Tanith Lee - Claidi Journals 01 (20 page)

“You’ve said this before. Look what happened.”

“Do you
know”
I asked him, “about the
Law
?”

“Yes. We re foreigners, they can gripe to us. I know‘ all of it and it’s—” He said a word I hadn’t ever heard before.

“Well,” I faltered, “then you see—”

“Claidi,” said Argul. “Do you really believe two Dice rolling about and some old books of rubbish can tell a whole city to live like this, in terror? You saw those kids over there. And the rest of them. Dice aren’t wicked. Books aren’t. People can be.
People
caused this.” Something clicked in my mind. I can’t describe it any other way. I stood speechless.

“Claidi—”

“Wait… just a moment—oh—”

And he did wait. He likes me, too. He thinks I have a right to scrabble around, trying to think for myself.

Then I spoke to him
very
fast. He listened.

When I’d finished, he said, “Claidi, I wish you were a fool. It’d be easier.” The kids were playing games on the grey square despite the rain—running about and screaming with joy.

The adults, mouths full of chocolate, didn’t stop them.

Oh, I can see now why Nemian went mad and played about so much when he got out of this place.

I feel sorry for Nemian, and his exquisite moon-wife.

Mehmed and Ro were standing near in the rain, wet and nosy.

“All right,” Argul said to me. “Try. But if not—”

I shook my head.

Then he caught me and kissed me. Through that
beard
. And even so… (They jeered, whistled, called out “Hultai chura!” Which means Leaders sweetheart. That was far away. They fell silent, tired.)
I’m
writing this now in such a hurry. I saw love in the “glass charm.” You could miss it so easily. Yet its so vast. Its miraculous. Just like how I found him, walking into that square, as if I had to.

And even if I fail tonight, if I die, I’ll have that kiss to keep.

It isn’t like being scalded. Its like having wings.

FIREWORKS

When I met Ironel in the Room, at midday, she looked me over and immediately said, “I don’t remember that ring.”

“My mother, Twilight Star, left it for me. Princess Jizania passed it on.”

 

“Is it a diamond? What a barbaric setting. But, I like it. Its like… a star. How fitting.”

“Thank you.”

“She must have loved you,” said Ironel regretfully.

I don’t know if she did, or even if she was called Twilight. Argul gave me the ring, which the Peshambans returned to him. And he
d
o
e
s love me. And I know. (And the ring belonged to
his
mother, so its almost not a lie.)

I watched very carefully as Ironel did the noon reading and spoke more awful Law I’m not even going to put down.

Leaving for that walk, I’d been praying Ironel would continue doing this for a long time. Now, as the business ended, I said, “Madam, you should go back to bed. You look so ill.” She didn’t. She looked repulsively healthy in her iron-old way.

And she narrowed her eyes at me.

“Do I, Claidissa? Indeed.”

“As you say, madam, you’ve trained me for this. It’s my job now. I’ll take over.” Remember how I described the alligators? Those great long mouths of teeth? Well, that was how she smiled. Her mouth seemed to undo her face in two pieces. And her poisonous eyes were bright.

“Ah, Claidissa. That would be kind. Two or three days in my bed—that should set me up again. And yes, you re so wise now in the reading of the Law. After all. Perhaps I needn’t return.” I hadn’t been sure. I mean, it was only about an hour ago I’d really thought of it. And even if I was right, this might still be some plan of hers to hurt me. It was a chance I was going to take.

The same as when I shouted at the “bandits” that I’d bite off a nose before I’d give in. I
won’t
be stopped. Not anymore.

I bowed low to her.

“I think, lady, I’ll just stay here in the holy Room. Make myself more familiar with the wonderful books and things.”

“Do, Claidissa.” Then she did up her face again. She said, her voice suddenly hollow and ancient, “I’ve waited so many years for this hour.”

And she turned and stalked out, her cane rapping Tike shots on the floor.

One huge wave of panic.

I ignored it. Sometimes its all you can do.

“This Room is freezing,” I yakked to the nearest slave. The Room wasn’t. If anything, it got too hot from the lamps. “Fetch me two or three lighted braziers.”

==========

After I had the braziers in, burning away roastingly, I sent the slaves out. I had about seven hours until sunset. And if I was truly successful about this, some extra hours until midnight.

Would she suddenly come back, “Oh I’m so much better!”? Somehow I really didn’t think so. She’d had enough of this, after fifty years. And that means she must have had enough of herself too.

Because if I was right…
If
I was…

She’d kept telling me I’d mastered the Law. Well, now I
would
.

==========

At the House, I’d been used to hard work. And this was. Climbing up the movable stepladder, getting down all the top boxes, then the lower ones, kneeling to get the lowest. Making sure I put them all back exactly as I’d found them. Well, not quite.

Once or twice I went out into the room outside the Room, mostly to cool down. There was a window, and I was faintly surprised, because the grey day changed. The clouds went blowing off slowly down the River. The sky turned palest blue.

That was good. I could check on sunset better.

No slaves loitered. Outside, the corridor leading to Ironel’s apartment was empty—almost. I could just see my white guards rifle propped up there as he waited with my slaves.

The Room was scorching. It was like being in an oven. But I went on with my work.

When I walked into the outer room later—and the western window was starting to flush, and the sun was actually there, gleaming low onto the River—I had the sense to stop.

I just stood in the Room then, haughty and poised, and waited for the slaves of the Law to appear.

They did, dead on time. They couldn’t ever risk being late.

I could already hear noises in the egg-cup things that held the Dice. They were warming up to spin.

Partly, I’d had a last fear she might come back simply to watch me. She hadn’t. If she had, that might have meant I’d been wrong. Or maybe not. I’ll never know about Ironel, or Jizania, come to that. Maybe they felt they couldn’t change but knew that, in choosing me, they’d selected someone who wouldn’t put up with it, and that I’d do what I have,

I hope they thought that, for their sakes.

The slaves filed in, and we all stood religiously in proper awe.

And the Dice chugged and spun. And stopped.

Now was the moment.

I walked over and examined the Dice with care. Then I hesitated in thought. Then I went to the three old books. I rustled about in them, peering, shaking my head. I frowned. Pompously I spoke.

The slaves wrote everything down.

There was one difference.
I
gave them the numbers
and
the names, so they didn’t have to look them up in the boxes. I’d chosen these numbers and names earlier. The slaves didn’t argue.

 

Now I can’t even recall all the things I said. Or can I? Claidi’s Law…

One man had to go and buy all the badly made pots some woman had been making and tell her they were fantastic. And another man had to go and light all the candles in his house and then ask all his friends to dinner. And then they had to ask him back.

I told a woman that she must fall in love, I remember that. And six separate families I told to dress their children in loose clothes and then play with them.

I told two men to leave the City and buy plants, and some animals, and bring them back and let people see and look after them. And another couple to organize a way of making gardens and orchards.

Two or three were ordered to find something really funny and laugh at it.

Not that brilliant, I admit. But the Law that sunset was no more stupid than it had been before, and it might not do so much harm.

No one challenged me. The slaves went sloping off with the orders, and when they were gone, I shut the door of the Room again and finished my work.

Seems to me, I’ll often dream about it: Carrying all those black boxes to the braziers and tipping in all the cards with names and numbers, and watching them burn so brightly and then vanish forever.

Or maybe I’ll dream more about all the pages I tore, every single one, from the precious books, the only ones in the City—as Ironel had kept on telling me. Page after page of tough parchment, which sometimes burned with a weird brown flame.

Sparks flew up to the ceiling, like Argul’s magic, or the Peshambans’ CLOCK.

My arms and back ached. My throat was sore and my eyes were smarting from smoke.

I was hungry too, although not very.

Finally, it was finished. And then I did the very last thing.

I took a burning wick in its holder out of one of the lamps and carried it over to the Dice. And carefully and thoroughly, I burned off every number painted on them, until each of the sixteen sides was just a smudge. They could spin all they liked. It wouldn’t mean a thing.

Then I burned a message in the black wall, burned it so it went white and was easy to see and hard to get rid of.

It said:

This is the Law of the Wolf Tower: There is to he no MORE Law.

Under which I wrote my name:
Claidissa Star
.

Then I thought, WHAT HAVE I DONE???

But it was too late. So I picked up my gold bag with this book in it, and ten ink pencils and pen-things I’d stolen from the Tower, left the Room and the other room and walked down the corridor. My slaves were at the end as always, and the guard in white with the rifle. I had the feeling they’d all been asleep.

It was full night. The windows were black, but I could see stars over the City.

 

I knew the way to the nearest lifter. The slaves and guard padded with me. Actually, there were seven slaves now. Increased, no doubt, because
I’d
read the Dice.

“I think I’ll take a quick walk before the midnight Law,” I chattily told them. So we all piled in the lifter and down we jumbled to the ground floor.

When we got to the quite small door by which I usually went out, some odd sounds were ringing over the City.

The slaves didn’t do anything, but the guard took firm hold of his rifle.

“Its all right,” I said to him. “Its only music, and someone singing.” Had I told someone to sing? Probably.

Elsewhere, barking—dogs? I’d never known there were dogs here. And then laughter, quite a lot of it.

Many windows seemed alight. Or brighter, warmer. Something.

I said loudly to the seven slaves, “You stay there, please. Sit down. You should relax.” And they sat in a row on a bench by the door. Then I said to the guard, “I’ve always so admired that rifle. May I look at it?” And the fool gawked at me and then handed the rifle to me. I was Wolf’s Paw, wasn’t I? I could have what I wanted.

The rifle wasn’t with me for long, though. I turned and gave it to Argul, who was now standing there just beyond the doorway, as arranged.

“You took your time, Claidibaabaa.”

“I warned you. It took ages.”

“You’re ready now?”

“Yes.”

Argul’s disguise was gone. He looked… there wasn’t time to look.

Argul pushed the guard quite gently back into the Wolf Tower. The guard seemed convinced he’d wake up in a minute.

Until Argul shut the door on him.

Ro and Mehmed were already dragging me onto a horse— difficult in the armored City dress—but I made it. (And the dress split.) “Sirree?” I whispered, “Sirree, you
are
Sirreee…” And Sirree blew down her velvet nose at me.

Then Argul was also up on his horse, and we were riding so fast, like the night itself, all made of black horses, racing.

I looked back once. The Tower door was still shut. Nothing seemed to be happening there.

And as we galloped, I glimpsed those gun-things that watched, swiveling after us—and I cowered each time—but nothing happened there either.

The City people had forgotten how. to think. They’d have to remember. I hoped the slaves would remember, too.

I tried to call to Argul as we raced neck and neck through echoing caverns of stone, the hooves of the horses sounding like hammers.

“There’s still a chance… if I misjudged her—Ironel—a chance she might just go on as she did before—”

“Can’t hear you, Claidi,” Argul shouted back. -So I had to answer myself. Yes, there was a chance Ironel might do that. If
I’d
guessed correctly, she hadn’t used the books or read the Dice for years.

She’d said any old number she thought of, and as for the Law, she’d just been making it up. And what she’d made up was pretty evil. (Except for Nemian and herself—letting him marry someone he must really have wanted, and sending him on a quest to fetch what Ironel wanted—me.) She was old and mad. But then again, she knew—I’d swear she did—what I was going to do. She left me no choice. Scaring me, making me angry. Leaving me on my own in the Room. I mean, she practically told me how to do it.

Even so, I longed for some sign
I’d
done the right thing.

We got out of the City much more quickly than I’d have thought possible. Perhaps its not so huge as I believed. It had only seemed too big for me.

The starlit land rolled away, away to other places. Away to the Hulta camp, and Blurn and Teil and Dagger, where they were, far along the River, which was only a river. Away to somewhere where I could keep still and breathe and be. And where I can stop bothering you, my invented friend, who’s stuck by me and helped so much.

The starlit land. The Waste that isn’t.

We paused in some thin trees on a rise to give the horses a rest. (Sirree was terrific.) I kept asking myself, Did I do the right thing? (I keep asking that, still. What do you think?) But you see, I couldn’t stay if I had a chance of escape. And I couldn’t leave them as they were.
I’m trouble
, as Argul said (and as Nemian never knew). And by then, on that rise, it was well past midnight, the time of the Law.