetarn.Undernormalcircumstanceshewouldhavebeenseenwithinafewsteps,eveninthedark–butitwastwohoursintothebattleandeveryonewaswrappedupinthefightforsurvivalgoingoninfrontofthem.ThiswaswhyonlyCalesawthelineofRedeemersinthelake,wadingtheirwaytowardsthe
completelyexposedrearofthecampalongsomekindofraisedshallowthatthey’ddiscovered,thewidthoftwomen.Thewaterwasstillwaist-highandtheirprogresswasslowbuttherewereenoughofthemtoturnthefightinamatterofminutes.Roaringforhelp,whichwentunheededduetothegreatnoiseofthebattle,anakedCale–thesurgeonhad
strippedoffhisblood-glazedclothes–ranintothelakeandwadedtowardsthestartledRedeemers–aloneboy,completelynakedandscreamingatthem.Noteventhegentlestand
mostlovingdoveofpeacecouldfailtothrillatthemajestyofhisangelicviolence–noherohadeverfoughtwithsuchstrengthandgracefulskill,suchdivine
rageandcruelmagnificence.AseachRedeemercameonhedealtoutsuchsavagerytoarmsandlegsandheadsthatsoontheshallowsofthelakewereawashinseveredlimbsandfingersandheelsandtoes–allthefrigidlakeincarnadinedwithRedeemerbloodastheycameonathimrelentlesslytobemartyr-fodderinthecoldblackwater.
Ifanyoneinthebattlebehindhimhadfoundthetimetolookbackintothelaketheywouldcertainlyhaveseensomethingnotsoonforgotten.Foranhour,lashingaroundhiminthewater,thehallucinatingCalefoughtmadlyagainstanendlesslineofRedeemerswhodidnotexist,deadlyfoesmagnificentlyvanquishedwhowereentirelyfigmentsof
hisdrug-drenchedimagination.Afteranhourofdeludedheroismallhismind-enemiesweredead.Andso,exhaustedbuttriumphant,hemadehiswaybacktohiscarriagewhiletherealbattlecontinued,touchandgo,andfellintoapeacefulsleep.
Onthemound,VagueHenricouldfeelthesweatdrippingdownhisbackasif,realizing
hewasgoingtodie,fearbeetleshadhatchedfromhisspineandweremakingtheirescape.Onandonitwentandthepileofboltsthatwerekeepingthemfromahorribledeathdiminishedlikesandinatimerthatwouldneverbereversed.Then,atfirstunnoticed,theskybegantolightenandthepaleredofdawnbegantobathethewagonsbelowinadelicate
pinkandthenthesunmovedupabovethehorizonandabreezeblewup,dispersingsomewhatthesmokethathungoverthefight.Thenthefightstoppedandapeculiarsilencefellonthemen,RedeemerandNewModelArmyalike.Surroundingthemonthelowrisethatoverlookedthetarn,atadistanceofamileorso,wereperhapsfivethousand
soldierswhohadmarchedthroughthenighttosavetheirexterminatingangel.TheAngelofDeath
himselfwasfastasleepandhewasstillasleephalfanhourlaterwhenVagueHenricametocheckonhim,alongwiththesurgeonandUnder-sergeantDemsky.Theylookeddownonhimforaminuteortwo.‘Whyishesowet?’asked
VagueHenri.‘Alltheherbs,probably,’
saidthesurgeon.‘Thebody’swayoftryingtogetridofallthepoisoninside.Heisoursaviour–whatcanbesaidinpraiseofhimthat’sgoodenough?’
ItwouldbehardtosaywhetherCale’ssupernaturalreputationinflatedmorefromhis(asitwasnowbelieved)
single-handeddestructionoftheRedeemersjustastheywereabouttoclaimvictory,orthefactthathavingcompletedthisextraordinaryfeathe’dretiredtosleepthroughtheremainderofthefight,asifheknew,indeedhadinsomewayguaranteedbyhissingleinterventioninthebattle,thatvictorywascertainwhatevertheRedeemersthendidordidnot
do.ItwasamarkofVague
Henri’smaturityandthestrengthofhismoralfibrethathewasabletofindasufficientlystrongchamberinhishearttolockawayforeverhisincandescentfurythatallthecreditforthesuccessofthatmostcrucialnightwenttoCale.Mostly,atanyrate.‘Iwonthebattleof
Crispin’sTarn.’‘Ifyousayso,’replied
CalewheneverVagueHenribroughtitupinprivate,whichwasquiteoften.‘Ican’tremembermuchaboutit.’‘Yousaidthatnotevenyou
couldhavekepttheRedeemersout.’‘Really?Doesn’tsound
likeme.’OftherealattackCalehad
launchedagainsttheRedeemershecouldonlyrecalltheoddfleetingimage.Forsometimeafterwards,allthatremainedofhisheroicattackonthenon-existentRedeemersinthetarnitselfwastheoccasionalstrangedream.Butsooneventhatfaded.VagueHenrihadhisrevengeforbeingrobbedofthecreditinamannerthatwouldhavebeenapplauded
byallfifteen-year-oldsatalltimesandinallplaces.SoimpressedandgratefulwerethepeopleofSpanishLeedsthatapublicsubscriptionwasfilledtentimesovertoprovideafittingreminderoftheheroicvictoryatCrispin’sTarn.Atthesiteofthebattleastonestatuewaserected,inwhichaneight-footCalestoodonthebodiesofdeadRedeemerswhilethoseabout
tobehideouslyslaughteredcoweredbeforehisunearthlymightiness.VagueHenrihadbribedthestonemasontoaltertheinscriptionatthefootofthestatuebyonelettersothatitnowread:
IneternalmemoryoftheheroicdeedsofThomasCake
33
InthetwoweeksafterthebattleofthetarnCalefelthorribleandsleptonandoffalmostcontinuously.Whenhewasawakeheeitherhadaviciousheadacheorfelthewasabouttothrowupand
oftendid.Oneofthewayshefoundtotakehismindoffhismiserywastolieinadarkroomandrememberallthewonderfulmealshe’deatenwithIdrisPukke:sweetandsourpork,angel’shairnoodleswithsevenmeats,blackberrycrumblewiththeberriesjustpickedandservedwithdouble-thickcream.Then,adouble-edgedpleasure,he’dthinkaboutthe
twonakedgirlsandwhatitwasliketotouchthemandbeinsidethem(stillanotionthatastonishedhimwheneverhethoughtaboutit–whatanidea!).AslongashecouldavoidthehatredhefeltforArbellandtheguilt–andsuchacomplicatedguilt–overArtemisia,thenitseemedtohelphimvanishtoaplacewherepainwasdulled,includingthose.Often
hewouldrememberspecificdaysandnightsandfallasleepwhilethinkingaboutthem.Aftertwoweekshewokeuponemorningandfeltmuchbetter.Thishappenedfromtimetotime,thesuddenarrivalofseveraldaysoffeelingalmostnormal–aslongashedidn’tdomuch.Afewhoursintothisoasishebegantofeelverystrange;anintensedesirewouldnot
leavehimalone.Itwassostrongthathefeltitwasimpossibletoresist.Probably,hethought,itwascausedbynearlydyingatCrispin’sTarn.Whateverthereasonitwasdrivinghimmadanditwasnotgoingtoberesisted.
‘Doyouhavehanginggimbals?’‘No.’‘Anyhistoryofthrads?’
‘No.’‘Doyouhaveahistoryof
thedrizzles?’‘No.’‘Wouldyoulikeapigeon?
Thatwouldbeextra,ofcourse.’‘No.’‘AHuguenot?’‘No.’‘Agoblolly?’Likeallobnoxiousboysof
hisage,Calewaswaryof
beingmadeafoolof.‘Areyoumakingthisup?’Thesex-barkerwas
indignant.‘Wearecelebrated,sir,for
ourgoblollies.’‘Ijustwant…’Cale
paused,irritatedandawkward,‘…theusual.’‘Ah,’saidthesex-barker,
‘atRuby’sHouseofComfortswesupplytheunusual.Wearenotablefor
theunconventionalmostofall.’‘Well,Idon’twantit.’‘Iunderstand,’saidthe
disdainfulbarker.‘Sirrequiresthemodeordinaire.’‘Ifyousayso.’‘Wouldsirwanttoavail
himselfofourkissingservice?’‘What?’‘Kissingisanextra.’‘Why?’Calewasmore
bemusedthanindignant.‘ThefilledejoieatRuby’s
arewomenofqualityandholdkissingtobeofallactsthemostintimate.Theyarethereforeobligedtoaskforextra.’‘Howmuch?’‘Fortydollars,sir.’‘Forakiss?Nothanks.’Inasex-barker’sworking
lifeawkwardcustomersweretherulebutthepaleyoung
manwiththedarkcirclesaroundhiseyes(thoughpaleanddarkdidn’tdohisunhealthycoloursjustice)wasnowreallyandtrulygettingonhisnerves.‘Allthatremainsisforthe
youngsirtoprovideproofofage.’‘What?’‘AtRuby’sHouseof
Comfortswearestrictonsuchmatters.It’sthelaw.’
‘Isthisajoke?’‘Indeednot,sir.Therecan
benoexceptions.’‘HowamIsupposedto
provehowoldIam?’‘Apassportwouldbe
acceptable.’‘Iforgottobringitwith
me.’‘ThenI’mafraidmyhands
aretied,sir.’‘Isthatextratoo?’‘Verydroll,sir.Nowpiss
off!’Therewaslaughteratthis
fromthewaitingcustomersandthetartsarrivingtotakethemawayfortheirrentedecstasy.Calewasusedtobeingdenounced,hewasusedtobeingbeaten,buthewasnotusedtobeinglaughedat.NobodysmirkedattheAngelofDeath,theincarnationofGod’swrath.Butnowhewasjustasick
littleboyandhowheburnedforhisformerpowerastheysniggered.Ifhehadnotbeensoweakit’shardtoseehowhecouldhavecontrolledhimselfundersuchprovocation–theywouldhaveseentheterrorsoftheearthtoshuttheirgobs.Butwatchinghimfromtheothersideoftheroomwasaverylargemanwithahardlookinhiseyes.Despitethescorn-
acideatingintohissoulhewasobligedtowalkaway,alreadyworkingoutaplantodosomethinghideoustospiteRuby’sHouseofComfortsinduecourse.SoitwasluckyforRubyherselfthat,hearingtheraisedvoiceofherbarker,shehadcomedowntoseewhatwasup.ShewasevenluckierthatsherecognizedThomasCale.‘Please!’shecalledout,as
Calewenttoopenthedoor.‘I’mdreadfullysorry.Mypersonhere,’shesignalledtowardsthebarkerasifheweresomethingthathadwaitedtoolongtobethrownintothebins,‘isanidiot.Hisstupiditywillcosthimaweek’swages.I’mmostdreadfullysorry.’Caleturnedaround,enjoyingthelookofaggrievedinjusticeonthebarker’sface.
‘Twoweeks’wages,’saidCale.‘Let’sagreeonthree,’said
Ruby,smiling.‘Pleasecomethroughtotheprivatorium.Onlyourmosthonouredguestsaretakenthere.Andeverythingtonight,ofcourse,comeswithourcompliments.’‘Eventhekissing?’Shelaughed.Theboy,it
seemed,waswillingtobe
smarmed.‘We’llfindplacesyou
didn’tevenrealizecouldbekissed.’Althoughthebarkerwas
nowiserastotheidentityoftheboy,he’dneverseenRubytreatanyonewithsuchdeference.Butitwasmorethandeference,shewasafraid.Atanyrate,herealizedthreeweeks’wagesweretheleastofhistroubles.
Intheprivatoriumwasasighttobulgetheeyesofanyboy,nomatterhowwicked.Therewerewomeneverywhere,cocoonedonbanquettesofgoyakidskin,onsofasofyellowvelvetandday-bedscoveredinbittersweetvicunafromtheAmerigos.Tallwomen,shortwomen,tinywomen,largewomen–brownandwhiteandyellowandblackwomen,
oneofthemcoveredfromheadtofootexceptforonebreastwiththenipplepaintedpoppyred.AnotherdressedliketheinnocentdaughterofaPuritanwasmodestlyclothedinwhitelinenandablackdress–exceptthatshewepttearsofsorrowandheldupasign:Ihavebeenkidnapped.Helpme,please!Otherswerenakedandseemedtosleep.Oneyoung
girl,herfeetandhandsboundinsideawoodenframe,wasbeingtormentedbyawomanticklingbetweenheroutstretchedlegswithaswan’sfeather.‘Dutchchampagne!’called
outRubytoapageboywearingleatherblinkers.SheturnedtoCale.‘It’sthebestvintageinahundredyears.’Shegesturedforhimto
chooseoneofthewomenin
theroom,tryingtogiveCaletheimpressionshewasatease,butsomethingterrifiedheraboutthewhite-facedboyandshehopedhewoulddecidequickly.Shewasastonishedatwhathesaidnext.‘Iwantyou.’Rubywasinherearly
fiftiesandhadretiredfromwhoringmorethantwentyyearsbefore.Duringthattime
suchrequestshadbeenmadebutdelicatelyorfirmlyrejectedasthecasemightbe.‘Butthesearesomeofthe
mostbeautifulwomeninthecountry.’‘I’mnotinterested.Onlyin
you.’Rubyknewhowtomake
thebestofherself,itwastrue.Shehadconsiderableskillinpaint–enough,nottoomuch–andshecouldaffordthe
besteffortsofthedressmakersofthecity.Shehadbynomeansletherselfgobutshelovedherfoodandwaspleasantlylazy.Andthetruthwasthatshehadneverbeenbeautiful.Shehadmadeherwaytothetopofacraftthattookadreadfultollonmostthroughherwarmthandwit.Herneckwastoolongformosttastes,shehadasmallnosebutofanunusual
shapeandlipssofulltheyvergedonthepeculiar.‘WhenI’mtired,’sheusedtojoke,‘Ilooklikeatortoise.’ButCalethoughtshewas
gorgeous.Shewasawomanofstrong
mind,andharshifsheneededtobe,butwhatcouldshedo?Thiswhite-facedboycouldnotberefused.Faced,then,withtheinevitable,sheputonthesmileshehadcontrived
overthirtyyearsonherbacktocomeeasilyandgesturedhimtowardsthedoor,watchedbytheopen-mouthedandexcitedtarts.‘Whoonearthwasthat
funny-lookingkiddiewink?’saidthePuritanmaidenwhocouldnowstopweeping.‘You’resuchastupidslut!’
saidthegirlwho’dnowstoppedtormentingherpartnerwiththeswan’s
feather.‘ThatwasThomasCale.’ThePuritan’seyeswidened
indelightedhorror.‘Ihearhecamebackfromthedeadandkeepshissoultrappedinacoal-scuttle.’
RubyEversollmightnothavebelievedinrevenantsorimprisonedsoulsbutsheknewenoughhardfactsaboutCaletobeafraid.Shehad
oncebeenownedbyKittytheHareandwhileshewasdelightedbythenewsofhisdeath,andhowlongandhorriblehisdying,shewasawareofwhatkindofcreatureyouwouldhavetobetobecapableofmurderingKittyinhisownhome.Thefactthathewasjustasick-lookingboyonlymadehimmoreunsettling.Assheunlockedthedoortoher
apartmentsherealizedshewastrembling.RubyEversollhadnotshakenwithfearinaverylongtime.Calewouldhavebeen
astonishedifhe’dknownwhatRubywasfeeling.Ifhewasnot,perhaps,asapprehensiveasmostboysoffifteenorsixteenwouldhavebeeninthesamecircumstances,hewasstillnervous–slightlyoutofhis
depth,slightlyashamedatpayingsomeonetohavesexwithhim,butalsoagitatedattheunfamiliarpleasuresofawomansoverydifferentfromArbellorArtemisia.Atthethoughtofhislateloverhefeltastabofsomething–somethinglikeloss,somethinglikeremorse.Butthatwasalltooconfusingsoheputitawayandconcentratedonthe
statuesqueRuby.‘ShallIundress?’asked
Ruby.‘Um…yes,please.’It
certainlydidn’tsoundverycommandingbutRubywastooagitatedtonotice.Rubywasaprofessional;
Rubyknewherjob.Veryslowlyshebegantounclipthehooksandeyeletsatthefrontofherdressfromthetopdown.Assheopenedeachof
themCalebecametransfixedbyherbreasts.Heldinandforcedupwardsbytheengineeringtalentsofherdressmaker,witheachunclaspingthesoftroundness,heldupbythedress,seemedtoswellasiftheyweredesperatetobefreeatlast.Hedidnotnoticehe’dstoppedbreathing.Shedroppedthecorsettothefloor,undidherskirtand
steppedoutofit.Nowallsheworewasawhitesilkshift.Oddly,andtoRuby,incomprehensibly,shefeltdeeplyawkwardassheundidthetiesdownthefrontofthetissue-thinshiftandthenshruggedittothefloorandsteppedaway.Cale’slungs,ifnotCalehimself,decideditwastimetobreathe–anditwasthegaspsfromCalethatbegantotellRubythat
perhapsshehadmisunderstoodsomething.Abovethewaistshewas
nakednow.Evenasaslimyoungwomanshehadbeenproudofherbreasts.Shewasnolongerslim,oranythinglikeit,butwhateverherpleasureinbutterandeggsandwinehadadded,andithadaddedagreatdeal,herbreastshadretainedsomethingoftheiryouthful
lift.Theywere,toputitsimply,verylarge,thepinknipplesenormous.Cale,usedonlytothesightofthelitheArbellandthetinyArtemisia,forwhomtheworddelicatewasgross,staredasifhewasseeinganakedwomanforthefirsttimeagain.Howwasitpossible,hethought(thoughthoughtwasnearlyparalysed),forthesamecreaturetobesodifferent?
Hehadnot,ofcourse,sharedVagueHenri’sgawpingepiphanywhilespyingontheabundantRibawhenshewasbathingintheScablands.Reachingtooneside,Rubyundidthedrawstringsatthesideofherpalebluepantalettesandletthemdroptothefloor.ItwasaswellthatCalehadbeenundergoingaperiodoffeelingstrongerthatweekor
elsehemighthavedroppeddeadonthespotandthefutureoftheworldtakenaverydifferentturn.Therewasanintense
stillnessintheroomasCale,utterlystruck,lookedatRuby.Rubybegantofeelherdreadoftheboyrecedeandthealmostforgottenpleasureofintoxicatingsomeonewiththepowerofherbodyreassertitself.Slowly,
enjoyingeachstepmore,shewalkedtowardshimand,holdingoutherarms,therewasnootherworld,foldedCaleintoherbody.Thatmoment,thesenseofbeingwrappedinaparadiseyoucouldsmellandtouch,wouldstaywithhimuntilthedayhedied,tobeturnedoverinhismindwheneverhewasathislowestpoint,arefugeagainstdespair.
Butnowhewasburningwithgreed.Hedraggedherontothebedandbeganasifhewantedtoeatherup.Hismouthandhandswereeverywhere,fascinatedbyeverythingabouther.Herbellywasfat,nothingliketheboy-flattummiesofArbellandArtemisia.Ruby’sstomachwasroundandpillow-softandshimmeredwhenhetoucheditlikeone
ofthecurdsinthebanquetsoftheMaterazzi.Shewasallcurvesandfoldsandhetouchedhereverywhere,hisdelightsogreatthatshebegantolaugh.‘Patience,’shesaid,andgottoherknees.Hekneltbehindher,lipsdevouringherneckandexperienced,accordingtotheHunterians,oneofthesevengreatpleasurestheworldhastooffer–holdingapairof
weightybreastsinthepalmsofbothhands.Asifdesperatetodiscover
theothersix,hepushedRubybackontothebedandbegankissinghernippleswithsuchunrestrainedhungerthathewenttoofar.‘Ow!’shesquealed.Hesatup–shockedand
alarmed.‘I’msorry.I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantohurtyou.’
Theniphadbeenreallypainfulbuthewassoremorsefulandshesotakenabackbytheintensityofhisdesireforherthatshecoulddonothingbutreachforhischeekandsmile.‘It’sallright,’shesaid,and
fannedherfacewithherotherhand.‘Justslowdownalittle.’‘Tellmewhattodo,’he
saidsweetly.Nowshefelt
howhystericalshe’dbeentoprojectsuchdreadaroundsuchengagingregretandsuchinnocence.‘Well,Idon’twantto
dampenyourenthusiasmbutjusttrytodrawthelineateatingmeup.’Inthehoursthatfollowed,
Caleexperiencedanotherthreeoftheremainingsixgreatpleasures(abouttwoofthemitis,quiterightly,
againstthelawofthelandtobeanythingotherthansilent).
Kleist’sobservationthatwhereverCalewentafuneralwassuretofollowhadbecomeacommonplace.CertainlythegeneralviewofthehideouseventsthattookplaceinRuby’sHouseofComfortslaterthatnightwasthatitprovedthattruismsgetthatwaybybeingtrue.It
was,ofcourse,unfairtosuggestthatCalewasresponsibleforwhathappened,andpreposteroustostatethatitwasclearevidenceofhissupernaturalstatusassomekindofearthlysurrogateofdeathhimself.But,asVipondwaslatertoobservetohisbrother,ifCalehadn’tinsistedongettingintoanargumentwiththesex-barkerthateveningitwould
haveendedwithonlyaslightbruisetohissenseofhisownimportance.‘Soitwashisfault,’said
IdrisPukke,‘thatsomedog-shitgatherercutthethroatofahigh-classtartbecausehethoughtshewaslaughingatthesizeofhispenis?’‘Ofcoursenot.Butit’snot
coincidenceeither–hemaynotbetheAngelofDeathbuttherearesomepeoplebornto
causetroubleintheworld.Andhe’soneofthem.’
Shortlybeforeteno’clockthatevening,asCalelaypleasantlyexhaustedonRuby’sbed(blanketsofLintoncashmere,sheetsofErispidersilk),amaninhisearlythirtiesarriveddownstairsattheHouseofComfortsforaonce-in-a-lifetimeexperienceofbeauty.
Hewasapurist–whichistosaythathespenthisdayscollectingpurefromthestreetsofSpanishLeeds.Purewaswhatthelocaltanners,whorequireditsnoxioussubstancestosoftenleather,calleddog-shit.Ifthesex-barkerhadrealizedhisprofessionthemanwouldnothavebeenletthroughthedoor,butthepuristhadknownbetterthantopresent
himselfatsuchaspecialplaceintheclothesofthelowestofthelow.He’dhiredasuitandhadawashatthemunicipalbathhouseandashaveatthebarbers.Hewassonervousaboutbeingrejectedhe’dalsodrunkmorethanhe’dintended.ButhaditnotbeenforhisrowwithCaleearlierthatevening,thebarkerwouldprobablyhavedecidedthatthepuristdidn’t
lookquiterightandwasjustalittletoomuchtheworsefordrink.Itwasaquestionoftone:Ruby’swasahigh-classplaceandthepuristdidn’tpassthetest.Butonthisnighthedid.Thebarkerwaspeeved;more,hewasmiffed.He’dbeenhumiliatedbecauseofCaleandsothatnighthedecidedtotakeitoutonhisfatslutofabossandletthepuristin.
TheshriekthatreachedthemasCalelaywithhisheadonRuby’sleftbreastwasoneheknewhorriblywell:theterrorofsomeonewhorealizedtheyweregoingtodie.‘MyGod!’Rubystartedto
herfeetandbegantodressbutCalewasatthedoorandtryingtolockitshutwhenitburstopen,knockinghimbackwards.Havingkilledone
ofthewhores,thepuristhadpanickedandheadedthewrongwayintothedeadendofRuby’sapartment.Alreadytheshoutsofthebodyguards–Rubyhadfour–madeitclearhecouldnotretreat.Hesteppedintotheroom,lockedthedoorbehindhimandgrabbedRubyaroundtheneck,pullinghertowardsthewindow.Terrifiedashewas,hesawthatthreefloorsup
therewasnoescapehere.Cale,whohadtakena
heftyblowtohisforehead,slowlystoodup.‘Thathurt,’hesaidtothe
purist.‘GetmeoutofhereorI’ll
cutthisbitch’sthroataswell.’Theevidenceofdeathwas
allovertheman–itcoveredhisfaceandthehiredsuitandtheoddlysmallknifehewas
holdingatRuby’sneck.‘CanIputmytrouserson?’‘You’llstaywhereyouare.
Moveandshe’sdead.’‘HowamIsupposedtoget
yououtofhereifIcan’tmove?’Calecouldheartalking
outside.Thenoneofthebodyguardscalledout.‘TheBadielsareontheir
way!Youcan’tgetout.Letthewomangoandwewon’t
hurtyou.’ThepuristpushedRuby
(whowasimpressivelycalmunderthecircumstances,thoughtCale)towardsthedoor.‘TelltheBadielstoletme
go.IftheytrytocomeinI’llcutherthroat.ThenI’llcuttheboy’sthroataswell.’‘CanItalktothem?’Cale
asked.‘Youshutthefuckupor
I’llcutherthroat.’‘Idon’tthinkyouwill.’‘Justwatchme.’‘Whywasteahostage
whenifItalktothemIcouldhelpyouout?’‘Howcouldascrawnychit
likeyoubeofanyuse?’‘Letmetalktothemand
findout.Whathaveyougottolose?’Thepuristthoughtfora
momentbutthoughtwasn’t
comingeasily.Thebleaknessofhissituationwasclosingin.‘Allright.Butwatchwhat
yousayorI’llcutherthroat.’Calewalkedtothedoor.‘That’sfarenough,’said
thepurist.‘Who’sinchargeout
there?’calledoutCale.Ashortsilence.‘Iam.’‘Canyoutellmeyour
name?’Anothersilence.‘AlbertFrey.’‘Allright,MrFrey,I’dlike
youtotellthisgentlemanwhoIam.’‘Idon’tgiveafuckwho
youare,’saidthepurist.Freyhadaproblem.An
intelligentman,he’ddecidednottoreferatalltoCaleonthegroundsthathe’dbehandingthekillerahostage
whowouldgivehimevenmorepower.WasthisreallywhatCalewanted?‘It’sallright,MrFrey,’
saidCale.‘Youcantellhim.’Anotherpause.‘Theyoung
manintheroomwithyouisThomasCale.’Thepuristlookedatthe
paleandskinnynakedboyinfrontofhimandcomparedthesightwithwhateverlegendshe’dheard.The
mismatchwassimplyrevealed.‘Bollocks!’saidthepurist.‘Itisn’tbollocks,’said
Cale.‘Proveitthen.’‘Idon’tseehowIcan.’HenoddedatCale’sgroin.
‘P’rapsyoucanpisspoisonalloverme.Canyou?’‘UnfortunatelyIhada
slashjustbeforeyoucamein.Itmighttakeawhile.’
‘IhearThomasCalekeepshissoulinacoal-scuttle.Isthatright?’‘Idon’tevenknowwhata
coal-scuttleis.’Therewasathunderous
bangonthedoor.Thepurist,startled,draggedRubybackandpressedtheknifehardertoherthroat.‘MrCale!’boomeda
voice.‘Yes!’
‘Youshutup!’shoutedthepurist.‘Areyouallright?’Caleraisedhislefthand,
palmoutwardtoaskthepurist’spermission.Tooscaredtospeak,themannoddedhisagreement.‘I’mOver-BadielGanz,’
saidtheman.‘Tellthatevil-doerthatifhecomesouthe’llgetafairtrial.’Thepuristgavea
frightenedgaspofderision.‘AndthenbetakenstraighttoToppingBobtocutmyheadoff.’‘Doyouhearme!’shouted
Ganz.‘Comeoutofthereandnoonewillharmyou.’Caleraisedhisvoice.‘Over-BadielGanz,thisis
ThomasCale.’Therewasasilence–a
nervousone.‘Yes,sir.’
‘IfyousayanotherworduntilItellyoutoyou’regoingtobeverysorry.Doyouunderstand?’Anotherpause.‘Yes,sir.’Thistimehewas
barelyaudible.Calestaredatthepurist.
‘You’recompletelywrong,y’know,aboutthemcuttingyourheadoff.’‘Whatd’youmean?’‘Abouteightmonthsago,
giveortake,Isignedawarrantonayounggirl,sixteenorseventeenyearsold,andthenextdayshewastakenintotheSquareofMartyrsinChartresandtheyhangedher,thentookherdownandrevivedher,thentheexecutionercutheropenandwhileshewasstillconsciouscookedherbowelsinfrontofher.Yousee,thethingisIlikedher.Ilikedher
alot.’HecalledouttoGanz.‘Didyouhearthat,Over-Badiel?That’showthismanistodie,youunderstand?’‘Yes,sir.’Calelookedbackatthe
purist.‘Now,eventhoughIdon’t
likeyouI’mgoingtomakeadealwithyou.’‘I’llcutherthroat–that’s
thedeal.’‘Goahead,’saidCale.‘I’m
sicktodeathofhearingyoutellmewhatyou’regoingtodo.She’sjustawhore.’‘WhenIcutherthroatI’ll
dothesameforyou.’‘No,youwon’t.’He
smiled.‘Allright,youprobablywon’t.Mebeingnakedandallthatisadisadvantage,true.ButI’mnotahelplessgirl.IknowwhatI’mdoing.’Hewasbluffing.Hemighthavefelt
wellenoughforoncetoexperiencefourofthesevenpleasureswithRubybutwithoutthePhedraandMorphineanythingmorearduouswaswellbeyondhim.‘I’mtheonewiththe
knife.’‘Allright,soyoukillme.
They’restillgoingtosliceyourtonkoffandcookitinfrontofyou.’
Withallthetalk,andwhattalkitwas,thepuristhadtimeforthehorribleeventsandthehorriblepredicamentthey’dputhimintotakeeffect.Hewasvisiblyshaking.‘What’sthedeal?’hesaid,
voicecatching.‘Thedealisyouletthetart
goandI’llkillyou.’Rubyhadbeen
impressivelycalmuntilthenand,tobefair,hereyes
bulgedonlyalittle.‘Areyoutakingthepiss?
I’llcutherthroat.’‘Soyoukeepsaying.You
knowaswellasIdoyouwereoveranddonewiththemomentyoukilledthatgirl.Youcan’ttakethatback.Youeitherletmedealwithyounowanditwillbequickandpainlessoryouwaitafewdaysandbecomealegendforsuffering.Fiftyyearsfrom
nowpeoplewillstillbesaying,“Iwasthere.”’Nowthepuristbeganto
cry.ThenhestoppedandterrorbecameangerandhetightenedhisgriponRuby.Thenhebeganweepingagain.‘It’llbequick,’saidCale.
‘I’llbethebestfriendyoueverhad.’Therewasmoreweeping
andmorepanicbutthenhe
loosenedhisholdonRubyandsheeasedherselfaway.Thepurist,nowcryinguncontrollably,stoodwithhisarmsdownbyhisside.Calewentovertohimandslowlytooktheknifefromhishands.‘Kneeldown,’hesaid
softly.‘Please,’saidthepurist,
thoughitwasnotclearwhy.‘Please.’CalewasrememberingthatKittythe
Harehadsaidthattoobeforehedied.Caleputhishandonthe
man’sshoulderandeasedhimdownward.‘Sayaprayer.’‘Idon’tknowany.’‘Repeatafterme:Intomy
hands,OLord,Icommendmyspirit.’‘Intomyhands,OLor…’AsuddenstabfromCale
underhisleftear.Thepurist
fellforwardandlayabsolutelystill.Thenhebegantojerk.Thenstop.Thenjerk,thenstop.‘ForGod’ssake,finish
him,’calledoutRuby.‘He’sdead,’saidCale.
‘Hisbody’sjustgettingusedtoit.’Anhourlater,justbefore
CalelefttheHouseofComforts,andwhiletheywerefinishingadrinkalone,
Rubysaidtohim,‘Ifelttherewassomethingdreadfulaboutyouearlieron.ThenIthoughtyouwerelovely.NowIdon’tknowwhattothink.’Shewastired,ofcourse,
andthoughshe’dseenmorethanafewbadthingsthiswastheworstnightofherlife.Still,itwasn’twhatCalewantedtohearandheleftwithoutsayinganythingmore.
PARTFIVETheAngelofDeathhasbeenabroadthroughouttheland;youmayalmosthearthebeatingofhiswings.
JohnBright
34
TherehavebeensixbattlesfoughtatBlothimGor.Nooneremembersanyofthesefightsexceptinthename:‘Blot’isancientPittanforblood,asis‘him’inthelanguageoftheGalts,who
wipedthemoutandstoletheirland.‘Gor’meansthesameinoldSwiss.Blood,blood,blood–afittingplaceforthefirstuseofRobertHooke’shand-shooters.ThewarontheMississippiplainshadlastedsixmonthsbythetimehegotthebalanceofmetals,powderandeaseofuse.Untilthenthefightingcouldhavegoneeitherway.Thebutcher’sbillwas
hideous,theRedeemers’willingnesstodieintheirthousandswasbeginningtoedgeouttheadvantageofthewarwagonsandthefrayingsoldiersinsidethem,borntocutwood,milkcowsanddigpotatoes.Whatkeptthemfightingwasthesight,andrumoursofthesight,ofThomasCale.Inthedyinglightofduskhewouldappearonbuttesandoncragged
ridgesandrockywolds,still,exceptwhenthewindblewhiscloakbehindhimlikeawing,watchingoverthem:pathfinder,dreadfulguardianstewardwithhislegsakimboorkneeling,watchingwithhisswordacrosshisknees,shadowypredator,darkcustodian.Andthenthestoriesbegantomaketheirwaythroughbastionafterbastionofamysteriouspale
youngman,nomorethanaboy,whowouldturnupwhereverthefightwasalmostlostandbattlesidebysidewiththewoundedandthelost,hispresencecalmingtheirfearandradiatingitbackintotheheartsoftheiralmosttriumphantenemy.Andwhenitwasover,andimpossiblytheyhadwon,hewouldbindthewoundsofthelivingandpray,tearsinhiseyes,forthe
dead.Butwhentheylookedforhimagainhewouldbegone.ScoutsreturnedwithstoriesofbeingtrappedbytheRedeemerswhenallhopewaslostandtheyhadsurrenderedthemselvestoadreadfulfatewhenanashenyoungmanemergedfromnowhere,hoodedandthin,andfoughtbesidethemagainstimpossibleoddsonlytoprevail.Yetwhenthefight
wasoverhewasgone,sometimestobeseenwatchingfromanearbyhill.Balladswerewrittenand
spreadwithintheweektoeverywagonontheMississippiplains.ManyhadbeenwrittenbyIdrisPukkehimself,afterthesestorieshadfilteredbacktoSpanishLeeds.Hehireddozensoftravellingsingerstogoaroundthewagonssinging
hisfolksongs.ButtheyalsopickeduptheoneswrittenbythemenoftheNewModelArmythemselves,clumsier,moresentimentalthanthosewrittenbyIdrisPukkebutmostlymorepowerful,somuchsothatwhenthereturningsingersplayedthemtohimhecouldfeelthethrillalonghisneckandarms,findinghimselfmovedandshakeneventhoughheknew
theywerejustpropagation.‘Whatistruth?’saidCale,
whenIdrisPukketoldhim,shamefaced,abouthowthesongsmadehimfeel.Cale,forwhateverreason,
perhapsshameoracoolerheadeventhanIdrisPukke’s,claimedthatwhilethecircus,ashereferredtothetwentypuppetCales,haditseffectinkeepingtheNewModelArmyfromdisintegrating
throughthespringandsummercampaign,theirresilienceowedasmuch,ormore,tohisabilitytokeepthewagonssuppliedwithdecentfoodandweaponsandnewmenwithgoodbootsandwarmclothes–alldeliveredthroughthelightweightcartsthatNevinhadmadeforhimandwhichcouldmovesofastevenoverbadterrainthattheRedeemerswererarelyable
tointerdictthem.Noone,hesaidtoIdrisPukke,wantstosingaheroicsongaboutadecentpairofbootsandlightweightsupplywagons.Evenso,itwasadamned
close-runthing.ItwasHooke’skillingmachinesthatbroughttheRedeemerstotheirkneesontheMississippiplains.Untilthen,theywereusingnewtacticsagainstthewagons,Greekfireanda
lighterbatteringramunderahoodofbambootoprotectthemfromtheblowsandarrowsofthebastions.Theyalsohadanadvantagebecauseoftheirbeliefthatdeathwasmerelythedoortoabetterlifeand,ofcourse,thatthelifetheyleftbehindwasadesert.ButHooke’sgunsofferednotonlymoreslaughterthaneventheRedeemerscoulddealwith
butalsohorribleinjuries,eachblastwoundingasmanyassixmenatatimewithraggedcutsthatcouldnotbestitchedoreasilycleanedsothatthewoundsbecamesepticandrefusedtoheal.AndHooke’swasnottheonlyinventivemindconcernedwithdealingoutpainandinjury:ithadoccurredtothepeasantsthatiftheymixedalittledog-shit
withthecontentsofthehandgunstheycouldensurethatthehideouswoundsinflictedbythemwouldfestermostpainfully.Withinthreemonthsthe
NewModelArmywasbackovertheMississippiandwithabridgeheadatHalicarnassustheywereabletodefend,despitethemurderouscounter-attacksoftheRedeemers,forthesame
reasonithadbeenthelastplacetofall.UpuntilBexthewar
againsttheRedeemersbroughtonlydefeat;afterHooke’shandgunsitwasonlyvictory.Buttherewasnotaneasytriumphinanybattle,fromtheclashatFinnsburghbetweenbarelyenoughmentofillapublichouse(andwheretheonlymemberoftheSwissroyal
familydiedduringanunluckyvisittobringatonictothetroops)tothefivehundredthousandwhodrewuptofaceoneanotherinthebattleforChartres.Whoremembersthe
individualbattlesinanywar,morethantheoccasionalname,letalonewhathappenedthereorwhyitwasimportant–oreventhewaritself?Whichofyouhas
forgottenthebattlesthatledThomasCaletothewallsoftheSanctuaryitself?WherearethecenotaphsrememberingDessauBridgeorthebattleatDoggerBank?WherearethememorialstotheFirstFitna,thesiegeofBelgrade,theHvarRebellionortheWaroftheOranges?WhocantellyouabouttheStrellusandtheirmatchlessdefenceofthegrainsiloat
Tannenberg,ortheslaughteratWinnebago,orthedefeatatKadeshwheretwentythousandmenfrozetodeathinasinglenight?WherearethehengesatPearlHarbourorLadysmith?Wherearetheshrines,theheadstonesasfarastheeyecansee,forDunkirkorthefallofHatusha,forAinJalutandSyracuseorthemassacreatTutosburg?Andwhy
rememberthefirstdayoftheSommewithsomanytearswhenmorediedmorehorriblyatTowtoninanafternoon?Afterathree-monthsiegeoftheHolyCity,thetotaldeathswerehowmany?Noonewascountinganymore.Laterthesameday,after
thecityfell,CaleandVagueHenristoodintheSistineChapelunderitsglorious
ceilingdepictingGodcreatingman–handsoutstretchedtooneanotherineternallove.‘Beautiful,isn’tit?’said
VagueHenri.‘Yes,itis,’saidCale,and
meantit.‘Haveitpaintedwhite.’
TherewasaknockonGil’sdoorthatimmediatelyseemedtosay‘Iamatimidandguilty
person.’‘Comein.’Itwasatimidandguilty
person:Strickland,Bosco’sbodyservant,amanwhosesenseofhisownmiserableinadequacyandinnateworthlessnesshungabouthimlikeapersonalfog.‘Therewasnooneinthe
ante-room,’saidStrickland.‘SoIknocked.’WhatGilwantedtosay
was:Sowhat?Getonwithit.Whatheactuallysaidwas:‘HowmayIhelpyou,Redeemer?’Infact,hewasextremelycurious.NotevenStricklandwouldhaveactedsoguiltilyifhe’dbeeninstructedtocome.Somethingmustbeup.Hehedgedandummedandthencameoutwithit.‘HisHolinesshasbeenin
hisroomforsixdaysand
nightswithoutfoodandonlyacupofwateronceaday,whichhe’sinstructedmetoleaveoutsidehislockeddoor.’Whilethedenialof
pleasurewasmoreorlessapermanentstateofaffairsfortheRedeemers,fastingformorethanadaywasregardedwithsuspicion.Fastingforsixdayswasforbidden:suchextremesbroughtabout
strangeresults.MostoftheRedeemerheresies,includingAntagonism,hadbegunwithmadvisionsbroughtonbystarvation.ButGilwasn’tsurprised,exactly.ThegapsbetweenaudienceswithBoscohadbecomeeverlonger–threeweekswasnotuncommon.ThemorevictorieswonbyCale,andthesedaystherewereonlyvictories,themoremeetings
werecancelledbecausethemoreincomprehensiblewasGod’splantobringabouttheremakingofthehumansoul.ForBosco,Calewasnottheexecutioneroftheplanbutrathertheplan’sincarnationonearth.NowthatincarnationwasattheoutskirtsofChartresandcertaintotakeit,BoscoandtenthousandRedeemershadwithdrawntotheSanctuary.
‘Godmeanssomethingbythis,’Boscohadsaid.‘He’stellingmebutIcan’thear.’Gil’sdecisiontoleavehad
comeupagainsttheproblemofallsuchdecisions:itwaseasiersaidthandone.Wherewouldhego?Whatwouldhedo?Howwouldhelive?ThewithdrawaltotheSanctuaryhadhelped.NotevenCalecouldbreakintothisplace–notathousandlikehim.Two
thousandmen,letalonetenthousand,couldkeepthisplaceforever–andthearmywasn’tmadethatcouldstayoutsideitformorethanafewmonths.SoGildecidedtowaitandseeandputoneortwodevicesintooperation.PerhapsBoscowouldstarvehimselftodeathbuthedoubtedit.Somethingtoldhimthattherewastroubleinthis.Hestoodup.
‘Let’sgotohisrooms.’Takingseveralmenwith
himhemadehiswaytoBosco,tryingtoworkoutwhathewasgoingtodo–butwhenhearrivedatthetinycorridorleadinguptoBosco’sapartmentsthePopewasstandinginthedoorwayandsmiling.‘Gil,mydear!’hesaid.
‘WhenItellyouwhatallthismeansyou’lllaughatmefor
failingtoseesomethingsoveryobvious.Icouldn’tseeforlooking.Comein,mydearfellow.Comein.’AndinthismoodofjubilationanalarmedGilwashurriedintoBosco’smostprivaterooms.
SonowthearmiesoftheAxisturnedsouthtowardsthegreatbarbicanandbuttressoftheRedeemerfaith,tothefountainandtheoriginofit
all:thegreatcatastropheitself.TherewasnotmuchofasenseoftriumphasthesiegearmycampedoutsidethehulkingmassofthetabletopmountainonwhichtheSanctuarywasconstructed.ChartreswasnotbuilttobeheldagainstanarmyandyetithadneededthreemonthsofbloodandsufferingbeforetheNewModelArmywereabletoget
insideitsdefences.TheSanctuarywasaproblemofadifferentorder.Noonehadcomeclosetotakingitinsixhundredyears.Itwashardtoseehowanyonecould:itwasvastenoughtofeeditselfonthemiraculouslyfertilesoiltransportedfromtheVoynichoasisandtherewerevatstostorewaterfortwoyearsormore.Butonthearidscrubthatsurroundeditevendog
grassandarse-wipestruggledtosurvive.Insummertheheatwasunbearableeventhoughthenightswerefreezing,andinthewinter,onlyfourmonthsaway,itcouldgetsocolditwasclaimedbirdsfelloutoftheskyfrozensolid.Thiswasanexaggeration,ofcourse,notleastbecausetherewasn’tanythingmuchforbirdstoliveon.Itwasalsothecase,
forreasonsnooneunderstood,thatwintersweresometimesalmostmild.Mildornot,thescrublandsbeforetheSanctuarywerenotsuitableformentoliveinandparticularlynotmeninsuchlargenumbers.Butthereweremanymoredifficultiesthanmerelyfeedingtwentythousandsoldiersinhostilecircumstancesmilesfromanywhereinalandscape
which,fortwohundredmilesineverydirection,hadbeenscouredofeverysourceoffood,everywellpoisonedandeverybuildingburnt.Calewasnicelylooked
after,ithadtobesaid,incomfortablyoutfittedwagonswithleafspringsandadecentmattresstokeephimcomfortableonlongjourneys,andanotherlargerwagoninwhichtoworkandmeetthe
greatandthegood.Foralltheirsuccess,theforcesgatheredaroundtheSanctuaryrepresented,inpart,thoseashostiletoCaleastheRedeemersgawpingdownathimfromthewallsoftheSanctuary.OncetheyrealizedtheRedeemersmustlose,theLaconicshadchangedsidesandhadcontributedanarmyofthreethousandtotheAxis,which
wasnowcampedalongsidetheNewModelArmy.TheLaconicgeneralnotionallyincharge,DavidOrmsby-Gore,wasinfactanswerabletoFanshawe,whosecentralproblemwaswhethertomoveagainstCalenow,whentherewouldbemanyopportunities,orwaituntiltheSanctuaryfellandthengetridofhim.Thetroublewithwaitingwasthatitwas
nowclearthatconqueringtheSanctuarymighttakealongtime,easilylongenoughfortheRedeemerFifth,SeventhandEightharmies,who’dretreatedtotheirvastterritoriesinthewesttoregroupaftertheirmaulingatChartres,tocounter-attack.TheLaconicEphorswantedCaledeadoutofadesireforrevengeforthedefeatattheGolan,butFanshawewas
moreconcernedforthefuture.Itwasalongtimesincehe’dlearnedthatCalehadnotonlydeclinedtoexpeltheHelotsbuthadmadesuretheyhadbeentrainedtocreateaninsurgencyagainsttheLaconics.OnceCalehaddefeatedtheRedeemers,oratleastforcedthembackbeyondthePale,hefearedhewouldhaveenoughpowerandsympathyfortheHelots
totrainandsupplythem.Hemightevenintervenedirectlytosupportarebellion.Infact,lookingforacauseofanykind,otherthanthatofhisownsurvival,wasveryfarfromCale’smind.‘Whenit’sallover,we
couldbuyanicehouse,’saidVagueHenri.‘WhataboutthatTreetopsplaceyou’realwaysgoingonabout?’Calethoughtaboutthis
pleasantnotion.‘Hardtodefend.Treetops.It’sabittooclosetoalotofpeoplewithungenerousthoughts.Weneedtogooverthesea.’‘WhatabouttheHanse?I
betwithallthatmoneythey’vegotnicehouses.Onewithalakeorariver.’‘Besttogowherewe’re
notknown.IheargoodthingsaboutCaracas.’‘Wecouldbringthegirls
withus.’ThegirlsintheSanctuarywereadifficultsubjectbetweenthem.‘Theymightalreadybe
dead.’‘Buttheymightnot.’‘Allright.Iagree:anice
housewithlotsofgirlsinCaracasthen.’‘Dotheyhavecakesin
Caracas?’‘Caracasisfamousforits
cakes.’
TherewasnomoretimetoworkonthefuturebecauseIdrisPukkearrivedunexpectedlywithbadnewsfromSpanishLeeds.‘They’replanningto
impeachyou,’hesaid.‘Isuppose,’saidCale,
‘impeachisn’tagoodthing–notmedalsandaparadean’that?’‘No.Morelikeputyouon
trialinsecretintheStar
ChamberfollowedbyaprivatemeetingwithToppingBob.’‘What’shesupposedto
havedone?’askedVagueHenri.‘Doesitmatter?’‘Itdoestome,’saidCale.‘Setfiretothebridgeafter
Bex.’‘Theycan’tproveIdidit.’‘Theydon’tneedto.
Besidesyoudidsetfiretoit.
Alsoperjuryisacapitalcase.’‘Theytoldmetolie.’‘Butyoustilldidit.The
summaryexecutionofSwisscitizens.’Hedidnotsayanythingin
replytothisaccusationbecauseitwasalsotrue.‘Theillegalraisingof
taxes.’‘Theyagreedtothat.’‘Youhaveitinwriting?’
‘No.Whatelse?’‘Isn’tthatenough?Just
settingfiretothebridgewouldhavetheentirepopulationofSwitzerlandfightingtogettheirhandsontherope.’‘WhatchoicedidIhave?’‘Don’taskme,askthem.
AnimpeachmentbeforetheStarChamberdoesn’tatallrequirethattheaccusationsaretrueinorderforaguilty
verdict–butitdoesn’thelpthatyouactuallydidallthesethings.’‘Youcouldmarchon
SpanishLeedsyourself.’ThisfromVagueHenri.‘Notwithouttakingthe
Sanctuaryfirst.’CaleturnedtoIdrisPukke.
‘Whyaren’ttheywaitingtogetmeuntilafteritfalls?’‘They’reworrieditwill
taketoolong–orthatifit
doesn’ttheNewModelArmywilldoexactlywhatVagueHenrisays.’‘ButtheNewModelArmy
isstillSwiss–andtheKingrulesbythewillofGod.ThesameGodtheybelievein.’‘They’repeasants,not
Swisscitizens–andthey’renotpeasantsanymore.Warschangepeople.’‘It’saskingalot,’said
Cale.
‘Tryaskingit.’‘Nottillwe’vetakenthe
Sanctuary.Thenwe’llsee.’‘Andyourinvitationto
Leeds?’‘I’mprettysureyoucan
findtherightwords.Besides,itmaynotbeaslongasthewhingersthink–takingdowntheSanctuary.Hookewillbeheretomorrowwithanewengine.’‘Andifitworks,what
then?’‘I’llworryaboutthatwhen
ithappens.’‘Tobehonest,Idon’tthink
youcanaffordtodothat.Youneedtostartmakingplansnow.’‘Wewerethinking,’said
VagueHenri,‘ofgoingtoCaracas.’‘I’mafraidthisisn’tthe
timeforstupidjokes.I’dsaythechancesofyoubeing
allowedtoretiretoapeacefulretreatareapproximatelynone.’‘Norestforthewicked?’‘Somethinglikethat.You
havemanytalents,Thomas,andmakingenemiesisoneofthem.’‘Nobodylikesus,’said
VagueHenri.‘Wedon’tcare.’IdrisPukkelookedathim.
‘You’rebeingmorethan
usuallytrying,Henri.Iwonderifperhapsyoumightliketostop.’HeturnedhisattentionbacktoCale.‘You’veshownyourselftobeagreattactician,butthetimefortacticsiscomingtoanend.Whereareyougoing?That’sthequestionforyounow.’ButCalewasonlyaboy
whenallwassaidanddoneandhehadnoideawherehe
wasgoingandneverhadknown.
ThenextdayHookearrivedwiththreeofhisnewhowitzers:bigfatbarrelsofsteel,inprinciplethesameashisall-conqueringhand-shootersbutsostronglybuiltthattheycouldfireaballofironthesizeofasmallmelon.Ittookseveralhourstosetupthehowitzersintheirugly
woodencradlesandworkouttheirelevationsforthefirstassaultonthewallsoftheSanctuary,whichwereuniquelystrongbecausethestoneshadbeenmortaredtogetherwithamixturemadefromriceflour,whichsetlikethehobofhell.Confidentofsuccess,
Hookehadarrangedforallthreetobesetoffbymeninspeciallypaddedarmour.The
armywhogatheredtowatchpressedinsocloselythatthefiringhadtobedelayedwhiletheywerepushedback,aprocesssolaboriousthatCaledecidedtoletthemstay.AwiserheadprevailedinHookeandeventuallythewatchingsoldierswerefarenoughbacktosatisfyhimthatthefiringcouldgoahead.Thethreemenintheirspecialarmourlumberedwiththeir
torchestowardsthehowitzersandlitthefuses.Therewasashortfizzofpowderandthenamassiveandalmostsimultaneousexplosion,whichbursttwoofthehowitzersintoadozenpieces,cuttingdownallthreeofthearmouredmenandshootingbackintothecrowdofsoldiersandkillingafurthereight.Thethirdgunfiredasitwasmeanttoandsentthe
massivecannonballsmashingintothewalloftheSanctuary,whereitsimplybouncedoff,leavingbehindasmalldent.TherewouldbenoquickendtothesiegeoftheSanctuary.Butifitwerenottobe
quickorevenreasonablysothenitwashardtoseehowhecouldavoiditcollapsing.WithwintercomingonCalewouldhavetodispersethe
armybeforeitfellapartthroughlackoffood,waterandthemomentumneededtokeepsuchdisparategroups–predictablytheNewModelArmyandtheLaconicsalreadyhatedeachother–inthefieldinsuchhostileconditions.EvenCalewassurprisedtorealizehowlittlesafetyhisgreatsuccessesofthelastfewmonthshadbrought.Inmanyways,he
wasn’tmuchsaferthan,say,thedayafterDeidrehadslaughteredtheTwoTrevors.He’dexpectedtoreachapositionofpowerthatofferedarespite,adefence,anasylum,buthecouldseethatwhilehereallydidhavepower,greatpower,itwasn’tmadeofthesolidstuffhe’dthoughtitwouldbe.He’dthoughtitwouldbelikeawall,butitwasn’t:itwaslike
somethingelsehecouldn’tputhisfingeron.Buthoweverelusivethe
questionofhowpowerfulpowerreallywas,heclearlyhadagreatdealofitandthatwaswhyhewasabletodosomethingveryfoolish.He’dbecomeobsessedwithknowledgeandfearedneverhavingenoughofit.Itwastohimlikethesootherhesawinthemouthsofinfants.Hesaw
veryearlyonthatinformationwasoddstuff:youcouldeasilyendupwithtoomuch,ormostofitwaswrongor,evenworse,correctbutinahalf-bakedormisleadingway.Still,hefanciedhimself,withsomereason,asagoodsifterofthestuffandhadlearnednevertotrustonesource,noteventhesourcehevaluedmostintheworld:IdrisPukke.Itwastruehefelt
acertainshameaboutthisbutnotenoughtostophim.ThemostimportantofthesealternativeswasKoolhaus,whohadgrownevermoredisdainfulandobnoxiousthemorehewasabletodemonstratehissuperiorintellectualgiftstotheworld.ItwasneverenoughforKoolhaustoberight,someoneelsehadtobewrongaswell–andhewantedthem
toknowit.Thiswasaweakness,perhapsacripplingone,aswasthefactthathisemotionalgraspoftheworldwasrathercrude.Nevertheless,asasourceofinformationandanevaluatorofithewasinvaluable.TherewasalsoKleist.Intelligencingwasthekindofworkhewasgoodatandwhichkepthimbusy:itwasenoughtodistracttoacertain
extentfromthefactthathewasdangerouslyclosetothesharpknifeortheexpensivenarcoticfromwhichhewouldneverwakeup.Kleistwasnotreadyyetbuthethoughtaboutitoften.Hemadeitthroughmanybitternightscomfortinghimselfwiththethoughtthathecouldbringthingstoanend.ThentherewasSimonMaterazzi.CalehadgivenSimonthefreedom
togowhereverhewanted.Simoncouldtellhimwhatwashappeninginthecampsandthestreets.ItwasSimonwhowasthefirsttolethimknowthatthepuppetCaleswereworkingtoraisespiritsandthefirsttolethimknowwhentheendlessdefeatsandtheslaughterthatfollowedhaddemoralizedthetroopstosuchanextentthattheycouldn’tgoonworkingany
more.ButbythenHookehadperfectedandmadehundredsoftheshootersthatweretochangeeverythingandgivethementheonethingthatmademanipulationoftheirtrustunnecessary:success.ItwasfrombothKoolhausandKleistthatCalereceivedthesameinformationatalmostthesametime,andfromIdrisPukkeshortlyafter:ArbellMaterazzihadbeen
givenpermissiontoleavefortheprotectionoftheHanse.Itrevoltedandshockedhimhowmuchithurttoreadthatshewasleaving.Evenherealizedthestupidityoffeelingasifshehadbetrayedhimalloveragain.Heneverstopped,notreally,thinkingabouther.Herealized,andthisprovedit,thatsheneverthoughtabouthimatall,unlessassomeonetobe
avoided.Noamountofangerwithhimselfatthegrossnessofhisstupiditycouldstophisuselessandchildishheartfromcryingoutabovehisfury:Howcouldshe?Howcouldshe?Ifyoudespisehimorfind
hisweaknessdetestableorevenmerelyirritatingitwasnomorethanhefoundhimself.Shewasaninfectioninhissoulandthatwasthat.
Theidiocyofwhathedidnextwasobvioustohimevenashedidit:hewrotetoKleistandtoldhimtotakehowevermanytroopsoftheSpanishLeedsgarrisonoftheNewModelArmyheneededtoarrestherandbringhertotheSanctuary.‘Fuckingidiot!’said
Kleist,onreadinghisorder.Butatleastitgavehimsomethinginterestingtodo.
‘Windsorhasthecrab.’‘Really?Badluck,’said
Fanshawe.‘He’ssure?’‘Hadoneofthequacks
lookhimover.He’sadeadman.’‘It’sanillwind,Isuppose,’
saidFanshawe.‘PossiblyWindsorwould
takeadifferentview,’saidOrmsby-Gore.Ormsby-GoredidnotcareforFanshawe.Hetalkedtoomuchandhehada
diplomaticwayoftellinghimwhattodothathesuspectedwasnotasdiplomaticasitsounded.Whatwerereallyordersweredressedupwith‘Iwonderifitwouldn’tbeagoodideaif…’or‘Icouldbemistakenbutitmightbeworthtrying…’andsoon.TheLaconicwaywastosaywhatyouhadtosaywiththefewestwordspossible,ahabitOrmsby-Goretookto
extremes.ForFanshawetobesoroundaboutinhisordersfeltlikehewastakingthepiss.‘Still,youhavetoadmit,’
saidFanshawe,‘it’sconvenientandhehasvolunteered.’Thecrab,atumourthat
grewintheneckandwassaidtolooklikeone,wasadiseasethatafflictedLaconicmales.Aboutoneinevery
fiftydevelopedthiscondition,whichwasheldbytheirenemiestobecausedbyeverythingfromtheirhideoussoup–madefrombloodandvinegar–toengagingintoomuchbuggerywithyoungboys.GiventhatitwasinvariablyfatalandthatlongillnessesinLaconicsocietywerenotablebytheirabsenceitwasthetraditionthatanyonesoafflictedwould
offerthemselvesforasuicidemissionasameansofmakingthemselvesuseful.‘Howbadisit?’‘Bad.’‘Butwehavesometime?’‘Suppose.’‘Itmightnotbenecessary
towaittoolong.’Hepaused,hopingthatOrmsby-Gorewouldbeforcedtospeak.Fanshawerecognizedthiswaschildishbutitgavehim
considerablepleasure.‘Whatdoyouthink?’Apause.‘Yourpatch.’‘Still,I’dbeveryinterested
inyouropinion.’‘Act,’saidOrmsby-Gore,
notbecausehebelievedtheyshouldmurderCaleimmediatelybutbecauseitofferedhimthechancetousethefewestnumberofwords.‘Youknow,Ormsby-Gore,
youcouldbeonto
something.Thosehowitzerthingiesofhiswerethemostappallingbloodyshambles.Whatacauchemar!Don’tyouthink?’‘Don’tspeakFrench,’said
Ormsby-Gore.‘Iknowwhatyoumean,’
agreedFanshawe.‘I’veoftenregrettedthatIdo.’Hedidn’thavetheslightest
interestinOrmsby-Gore’sopinionbutthequestionof
whentokillThomasCalewasstillaproblem.HearingrumoursaboutHooke’sarrivalhe’dbeenprettysuresomethinglikethehowitzerswasonthecards.IftheyhadworkedandtheSanctuaryfellquicklythenintheconfusionitmighthavebeenpossible,evenprobable,thatanarrowinthebackfromaRedeemerwouldbetakenatfacevalue.TheSwisswouldn’tgo
lookingforanexplanationandwithCaledeadthey’dgobacktoholdingthewhiphandintheAxisagain.TherewasonlytheNewModelArmytoworryabout–theyhatedtheLaconicsandiftherewereasniffoftheirinvolvementinCale’sdeaththere’dbetrouble,particularlyiftheywerestirredupbyIdrisPukkeandthatratherengaginglyyummy
Henriboy.But,handledwithcare,thecircumstancesmightmeanthere’dbenosuspicionatall.Badluckandhandkerchiefsallround.Thethingaboutsiegeswasthat,onceyouwerestuckintoonelikethis,whatmostlyhappenedwasnothing.Killinghimandtryingtomakeitlooklikesomethingelsewasalmostimpossibletogetawaywithwhennothing
muchwashappening.Windsorandhiscrabturningupwasanunexpectedbenefitbecausehewouldn’texpecttosurvivetheevent–butitwasmoreriskthanFanshawewaswillingtotake.Anopportunitymightcomebuthedecidedtowait.
35
‘You’reunderarrest.’Kleistwasratherpleased
withthewayhe’dusedthebridgeovertheRiverChesstocutArbellMaterazzi’sescortintwo.Notthatitwouldhavemademuch
differenceifthey’dtakenthemarmedonlywithwettowels.Theywerekids.TheMaterazzirumphadmostlydiedatBex.ThefewthatwerelefthadbeendumpedbyCaleandsenttoguardRedeemersintheprisoncampatTewkesburyinordertoavoidanychanceofoneofthemdistinguishinghimselfincombat.WhateverheowedVipond,helpingtoensurea
Materazzirevivalwasnotgoingtobepartoftherepayment.‘Onwhoseauthority?’
Arbellwaswithayoungman,softlyspoken.‘It’sMrKleist,isn’tit?’‘Youare?’‘HenryLubeck–Consulto
theHanse.’‘You’refreetogo,
Lubeck.’‘I’msorry,MrKleist,but
youhaven’tansweredmyquestion.’‘Beagoodboyandfuck
offoutofit.’‘It’sallright,MrLubeck,’
saidArbell.‘ThispersonisacreatureofThomasCale’s.You’vealawfulwarrant,ofcourse?’Kleisttookoutapieceof
paperandaleadpencil–thesedayshewasalwayshavingtowritethingsdown–
wrote‘You’reunderarrest’andsignedit.Hewasabouttohandittoherbutstopped.‘Thereshouldbeacharge.’Hethoughtforamomentandwrote‘Fortaxevasion’.‘Whataboutmyescort?
Whatwillhappentothem?’‘They’llbedisarmedand
comewithus.We’llletthemgoinacoupleofdays.’‘Whereareyoutaking
me?’
‘It’sasurprise.Butdon’tworry,you’llfinditinteresting.Youmightlearnsomething.Tellyourpeoplenottodoanythingstupid.Fiveminutesandwe’reonourway.’
Acoincidenceisapeculiarthing.Weallknowthateverytimewehappenonsomeoneweknowinanunexpectedplacetheremusthavebeena
hundredsuchmeetingsinourlivesthatneverquitecameabout–thatlong-lostlovewaseightyfeetawayinsteadoffive;ortheywerefivefeetawaybutwehappenedtobelookingintheoppositedirection.Andsoon.Eachcoincidenceimplieshundredsofnear-coincidencesalmosthappeningbutnotquite.There’ssomethingunpleasingaboutthelossofallthose
chancesforsomethingwonderfulthatmighthavechangedourlivesbutforafewfeetoranundistractedglance.Kleist’snearwonderful
eventthatdaywasthathiswifeDaisyandtheirchildwereinArbell’scolumn,wheretheywouldnowhavetostayforatleastthreedays.Itwasn’t,though,altogetheranamazingchancethatshe
wasthere.Daisyhadrecentlybeendismissedaskitchenchartoamerchantfamilyforstealingvegetables–notoneortwocarrotsandtheoddpotato,butsacksofthethings.Onceshe’dlefttheydiscoveredthatherlarcenyextendedtosmallbutvaluableitemsofjewellery.AsaresulttheHermandadcamelookingforDaisyandsherealizeditwastimetobe
gone.Theproblemwasthatshehadnousefulskills–shewasauselesscharwoman–andshehadababyandnoonewasleavingSpanishLeeds;withthefrontlineofthewarmovingeverwestwardtheywereonlycomingback.Afterseveralanxiousdays,unwillingtorisktheHermandadsonthecitygates,shehadbeenforcedtobribethecookin
Arbell’straintotakeheronasawasherwomanfornopay.Thisatleastgotthemoutofthecityandonceshewasoutitmadesensetostaywiththeprotectionofthecolumn.TherewereentirelyuntruerumoursofRedeemerfifthcolumns.FedupwithhardworkfornopayshehadbeenplanningtodisappearfromArbell’sentourageinthemiddleofthenightalong
withwhateverwasvaluableshecouldlayherhandson,butthearrivaloftheNewModelArmyhadputanendtothat.Itwasnowtoodangeroustorunforit.Itmightbethoughtinevitablethatinacolumnofonlytwohundred-oddpeople,mostofthemsoldiers,thatameetingwithwhatshethoughtwasherdeadhusbandwasboundtotakeplace.Butshemadea
pointofstayingoutofsight(justincase)andevenwhenshewasobligedtocomeoutofthewashingwagonitwasplacedattheendofthelinesothatnoonehadtolookatthemoremenialservantsgoingabouttheirmankytasks.Laydownyourbet,then,forthegreatgamealwaysplayingbehindourbacks–forDaisyalifeofgrimuncertainty,forKleista
solitarydeath.Rollthedice,spinthewheel,shufflethepack.Play.Kleisthadspentthefirst
dayridingatthefront,quitecomfortablynumb,theweatherwarm,theconstantlychangingsceneryanarcotictohiscancerousdistress.Despairwithitsfiftyshadesofgreycangivethesoulwoundeddayslikethis.Heonlywentbackdowntheline
once,whenArbellwasfinishinghereveningmeal.HemissedDaisyclearingupthedirtyplatesbynearlytwominutes.Thenextdaytherewasa
shouttohaltandherodebackdownthelinetoseewhatwascausingthedelay–abrokenspokeonanancientwagonwheel.DaisyhadbeensenttobringupwatertothenobsandshearrivedjustasKleist,
seeinghewouldjusthavetowaituntilthewheelwasfixed,turnedbacktothefront.Shecaughtabriefbutclearenoughsightofhim.Buthehadchanged;hewasgauntwherehehadoncebeenjauntyandvigorousinhisowncoolway.AndofcoursehewaslongdeadinthegulliesandbarancasoftheQuantockHills.Howcouldhebethisbigkahunaona
horsewiththepowertomakeeventhearistosshutupforonce?Onthethirdandlastday
Arbell’sfollowersweretoldtheycouldclearoff.Kleist,afterabadnight,wentdownthecolumntocheckthatnoonewashangingontoArbellwhomightbeanuisance.Shewasattemptingtotakefiveofherentouragewithher,includingtwomenwhowere
clearlyusedtohandlingthemselves.‘Youcanhavetwomaids.
That’llbeenough.’‘Andwho’stoprotectme?’‘Oh,we’lldothat,Your
Highness.You’reassafeasMemphiswithus.’‘Youthinkthat’sfunny?’‘Notreally–butit’shot
andit’sthebestIcandoatthemoment.Twomaids.’‘Three.’
‘Howaboutone?’Tomakethepointthatthis
wastheendoftheconversationheturnedhishorseawayandsteppeditdownthelineasifhewantedtocheckthathisorderswerebeingcarriedout.Daisywasaboutfiftyfeetaway,sidewaysonandbendingdowntopickuptheirdaughter,whokepttryingtorunawayunderthewheelsof
theturningwagons.Thistimehesawherfaceclearlyenough,butayearcanbealongtimeforsomeoneherageandshehadfilledout,nolongeralankygirlbutayoungwoman.Somethinginthewayshemovedstirrednowunpleasantmemoriesandhadshelaughedratherthanjustsmiledtoherselfatthelittlegirl’sdesperateeffortstogetfreeofher
protectiveembracehewouldhaverecognizedthesoundanywhere.AndthenshehadthechildfirmlyembeddedonherhipasitreachedoutwithpudgyhandstopullDaisy’snowmuchlongerhairandshemovedonpastacoveredwagonandoutofsight.Therewasnonumbnessnowbutaterriblesurgeoflossandgrief.Hewantedtogetawayandspurredthehorseback
towardsthefrontofthecolumnandsignalledthehorsemastertomovetheconvoyon.Itwasthemomentofthe
finalentryforKleistintotheblackplacewherethedoorsareshutandthewindowsarebarred.Exceptforonething.Asherodeeverfartherawayfromthemillionsofjoyshehadsonearlystumbledupon,hecouldnotentirelyforget
theimageoftheyoungwomanwhichhadgivenhimsuchdreadfulpain:theeasytodismissfamiliarityofthewayshemoved.Itmadesensetogetawayfromthecauseofsuchagony.Goingbacktolookatherwouldonlymakethingsworse.Butallthesameheturned
around.Thenhestopped.Itwasfoolish.Pointless.Ridiculous.Heturnedaround
againandrodeawayfromthewomanforseveralminutes,makingitimpossibletogobacktowoundhimselffurtherfornoreason.Toofarnow.Thensomepointlesshopeofsomething,ofatleastseeinganechoofeverythinghe’dlost,madehimturnagain.Hewantedtorushandnotrush.Butacertaincomposurereturnedtohim,asensethathewasheadedfor
alast,thinghostofareminderofherpresence.Youcouldnotcallithope,becauseshewasdead,butitwasmovementawayfromtheblackroom.Impatient,hedroveon,nowhehadmadethedecision,anxioustoseeitthrough.Lookather,getitoutofyoursystemandstopthisidiocy.Heracedpasttheendofhisowncolumnandthentowardsthemeandering
remainderofArbell’sformerfollowers.Ashearrivedtheylookedathimwarily–whatnewthunderhere?Heignoredthemandslowlybegantosearchamongtheuntidyline.Thenhesawherjustahead.WithhipsthatDaisyhadneverhad,healmostsaidnothing–shewasnotevenadistantsimulacrumofthegirlhe’dlost.Somethingterriblecollapsed
inhisheart.Heturnedthehorseawayatthepointlessness–butthehorse,havingbeenpulledaboutmorethanitthoughtfit,jibbedatanotherclumsypullandsnortedinirritation.Daisylookedroundattheunexpectedintensityofthesound,waryofharmtothelittlegirl.Kleiststaredather.Stillignorant,shestaredback,leeryofthepeculiar-
lookingyoungman,thenalarmedasshesawhisalreadypalefacegowhite.Heletoutadreadfulcryasifheweredying.Thenitcametoher.She
drewinabreathasdeepasifithadtolastfortherestofherlife.Hewasoffhishorseandtriedtogettohersoquicklyheslippedandfellinthemud,thenupandslippedagain,utterlyridiculous.
‘Daisy!Daisy!Daisy!’heshouted,thengrabbedherandthechildinamadembrace.Butshecouldn’tspeak,shecouldonlystare.Watchedbytheastonishedonlookers,theykneltinthemud,unabletoweep,andsimplygroaned.Thetoddlerfoundanewtoyinplayingwithherfather’shair,casuallyacceptingofthejoyousagonywrappingherinitsarms.‘Honour!’shouted
thebaby–althoughitcouldnothavebeenwhatshereallysaid,thatwaswhatitsoundedliketothewatchingservants.‘Honour!Honour!’Imaginethenthejumbled
brewofmixedandbruisedemotionsthatarrivedatthesiegecampinfrontoftheSanctuaryafewdayslater,thetraumatizedjoyofKleistandDaisyandtheseethingfearandangerofArbell
Materazzi.Calehadalreadyprepared
afenced-offcompoundforArbell,well-guardedandawayfromthenosyinthewalledtentcitythathadgrownupnearthewallsoftheSanctuary.He’dconsideredcarefullywhethertowallowinthepettinessofensuringthecompoundwasasuncomfortableaspossibleortoshowArbellthathewas
somebodytobereckonedwiththroughhisabilitytoprovideluxuryeveninashitholelikethescrublandinfrontoftheSanctuary.FortunatelyforArbell,hechosethelatter.Hewasalsoregrettinginahalf-bakedwayhisdecisiontobringherhereatall–it’snotgiventomanypeopletodowhatevertheywantandhewasdiscoveringanotherfacetofsuch
immenseclout:absolutepowertendstoconfuseabsolutely.Arbellandhertwomaids
weremetbyhernewguardsseveralmilesfromthecampandremovedtohercomfortableprisonsothatnoonewouldseeher.Kleistbarelynoticed;hecouldbarelycontainhimselfashetookhiswifeandchildtoseeCaleandVagueHenri.
Assoonashecameintotheircommandpost,wheretheywerefailingtocomeupwithasolutiontotheimpregnabilityoftheSanctuary,theycouldseeamiraculouschangeinhismanner,notjustbecausehewashappywherehe’dbeenforsolongmiserable,butthathehadabouthimanintensitythatmadehimseemalmostmad.Withhimcamethe
wide-eyedDaisy,holdingherbabyonherhip.Ingarbledburstsofrapturousspeechthestoryflowedoutofhim,disjointedandhardtofollow.Butthebasicswereclearenough:thiswasthewifeandchildcomebackfromthedead.Forthethreeofthemonethingunitedthem–astonishmentthatlifecouldeverbesomadlykind.Theywerebesidethemselves;
surprised,no,shockedbyjoy.TheyhuggedDaisy,huggedthebaby,thenhuggedDaisyagainanddemandedarepeatofthewholestory,fullofquestionsaboutwhereshe’dbeenandwhowith.AndthoughshewasmortifiedwhenKleisttoldthemwhyshe’dbeenontherunfromLeeds,theyweredelighted,particularlyVagueHenri,whoseloathingoftheruling
classofthecityhadonlyincreasedwithhisabsence.Theyorderedfoodanddrinkandgaveheranofficialpardonforallcrimesinthepast,and,astheyweresohappy,inthefutureaswell.AndthenDaisynoticedthatKleisthadgonecompletelywhite.Asshereachedforhimhefelloffhischair,hithishead–anappallingblowonthelegofthetable–and
threwup.ThequackswerecalledandhewastakenupcarefullybytheguardsandputinCale’sluxuriouswagon.‘He’sjustoverwrought,’
saidthedoctor.‘Notsurprising,really–I’dhaveastrokeifithadhappenedtome.Hejustneedssomepeaceandquietwithhiswifeandchild.He’llbeallright.’‘I’llleavemystewardwith
you,’saidCaletoDaisy.‘Anythingatallyouwant,justtellhim.We’llcomebacklater.’‘Makeittomorrow,’
interruptedthedoctor.‘…we’llcomeback
tomorrow.Anythingatall.’Theywentbacktothe
commandcentreandhadseveraldrinksandasmoke.‘Hehasababy.Amazing,’
saidVagueHenri.
‘Doyouthinkhe’llbeallright?’‘Yeah.Itallgotabittoo
much,that’sall.’Buthewasnotallright.
Certainlyherecoveredinamannerofspeaking,buthewasshook,astheIrishsay.Andoverthenextfewdaysheremainedshook,alwaysaslighttremblingandthestanceofsomeonewho’djusttakenablow,an
overwhelmedlook,adazedlook.Duringabriefvisitthenextdaythetwoofthem,puzzledbecauseitdidn’tseemtomakesensethathemightbeworse,begantorealizethattheymightbewrong:theirexperienceofsufferingintheirlives(brutality,death,violence)mighthavebeenunusuallyintensebutitwasnotnecessarilybroad.Ontheway
totalktothedoctor,theotherunfortunatesubjectsurroundingKleist’sreturninvolvedtheminabitterdiscussion:VagueHenri,untilKleistmentioneditinpassing,hadnoideathathe’dcometotheSanctuarydraggingArbellMaterazziwithhim.‘You’reabloodyidiot.’‘Yes.’‘Andnow?’
Caledidn’tsayanything.‘Thiscouldstirupalotof
thosesnakesyou’realwaysgoingonabout.’‘Idon’tthinkso.Nobody
lovesus–butnobodyloveshereither.TheMaterazziarenothing–justanuisance.’Theywalkedoninsilence
forawhile.‘WhatdoesIdrisPukkesay
aboutit?’‘IdrisPukkedoesn’tknow
andhedoesn’twanttoknow.’‘Andyou’resureofthis
because…?’‘Hetoldme.’‘Sowhatareyougoingto
dowithher?’‘Letherpoachdelicatelyin
herownjuices.’Infact,hediscoveredthat
keepingArbellinternednearbybutnothavingtoseehergavehimacertainease.
Hehadcontrolofakindhe’dlost:heknewexactlywhereshewas.Thatwassomethingelseaboutpowerhe’dnoticed,somethinggoodthistime:itwaslikedrinking–itmadetheworldglow.AtdinnerwithVagueHenrithatnighthewasunusuallysilent.AfterhalfanhourwithoutspeakinghelookedatVagueHenriandaskedcasually,‘DoyouthinkI’mmad?’
‘Yes,’saidVagueHenri.Butitwasanoddquestionoddlyaskedandhewasspooked.
WitheverydaythattheAxisstoodoutsidetheSanctuarygawpingatthewallsCale’spowerwasslippingaway.Increasingly,theonlyoptionwastodispersethearmy,leavingarumptokeeptheRedeemersfromgettingout.
ButthenalltheRedeemershadtodowaswaitfortheforcesinthewesttocounter-attackandliftthesiegethefollowingyear,oreventhenext.ThenitcouldberesuppliedandusedasabasetomoveagainsttheAxis.TheHansewerealreadycomplainingaboutthecostoftheirmostlyHessianmercenaries,theLaconicscouldn’tbetrustedandnow
newreligioussquabbleshadbrokenoutonallsides.CaleknewthattheRedeemershadtheresourcestoregroupandthatBoscowouldbeputtingallhisenergyintobuyingthemeanstocopyHooke’shandguns.Ifhesucceeded,Cale’sgreatestadvantagewouldbelost.Tomakethingsworse,thepoisonousbutincomprehensiblereligiousdifferencesthathad
causedthetenchurchesofSwitzerlandtosplitfromoneanotherwerere-emergingnowthatthethreatfromtheRedeemerswasfading.PreventingthesereligiousschismsfrominfectingtheunityoftheNewModelArmywasanincreasingheadache.CaleneededtokillthewarquicklyandthatmeanttakingtheSanctuary.ButtheSanctuarydidn’twant
tobetaken.Hewassuretheremustbe
awaybecausetherewasalwaysaway.UnderBosco’sbrutaldisciplinehe’dbeenforcedtostandforhoursinfrontofmapsandaflatboardlitteredwithbitsofwoodtosignifytroopsandtownsandriversandimpossibleoddsandmadetoworkawayoutofintractableproblems.Ifhedidn’t,hetookabeating.If
hetooktoolonghetookabeating.Sometimesheeventookabeatingwhenhegotitright.‘Toteachyouthemostimportantlessonofall,’saidBosco.Whenheaskedwhatitwas,Boscobeathimagain.‘PerhapsifIhityouacoupleoftimes?’offeredVagueHenri.Caledecidedinsteadthattheyshouldwalkaroundtheproblem.Thesedayshissafetymeanthavingpeople
aroundhimallthetime,somethinghehated,sotakingaheftyguardwiththemtheywentforaridearoundthewallsoftheSanctuary,makingsuretostaywellback.He’dstopandlook,stopandlook.Therewasasolution.Therewasalwaysasolution.HefounditintheLittleBrother.‘Nowyoupointitout,’
saidVagueHenri,‘it’s
obvious.’Anditwas.ItwassoobviousthatitwascleartheSanctuarymustfall.Nothingcouldstopit.Intwomonthsthey’dbeinsidethewalls.Thenextdayhegathered
theconsiderablenumberofinterestedparties,theirmutualhostilitygrowingevermoreirksome,andtookthemthroughhisplan.First,notwithanygreatskill,hedrew
theoutlineoftheflat-toppedmountainonwhichtheSanctuarywasbuilt.Hisdrawingdidn’thavetobeuptomuchfortheassemblytorecognizewhatitwas:itsshapehauntedtheirdreams.‘Something’smissing’said
Cale.‘Anyoffers?’‘TheSanctuary.’‘Yes.Butnotthat.
Somethingelse.’Silence.Calewentbackto
thedrawingandaddedanoutcropofrockaboutfiftyfeethigherthanthetable-topmountainandwithaslopeonitsfarside,butwithagapofabouteightyyardsbetweentheoutcropandthemountainproper.‘ThisridgeiscalledtheLittleBrother.ThisgapbetweenitandthewallsoftheSanctuary–we’regoingtofillitin.’Hedrewalinebetweenthetwo,endingat
theverytopoftheSanctuarywall.Doroomsgasp?Thisone
did.AsVagueHenrihadsaid,onceitwaspointedoutitwasobvious.‘Thegap’senormous.It’ll
takeyears,’saidsomeone.‘It’lltakeamonth,’said
Cale.‘I’vehadMrHookedothecalculations.’‘ThatwouldbetheMr
Hookewhokilledeightofmy
menwithhisexplodingpileofcrap?’‘WithoutHooke,’said
Cale,‘mostofthepeopleinthisroomwouldberottingquietlyintheMississippimud.Soshutyourgob.’HethenwentintodetailaboutHooke’scalculation–thevolumeofbarrowsofearthandthenumberofmentheyhadtodeliverthem.‘Theirarchers’llpickusoff
bythehundred.’‘We’llbuilddefensive
roofsforthemtoworkunder.’‘They’llbeheavingrocks
overthewallstoo–they’llhavetobebloodystrongroofs.’‘Ifyou’retellingme
soldierswilldie,yes,theywill.ButwecanworkfromthetopoftheLittleBrotheraswellifweneedto.Inthe
endit’sjustfillingahole.Whenit’sdone,they’refinished.’LaterOrmsby-Goreand
Fanshawediscussedtheday’sevents.‘Mymenaresoldiers,not
bloodynavvies.’‘Don’tbesuchabore,
darling,’saidFanshawe.‘Ifeelasifallmybirthdayshavecometogether.Hereallyisacleveroldthing.Pityhe’s
gottogo.’
Thetroublewithnay-sayingdoom-mongersisthatthey’reboundtoberighteventually.Nomatterwhatgreatenterpriseyousetouton,thingswillalwaysgowrong.SoitwaswiththeattempttofillinthegapbetweentheLittleBrotherandtheSanctuary.Thepredictedrainofarrowscouldbeprotected
againstwithcoveredwalkwaysbutthesecouldbeeasilysmashedwithrocksthatweremuchheavierthanexpectedbecausetheRedeemers,oncetheysawwhatwasintended,hadcomeupwithaslingdevice,basedonthetrebuchet,thatcouldheaverocksweighingseveraltonstwohundredfeetfromthewalls.NothingtheAxiscouldbuildwouldsustainthat
kindofweightfallingfromsuchaheight.Noone,ofcourse,wasfoolishenoughtosay‘Itoldyouso’toCale’sfacebutifwordswerefogitwouldhavebeendifficulttofindyourwayaroundthecamp.Theproblemwassolvedin
afewdaysandmerelyinvolvedmoreeffort.BarrelsofrocksandstoneswerehauledtothetopoftheLittle
Brotherandheavedovertheedge.Itwasasweaty,arm-bending,sinew-stretchingcursebutitworked.BythetimeHookedevisedarailonwhichwagonscouldbepulledupthehillusingcounterweightsitdidn’tevenspeedthemupmuch.Daybyday,daybyday,thegapwasfilled.Evenifitwasslow,everymemberofthefractiousAxiscouldseeprogressand
alsotheinevitableresultofwherethatprogresswasleading.Thepromiseofsuccessbroughtharmonyofasort.TheSwissbecamemorepatientandputtheirplansforimpeachmentandaquickevacuationbackuntilaftertheSanctuaryhadfallen.EventheLaconicsstartedpretendingtotreattheiralliesasequals:FanshawewantedtheSanctuarytakenandwith
ittheopportunitytopasteCalewithnoquestionsasked.EverynightCalewould
walkovertothecompoundwherehewaskeepingArbell.Attimesthetemptationtogoinwasalmostunbearablebuthisdreamsaboutherkepthimout.Theytookplaceinanynumberofdifferentplaceshedidn’trecognize(Why?hethought.WhynotplacesthatIknow?)butitwasalwayshim
hangingabout,skulkinglikethelunaticdraperinthemadwardatthePriory,who’dbeenleftstandingatthealtarbythewomanheadoredandwhospentthedaysweepingandaskingeveryoneifthey’dseenher.ButtheoneconstantinCale’sdreamswasthelookonherfacewhen,heartfullofdreadfulhope,hewalkeduptoher.Thelookshegavehimwasbadenoughinhisdreams
withoutseeingitinreality.Sohewatchedthewarmlightinsidethetentandtheshadowslengtheningandcontractingasshemovedabout–thoughheknewitmightjustbethemaidsseeingtotheboyorcombingherhair.Hetriedtostophimselfgoingtowatch,ofcourse,andsometimessucceededbutpatheticallyrarely.
Hehadbecomeveryusedindeedtothecomfortandsolitudeofhiscomfortablewagon,nowoccupiedbyKleistandhisfamily,andtoreplaceithadputseveraldozenexpertcarpentersandformerupholsterersturnedsoldiers,whowouldhavebeenbetteremployedonthesiege,tocreatesomethingevenmoresumptuous.Kleistwasacausefor
worry.Hewasatoncehappybeyondwordsatthereturntolifeofhiswifeandchildandalsoshatteredbythecrueltiesthatprecededit.Theswayoftheonecouldnotaffecttheweightoftheother.‘What’swrongwithhim?’Thedoctorshrugged,asif
toindicatethatitwasobvious.‘Hewasbroughtupinthisawfulplace.’‘Sowerethetwoofus,’
saidVagueHenri.‘Giveittime,’saidthe
doctor.Therewasadifficultsilence.‘I’msorry,Imisspoke.Ididn’tmean…um…tobeundulyalarmist.’Butheverynearlydidmeanit,hejustdidn’tmeantoexpresshimselfsobluntly.‘Outofthecrookedtimberofhumanitynostraightthingwasevermade’washisphilosophy;ifyoubenta
saplingoutofshapewhileitwasyoungitwasobviousitwouldgrowupevenmoredeformed.Pleasedashewaswithhiswoodymetaphorshewaswiseenoughtoprunethisoneback.‘WhatIwas…drivingatwasthatobviouslypeopleareaffectedbytheirpastbutit’sjustasimportanttorecognizethateventhesamephysicaldiseasesaffectdifferentpeopledifferently–
sohowmuchmoresowithmentaldiseases.’Thetwoboysjuststaredathim.‘Imean,eventhestrongestpeoplementallycanonlytakesomanyshocks–MrKleisthadtheshockofbeingbroughtupinthisplace,thenthedelightfulshock,butstillashock,offallinginloveandmarryingandbecomingafather.Thentheshockofdiscoveringthemmurdered
andburnttoashes.Thenthetortureyoutoldmeaboutandbeingtakentotheedgeofdeathitselfinthemostpainfulandrevoltingway.’‘Butnowhehasthem
back,’saidVagueHenri,desperateforKleisttobewell.‘Butitwasjustanother
shock–doyousee?’‘No,Idon’tsee,’said
VagueHenri.‘Iwasbrought
uphereaswell.IwasinthecellswithhimatKittytheHare’splace.Allright,Ididn’tloseawifeandchildbut…’Butwhat?Hecouldn’tthinkofanobjection–lookatwhathadhappened,eventoCale.Thedoctorwasgoingto
suggestthatVagueHenritriedinfuturetoliveamoretranquillife,justincase;buthehadthesensetokeepitto
himselfthistime.‘Whatshouldwedoabout
Kleist?’askedCale.‘Heneedscalm.Gethim
awayfromhereforonethingandtosomewherefreefromanystrainordisharmony.’Calesmiled.‘IfIknew
somewherelikethat,I’dgomyself.’‘Thatwouldprobablybea
goodidea,’saidthedoctor,unabletohelphimself.
‘Thatshit-bagBoseIkardandhispalsareouttogetus,’saidCaletoKleistandDaisy.‘It’stimethatsomeofusweren’there.’Neitherofthem,wary,said
anything.‘Peoplearealwaysoutto
getyou,aren’tthey?’saidDaisy.‘Oh,indeedtheyare,Mrs
Kleist.ButtheSwissaresittingonallourmoney.We
wantKleisttotakeasmuchashecancarryandputitbeyondreach–setupsomewherewecanretiretowhentheballoongoesup.’Theballoon,orbalon,wasaredflagusedbytheRedeemerstosignalthatanattackwasimminent.‘Where?’saidKleist.‘Wewerethinking
somewhereoverthesea.TheHanseisprettywelcomingto
thewealthy.AndRibaowesus.’‘Doessheknowthat?’
askedDaisy.‘Myhusbandtoldmewhenyouwereinthedeserthesuggestedyoushouldleaveherthere.’‘She’sright,hedid,’said
VagueHenri.‘Butwenevertoldher
that,’saidCale.‘Besides,Ribawasthecauseofeverything.Sheknowsshelet
usdownaboutKittysothisisherchancetomakeitup.’‘WhynotsendVague
Henri?’saidKleist.‘Shewon’tmindhelpinghim.’‘I’vegottostayhere.’‘Yes?’saidKleist.‘Why?’Therewasn’ttheslightest
hesitation.‘Thenightbeforewemake
theassaultontheSanctuaryI’mgoingtogoinheavy-handedtotakethequarters
wherethegirlsarebeingheld.Soyou’rereallytheonlypersonwhocandoit.Besides,you’retheonlyoneofuswithawifeandfamily.’Soitwassettled.Kleist
wouldreturntoSpanishLeedsandwithCadbury’shelp–Cadburywasverykeenalsotogetsomeofhismoneyoutofharm’sway–he’dgetoutofSwitzerlandwithalltheirmoneyandas
muchastheycouldselloffinthemeantime.‘Youwereabitharshon
Riba,’saidVagueHenri,whenKleistandDaisyhadleft.‘I’llsqueezeRibadryifI
haveto–anditstillwouldn’tbeenough.’Therewasabad-tempered
silence.ItwasCalewhodecidedtomakethingsup.‘Thatwasprettyquick
thinkingwhenheaskedwhyyouweren’tgoing.’‘No,itwasn’t.’‘What?’‘No,itwasn’tquick
thinking,’saidVagueHenri.‘That’swhatI’mgoingtodo.’‘Don’tbebloodystupid.
Heprobablykilledthemmonthsago,yearseven.’‘Idon’tthinkso.’‘Basedon?’
‘BasedonIdon’tthinkso.’‘No.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’‘Noisn’tclearenough?’‘I’mnotaskingyour
permission.’‘Look,Imayhavegone
alongwithsomehalf-witnotionofyoursthatwe’reequals–nobodyelsethinksthat.You’lldoasyou’rebloodywelltold.’‘No,Iwon’t.’
‘Yes,youwill.’‘No,Iwon’t.’Thisbickeringwentonfor
sometime.TherewerethreatsfromCaletohavehimarresteduntilthesiegewasoverandinvitationsfromVagueHenritoshovehisthreatsuphisarse.ButwhatbrokethedeadlockwasanappealtoCale’sheart,peculiarobjectthatitwas.‘Annunziata,thegirlItold
youabout–Iloveher.’Thiswasnottrue.Hecareddeeplyabouther,morethantheothergirlsalthoughhecareddeeplyaboutthemtoo.Whythedesiretosavethemwassointensehecouldnotsay.Butthereitwas.HehadbetterinsightintoCale’ssoulthanhisown.Everyonehasasentimentalspotforsomething,even,orespecially,thewicked.Itwas
saidthatAloisHuttlerfoundithardnottoweepwhenhesawapuppyandthathekeptapaintinginhisbedroomofalittlegirlfeedingalambmilkthroughahorn.Atanyrate,Calecouldhardlydenythepoweroflove,givenitsholdonhisownsoul.Itwas,afterall,thesourceofmuchofhisself-pitythathehadriskedhislifesomadlytosaveArbell.
TwodayslaterKleistandDaisywerelinedupintheirheavilyguardedtrain,withCaleandVagueHenritheretoseethemoff.‘What’stostopmelepping
offwiththemoney?’saidKleist,handsshakinglikeanoldman.‘Because,’saidCale,‘you
cantrustus.’‘Trustyou?’saidKleist,
‘Oh,right.Trustyou.’
‘Whatareyoutalkingabout?’saidDaisy.‘Idon’tunderstand.’‘Tellyoulater.’‘I’vewrittentoRiba,’said
VagueHenri.‘She’llbeallright.’‘Andifsheisn’t?’‘MrsKleistseemstohave
herheadscrewedon.You’vegotmoney–you’llworksomethingout.’‘Thanks,’saidKleist,and
seemedtomeansomethingparticularbyit,butCalewasn’tsurewhat.Heshrugged,awkward.Holdingthelittlegirl,
Daisykissedbothofthemonthecheekbutsaidnothing.ThenCaleandVagueHenriwatchedthemleave,astrangelydesolateexperienceforthemboth.
36
Overthenexttwoweekstheman-maderidgefromtheLittleBrotherloomedtowardsthetopoftheSanctuarywallswhileVagueHenripractisedclimbinginthedarkwithhishundred
volunteers.Onemandiedonthefirstnight,screamingashefell,anoisyaccidentthatwouldhavehadthelotofthemkilledifithadbeentherealthing.Aclimbofthistypewouldonlybepossiblewiththerightkindofhalf-moon–iftheycouldseetooeasilythentheycouldbeseentooeasily.Luckilytherightphasewasexpectedatthesametimeascompletionof
theramp.ItwasdecidedtoclimbinsmallgroupsoftenfurtheraroundthesideoftheSanctuarywheretheclimberswouldbemostlyobscuredfromanywatchingguards.They’dcollectonthemountainjustbelowthewallsandthenmoveupasitbecamedark;oneofArtemisia’salpineclimberscouldtakealinetothetopandpulluparopeladder
designedbyHooke.‘It’sthestupidestbloody
thingI’veeverseen,’saidCale.‘Mindyourownbeeswax,’
repliedVagueHenri.Astherampcamecloser
thebuildersbecamemorevulnerableonceagaintothearrows,bolts,rocksandbouldersthrownatthembytheRedeemers–anassaultashideousasitwasdesperate.
Theyslowedtheprogressbutitwasnotenough,astheRedeemersmusthaveknown.Then,twentyfeetfromthewalls,constructionstopped.TocompleteitwouldhaveallowedtheRedeemerstoattackacrossitthemselves.Hookehadprovidedawoodenbridgeaffair,coveredinontheroofandatthesidesandaboutfortyfeetlong.WhenCaledecidedtoattack,
thebridgewouldbepushedalongtheramptoclosethegap,likeaplankgoingoverariver.Itwaswideenoughtotakeeightsoldiersshouldertoshoulder.Hookehadalsoprovidedanunpleasantwayofclearingawayanyoneinfrontofthebridge,avariationonGreekfire.Hehadbuiltseveralgreatpumpstosprayalargeareainfrontoftheemergingsoldiers,which
wouldcovereveryRedeemerwithinfiftyyardsinaliquidfire.‘Godforgiveme,’said
Hooke.‘Justrememberthey’d
happilydothesametoyou–theywould’vedoneitalreadyifIhadn’tsavedyourskin.’‘That’ssupposedtomake
mefeelbetter,thatI’mnoworsethantheyare?’‘Suityourself.Idon’t
reallycare.’Thelastfewdaysbefore
theattackovertheridgepassedatafeverishspeed,anunpleasantsensationforCaleandVagueHenri,asiftheywererushingtowardssomethingoutoftheircontrol.Nowthatitwascoming,whattheyweredoingseemedunbelievabletothem.Theyweregoingbacktotheplacetheyhatedmost
inalltheworldandyetwhichhadmadethem;andtheyweregoingtocleanitout.Twodaysawayandtheywerepin-eyedwithagitation–butalsoself-possessedandstill.IdrisPukke,whohad
returnedtowitnessthetakingoftheSanctuary,wasmadeuneasybythetwoboys,thoughtenseenoughhimself.‘Theywereliketheold
adage,’hesaidlatertoVipond.‘Thosehousesthatarehauntedaremoststill–tillthedevilbeup.’Ifthere’dbeenany
moistureintheairyouwouldhavesaidtherewasastormcoming.Atnightthegrasshoppersstoppedtheirusualthrobbingracket.Thereseemedtobefewersand-fliestryingtogetatthemoistureinthesoldiers’mouths.
Peoplewiththeluxuryoflivingquietliveslookdownonmelodrama,onsensationalaction,onexaggeratedeventsintendedtoappealtocoarseremotionsthantheirown.Thelifetheylead,theythink,isreal:theday-to-dayordinaryishowthingstrulyare.Butit’splaintoanyonewithanysensethatformostofus,life,ifit’slikeanythingatall,islikeapantomimewherethe
bloodandsufferingisreal,anoperawherethesingerssingoutoftune,wailingaboutpainandloveanddeathwhiletheaudiencethrowstonesinsteadofrottenfruit.Delicacyandsubtletyarethefantasticalgreatescape.
ItwaslateafternoonwhenVagueHenricametoseeCalebeforehestartedtheclimbuptotheSanctuary
walls.‘Can’tbelieve,’hesaid,
‘I’mtryingtobreakbackintothatshithole.’Calelookedathim.‘Iwantedtorunyour
funeralarrangementsbyyou.’‘Oh,yeah?’‘Ithoughtwe’dwrapyou
upinadogblanketanddumpyououtofthecrapperintheWestWall.IfIcangetabandtogetherwe’llplay“I’veGot
aLuverlyBunchofCoconuts”.You’lllikethat.’‘You’renot,’saidVague
Henri,‘averyniceperson.’‘I’mtellingyounottogo
onwiththisbloodybollockingbollocks,aren’tI?Thosegirlsaredeadandifyougoupthereyou’llbeasdeadasthem.’‘I’mtouchedthatyou
care.’‘Idon’tcare.Don’tthink
it.Ijustfeelsorryforyou,that’swhyI’veputupwithyouallthistime.’‘IfIdon’tgoIwon’tbe
abletosleepatnight.That’sthehonesttruth.I’mafraidnottogo.’‘You’llgetusedtoit.You
cangetusedtoanything.Andthereareworsethingsthannotbeingabletosleep.’‘Can’tstopnow–it’dlook
bad.’
‘I’llhaveyouarrested.’Itwasn’tathreatbutaplea.‘No.Don’tdothat.IfI
foundouttheywerealiveI’dhateyou.’‘Why?’‘Ijustwould.’VagueHenri
smiled.‘Giveusakiss.’‘No.’‘Yourhandthen.’‘Whatifit’scatching,what
you’vegot?’‘Notyou.You’llbeall
right.’‘Butyouwon’t.’Hewas
angrynowthathecouldseepersuasionwouldn’twork.‘You’restillaRedeemer,that’sit.’‘What?’‘Oh,you’renotafucking
swine,notyou,butyoucan’twaittosacrificeyourselfforsomething.Itallwentintoyourhead,allthatcamel-shitabout…’Hestopped,unable
tofindthewords.‘You’rejustanothermartyr–anddon’tworryI’vegotamartyr’sfuneralreadyforyou–we’llsing“FaithofOurFathers”…Wewillbetruetothee’tildeath…Rememberthatbollocks?Doyouwantitbeforeorafterthecoconutsong?’‘Youhavebeenpractising
that,haven’tyou?’‘Justgo–Ican’tbe
botheredwithyouanymore.’‘I’llbeallright.Icanfeel
it.’‘Yes?Fine.Goaway.’‘Ithinkyou’dcomewith
meifyoucould.’‘No,Iwouldn’t.’‘Yousayitbecauseyou
havetosayit,beingyou.’‘Thatisn’tit.Allthings
beingequal,andifitdidn’tinvolveaterriblerisktomyownlife,thenyes,I’dhelp
you.Iliketoseegooddeedsdone,Ido,butyourpriceistoohigh.IcanseeI’madisappointmenttoyou–butthehonesttruthisthatI’dratherlivethanseejusticedone.’VagueHenrishruggedand
wentofftoclimbbackintotheSanctuary.
CalehadfeltexhaustedbeforeVagueHenricameto
saywhateveritwashe’dcometosay.Nowhefeltasifhe’dbeenwrungout.Afterhe’dtakenthePhedraandMorphinetodealwithKittytheHarehetookSisterWray’sadvicenottouseitmuchmoreseriously.Hefeltsometimesasifhewassoweakthathemightjuststopbreathing.Whentheywereyounger,VagueHenrihadheardfromoneofthe
Redeemersthatasuddenloudnoisecouldkillalocust.Theytried,dozensoftimes,butitneverworked.Nowhefeltasifasuddenloudnoisecouldseehimoffquiteeasily.Allthemorereason,then,tostayawayfromthePhedraandMorphine.Butheknewhecouldn’tgetthroughthenexttwenty-fourhourswithoutit.Justoncemore,hethought.WipetheSanctuarycleanand
thenofftotheHansewithalltheswagandthenit’scucumbersandwichesandcakeforeverandever.Hehadacoupleofhours’
sleep,thoughhisguardhadtowakehim,andthentookexactlythedoseofthedrugthatSisterWrayhadinstructed.Bynowherealizedshehadn’tbeenexaggeratingaboutitspoisonsbuildingup–every
weeknow,sometimesforhalfanhouratatime,hehadthesensethatsomeonewasfryingsomethinginhishead.Halfanhourlaterhewas
standingontopoftheLittleBrotherasHookefinishedpreparinghishugewoodentunnelforitsfinalmoveontothewallsoftheSanctuary.ThepeakoftheLittleBrotherhadbeenbuiltupbyfortyfeet,sothatthetunnelcould
bepusheddownhilltothegapbetweentheinfillandthewallsthatthetunnelwouldbridge,allowingNewModelArmytroopstospreadoutquicklyandinlargenumbers.TherewasnohidingtheplanfromtheRedeemerssonoguessworkwasneededtoseethattheywoulddoeverythingtostoptheattackwhereitbegan.Establishingthatbridgeheadwasgoingtobea
murderousbusiness.Itwastheattackers’onlyweakpoint–somethingthatwouldn’tbelostonBosco.Theassaultbeganassoon
asitbecamelightinordertogivethemallthedaylightpossible.Caleexpectedadisasterofsomekindbut,thoughtherewereathousanddecisionstobemade,therewerenoearthquakesorsuddenplagues,no
mysteriousparhelionstodisturbthesuperstitious.Therewasonlymountingdreadatwhatwascoming.Atjustbeforefive,Hooke
cametotellhimtheywereready.CalewalkedupthelastfewfeettothetopoftheLittleBrotherandlookedacrosstotheSanctuary.Hisheartbeatfaster,hisheadfeltasifitwereburstingashelookedoutoverhisformer
home,seeingthestillshadowyplaceswherehehadspentsomanythousandsofdaysinfearanddreadandmisery.Somuchcold,somuchhunger,somuchloneliness.Hestaredforalongtime.Suchashatteringmomentcalledforagreatshout.ButsomethingcaughthiseyeinsidetheSanctuary,totheright.Itwasthequarterwherethegirlswerekept.
Fromitsfurthestedgeaspiderylineofsmokewaftedgentlyintotheair.HegavetheslightestofnodstoHookeanditbegan.‘Ready!’calledoutoneof
thecentenars.‘Set!’‘Go!’Ahugecryof
HEAVE!wentup.Theenormousstructureshookbutdidn’tmove.HEAVE!Againitshookbutagainnothing.
HEAVE!Thistimeitshiftedafewinches.HEAVE!Nowafoot.HEAVE!Nowtwo.Nowproperlyontothereinforcedslopethetunnelwentwiththepulloftheearth.Buttheworrywasaboutstabilitynotspeed.Menrushedbackandforthbetweenthefrontandsidesofthetunnel,callingtoeachotherandtoHooke,lookingfortherubbletogivewayand
letthetunneldiginorsomeotherdisastertheyhadn’tthoughtof.Acoupleoftimestheyhadtostopandlevers,thirty-footlongandbythedozen,werebroughttoliftthestructurewhereithadcutintothestillloosesoil.Buttherewasnoattackfromthewalls.Calewouldhavebeenpouringeverythinghecouldontotheheadsoftheattackers.Andallthetime,
oneaftertheother,fireswerestartedalongtheedgesoftheghettowherethegirlswerekept.
‘WherearetheRedeemers?’askedFanshaweastheyheadedintothehutwheretheykeptthemapsoftheSanctuary.InsidewerehalfadozenofficersfromtheNewModelArmyandthreeLaconics,ledbyOrmsby-
Gore.IdrisPukkewasalsothere.‘Idon’tknow,butthey
won’tbedoinganythingpleasant,I’msureofthat.’Hedecidedtochangehisplan.‘Iwantfivehundredofyourmentogoinrightafterthefirstrush.’Fanshawelookedoverat
Ormsby-Gore.‘Allrightwithyou?’‘Thatisn’twhatwas
agreed,’saidOrmsby-Gore.Inaformalsensethere
werenosoldierslesscowardlythantheLaconics.Butinpracticaltermsitwasasiftheywereratherchinless.Theproblemwasthatittooksomucheffortandtimeandmoneytoengineeroneofthesehideouskillingmachines,andthereweresofewofthem,thatthoughtheywerehappyto
die,theyweren’tallthatwillingtofight.Eachoneofthesemonsterswasasvaluableasararevase.Cale,madeevenmorebad-
temperedthanusualbythedrugsandwhatmightbehappeningtoVagueHenri,lookedOrmsby-Goredirectlyintheeyes,notawisethingtodounderthebestofcircumstances.‘Therearenoagreementshere,’saidCale.
‘YoudoasIsayorelseI’llcutyourbloodyheadoffandkickitdownthemountain.’Therearepeopleyoucan
saythiskindofthingtoandpeopleyoucan’t.Laconicsingeneral,andOrmsby-Goreinparticular,belongedtothecategoryofpeopleyoucan’t.ThelastsyllableofthelastwordwasbarelyoutofCale’smouthwhenOrmsby-Gore,exaltedamonganalready
37
OrwouldhavedoneifithadbeenanyoneotherthanThomasCalewhowasmadewildlyhyperactivebyadrugthathadafairchanceofkillinghimatsometimeinthenexttwenty-fourhours.
ThespeedandpoweroftheblowwasOrmsby-Gore’sundoing.Missinghischestbyafraction,Calespunhisattackerround,pulledhimincloseandhadhisownknifeathisthroat.Theonlookersmighthavebeenastonishedbythespeedofwhathadjusthappenedbutwhatheldtheminabsolutesilencewasthebarkingmadexpressionintheboy’seyes.
EvenIdrisPukkeremainedsilent,fearingthatanymovementorsoundwouldsetCaleoff.Fromoutsidetherewassilenceforthefirsttimeinhours.Howlongasecondiswhenlifeordeathisintheroom.ThencameanenormousSNAP!fromoutside,followedbyacrashandthecryofafuriousengineer.‘Thefuckingfuckers
fuckingfucked!’Nooneinthetentsaid
anythingandnoonemoved.ExceptCale.Unabletocontainhimselfattheheart-rendingexasperationoftheengineerhestartedlaughing–notthemadhystericalgiggleofthefrenziedlunaticbuttheordinarylaughterofsomeonestruckbytheabsurdityofwhatwashappening.Fanshawetookhischance.
‘I’mjustgoingtotakeawayOrmsby-Gore’sknife,’hesaidsoftly,holdingupbothofhishands.‘Youunderstandthat,mydearfellow,don’tyou?’Ormsby-GorestaredatFanshaweinamannerthatindicatedhedidnotunderstandinanywaywhatsoever.Thetroublewithpeoplewhoarenotafraidofdeath,thoughtFanshawe,isthatthey’renotafraidof
death.Sohemustfindsomethingelse.‘Thethingis,darling’he
said,‘ifyoudon’tdroptheknifeIwill,withThomasCale’spermission,takeoutmyownandthenI’llcutyourbloodyheadoffandkickitdownthemountainmyself.’ForOrmsby-Gorethiswas
quiteadifferentmatter:tobeexecutedonthefieldofbattlefordisobeyinganorder
wouldmeanunforgivabledisgraceandunendinginfamyforhimandhisfamily.Hedroppedtheknifealmostasquicklyashe’ddrawnit.‘MayI?’askedFanshawe,
takingbothOrmsby-Gore’shandsinhisowntoreassureCalethathehadhimundercontrol.CalelethimgoandFanshaweeasedOrmsby-Goretoasteadyposition,movedhimoutsideand
quietlyhadhimarrestedandtakenawaybyfourofhisownmen.Hewentbackintothetent.‘MightIsuggestthathebe
dealtwithinwhateverwayyouchooseaftertheSanctuaryhasfallen?Itwouldbeapitytodistractthetroops,don’tyouthink?’Fanshawedidn’tliketothinkhowtheLaconicsoldiersortheEphorsathomewould
reacttotheexecutionofOrmsby-GorebuthecheerfullyexpectedthatCalewouldbedeadbeforeitbecameanissue.Caledidn’tsayanything,
givingbarelyanodtosignalhisagreement,thenwentoutsidetofindoutwhathadcausedthesnappingsoundandtheengineer’slament.AlargecontainerfullofgelatinousGreekfirehad
beenbroughtuptobeloadedintothetunnelforthefinalpushtotheSanctuarywalls.Itwasvolatilestuffanddidn’ttaketotoomuchshakingabout.Unfortunatelyithadfallenoffarailonthetopoftheembankment.Theyhadtriedtoeasethecontainerbackontotherailusinganoaklever.Thesnapwasthesoundoftheleverbreaking.Thecontainerrollingdown
thehillandsmashingagainstapileofrockswaswhatoccasionedtheheartbrokenoathfromtheengineer.Hooke,nowusedtothe
differencebetweenabattlefieldandachemicalworkshop,hadalreadycalledupareplacement,whichneededonlyafewminutes’workbeforeitwasmovingquicklytowardsthetunnel.‘Areyouwell?’saidIdris
Pukke,whohadfollowedhimout.‘Itwon’thappenagain,’
Calereplied.‘Probably.Youmightwanttoletpeopleknowitmightbebestnottodisagreewithmeforafewdays.’‘I’mnotsurethatwillbe
necessary.’Itwasn’tclearCalehad
heard.‘I’vemissedsomething–
I’vemissedsomethingimportant.’‘Whatdoyoumean?’
IdrisPukkewasalarmed–likeeveryoneelsehesawthefalloftheSanctuaryasinevitablehowevercostly.‘Whyaren’tthey
attacking?Theyshouldbeattackingnow.BoscoknowssomethingthatIdon’t.’‘Thenstop.’‘No.’
‘Why?’ButitwasaquestiontowhichIdrisPukkeknewtheanswer.‘YoutoldVagueHenrinottogo.Itoldhimnottogomyself,forwhatit’sworth.’Calelookedathim.‘Ifwe
don’tgosoonthey’lltakehimprisoner.Doyouknowwhatthey’lldotohim?’‘Icanguess.’‘I’msureyoucan.ButI
don’thavetobecauseI’ve
seenit.Exceptthiswillbeworse.They’llburnhim.Inminimusvia.’Asergeantinterrupted
them.‘Sir,MrHookesaysthe
tunnelisreadytoload.’‘Waitamoment,Sergeant.’
HeturnedbacktoIdrisPukke.‘You’reaneducatedman–knowwhatitmeans?’‘It’snotfamiliar,no.’‘Itmeans“Inthesmallest
way”–itmeansthey’llburnhimonapileofsticksnotbigenoughtoboilacanofwater.I’veneverseenitmyself.Boscotoldmeaboutit.Hesaidittooktwelvehours.Sono,Ican’tstop.’‘Youdon’tknowfor
certainthat’swhathe’lldo.’‘Idon’tknowforcertain
thatBoscoknowssomethingIdon’t.Nobodyknowsanything.’
‘IfVagueHenriwereherewithus,you’dstop.’‘Butheisn’t.’‘Youknowthatifwedon’t
taketheSanctuarybeforewinterthenthey’llhavereinforcementsbeforewecancomeback.TherearemembersoftheAxisalreadyateachother’sthroats.TheSwisswantyourheadtobouncedownthestreet.Godknowswhatwillhappenif
youfailhere.’‘WhosaysI’llfail?’‘Youdo.’‘IsaidIdon’tknowwhat’s
goingon.’‘Thenwait.’‘AndifIdo?Supposenow
istherighttime.SupposeifIwaitI’vegiventhemthechanceto…Idon’tknowwhat…somethingIhaven’tthoughtof.WhatifBosco’sillandthisismybestchance?
Nobodyknowsanything.’‘Youknowwhatyou’ddo
ifHenriwashereandnotthere.’‘DoI?’‘Yes.’‘Ithoughtyouweregoing
totellpeoplenottoarguewithme?’‘Ididn’tthinkIwas
included.’‘Well,you’rewrong.’He
calledtothesergeant,‘Give
38
‘Iwantafavour,’saidCale.Fanshawebroughtupthe
fivehundredLaconicsCalehadaskedforandwastoldthey’dbesentinimmediatelyafterthefirstwaveoftheNewModelArmy.Notmany
wereexpectedtosurvive.‘Afavour?Ofcourse.
Probably.’‘Iwantahundredofyour
mentorelieveVagueHenriassoonasit’sclearwhat’sgoingon.’‘That’sabigfavour–it’sa
heftyrisk.’‘Yes.’Fanshawelookeddownat
themapoftheSanctuaryanditsinnerbuildings.
‘It’sabitofamazethere,oldboy.Gettinglostwouldbeeasyandcostly.Butifyouweretheretotaketheminandguidethem…’Calewasfairlysurethat
Fanshawehadbeenthinkinghardaboutwhathewasgoingtodoabouthim.Hedidn’tneedtothinkverycarefullyaboutthechancesofeitherhimorVagueHenriemergingalivefromthefogofbattle.
‘UnfortunatelyI’mneededhere–butI’vearrangedforthreeofmyPenitentswhoknowtheghettobetterthanIdototakeyoutoit.’Fanshaweconsidered
declining,notthathe’dexpectedCaletobestupidenoughtoagree,butitwouldlookbadtorefuse.IfthereweretobeanyquestionsaboutwhowasresponsibleforCale’stragicdeathat
sometimeduringthenexttwenty-fourhoursitwoulddonoharmtohavedemonstratedtotheNewModelArmythattheLaconicshadbeenrightbehindtheirleaderinariskyenterprisetosavehisclosestfriend.Fanshawewentofftomake
thearrangementsandCale,collectingIdrisPukkeontheway,wentbacktothesummit
oftheLittleBrotherandasmalltowerthathadbeenerectedontoptogivehimasclearaviewaswaspossible.Thenitbegan.Theropesholdingupthefrontofthetunnelwereloweredslowlyandittransformedintoamassiveridgetocoverthethirty-footgaptothetopoftheSanctuarywalls.Stilltherewasnothing.
Therewasapauseofa
minuteorso,aseriesofindistinguishableshoutsandthenthehandpumps,mannedbytwentysoldierstobuildthepressure,wereprimedtoburstingfortwominutes.Moreshouts.Apause.ThenthepumpswereletloosebyHookeandtheliquidinthecontainersburstoutofasetofeightbarrelslikethesprayfromtheworld’sgreatestfountain.Hookelittheeight
torchesunderneathandtherewasanexplosiveroarlikethecrackofdoomandthesprayignitedinavastarcofflames,coveringthewallsinfrontandahundredyardstoeitherside.Fortwentysecondsthishideousdevicedeafenedeveryonebehindit–thenHooke,frighteneditwouldexplode,turneditoff.Foraminutelongertheliquidburnedlikethelakeoffireat
thecentreofhellandthen,almostasifithadbeenblownout,itvanished.Therewasnodelay–theNewModelArmy,lowerlegsprotectedagainsttheheat–werethroughthetunnelandontothebridgeasquicklyastheycouldtotakeadvantageofthedevastationbeforetheRedeemerscouldrespond.‘YOU’LLBEFINE!IT’S
ALLGRAVYFROM
HERE!’‘GETYOUREYESON!
GETYOUREYESON!’‘VALLONTOTHE
EDGE!VALLON…YESSSS!TOTHEEDGE,YOUSHITHEAD!’‘OVERTHERE!OVER
THERE!LOOKWHEREYOU’REFUCKINGSTEPPING!’‘MURDERHOLE!
MURDERHOLE!’
‘HERE,BUDDY!HERE!’Buttherewerenobodies
horriblyburned.Therewerenosurvivorsofthefirereadytobeatthemback.Theshoutsstopped.Thentherewasnothingbutaterriblenoiselesssolitudeoneveryside.Thisonlyraisedthehorribletension,thesoldier’sterriblefearoftheunexpectedworst:whenandinwhatwaywouldtheblowcome?They
movedonpackedtogetheragainstthehideousfighttocome.‘SLOWLY!SLOWLY!EYESON!WATCHFORIT!WATCHFORIT!’Addingtotheirfearwas
theblacksmokefromtheGreekfire,whichcoveredeverythinginfrontoftheminathicksmog.Astheymovedforward,everyordinarythingassumedtheshadowy
obscurityofsomehideousthreat,onlytoberevealedasapileofbarrelsoraholystatueofferingblessingstothesaved.Soahaltwascalled.Twothousandmen,shouldertoshoulder,eventheLaconicswaitingbehindthemspookedandshakenattheterribleuncertaintyofsomethinghideoustocome.Veryslowly–itwasan
almostwindlessday–the
smokebegantopatchandsmudge,eachclearingspotseemingtorevealamenacethatnevercame.Thenasmallgustandthenaharderonewhirledandrevolvedthesmokeintobeautifulspinsandrolls.Thewindblewthroughclearlyandwhattheysawwasthedefiningvisionofthelivesmostofthemexpectedtolosethatday.Everywhere,fromeverypost,
everybattenineveryoneoftheroofedwalkways,fromwoodenframesdrivenintothecourtyardsintheirhundreds,everywheretheylookedwerethousandsofRedeemershangingbytheneck.
39
TheNewModelArmywaswellusedtoslaughterbynowandtheLaconicswere,ofcourse,asocietygivenupentirelytoitsrequirements.Butthiswasnotdeathastheyknewitandso,despitethe
factthatwhattheywereseeingmeantthattheywouldsurvivethedayandthatthismultitudeofhangedmenweretheirmostbitterenemies,amoodofcreepyuneasinesssettledonthemallastheymovedslowlythroughtheSanctuary.Eachnewprospect,eachsquare,eachcourtyard,eachcoveredpathway,eachprayergardencontainedonlyrowafterrow
ofthehangingdead.Theonlysoundwasofcreakingropes,theonlythingmovingtheslightdriftandswingofbodiesstirredbythelightwinds.Slowlytheymovedinside
thebuildingsoftheSanctuary;theycouldnotdootherwise.Ineverycorridor,atintervalsthreefootbroadandlong,Redeemershungbytheirnecksfromtheroofinto
whichsinglehookshadbeensetinconcrete.Ineveryroom.Ineveryoffice.Everyalcove.Everychapel.Inthesixgreatchurchestheremusthavebeenathousandeachonadozendifferentlevels,assilentasthedecorationssuspendedfromthetreeofmortalityontheDayoftheDead.TheordercametohaltandtheLaconicsandtheirPenitentguideheadedinto
therecessesoftheSanctuary,hamperedateverystepbythebodiestheysetswingingbackandforthastheymadetheirwaytotheghettoandVagueHenri.Againstthestrongest
advicetostayoutoftheSanctuaryuntilithadbeenthoroughlysearched(‘It’sobvious,sir,they’llhideandwaitforyoutocome.’)Calearrived,wide-eyedwithbleak
astonishment.Theywererightbuthecouldnotbeartowaitand,closelysurroundedbyPenitents(whatweretheythinking?),hemovedintotheoldspacesnowbizarrelytransformedintoapriestlyabattoir.Howoddlyhissoulreactedtobeingbackagain.ItwasnotlikereturningtoaformerhomebecauseherealizedthatsomethingaboutwhatSisterWrayhadsaid
wasright:hehadbeenhereinthepast,hewasherenow,hewouldalwaysbehere.ThePenitentskepthimin
anambulacrumwherethey’dclearedaspaceofhangedRedeemersandwherehewasoutofeveryone’slineofsight.WithinafewminutestheybroughthimaboythatoneoftheNewModelArmyhadfoundhidinginabox.‘Hemeansaconfessional,
sir,’saidaPenitent.‘Whatareyou?’asked
Cale.‘Anacolyte,sir.’‘SowasI.You’reallright,
don’tworry.Noone’sgoingtohurtyou.Whathappenedhere?’Itwasunderstandably
garbledstuffbutsimpleenough.Boscohadaddressedfivehundredofhisclosestfollowersandannouncedthat,
becauseofThomasCale’streachery,hehaddecidedtoremovethefaithfulfromtheearthandnevertothinkofmankindagain.AsarewardfortheirfidelitytheyweretobepermittedtojoinGodineternalblissbythesamemeansastheRedeemerhimself.‘Allofthemwentalong
withthis?’‘Notall,sir.ButthePope
createdagroupofcounsellorstoassistallthosewhoneededspiritualsupport.’‘Butnotyou.’‘Iwasafraid.’‘You’llbesafenow.’Cale
turnedtooneofthestaffsergeantsoftheNewModelArmy.‘Gethimawayfromhere.Gethimsomenewclothesandgetmycooktofeedhim.Makesurehe’ssafe.Why,forGod’ssake,
isn’tthereanynewsaboutHenri?’HesenttwomoreofhisPenitents.Fiveminuteslater,whenhehaddecidedtogohimself,dangerousasitwas,Fanshaweturneduplookinguneasy.‘What’sup?’saidCale.‘I’vehadsomenewsback
butit’stheusualmessofstuff.’‘Butyou’veheard
something?’
‘YouknowaswellasIdothefirstnewsisalwayshorse-shit.’‘Iunderstand.Whatisit?
Tellmewhatyou’veheard.’‘Haveityourownway.
Thenewsisthatyourfriendisdead.Ispoketosomeonewhosaidtheysawhim.’‘Didtheyknowhim?How
well?’‘He’dseenhimaroundand
about.Whohasn’t?Theplace
isaninfernoapparently–youknowwhatit’slike:nothingmakesanysenseatfirst.He’sprobablyheardthesamethingaboutyou.’Calecalledouttohis
Penitentsandwasheadingtotheghettowhen,fromanentranceblowinglightgreysmokeintothecourtyard,afigurewalkedout.Eventhoughthesmokeobscuredhimandhisfacewasblack,
thewayhemovedgavehimawayimmediately.ThenVagueHenrirecognizedCale–andalsothathewasstaringathiminapeculiarway.‘What?’hesaid,defensive.Calelookedhimoverfora
while.‘Therewasarumouryou
weredead.’Takenabackbythis,Henri
gavetheimpressionhewasconsideringhowreliableit
was.‘No,’hesaid,atlast.Calekeptlookingathim.‘Whathappened?’VagueHenrismiled.‘Nothingmuch.Wegotin
realneat.Weonlytookouthalfadozenonthewaytothegirls.NowIcanseewhy.’‘Theydidn’tattack?’‘No.’‘Whataboutthefires?’‘Wescaredtheshitoutof
thenuns.Oneofthemspiltapanofhotfat–theplacewentuplikeahay-rack–spreadunderthefloorboardsandeverything.That’swhythefireskeptbreakingoutallover.Gotabitscary.’‘Arethegirlsallright?’‘Fine.Allofthem.’He
laughed.‘Boscoputthemonhalfanacolyte’srations–thinasahairnow.’‘Ahare?’
‘Yeah–onyourhead.’‘Oh,Ithoughtyoumeant,
youknow,arabbitkindofhare.Doesn’tmakesense,arabbit,doesit?’‘No.’‘Iwonderwhyhedidn’t
killthem?’‘Isuppose,’saidVague
Henri,‘there’sgoodineveryone.’Theybothsmiled.Cale
noddedatthebodieshanging
allaroundthecourtyard.‘Whatdoyoumakeof
this?’‘Idon’tmakeanythingof
it,’hesaid,suddenlyangry.‘Fuckinggoodfuckingriddance.’Thenhelaughed;humourcertainlybuthorroralso.‘Didn’tseeitcoming,though.’‘Boscotoldthemthiswas
howthey’dgettoheaven.’VagueHenrinodded.
‘Findhimyet?’Caleasked.‘No.Wantto?’‘Onewayortheother.
He’llbeinhisroom,maybe.’‘Not,’saidVagueHenri‘a
goodideatogowanderingaroundwithoutbeingfirm-handed.’‘I’mimpatient.Really,I
can’twait.’
Windsor,thecancer-infectedLaconictaskedwithkilling
ThomasCalethatday,wasfeelingparticularlyunwell.Hewasnotlongfortheworldonewayortheother.He’dseenCaletalkingtoVagueHenriandtriedtogettoahighvantagepointwherehecouldgetadecentshot.Heputonacassockhe’dstrippedoffoneoftheRedeemers.He’dhopedforagooddealmoreconfusionanddaysoffightingtogivehiman
opportunitybutnoweverythingwasstaticandsoldiersweremillingaboutintheirthousands,gloomyanddepressedbythehangingdead;havingbeenwoundupsotightandthenitallbeingovertherewasnowherefortheirhorriblemixoffeelingstogobutinside.Unfamiliarwiththe
Sanctuaryanditstwists,Windsorgotlostonhisway
toawalledledgehe’dspotted,andbythetimehearriveditwasonlytoseeCaleandVagueHenrileavingthesquareonareconnoitrewhichcouldonlybeconsideredseriouslyill-advised.Though,ofcourse,ifthey’ddonethewisethingandstayedwheretheywere,Calewouldhavehadonlyafewsecondstolive.Windsorgotridofthe
cassock–therewereplentysparewherethatcamefrom–andheadedoffinpursuitofthetwoboys,thoughnotwithanygreatoptimismthathe’dfindtheminthevastconfusionoftheplace.Ontheotherhand,therewerenowLaconicswanderingallovertheSanctuarysotherewouldbenoproblemstalkingthem.Hepausedonlytovomit,somethinghenowdidthree
timesaday.Itwasnoeasyprogressfor
CaleandVagueHenri–althoughthefloorswereclear,everythingabovetwofeetwaspackedwithhangingpriestsandtheirheadwaywasslowandsingularastheypushedtheirwaythroughthepackedmassofdanglingbodies.Justasheexpected,Windsorwasquicklylost,butwhilestaringoutofawindow
henoticedthatthoughhecouldn’tseethetwoboysthemselvestheygaveawaytheirtrailbythemovementofbodiesswingingbackandforthintheirwake.Hedecidedthatitwouldbequicker,evenwithbriefstopstochecktheirprogress,tocrawlunderthepriestsratherthanpushthroughthem.ThethoughthadalsooccurredtoCaleandVagueHenributnot
onlydidtheyfindtheideaofcrawlingundertheirformermastersobjectionable,thetruthwasthattheywereenjoyingthemselves.ThegeneralsoldiersmighthavebeencowedbytheRedeemers’grimwillingnesstoembracedeathinsuchaterribleanddeterminedfashionbutCaleandVagueHenriweremadeofsternerstuff–thishideousendstruck
themasentirelydeservedandbetterthananythingtheycouldhavethoughtupforthemselves.Itwasnoexaggerationtosaythatoncethey’dgotovertheinitialshocktheywerethrilledbywhathadhappened,anecstasyofsatisfactionthatalltheirpainhadbeeninsomemeasurereimbursed.Thesedeathswereverysweettobothofthem,asweetnessthat
requiredtobemadecompletebyaconfrontation,deadoralive,withBoscohimself.AtonepointWindsorcame
withinfortyyardsofthembutthedarknessandthemazinessoftheplacedefeatedhimagain:hetookawrongturnandcrawledoffunderthevaultofpointyfeeteverfurtherintotheinnersnarloftheSanctuary.
AsCaleandVagueHenricametotheendofthelargestofthecorridorstheyheardasound.Atfirstitwashardtomakeout,stoppingandstarting–itwasascratchingsoundandascrabblingsoundlikeatrappedanimal,asmallone,tryingtoescape.Itwasadesperatesound:scratchandscrape,silence,scratchandscrape.Intheincreasingdarknessandsilenceit
tightenedtheskinonthebackoftheirskulls.Scratchandscrape,silence,scratchandscrape.Thenanoddscuffingflutterysound.Slowlytheymovedtotheendofthecorridor,whereitturnedrightandalsoopenedupintoaspacethesizeofalargeroom.Twitchy,theyloweredthemselvestothegroundandsawwhatwascausingthesound:manic,sandalledfeet,
flappingandscrabblingatthefloorandwretchedlytryingtogetcontactwithsomethingsolidtosupporttheweightofitsbody.Theknotmusthaveslippedortheropestretched.Asthecornerofthecorridorturnedtherewasenoughspaceforthemtositbackagainstthewallwithoutthelinesofturneddownfeetintheirfaces.‘Gettingtoodarktosee,’
saidVagueHenri.Scrabble,scrabble,scrape.‘It’sprettyclose–justthe
othersideofthislatitudehere.’Scrape,scrape,scrabble.‘Thatsound–it’sgiving
metheshrinks.’‘Thenlet’sgetawayfrom
it.’Keepingclosetothestone,
theyeasedalongthewalloftheLatitude.Scrabble,
scrape,scrabble,scrape.Thensuddenlyawildanddesperatescratchingandraspsasthechokingman,ragingtobreathe,lashedoutforpurchaseonthefloor.‘Oh,forGod’ssake!’said
VagueHenriandpushedthroughthehangingdeadandgrabbedthechokingRedeemerbythewaisttoeasehisweightandcuthimdownwithhisknife.
ThedyingRedeemer,almostgone,tookinabreathofairandregainedconsciousness–butonlyofasort.Anoverseerofthehangingitself,hehadbeenamongthelasttohang.Theropehadseemedallrightbutitturnedouttobeinferiorstuffandhadstretchedtoallowthetipsofhistoestotakeenoughofhisweighttokeephimaliveforhours.
WhenVagueHenritookhimbythewaisthewasabletobreatheandstartedtowakeupfromthedeathnightmarehe’dbeentryingtorunawayfrom:adevilwascomingforhim,bug-eyedandfatwithgappyteeth,allpinkandwhitewithaslimy,drippy,rederectionandlaughingmadly,likeapigmightlaugh.ItwasnotVagueHenribut
thishorribledemonholding
himinhisarms–reachingforanythingtosavehimselfhepulledoutasharpenedpencilhe’dbeenusingtocountoffhislistofthosehewastohangand,withthestrengthoftheutterlyterrified,hestabbedatthecreatureholdinghimwhocriedoutandfellaway,droppingtheRedeemerandfinallybreakinghisneck.‘Ow!Ow!’
‘What’sthematter?’‘Bastardstabbedme.’Calestartedpushinghis
waythroughthehangingbodiesthatmockedhimbybangingintohimandeachother.TherewasalittlemorespacearoundthenowdeadRedeemer–whenhe’dcometohanghimselftherewasroomleftover.VagueHenriwasfeelingaroundunderhisarmandtowardshisback.
‘Hestabbedme,’hesaid,indignant.‘Hestabbedmewithafuckingpencil.’TheRedeemer,soulnowin
everlastingbliss,ornot,didindeedhaveapencilgraspedinhisrighthand.‘Luckythat’sallitwas.
Bloodystupidbloodythingtodo.’‘Shutup–havealook.’Hehelduphisleftarmand
turnedhisback.Ittooka
whiletofindtheholeinthewool–Calehadtocuthiswayintogetaproperlook.Therewasindeedapencil-
shapedhole–butnotmuchblood,thoughitwaspumpingabit.‘What’sitlike?’‘Well,Iwouldn’twantone
–it’llstingabit.’‘Itdoes.’‘It’snottoobad.Let’sgo
back,getitseento.’
‘It’sallright.We’vecomethisfar.Givemeacoupleofminutes.’Hetookafewdeepbreaths
andthenbegantorecover.‘Howfar?’‘Justdownthecorridora
bit.’‘Doyouthinkhe’llstillbe
alive?Hemightbewaitingtotakeyouwithhim.’‘Heprobablywon’teven
bethere.’
‘Betyouadollar.’‘No.’‘Whynot?’‘Whatwouldbethepoint?’‘Ifeelabitwobbly,’said
VagueHenri.Helookedit,too.Beadsofsweat,smallones,hadbeguntocoverhisfaceandhewaslookingpale.Hesatdown,usingthewalltosupporthisweight.Caledidn’tlikethelookofhim.‘Letmeseethewound
again.’VagueHenriturnedtohis
right.Nowitwaspumpingbloodslightly,sonottoobad,buttherewasmorethanheexpected.Itmusthavegoneinabitdeeperthanhethought.ButevenasCalelookedthebloodstoppedflowing.HeeasedVagueHenribacktorestagainstthewallbutbynowhewasalreadydead.
40
IdrisPukkewasstandinginthemainsquareoftheSanctuarytalkingtoFanshawe,whosemindwaselsewhere,wonderingifWindsorhadmanagedtokillThomasCale.Hewasso
preoccupiedthathedidn’tnoticeatfirstthatIdrisPukkehadstoppedtalking.Theneveryonearoundthemwentsilentaswell.AcrossthelargesquareCalewaswalkingslowlytowardsthem,carryingVagueHenripiggyback,asifhewereasmallchildwho’dfallenasleepafteratoo-excitingday.Foramomentnoonemoved,unabletograspwhat
theywereseeing.Weretheyfoolingabout?Theyoftendid.Calestoppedandthenhitchedtheboyfurtheruphisbackasifhewereabouttoslipoff.ThenadozenmenrantowardsthemandheallowedthemtotakeVagueHenriintotheirarms.IdrisPukkeandFanshawewalkedslowlyuptohim.VagueHenriwasdead–theyhadtoomuchexperiencenot
torecognizetheterribleabsence.‘Whathappened?’asked
IdrisPukke.Caledidn’tseemtohear.
‘He’snotgoingbackintoaroominthisplace.Getoneofthetablesoutoftherefectoryoverthere.They’rebig–you’llneedadozenmen.’Itwasclearhedidn’twant
totalksotheystoodforfiveminuteswithCaleashe
lookedaroundtheSanctuaryasifhewastryingtorememberwherehe’dleftsomething,withVagueHenribeingheldcarefullyinthearmsoffourofhisownpeople.Thenthetable,clearlyasheftyasCalehadsaidandsomethirty-footlong,washauledintothemiddleofthesquare.CaletookVagueHenrifromthemenandlaidhimcarefullyin
themiddleandthenarrangedthebodyatfirstwithhishandsbyhissideandthenfoldedonhischest.Deathhadalreadydrawnhistoplipbackoverhisfrontteeth,mockinghimwiththerabbitysmileofthedead.ItwaswithsomedifficultythatCalepulleditbackintoshape.ThenhiseyelidsstartedtoopenandCalecouldn’tgetthemtostayshut.He
signalledoneofthesergeantstogivehimawhitescarfhewaswearing;hefoldeditseveraltimesandthenputitoverVagueHenri’seyeslikeablindfold.Stillnoonesaidanythinguntiloneofthesoldiersgasped:‘GoodGod!’Everyonelookedupexcept
forCale,whowaslostinaworldofhisown,staringdownathisfriend.Aroundhimtherewassilenceso
intensethatitfinallypiercedthefogofhisdisbeliefthatVagueHenriwasgoneforgood.Helookedup.Atthefarendofthesquare,barefoot,dressedinwhitelinenandwiththepenitent’snoosearoundhisneck,PopeBoscoXVIwaswalkingtowardsthemwithagentlesmileonhisface.HewasmuchthinnerthanwhenCalehadlastseenhimandthe
linentunicwasmuchtoolargewhich,alongwiththegapingofhismouthashemadetheefforttowalk,gavehisfacethelookofachicknotquitereadytoleavethenest.IttooktheoldmanalmostaminutetomakeitovertothegroupstandingnexttothehugetableandwhoseeyesmovedsilentlybackandforwardbetweenCaleandtheoldman
shamblingtowardsthem.CaledidnotmovenorblinkbutwatchedBoscoentirelytransfixed.ItseemedtothosewatchingthattheoldmanandCalehadbecometheonlypeoplewhoexistedinthesquare.Boscostopped,stillsmilinglovinglyattheboy.‘I’vebeenwaitingpatiently
foryou–toexplaineverythingandtoaskyourforgivenessfortheterrible
sufferingIcausedyou.’StillCaledidnotmoveor
sayanything.Helookedasifhewouldneverspeakagain.‘Icouldnotunderstand
howGodwasspeakingtomethroughallyourmanyvictoriesoverus.WaterlessandwithoutfoodIprayedfordayafterday.IcouldseebutIcouldnotperceive,hearbutnotunderstand.Theninhismercyformystupidityhecut
awaytheskinfrommyeyes.WhenyoucamehereasaboyIsawatoncewhatyouwerebutIthoughtthatyouneededmetoteachyouhowtowipeawayhisgreatmistake.EverynightIweptatthepainandsufferingImustinflictonyousothatyouwouldhavethestrengthofsoulandbodytodosuchunspeakablework.AllofthethingsIdidtomakeyoustrongonlybuilthatred
wherethereshouldhavebeenlove.Thedeathoftheworldwasanactofholytendernesstomankindandnotapunishment–itwastobedoneasagiftsothathecouldbeginagain.IthoughtyouweretheincarnationofGod’swrathbutyouwerehislovemadeflesh,nothisanger.InmyincompetenceImaddenedyouandmadeyouhatefulwhenallIshouldhavedone
wastreatyouwiththekindnessthatyouweretoshowtheworldbyhelpingallitssoulsintothenextlifetostartagain.Myfault,myfault,mymostgrievousfault.’Boscokneltdowninfront
ofCale.‘Forgiveme,Thomas.God
wastellingmethroughallyourvictoriesagainstusthatthedamagedonetoyoursoul
hadtobeundonebythemanwhocausedthatdamage.IthoughtthatIandmyfellowpriestswouldbethelasttojoinGodforthegreatrenewalofsouls,butnowit’snecessaryforustobefirst,sothatyoucangoaboutGod’sworkwithaspiritatpeace.Onlybyourpoorsacrificecanyoursoul-hatredbewipedaway.’Bosco,tearsofgratitude
pouringfromhiseyes,heldoutbothofhisarmsandbegantopray.‘Purgemewithhyssop,
Lord,andIshallbeclean:washme,andIshallbewhiterthansnow.DelivermefrommyguiltsothatthespiritandtheheartofThomasCale,whichIhavebroken,mayrejoice.’AsBoscoprayed,Cale
begantolookaroundasiffor
akeyhehadabsentmindedlymisplaced.Everyoneelsestaredathim,horriblythrilledatwhatwashappening.FanshawespokesoftlytoIdrisPukkeasCalewalkedovertothefarendofthetableonwhichVagueHenri’sbodywaslyingandstartedpullingatasmallpieceoftwobyfourthathadbeennailedtotherefectorywallandthetabletokeepitfrommoving.
‘ThinkoftheinformationwecangetfromBosco,’saidFanshawe.‘Weneedhimalive.’‘Iagree.Bemyguest.’
Fanshawedidnotmove.Cale’sattempttopullaway
theblockofwood,nomorethannineincheslong,wasunsuccessful,thenailsstillbeingintoodeep.Thenhegavetheblockanalmightywrenchanditcamefree.As
hewalkedbacktoBoscotheoldmanwasstillpraying.‘Withthissacrificeofyour
priestswipeawayalltearsfromhiseyessothatthereshallbenomoresorrow,norshalltherebeanymorepain.’SlowlyCalebegantocircle
behindhim–aweighingupofsomethingclearlygoingoninhismind.‘JustastheHanged
Redeemerofferedhisbroken
neckforoursalvation,withthesacrificialchokingsofYourRedeemerswipecleantheneedlessinsultstohissoul,sothathewillbefreeatlasttodohisterriblekindnesstotheworld.Freeatla–’Caletooktwosteps
forwardandbroughttheblockofwooddownonthetopoftheoldman’shead.Butitwasnotanespeciallyhardblowanditwasnotan
especiallyheavypieceofwood.Bosco’sheadjerkedforwardslightly,notmuch,andathinlineofblooddrippeddownhisface.Heopenedhismouthasiftocontinuebutnotasoundemerged.Hetriedtospeakagainbutimmediatelytherewasanotherblowandagainhisheadjerkedforwardbutagaintheblowwasmuchlessheavythanitcouldhave
been.Themenwatchingwerenotatallstrangerstothehideousbutalreadysomeofthemwerelookingaway.Thenanotherblow.Anothertrickleofblood.Boscowaswavinghishead
aboutandhishandshadfallenhalfwaytohissides.Hegasped.‘Into…thy…ha–’Anotherblowstoppedhis
mouthbutstillhewastoo
strongtofallortheblowsdeliberatelynotheavyenough.Thenanothercrackofwoodagainstskullandanother.Thistimehealmostfellonhisfacebutsomethingdrewhimnearlyuprightagain.AnotherblowandthistimeacryfromBoscoashalfadozenlinesofbloodfloweddownhisshavedskullandcoveredhisface.‘ForGod’ssake,Thomas,
enough,’saidIdrisPukke.Calelookeddirectlyathimlikeafoxsmellingaslightsniffofsomethinginthewind:Important?Notatall.Thentheinterruptionwasentirelydismissedasifithadneverhappened.HeturnedtoconcentrateonBoscoagain.Hedroppedthestainedblockofwoodandthen,withgreatcare,tookholdofthepenitents’ropearound
Bosco’sneckandstartedtoswayhimgentlyfromsidetoside,supportinghisnecksohewoulddonoharm,thewayamotherholdstheheadofababyshe’sabouttobathe.‘Thomas!’calledout
IdrisPukke.Butitwasnouse:hewas
somewhereveryfarbeyondthereachesofpity.CalepulledBoscouptohisface
andslappedhimwithonehandtobringhimround.Slowly,Boscowokeup.AsherecognizedCalehestartedtosmilelovinglyattheboy.‘Iwant…’ButwhatBoscowanted
wascutshortinasecondasCale,hyena-souled,whippedtheropeupwardsandthendownwithasnapsofuriousitbroketheoldman’sneckwithaloudcrack.
Therewasasoundfromthemenaround,anintakeofbreath.CalepulledBosco’sfacebacktohisownuntiltheywerealmosttouching,fixinghisdeathinhismindsothathewouldnotforget–then,verycarefully,helaidthedeadmanonthegroundandwalkedaway.Thewitnesseswereshaking,everyoneofthem,evenFanshawe.Theyhadallseen
41
ThefirethathadnearlysuffocatedVagueHenrithedaybeforehadstillnotbeenputoutcompletelyandafterafewhoursitregaineditshold,thoughonlyintheghettowherethegirlshadbeenheld.
StillitwasenoughtogiveoffanorangeglowthatlittheundersidesofthegreycloudsthathadsettledlowovertheSanctuaryandenabledIdrisPukketofindCale,abouthalfamilefromthegate,aboutfourhoursafterhe’dkilledBosco.‘I’mverysorryabout
VagueHenri,’saidIdrisPukke.Therewasnoreplyatfirst.
‘HowdidyouknowI’dbehere?’‘Ididn’t.Isentpeopleout
butIthoughtthatsomewhereherewouldbeapossibility.’Calewassittingonarock
aboutahundredyardsfromtheisolatedcompoundwhereArbellMaterazziwasbeingkept.‘Wereyouthinkingofgoingin?’‘Iwasmullingitover,yes.’‘WouldyoumindifIasked
younotto?’Againtherewasnoreply
foratime.‘Iwasthinkingofburying
VagueHenriattheVoynichoasis,’hesaideventually.‘Idon’tknowit.’‘Notfarfromhere.Alake.
Nicetrees,birdssingingandstuff.He’dlikethat.’‘Hewould,yes.’‘Iwantthegirlstogo.
They’llcry,Isuppose.He’d
likethataswell.Stupidreally.Whatdifferencedoesitmake?’‘I’vebeentoafairnumber
offunerals.Theymakeadifferencesometimes.’‘Nottohim.’‘No,nottohim.’Afewminutes’more
silence.ThenCalelaughed.‘DidIevertellyouabout
VagueHenriandtheupsidedownprayerbook?’
‘Idon’tbelieveyoudid.’Infacthe’dtoldIdrisPukkethestorywhentheywereatTreetops.‘Don’tknowwherehegot
theideabuthetorethecoveroffthemissalweweresupposedtoreadforanhouradayandglueditonupsidedown.He’dtakeitoutwheneverhecameacrossapigwhodidn’tknowhimandstartreading.Itdrovethem
crazywhentheysawit–pretendingtoreadtheHolyMissal…blasphemy!They’dcomeracingoverandripitoutofhishandsandcliphimontheear.Buthedidn’tmind.Thenhe’dshowthemthecoverhadbeenstuckonupsidedownandtellthemhewaswaitingforanewone.EvenpiggyRedeemershadtodoagrovelatthat.Someofthemevensaidtheywere
sorry.HemadeafortunebettingtheacolyteshecouldgetaRedeemertoaskforforgiveness.’Anothersilence.‘Ihateher.’‘Yes.’‘Ineverhatedherbefore.I
pretendedIdid,butIdidn’t.IwasashamedthatshestoppedlovingmeandsoldmeupbutIdidn’tstoplovingher,notforamoment.’Another
silence.‘Doyouknowaboutmortification?’‘No.’‘Boscosaiditmeantthat
youcoulddieofshame–youknow,shameforyoursins.Ifeltmortificationbylovingher.Soweak–weakandashamed.’ForthefirsttimehelookedoveratIdrisPukke.‘DoyouknowwhyHenridied?’‘No.’
‘Becauseofher.’‘Idon’tunderstand.’‘See,Icamebackhere
becauseofher.Ibroughtherheretoshowher.ImeanIdidn’tplanitoranything,notinmyhead.ButIcanseeitnow.Nowhe’sdead.’‘Seewhat?’‘Iwantedhertoseethe
Sanctuary–soshe’dunderstandwhyIwassooddandthenshe’dlovemeagain.
AndthenIwantedtoshowherthatIcoulddestroyit–thatshedidn’thavetogivemeawaytoBoscobecauseIcouldhavebeatenthem.Iwouldhavedone.Ihavedone.Iwantedhertoseewhatadreadfulthingshedidfornogoodreason.ButallIdidwasbringVagueHenribacksothathecoulddieinthisshithole.Hereofallplaces.Todiehere.’
Hebeganputtinghisfiststohishead,grindinghistempleswithhisknucklesasiftodrillaholetoletsomethingout.‘Don’tgodownthere,’
IdrisPukkesaid.‘ThinkImight.’Calestood
up.‘Boscowasright,youeitherkillthepastoritkillsyou.’‘Don’tgo.You’reinastate
ofmindwheresomething
grimmighthappen.’‘You’reright,it’strue–
unspeakablethingsareonmymind.’‘WhatwouldVagueHenri
say?’Hewasgettingdesperatetryingthisone.‘VagueHenri’sdead.No
votesforhim.’‘Idon’tknowhowbador
goodsheis.Ibarelyknowthegirl.WhatIdoknowisthatshe’sablightonyou.You
canonlymakethingsworseifyougoanywherenearher.Thetwoofyoushareamadnessthatwillcutyoubothintwo.Getherawayfromyou.’Anothershortsilence.‘WhenImurderedKitty
theHaretherewassomethingIdidn’ttellyouabout.Itwasthelookinhiseyes–Isupposehewasterrifiedaswellbutitwasn’thisfearthat
stuckinmymind,itwastheshock.Thiscan’tbehappeningtome,hewasthinkingwhileIbeatthelifeoutofhim,notme.DayafterdayKittywasguiltyofeverykindofcrueltyandviolenceyetwhenthatviolencecametohiminhisownhomehewasdumbfounded.Couldn’tgetthatlookofamazementoutofmymind.’HeturnedagaintoIdrisPukke.‘Know
why?’‘No.’‘I’vejustrealizedmyself.I
wanttoseethatlookagain,reallyIdo.Iwanttoseeitintheeyesofthatshit-bagZog,andBoseIkard,andRobertFanshaweandhisEphorsandeveryonelikethemeverywhereintheworld.Iwanttoseethatshockintheireyes:Me?Notme.Thiscan’tbehappening.Theworldis
fullofpeoplewhoneedtodielikethat.’‘So,theLeftHandofGod
afterall.’Calelaughed.‘Whosaidanythingabout
God?’‘Whataboutallthepeople
you’regoingtohavetokilltogettothem?’‘I’llgiveeveryonethe
chancetobudgeoutoftheway.’
‘Andiftheydon’tagreetobudge?’‘Thenthey’llgetwhat’s
comingtothem.’‘Andsowillthethousands
uponthousandswhowon’tbeabletogetoutofthewayeveniftheywantedto.Boscothoughtyoucouldruletheworld–buthewasmad.What’syourexcuse?’‘WhatchoicedoIhave?’‘Wealwayshaveachoice.’
‘Youknow,I’veneverheardyousayanythingstupidbefore.AreyoureallytellingmeIcanstop?NotevenifIwantedto.Noone’sgoingtoletmebe,noone’sgoingtoletmetakemyselfoffsomewhereandeatcakewithgirlsinpeaceandquiet.Itriedthat.Iwouldn’tlastsixmonthsifIwalkedawaynow.’HelookedatIdrisPukke.‘TellmeI’m
wrong.’‘Yourjoyisallinlaying
wastetothings–blightanddesolationiswhatmakesyoursoulglad.’‘What?’Forsomereason
Calewasfurious.‘Wasn’tthatwhatthat
puppetsaidtoyou?’‘Oh,thatthing.Yes.’‘Idon’tagree,forwhatit’s
worth.’‘Thanks–I’mtouched.’
‘ButifyougodownthereandkillArbellMaterazzi,that’sthefirststep.Youcan’tcomebackfromsomethinglikethat.’‘YouknowwhatIlearnt
fromkillingBosco?There’snothinglikeanitchthatyoucanfinallyscratch.Enoughtalknow.We’lltalkagaintomorrow.’‘Youcan’tkillsomeone
justbecausetheydon’tlove
youanymore.’‘Whynot?’‘Supposeeveryone
behavedlikethat?’‘Thenpeoplewouldbea
lotmorecareful.’‘Willyoucomewithme?’
saidIdrisPukke.‘Sleeponit?’‘No.’WhatwasIdrisPukketo
do?Nothing.Hemadehiswaybackto
themaincompound,tripping
onstonesandmattedwebsofarse-wipeashewent.
Allthatnightpriestswerefallingthroughtheair.Flocks,doles,bevies,parliamentsandtrainsofthelatelyhangedwerebeinghauledintheirhundredstotheWestWalloftheSanctuaryandheavedoverthesidetofreefallthethreehundredfeetontoGinky’s
Field,whereforsixhundredyearsthebodiesoftheRedeemershadbeensetaside.Whatdidtheyfalllike?Likenothingyou’veeverseen.Somethreehoursintothis
grimrite–knownastheFirstDefenestrationoftheHangedbecausethegapinthewallthroughwhichthebodieswerepitchedresembledawindow–Windsorfinally
escapedfromtherecessesoftheSanctuaryandmadehissickandexhaustedwaytoFanshawe.‘It’stoolatenow,darling,’hesaid.‘You’dbettergetsomesleepandyoucantryagaintomorrow.’
Buttherewasn’ttobeanotherchanceforWindsor.BythetimethesuncameupThomasCalewasmilesaway,sittinginthebackofawagononits
waytothematerialsdepotatSnowHill.
IdrisPukkehadmenoutsearchingformonthsbuttherewasn’tatraceoftheboy.Hedidn’tgiveup,ofcourse:hepaidagooddealofmoneytointelligencerswhoknewhowtokeeptheirmouthsshuttoreportonrumoursabouteventhemosttenuoussightingsofThomas
Cale.Therewereplentyofthose.Itwasnotdifficulttodiscountthestorythathe’dbeenseenintheprowofagreatshipsettingoutacrosstheWoodenSea,accompaniedbyeightmaidensinwhitesilk,boundfortheIsleofAvalonfromwherehewouldreturnafteralongsleeptosavetheworldwhenitwasnextthreatenedwithdestruction.Thenitwas
reportedhewasmakinghislivingasajugglerinBerlin,orsellinghatsinthemarketsinSyracuse.Alarminglyplausiblewasthenews,morethanayearlater,thathe’dbeenkilledtryingtointerruptthemarriageinLebanonofArbellMaterazzitotheAgaKhan,DukeofMalfi,amansoextravaganthewasknownastheEmperorofIceCreambecausehisfortunewas
meltingaway.ButIdrisPukkequicklyconfirmedfromaguestwho’dbeenattheceremonythatthecelebrationshadpassedoffimpeccably.Laterstilltherewastherumourthathehaddrowned,alongwithWatTyler,intheGreatFiascoontheIsleofDogs;thenthathehadbeencrucifiednexttoBuffellowBillduringthereligiouswarsatTroy.
Butthoughthesightingswereasnumerousastheywereunreliableapatternofsortsemergedfromafewreports,verysmallinnumber,thathehopedweretrue.TherewereanumberofclaimshehadbeenseendowninEmmaeusinone-horsetownsbuyingnails,sawsandoliveoil.TheordinarinessofthisreassuredIdrisPukke:itwaswarm
there,eveninwinter,andthecountrysidewascoveredbymileuponmileofforestsofelmandash,aswellashundredsofsmalllakeswhereitwouldbeveryhardtofindsomeonewhodidn’twanttobefound.HelikedtothinkofCalekeepingoccupiedhammeringandsawingthingsandeatingwell–thoughhecoulddiscovernothingverysolidtothese
reportsevenafterhe’dsentreliablepeopledowntheretomakeinquiries.Buthehopedhewassomewherearoundthereatanyrateandkeepingsafe.
AsthelegaljudgmentbyModeratorBreffniWaltzsoelegantlydetailstheoriginsofthediscoveryoftheRubbishTipsofParadiseandthe‘creation’oftheso-calledLeftHandofGodtrilogy,Iwillnotrehearsethemhere.NeitherdoIintendtodetailthelegalchallengestotheentirelyimproperclaimsofownershipbyeitherDrFahrenheitortheHabiru
people,rightswhichclearlybelongtotheentireworldandnottoanindividualoratribalgroupwhohaveshownscantrespectforthismostpreciousofarchaeologicalsites.Nooneisdenyingthe
contributionofDrFahrenheitindiscoveringthetipsandhadheimmediatelycalledintheUnifiedNationsArchaeologicalSurvey,asheshouldhavedone,thiswould
beaverydifferentstory:hewouldnowbeadmiredasoneofarchaeology’sgreatestsonsinsteadofbeingreviledasitsgreatestvillain.EarlyonFahrenheitcameupwiththeworkinghypothesisthattheoriginofthepagesintheFieldofBookswasnotalibraryoranythingequallycarefullystructuredbutarubbishtipconsistinglargelyofdiscardedpapers,
somewhatsimilartothoseuncoveredintheearlyyearsofthelastcenturyatOxyrinchus(thoughthoseremainsarenomorethaneighteenhundredyearsold–proofthatevenagreatcitycanvanishveryquicklyfromthememoryofhistory).Itturnsoutthathewasright.Whathewasnotabletodowasdiscoverthelocationoftherubbishtipitself.
However,whilehewaslookingforwhatonemighttermthemotherlode,hekeptdiscoveringindividualscrapsofpaperanditwasfromthese,matchedbyhisquickgraspoftheHabirulanguage,thathewasabletofindtheveryfewwordsthesetwocivilizationshadincommonandsounravelthemeaningofmanyofthesedocuments,someofwhichmaybeupto
fiftythousandyearsold,orevenolder.Whathehadinhispossessionweremanyhiggledy-piggledyscrapsofpaper–bitsofoldletters,accounts,legaldocuments–butonlyonebook.Itwasneverfoundinitscompleteformbutthepaperscontinuedtoturnupinlargequantitiesandinapproximatelythesameplace–thereweresomanyfragmentsthatoncehe
hadmasteredthelanguageofthesetextshewasabletorecreatealmostintheirentiretytheseriesofwhatturnedouttobethreebooks.Butwhatdidthattellhim,
orus,abouttheirstatusamongthepeopleforwhomtheywereintended?WeretheytobefoundinsuchnumbersbecausetheLeftHandofGodtrilogy(ashecalledit–noneofthetitle
pageshavesofarbeendiscovered)wasconsideredoneofthegreatartistictreasuresofthislostcivilization?Inshort,wastheauthortheequivalentofourowngiants–aBramleyorGinsmeyer–orwasheanAllinHarwoodorJinnaLorenzo,widelyreadandaswidelyderided?Orwasheadeludedself-publisherwhosebookswentstraightfromthe
printingpressintohisatticandfromtheredirectlytotherubbishtipenmassewithoutsellingacopytoanyoneotherthanalucklessfriendorrelative?Assuch,completelyshorn
ofanycontext,eitherhistoricaloraesthetic,thesebookssetusaninterestingchallenge.Fornowwemustmakesomethingofthem,goodorbad,onlythrougha
simpleanddirectreadingunmediatedbyaccumulatedlayersofculturalstatus.Ifwefailtobemovedandstimulated,arewerejectingaworkonceconsideredbyitsreaderstobeofsublimequality?Andifwearestirred,arewebeingstimulatedbyabooksoworthlessitscontemporariesthoughtitonlyfittobethrownaway?Othercentral
questionsremain,ofthesortwecanusuallytakeforgrantedinordertotelluswhattothinkaboutwhatweareabouttoread.Isitsomekindofhistoricalfiction?Isitacontemporaryworkdescribingrecentevents?Isitentirelyimaginary?DidtheRedeemersexistinfact,oraretheymerelytheproductofanunhealthyimagination,oristheirpresentationmerely
propagandawrittenbysomeonebelongingtoanopposingcult?Arethecharactersbasedonrealindividualsandassuchwouldhavebeenknowntotheiraudienceoraretheyentirelyinventionsofthewriter?Arethemanydifferencesinstyletobeexplainedbytheerraticnatureofthewritingorarethesereferencestoknownworksthatthereaderwould
haverecognized,oraretheyjustthefts?Wasitwrittenbymorethanoneperson?Ornoneoftheabove?Onlyoneofthesequestions,concerningtheMaterazziandtheRedeemers,hasalreadybeenpartlyanswered(seebelow1#).Wemustacceptwemayneverknowhowtoreadthesetextsaccurately.MrFahrenheitattemptedto
solvetheseproblemsbythe
simpleexpedientofignoringthem.Hepublishedthefirsttwobooksintheseriesasiftheywerecontemporaryexamplesofthegenreusuallydescribedas‘fantasy’–thoughlackingastheydoanydwarfs,fairies,monstersorelvesit’snoteasytounderstandwhy.Bethatasitmay,thebookspublishedunderthefamilynameofFahrenheit’smotherwere
reasonablysuccessfulincommercialterms,iffoundoddbymanyanddistinctlydislikedbyothers.Thetranslation,thoughracyandfree,cannotbesaidtobeinaccurate.
TheUnifiedNationshavenowlegallytakencontrolofthesitecalledbytheHabirutheFieldofBooksbutpopularlyknownasthe
RubbishTipsofParadiseafteranewspaperheadlinemoreconcernedwithamemorablephrasethananydegreeofaccuracy(therubbishtipsareeastofthefabledEdenbysometwohundredmiles).The‘ownership’ofthetextoftheLeftHandofGodtrilogyissubjecttolegalappealbetweenUNASandFahrenheitandtheHabiru.
FollowingMrFahrenheit’scommittalundertheMentalHealthActtoacarefacilityinCambria,anagreementhasbeenreachedtopublishthethirdvolume,TheBeatingofHisWings,inatranslationbyFahrenheitwheretheprofitsarepaiddirectlytotheHabiru.Induecourse,andinthelightoftheextensiveresearchonthedocumentsbeinguncoveredbyUNAS,a
properacademictranslationwillbepublishedtoincludefootnotesandadetailedanalysisofthehistoricalcontextaswellasaprofessionalcommentary.Wecanhardlyfailtohope
that,asmorematerialisuncoveredintheRubbishTipsofParadise(aswearenowmoreorlessobligedtocallthem),wewilldiscovermanygreatmasterpiecesof
ourhiddenpast.Whocansaywhatshocksanddelightsaretocome?
DoctorProfesseurAjaxPlowman42ndofBrumaireAD143.812
1#Sinceitdetailsaneventmentionedfrequentlyinthetrilogy,Ireferthoseinterestedtothefirstproper
academicpaperbyUNASbasedontranslateddocumentsfromtheRubbishTipsofParadise:‘ThePraxisofAggression:HistoricalVerificationfortheBattleofSilburyHillandtheDeclineoftheMaterazziHegemony’,HistoryToday,vol277,pp.62–120.
APPENDIXii
SomeofthefollowingstatementbyPaulFahrenheithasbeenredactedunderthelawsofcriminallibelandseveralstatutesofUnifiedNationsHateCrimelegislation.
Concerningtheself-servingpropagandaoftheUnifiedNationsArchaeologicalSurvey(UNARSE),theobscurantistmediocritieswhomakeuptheculturalcommentariatandacademia,the whoisnowChairoftheArtsCouncil,andthe
hacksofthemassmedia,allofyoucan ina .Furthermore,
Whatcouldbedrearieronceyouhavelearnedthebasicsofthinkingandreadingthantocarryonlivinginanintellectualnurserywith
someonetellingyouwhattoystochooseandwhy.‘Thisisanicetoy,littleboyorlittlegirl,butnotthatone–itdoesnotmeetwithourviewoftoyness.’Andwhatcouldbemorefoolishthantoseetheworldthroughtheeyesofmostofthecommentariat:theteacher,theacademic,theculturalcommentator,thecritic,themassedranksofopinion-formerswhoclogup
ourworldlike inamidden.ButdeathabovealltotheDooeyDecimalSystemwhichplacestheworldinorderdowntotheeighteenthpoint.Thebestpictureofthehumanmindisneverthelibrary,withitsconvenientanddeadlyorder,buttherubbishtip:lifeinitsfundamentalnatureishaphazard,random,fulloftherottenandthebeautiful,
thewronglydiscarded,fulloftheprofoundtruthofchaos.Itcannotbepackagedneatlyforyourdiscovery.Youmustbeanoutdragger,atinkerinlife’sjourneylookingforthesurprising,theunexpected,theobjectthatcomestohandtobemadeuseofinadifferentwayfromtheoneintended.Asfor
toallofthem.
Thetravellerwhogoesexploringwithanofficialguide,evenacounter-culturalone,andacarefullyworkedoutitineraryisnoexplorer,merelyahigh-mindedtourist.Thenexttimeyouenteralibrarydosowithablindfold!TheRubbishTipsofParadisearemoreinterestingthanparadiseitself.AsVagueHenriwould
say:Deathtothebarnowl!
Acknowledgements
I’dliketothankmyagent,AnthonyGoff,andmyeditoratPenguin,AlexClarke;Alexandra,VictoriaandThomasHoffman,andLorraineHedgerwhotypesupmyhandwritten
manuscriptswithmiraculousaccuracy.ThanksalsotothePenguinRightsdepartment:KateBurton,SarahHunt-Cooke,RachelMillsandChantalNoel.AlsoNickLowndesandmycopyeditor,DebbieHatfield.
ThedescriptionofKingZogandhishabitsisbasedonTheCourtandCharacterofKingJames1,probablybySir
AnthonyWeldon.BoseIkard’sspeech
claiminghehasreachedagreementwiththeRedeemersissubstantiallythatofNevilleChamberlain’sspeechin1938onreturningfromameetingwithAdolfHitler,claimingthathehadsecured‘peaceforourtime’.TheGermanphilosopher
ArthurSchopenhauermakeshisusualextensive
contributiontotheobservationsofIdrisPukke.SisterWray’scommentsonthesunarefromWilliamBlake.ThepopulartunesungbyRibainthecarriagehasalinebasedonthetitleofW.H.Auden’s‘OTellMeTheTruthAboutLove’.Theline,‘Lovehasnoending’comesfromAuden’s‘AsIWalkedOutOneEvening’.Thewords‘under’and‘umbrella’are
borrowedfromRihannaFenty.ThetrialofConnMaterazziispartlybasedonthetranscriptof‘TheTrialofSirWalterRaleigh’inCobbett’sCompleteCollectionofStateTrials.Cale’scommentsaboutbeingseentowatchoverhismenechotheletterbySullivanBalloutohiswifeshortlybeforehisdeath,andfirstquotedinTheLeftHandof
God.Insomeforeigneditionsthisacknowledgementwasinadvertentlyomitted.TheexchangebetweenDorothyRothschildandCalethatendsChapter31isfromalinebytheunderratedAmericanPresidentCalvinCoolidge.TherearemanyhalfquotesoronessoburiedandrewrittenthatIcannolongerrecognizeortracethem.Ifthereadersuspectsothersourcesfrom
HomertoHomerSimpsontheycan,ofcourse,resorttoGooglecutandpaste–thegreatestsneakinthehistoryofknowledge.
ARTEMISIA
ThecharacterofArtemisiainTheBeatingofHisWingsisinspiredby,butnotbasedon,
ArtemisiaofHalicarnassus,theadmiralwhofoughtforthePersiansagainsttheGreeksatSalamisin480BC.AgainstprevailingopinionshestronglyadvisedXerxesnottoattacktheGreekfleetinthenarrowstraitswheretheywouldhavetoogreatanadvantage.FortunatelyforthesubsequentdevelopmentoftheGreekGoldenAge,thegrowthofdemocracyand,
verypossibly,Westerncivilizationitself,Xerxeswentalongwiththeadviceofthemajorityandasaresultlostheavily.Althoughalternativehistoryisabitofamug’sgame,whoknowsifArtemisiahadbeenlistenedtomorecarefullywhethertheAmericansmighthavehadtoweedSaddamHusseinoutofLondonorParisratherthanBaghdad.Perhapsthere
wouldn’tbeanAmericandemocracyatall.Contemporaryfeminist
historiansaredeeplysuspiciousofthetraditionalaccountofherdeath,whichclaimsshethrewherselfoffacliffbecauseshehadfalleninlovewithayoungermanwhodidnotreturnheraffections.Forthem,perhapsrightly,itsmacksofthesexismoftheclassicalworld.Suchatough-
mindedwoman,theyargue,wouldnothavebeensopsychologicallyfragile.Butperhapsnot–theclassicalworldalsohassimilartalesofgreatsoldiersconfusedbylove–takeAntonyandCleopatra.Inourowntimethemilitarily-much-admiredformergeneralDavidPetraeus,whostabilizedthecollapsingAmericanoccupationofIraqin2008,
andhadareputationasasubtleandsophisticatedthinker,wasforcedtoresignhisjobasDirectoroftheCentralIntelligenceAgencyoverhisaffairwithhisbiographer.AsThomasCalewouldhavetoaccept,there’snothingthatunusualabouthavingnervesofsteelandaheartofglass.
JANZISKA
TheoriginofthetacticsandpracticesofCale’sNewModelArmylieswiththeHussitegeneralJanZiska,militaryleaderofwhatwas,asLutherlateracknowledged,thefirstProtestantChristiansectinearlyfifteenth-centuryEurope(basedaroundthemodernCzechRepublic).AlexandertheGreatinherited
anarmywhoseskillandtacticalsuperiorityhadbeenestablishedbyhisfather,butZiskaisveryclosetobeinguniqueinmilitaryhistory,inthathedevelopedawayoffightingprofessionalarmouredsoldiersinhugenumbersusingpeasantsarmedwithweaponsbasedonagriculturalimplementsandfarmwagons.Healsopioneeredthedevelopmentof
lightweightgunpowderweapons.Thisproblem-solving,tacticallybrilliant,completelyoriginalgeniusisbarelyknownoutsidetheCzechRepublic.Forfurtherreading,tryWarriorofGod:JanZizkaandtheHussiteRevolutionbyVictorVernayorTheHussiteWars,1420–34byStephenTurnbullandAngusMcBride.
BEX
ThebattleatBexissometimesbutnotalwaysbasedontheBattleofTowtonin1461.Againoddly,despiteprobablyhavingthehighestdeathrateinEnglishhistory(includingthefirstdayoftheSomme)ataround28,000,Towtonhasfadedfrom
popularmemoryinfavouroflessimportantandlessbloodyconflicts.Forfurtherreading,tryBloodRedRoses:TheArchaeologyofaMassGravefromtheBattleofTowtonAD1461VeronicaFiorato(author,editor),AntheaBoylston(editor),ChristopherKnusel(editor)andTowton:TheBattleofPalmSundayFieldbyJohnSadler.
Somereadershavebeencriticalofthewayinwhichthenamesof‘real’placesturnupjumbledtogetherwithoutrhymeorreasoninthegeographyoftheworldofTheLeftHandofGodtrilogy.I’daskthemtoconsiderthefollowing:RigaSwedenEgyptBelfastGreeceNorfolkManchesterHamburgKentWarsawCambridgeLondon
PeterboroughSyracuseRomeAmsterdamPotsdamBataviaDunkirkReading(notfarfromLebanon)Dover(notfarfromSmyrna)MansfieldStamfordNorwichHydeParkTroyBangor(nexttoNazarethnotfarfromBethlehem)SunburyPalmyraWestminsterEmmaeusMtCarmelDelhiBerlinPeru.Thelistcouldgoon.Whatdothesedisparateplaceshavein
common?Theyarealltowns,villagesandsmallcitieswithin250milesofNewYork(formerlyNewAmsterdam).
FindoutmoreaboutTheLeftHandofGodtrilogyby
visiting:www.redopera.co.uk
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