Athli shook her head. ‘You mean the Scona business,’ she said. ‘Why, has there been a flare-up or something?’
‘You might say that,’ Gannadius replied. ‘Without boring you with details, we’ve got several hundred soldiers and a few high-ranking members of the Poor either dead or trapped on Scona, and everybody’s going around with very grim faces. As far as I can tell, it counts as a pretty serious setback, and there are all sorts of gloomy predictions about mass defections among the hectemores, reprisals, naval blockades, even invasions. It’s fairly fresh news and they’re doing their best to keep it quiet, but obviously it’s not going to do confidence in the Foundation any good at all, so bear that in mind when you’re discussing commission rates and franchise agreements; you’re probably in a much stronger bargaining position than you think.’
Athli raised an eyebrow. ‘Assuming I still want the agency,’ she said. ‘Is it serious? I mean, really? The last thing I want is for the Foundation to go under and leave me holding a fistful of outstanding letters of credit.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about it,’ Gannadius replied. ‘In the long run, it must come down to a battle of resources; and the Foundation’s a great big bank and Scona’s a little one. I’m not saying the Foundation could lose three hundred halberdiers and not feel anything, but if the worst came to the worst, they’ve got fifty men for every one of the Scona people. The main headache has always been the fact that they’ve got quite a few ships and we haven’t got any. In fact, thinking about it, perhaps that might have something to do with their wanting to set up an agency on the Island. Where else would you go if you wanted to hire a fleet of say fifty warships, cash in hand and no questions asked?’
Athli smiled. ‘The same thought had crossed my mind,’ she said. ‘Some considerable time after it crossed the mind of every ship-owner on the Island. They’ve been talking to each other for years, but the long and the short of it is, it’d cost too much compared with the actual amount of aggravation the Foundation gets from Scona. I don’t imagine that’s really changed all that much, no matter what your friends in the sackcloth tunics are saying. But thanks for the advice,’ she added, with a smile. ‘At the very least, it’ll leave them wondering how I ever managed to find out. From what I gather, they’re quite paranoid about secrecy and security.’
Gannadius pursed his lips. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said. ‘But it wouldn’t be the first time a mob of ill-mannered upstarts managed to bring down a proud and mighty nation, as we both know. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘that’s enough about affairs of state and high finance. How are Venart and Vetriz? And the Buezon sisters? And did you ever manage to get rid of all that magenta lace I managed to lumber you with?’
Absent friends and old times on the Island filled in Athli’s spare hour quite comfortably and pleasantly, and she was feeling happy and relaxed when she got up to go off to her meeting. But as she turned to leave, Gannadius said, ‘There’s just one other thing,’ and the tone of his voice was somehow disturbing.
‘Yes?’ she said.
Gannadius looked down at his feet, and then at the wall. ‘I know what you think about, well, what I do—’
‘The expressions “mystical claptrap” and “charlatan” do tend to spring to mind, but please go on.’
‘That’s fine,’ Gannadius said. ‘But I have a young student who seems to have a depressingly advanced level of natural ability as far as mystical claptrap and charlatanry are concerned—’
‘The key word,’ Athli said quietly, ‘being “natural”. Carry on.’
‘Quite. And the other day she had one of her extremely tiresome visions, and as usual came to me with it, and I saw it too. And before you ask, it wasn’t something useful like the winners of a horse race. It was more to do with an acquaintance of mine and your former employer.’
‘Loredan,’ Athli said without expression. Gannadius grimaced.
‘That’s not a name to go saying too loudly in these parts,’ he said, ‘as you well know. But yes, this vision did have something to do with Bardas Loredan, which is why I decided to brave your overdeveloped sense of humour and tell you about it. Do you want to—?’
Athli nodded. ‘So what was it?’
Gannadius closed his eyes for a moment. ‘The girl has a cousin, Ramo or some such name, who was with the raiding party on Scona. She saw him leaning over a gate, apparently on sentry duty or something like that; it was early in the morning, and he was looking tired and bored. That’s all she saw - I get the impression she’s seen the same thing more than once, which technically speaking is quite significant. But when she showed the vision to me, I saw something else. I saw this cousin Ramo leaning on his gate, but I also saw Bardas coming up behind this man, hitting him over the head with something, scrambling over the gate and hurrying away down a track. And that’s not the end of it,’ Gannadius went on. ‘She - my student - also saw a man on a hillside taking armour and clothes from the dead body of a Shastel soldier, and when I saw that part of it, the man was Bardas Loredan. And that’s about it,’ he finished lamely. ‘I thought I’d tell you, just in case—’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Athli said, and Gannadius saw that her face had gone white. ‘Is there any way - I mean, can I see this vision too? Or isn’t that possible for non-believers or whatever you’d call it?’
Gannadius shook his head. ‘I know it was Bardas,’ he said. ‘He seemed perfectly sound and healthy, but I wouldn’t go further than that. He took the dead man’s shirt and boots in preference to his own, which suggests at the least that he’s down on his luck. There wasn’t anything in what I saw that confirmed the place was Scona, but that’s where Cousin Ramo is, or was. In my opinion, the visions must be either the recent past or the immediate future, for that reason. You see, I do know for a fact that Bardas is on Scona. In fact, he’s been there for some time.’
Athli looked at him with cold fury in her eyes. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘And you didn’t think to tell me.’
‘It’s not like that, I only saw him for the first time quite recently. I know he’d been there a while because he had a house and a workshop, what looked like a fairly well-established business, something to do with woodworking; and that suggests—’
‘Yes, I see,’ Athli interrupted. ‘I’m sorry. So you’re saying he’s on Scona and probably in some sort of trouble.’
Gannadius nodded. ‘That’s what I make of it, anyway,’ he said. ‘And I thought - well, I’d better tell you. I know you were—’
‘Yes,’ Athli said. ‘Look, I must go. But thank you for telling me. I may not be able to stop by before I leave, so - well, keep in touch. How do I find the Secretary’s office, by the way?’
The door closed behind her, and not long afterwards Gannadius saw her from his window, walking briskly across the courtyard towards the Provost’s lodgings. He noticed that she’d forgotten to take her sword, and wondered whether he ought to send someone after her with it. He drew it from the scabbard, and saw that it wasn’t a sword at all, just a hilt and six inches of broken-off blade.
‘You did what?’ Niessa demanded.
‘I let him go,’ Gorgas repeated wearily.
‘But why? I told you—’
‘Because it was the only thing I could do in the circumstances, ’ Gorgas interrupted with a flash of irritation. ‘Think, Niessa. He was standing over me with an axe in his hand; I’ll swear he was this close to taking a swing at me.’
‘Rubbish.’
‘You weren’t there.’ Gorgas shivered a little. ‘Come on, look at the alternatives. If I’d tried to make him come back with me, either he’d have killed me or I’d have killed him. Either way, it wouldn’t have achieved the required objective. It wouldn’t have made things better. Agreed?’
Niessa frowned. ‘You had your escort with you, didn’t you? Four against one—’
‘Oh, sure.’ Gorgas sighed. ‘Three squaddies and me against the longest-surviving law-fencer in the history of Perimadeia, in a cramped room where numbers wouldn’t have helped anyway. It’s certain sure he’d have killed one or two of them. It wasn’t a military operation, Niessa, it was a private family matter. Soldiers would only have made things worse.’
‘It was Bank business,’ Niessa replied coldly. ‘The whole object of the exercise was to neutralise a threat to the Bank’s security. To that extent, yes, I’d rather you’d killed him. Then at least he wouldn’t be wandering about just asking to be grabbed and used against us as a hostage.’
The strain of Gorgas keeping his temper was almost audible. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you didn’t mean it. Look,’ he went on, relaxing a little, ‘the object was to get him out of harm’s way, right? Well, that’s what I’ve done. This time tomorrow he’ll be on a ship, heading off somewhere a long way away, probably somewhere they’ve never even heard of Scona. Problem solved, no violence and everybody’s happy; we may even have started him thinking that maybe we’re not so bad after all. You’d never have got that result if you’d had him dragged in here against his will.’ Gorgas leant forward. ‘And there’s one other advantage that I’ll bet you haven’t even thought of.’
‘Really? Do tell.’
‘It’s simple. My confounded niece. If Bardas has gone away, we can let her go. I mean, she can’t very well kill him if he isn’t here, can she?’
Niessa’s expression confirmed that no, she hadn’t even considered that. It was an interesting moment.
‘It’s what I do best,’ Gorgas went on. ‘I take a problem and I turn it into an opportunity to solve a couple more problems. Of course, it means you do have to be able to see the bigger picture and think in the longer term. But if my life stands for anything, it proves that there’s no problem so bad it can’t be sorted out somehow, even if it’s later rather than sooner, provided you never ever give in. Like Uncle Maxen used to say: never surrender while you’ve got one man still on his feet, you never know what may turn up.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘I hate the sea,’ confessed Bardas Loredan, clinging to the rail with both hands as the
Fencer
slid over a small wave. ‘Or at least I hate being on it. Comes of being a woodworker, I suppose.’
‘Really? And how do you make that out?’
‘I know a bit about wood,’ Bardas replied. ‘With particular reference to its tendency to rot, split, warp, fret, feather and just plain bust. And the thought that the only thing separating me from certain death is one inch of pine, probably the cheapest grade they could lay their hands on—’
‘Relax. The ship isn’t going to sink. It’s a good ship.’
Another small wave hit the good ship and wobbled it a little. Bardas lurched, nearly lost his footing and hauled himself back upright, his fingernails leaving little marks in the rail timber. ‘I think we should turn back,’ he said. ‘While we still can.’
‘Don’t be silly. If you’re going to be like this all the way there—’
‘It’s all right for you,’ Bardas grumbled, his eyes shut. ‘Though come to think of it, I can’t see why you’re acting so superior. I mean, what the hell do you know about boats anyway? You’re just a carpet and cushion merchant, and before that you were nothing but a clerk. I can picture you turning up your nose at the sea the first time you saw it because the colour didn’t go with the rocks.’
‘Right. And you’re a farmer turned soldier turned lawyer turned bowyer. All of them occupations that call for an intimate knowledge of seafaring. Bardas Loredan, the human dolphin.’ Athli yawned and stretched her arms wide. ‘Though it’s true, we did do our fair share of shipping disputes. But you weren’t the one who had to read through the pleadings, with all those loathsome, incomprehensible technical terms. Bowsprites and luggers and mizensails and I don’t know what else. Why they can’t say “the bit of flappy cloth that hangs off the middle stick thing” like everybody else beats me.’
Bardas nodded. ‘Talking of which,’ he said, ‘one thing I could never fathom, though I never mentioned it for fear of showing my ignorance, was why all that interminable paperwork was actually needed. After all, the whole thing was settled by three minutes’ violence, so what the hell was the point of all those carefully worded petitions and statements and rejoinders and surrejoinders you spent your time writing? It was all so meaningless, you know?’
Athli looked at him in surprise. ‘You’re joking,’ she said. ‘Do you really mean to say you didn’t know? All that time, and all those fights?’
‘If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking,’ Bardas replied, nettled. ‘So, are you going to tell me?’
Athli giggled. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I just find that - well, anyway. The point is, before a case was permitted to go to trial, the parties had to show the court - that means the judge. You remember the judge? Man in a black dressing gown sat up on a bench at the back of the hall.’
‘I may have noticed him one or twice,’ Bardas conceded. ‘I thought he was some sort of referee, to make sure there was no cheating.’
‘He was that as well. But the other part of his job was going over the pleadings to see if there was really a case to answer. Otherwise, the system would have broken down into people using the courts as a place to fight duels to settle private grudges, rather than serious commercial and criminal issues.’
‘Right,’ Bardas said. ‘I see. And in all the years we worked together, did a judge ever throw out a lawsuit for, what was it you said, no case to answer?’
‘No,’ Athli admitted. ‘Which goes to show how well the system worked,’ she added gamely.
Bardas laughed. ‘And the rest,’ he said. ‘But honestly, I had no idea. Was it difficult?’
Athli nodded. ‘Very,’ she replied. ‘And complicated, and time-consuming and boring. What do you think I did all day, sat around combing my hair?’
‘I never realised,’ Bardas said. ‘All that work, and all you ever got was five per cent. It doesn’t seem right, somehow.’
Athli looked him in the eyes. ‘I didn’t have people trying to kill me,’ she said. ‘I never had an argument with the way we split money. But no, I can believe you didn’t realise. The truth is, if you’re not prepared to kill people and risk getting killed yourself, you have to work damned hard to earn a living in this cruel, hard world.’