The Dreaming Void (57 page)

“So you're not going out tonight?” she inquired.

“Nah. I don't have much money left, and I really need to study.”

“You're serious, then, about turning this into a career?”

“Ask me again in a year's time. In the meantime I'm not going to blow it by being stupid. I need to graduate.”

“All of us do,” she said.

“Hmm.” Edeard eyed Macsen, who was lingering at the end of the bridge, exchanging good-natured words with a gondolier passing by underneath. The gondola's benches had been removed and replaced by a simple slatted platform carrying a pile of wooden crates. “For someone supposedly thrown penniless on the street, Macsen seems to have a lot of coinage.”

“Didn't you hear?” she said with a superior smile.

“What?”

“His mother has been taken up by a notorious Master in the Musician's Guild. She's living in a nice little maisonette in the Cobara district. Apparently he's a hundred and ten years older than her.”

“No!” Edeard knew he should not be interested in gossip, but such talk was Makkathran's second currency. Everybody had some piece of hearsay or rumor about the District Master families that he or she couldn't wait to share, and scandal was the greatest currency of all.

“Oh, yes. He used to be in one of the traveling bands which tour the Iguru and villages in the Donsori Mountains.” She leaned in closer to murmur, “Apparently he had to stop touring a while ago because there were so many
offspring
in those villages. Now he just tutors apprentices at the guild building and plays for the families.”

A little memory surfaced in Edeard's thoughts: late-night talk in a tavern several months earlier that he wasn't supposed to hear, and she had said “notorious.” “You're not talking about Dybal?”

Kanseen's smile was victorious. “I couldn't possibly say.”

“But … wasn't he caught in bed with two of the Lady's novices?”

“That's part of his myth. If he wasn't so popular with his satire songs, they'd have thrown him out of the guild decades ago. Apparently they're very
upbeat.
The younger members of noble families idolize him, while the older ones want him to wind up in the bottom of a canal.”

“Yeah, but … Macsen's mother?”

“Yes.”

Kanseen seemed disturbingly pleased with herself, mainly because of his incredulous reaction. That was the way with her, always coming on just that little bit superior. He did not buy it; that was her way of coping with the probationary period, establishing a reasonable barrier around herself. It couldn't be easy being a girl in the constables; there certainly were not many.

Chae started off by heading directly for the plaza where the Chemist Guild headquarters was situated. The pavements between the buildings were a reddish brown in color, with a central row of thick cones rising to waist height. They were filled with soil and planted with big saffcherry trees whose branches created a verdant roof between the bowed walls on either side. Pink-and-blue blossoms were starting to fall, forming a delicate carpet of petals. Edeard tried to keep searching the pedestrians for signs of criminal activity the way Chae kept telling them. It was hard. Akeem's memory had remained crystal-clear and true on one aspect of city life: the girls. They were beautiful, especially those of the noble families, who seemed to use districts like Silvarum to hunt in packs. They took a great deal of care about how they appeared in public: dresses that had plunging necklines or skirts with surprising slits amid the ruffles; lace fabric that was translucent; hair styled to look carefree; makeup skillfully applied to emphasize smiles, cheekbones, huge innocent eyes; sparkling jewelry.

He passed one gaggle of maidens in their mid-teens who wore more wealth with the rings on one hand than he would earn in a month. They giggled coyly when they caught him staring. Then they taunted him:

“Can we help you, Officer?”

“Is that really your truncheon?”

“It's a long truncheon, isn't it, Gilliaen.”

“Will you use it to subdue bad people with?”

“Emylee is very bad, Officer; use it on her.”

“Hanna! She's indecent, Officer. Arrest her.”

“Does he have a dungeon to throw her in, do you think?”

Third hands performed indecent tweaks and prods on private areas of his body. Edeard jumped in shock before hastily shielding himself and turning bright red. The girls shrieked amusement at his behavior and scuttled off.

“Little trollops,” Kanseen muttered.

“Er, absolutely,” Edeard said. He glanced back just to make sure they were causing no trouble. Two of them were still checking him out. More wild giggles rang down the street. Edeard shuddered and faced front, hardening his expression.

“You weren't tempted, were you?” Kanseen asked.

“Certainly not.”

“Edeard, you're really a great guy, and I'm glad to be in the same squad as you. But there's still a lot of the countryside in you. Which is good,” she hastened to add. “But any family girl would eat you for breakfast and spit out the seeds before lunch. They're not nice, Edeard, not really. They have no substance.”

Then how come they look so gorgeous?
he thought wistfully.

“Besides,” Kanseen said. “They all want District Master first sons for husbands, or guildsmen, or, if they're desperate, militia officers. Constables don't come close, not in status or money.”

After the plaza they made their way along to the markets. There were three of them just a couple of streets away from the Great Major Canal that bordered Silvarum's northern side. They were open areas not quite as big as the plaza, packed full with stalls. The still air was heavy with scents. Edeard stared at the piles of fruits and vegetables with mild envy as the stall holders called out their prices and promises of taste and quality. It had been a long time since he'd sat down to a truly decent meal like the kind he used to eat at the guild compound back in Ashwell. Everything at the station hall came wrapped in pastry, and none of the ge-chimps in the kitchen had been instructed in the art of making salad.

“Those are melancholy thoughts,” Kanseen said quietly.

“Sorry,” he said, and made an effort to be alert. Chae had said that markets were always rife with sneak thieves and pickpockets. He was probably right. Here, as always, the stall holders greeted them warmly with smiles and the odd gift: apples, pears, a bottle or two, pledges of a good deal if they came back off duty. They liked the constables to be visible; it discouraged pilfering.

Edeard had been dismayed by the reception they had received in some districts and streets as Chae led them across the city: sullen expressions and intimidating silences, unshielded emotions of enmity, people turning their backs on them, third hands jostling when they were close to canal banks. Chae, of course, had walked on undaunted, but Edeard had been unnerved. He did not understand why whole communities would be repelled by law and order.

They moved on to the second market, the one specializing in cloth and clothes. A dismaying number of young women strolled along, examining colorful fabrics and chattering happily among themselves. He kept a small shield up and did his best not to make eye contact, though there were some truly pretty girls that just begged for a second look. Macsen had no such inhibitions. He chatted happily to any girl who even glanced in his direction.

“You never said which district you come from,” Edeard said.

“I didn't, did I?” Kanseen agreed.

“Sorry.”

“You need to stop saying that, as well,” she said, and smiled.

“Yes, I know. It's just that all of you are used to this.” He gestured toward the crowd. “I'm not. There are more people here in this market than ever lived in Ashwell.” For a moment he was struck by real guilt. He thought about his home less and less these days. Some of the faces had faded from memory. Not Akeem's; his never would. But Gonat, now; did he have red hair or was it dark brown? He frowned from the effort of remembering, but no clear image came.

“Bellis,” Kanseen said. “My family lives in Bellis.”

“Right,” he said. Bellis was on the eastern side of the city, close to the port and directly over the Great Major Canal from Sampalok. They had not patrolled there yet. “You've never been back to see them?”

“No. Mother didn't approve of my becoming a constable.”

“Oh. I'm sor—Shame.”

“I think she would have preferred me to take the Lady's vows.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“You really are from the countryside, aren't you?”

“Is that bad?” he said stiffly.

“No. I guess that's where the values this city used to have are kept alive, out there beyond the Donsori Mountains. It just gives me a shock to hear someone with convictions, that's all. You're rare in Makkathran, Edeard, especially in the constables. That's why you make people uncomfortable.”

“I do?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah.”

“But … You must believe in values. Why else did you join?”

“Same as half of us. In a few years I'll shift over to bodyguard work for a District Master family. They're always desperate for people with a constable's training and experience, particularly one like me; female constables are very thin on the ground. And the noble ladies need protection as much as their husbands and sons. I can just about name my own price.”

“Oh.” The notion surprised him; he'd never considered the constables as a route to anything else, let alone something better.

“Who do I make uncomfortable?”

“Well, Dinlay for a start. He believes in truth and beauty just like you, and he's a lot noisier about it. But you're stronger and smarter. Chae's going to nominate you as squad leader.”

“You don't know that.”

She smiled. It made him realize how attractive she actually was, something the uniform normally made him overlook. But that smile was a match for any of the silly family girls swanning around the market.

“Put money on it?” she challenged.

“Of course not,” he said with mock indignation. “That's bound to be illegal.”

They both laughed.

“You two need a room?” Macsen called over his shoulder. “I know one that'll give you cheap rates.”

Kanseen gave him a forceful hand gesture.

He pulled a face. “Wow, it's true; you can take the girl out of Sampalok, but you can't take Sampalok out of the girl.”

“Asshole,” she growled.

“We're on patrol,” Chae snapped. “What does that mean?”

“Professionalism at all times,” the squad muttered dutifully.

“Then kindly remember that and apply it.”

Macsen, Kanseen, and Edeard grinned at one another as they moved on to the third market, which featured crafts. Stalls displayed small items of furniture, ornaments, cheap jewelry, and alchemic potions. There was even a section selling rare animals as pets. The awnings were a uniform orange-and-white-striped canvas arranged in hexagonal cones with center poles swamped by eaglevine. It was warm underneath, but the full power of the sun was held back.

Edeard stretched his farsight out across the Great Major Canal that ran the length of the city from the port district to the circle canals where the Orchard Palace was situated. Ysidro district was on the other side from Silvarum, wedged between the back of Golden Park and the Low Moat. It was where the Lady's novistery was sited.

“This a good time?” his mind inquired.

“Hello,” Salrana replied with a burst of good cheer. “Yes, I'm fine. We're in the garden, planting summer herbs. It's so lovely in here.” A gentle image-gift came with her happiness. He saw a walled garden with conical yews marking out gravel paths. Vines and climbing roses painted the walls in bright colors. There was a broad lawn in the middle, which was unusual in Makkathran; it was trimmed so neatly, Edeard wondered what kind of genistar they used to chew it down. A snow-white statue of the Lady stood at one end, almost as high as the walls. She was smiling down on the novices in their white-and-blue robes as they skittered about with wicker baskets full of plants.

“Nice. Why don't you use ge-chimps to plant the herbs?”

“Oh, Edeard, you have got to start reading more of the Lady's teachings. The purpose of life is to achieve harmony with your environment. If you use genistars for everything, you establish a barrier between yourself and the world.”

“Okay.” He thought that was stupid but clamped down tight on the emotion for fear that Salrana would sense it. She was developing quite an acute empathy these days.

“Where are you?” she asked.

I'm patrolling Silvarum's markets.” He let her see the bustle surrounding him, showing her the rich stall displays.

“Arrested anybody bad?”

“No. They all run in terror from us.”

“Oh, Edeard, you feel sad.”

“Sorry.” He caught himself and winced. “I'm not. It's just boring, that's all. You know, I'm actually looking forward to my exams. This'll all be over after I take them. I can be a proper constable then.”

“I can't wait to see your graduation ceremony.”

“I don't think it's that grand. The Mayor hands us a pair of dark epaulets, that's all.”

“Yes, but it's at the Orchard Palace, and all the probationary constables from the city are there, and their families are watching. It's a big event, Edeard. Don't knock it.”

“I wasn't really. Do you think you'll manage to get to it?”

“Of course I will. Mother Gallian approves of formal functions like that. I've already told her you're graduating.”

“Hey, those exams aren't easy, you know.”

“You'll pass, Edeard. I asked the Lady to give you simple questions.”

“Thanks! Can you get out this weekend?”