"Thank you, Your Eminence." Silk sat. "Thank you very much. I couldn't have gone to a better place." "Oh, you don't mean it. I can't blame you. Not at all, eh? Not at all. You've had a miserable time of it. I-ah-we know that, Quetzal and I. We realize it. But poor old - um-your predecessor. What was his name?"
"Pike, Your Eminence. Patera Pike."
"Quite right. Patera Pike. What. if we'd sent poor old Pike one of those rabbity little boys, ell? Killed and eaten him on the first day, in this quarter, eh? You know it now, Patera, and I knew it then. So I suggested to Quetzal that we send you, and he saw the logic of it straight off. Now here you are, hey? All alone. Since Pike left for-ah-purer climes? You've done a fine, fine job of it, too, Patera. An - ah-exceptional job. I don't think that's too strong an expression."
Silk forced himself to speak. "I would like to agree, Your Eminence." The words came singly and widely spaced, as heavy as waystones. "But this manteion has been sold. You must know about that. We couldn't even pay taxes. The city seized the property; I assume that the Chapter was notified, though I was not. The new owner will certainly close the manteion and the palaestra, and he may well tear them both down."
"He's worked hard, my dear," Remora told Chenille. "You don't live in the quarter, eh? So you can't know. But he has. He has."
Silk said, "Thank you, Your Eminence. You're very kind. I wish, though, that there were no need for your kindness. I wish I had made a success of this manteion, somehow. When I thanked you for assigning me here, I wasn't being polite. I don't really love this place-these cramped old, run-down buildings and so forth, though I used to try to make myself believe I did. But the people - We have a great many bad people here. That's what everyone says, and it's true. But the good ones have been tried by fire and remained good in spite of everything that the whorl could throw against them, and there's nothing else like them in the whorl. And even the bad ones, you'd be surprised-"
At that moment, Oreb fluttered into Chenille's lap with Musk's knife in his beak.
"Hey? Extraordinary! What's this?"
"Oreb has a dislocated wing," Silk explained. "I did it by accident, Your Eminence. A physician put the bone back in the socket yesterday, but it hasn't healed yet."
Remora waved Oreb's woes aside. "But this dagger, hey? Is it yours, my dear?"
Chenille nodded without a trace of a smile. "I threw it to illustrate a point that I was making to Patera Silk, Your Eminence. Now Oreb's kindly returned it to me. He likes me, I think."
Oreb whistled.
"You threw it? I don't want-ah-intend to appear skeptical, my dear-"
Chenille's hand flicked in the direction of the cabinet, and the wainscotting above its top boomed like a kettledrum. With its blade half buried in oak. Musk's knife did not even vibrate.
"Oh! O you gods!" Remora rose and went to examine the knife. "Why, I'd never- This is really most-ah-um - most…" He grasped the hilt and tried to pull the knife out, but was forced to work it back and forth. "There's only the single scar here, one-um-hole in the wood."
"I thought Patera Silk would prefer that I mark his wall as little as possible," Chenille told him demurely.
"Hah!" Remora gave a snort of triumph as he succeeded in freeing the knife; he returned it with a profound bow. "Your weapon, my dear. I knew that this quarter is said to be-ah-rough? Tough. Lawless. And I observed the broken table. But I hadn't realized… Patera, my - ah-our admiration for you was already very great. But it's-um-mine's now, well…" He seated himself again. "That's what I was about to remark, Patera. You may possibly imagine that we-um-Quetzal and I-"
His attention shifted to Chenille. "As this good augur knows, I am His Cognizance's-ah-prochain ami, my dear. Doubtless you are already familiar with the-ah- um-locution. His adjutant, as they would say it in the Guard. His coadjutor, hey? That's the-ah-formal official phraseology, the most correct usage. And I was about to say that we have been following Patera's progress with attention and admiration. He has had difficulties. Oh, indeed! He has encountered obstacles, eh? His has been no easy field to plow, no-um-quiet pasture, this manteion, poor yet dear to the immortal gods."
Chenille nodded. "So I understand. Your Eminence." "He ought to have come to us for-ah-assistance, eh? He ought to have appealed, frankly and fbrthrightly, to His Cognizance and to me. Ought to have laid his case before us, so to speak. Do you follow me? But we, still more, hey? We still more ought, to have proffered our assistance without any of that. Yes, indeed! Proffered the ready assistance of the Chapter, and-ah-more. Much more. And much sooner than this."
"I couldn't get in to see you," Silk explained somewhat dryly. "Your prothonotary kindly informed me that a crisis was occupying all your attention."
Remora wheezed. "Doubtless one was, Patera. Frequently it seems that my sole task, my-ah-entire duty consists of wrestling with an unending-um-onrushing and-ah-remorseless torrent of continually worsening - crises."
Blowers roared to the west, louder and louder as an armed Civil Guard floater roared along Sun Street. Remora paused to listen.
"It's our-ah-invariable policy with young augurs, Patera, as you must understand, to-ah-permit them to try their wings. To observe their first flights, as it were, from a distance. To thrust them rudely from the nest, if I may say it. You follow me? It is an examination you have passed very-um-creditably indeed."
Silk inclined his head. "I'm gratified, Your Eminence, although thoroughly conscious that I'm not entitled to such praise. This may be the best opportunity I'll have, however, to report-I mean informally-the very great honor that was accorded to our troubled manteion today by the-"
"Troubled did you say, Patera? This manteion?" Remora smiled all difficulties away. "It has been-ah- um-well, sold, as you say. But the sale is only a legality, eh? You follow me? A mere contrivance or-ah-stratagem of old Quetzal's, actually. The new owners-ah. The name is-the name…"
"Blood," Silk supplied.
"No, that's not it. Something more common, hey?"
Chenille murmured, "Musk?"
"Quite, quite correct. Musk, indeed. Rather a foolish name, hey? If I may put it so. Infants do not, as a rule, smell half so-ah-sweet. But this Musk has paid your taxes. That's how he got it. You follow me? For the taxes and some trifling amount over. These buildings are in need of-ah-refurbishing, eh? As you pointed out yourself, Patera. We'll let him do it, hey? Why not? Let him bear the expense, and not the burse, eh? Eventually he'll donate everything to us again. Give it all back to the Chapter, eh? A meritorious act."
Chenille shook her head. "I doubt-"
"We have ways, my dear, as you'll see. Dear old Quetzal has, most particularly. He's very good at it. His-ah- um-consequence as the Prolocutor of the Chapter. And his influence with the Ayuntamiento, eh? He has plenteous-ah-standing there even yet, never doubt it. An arsenal of pressures that he-ah-that we can, and will, exert in any such an eventuality as-ah-this present instance. As yours here on Sun Street, Patera."
Silk said, "Musk is no more than the owner of record, Your Eminence. Blood controls this property, and Blood is threatening to tear down everything."
"Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter. You'll see, Patera." Remora flashed his toothy smile again. "It will not occur- ah-come to pass. No fear. No fear at all. Or if it should, the old structures will be replaced with better ones. That would be the best way, eh? Rebuilt in a better style, and upon a more-ah-commodious scale. I must remember to speak to Quetzal about it tomorrow when he has had his beef tea."
Remora inclined his head toward Chenille. "He's quite fond of beef tea, is old Quetzal. Doubtless Patera knows. These things get bandied about, you know, among us. Like a bunch of-um-washerwomen, eh? Gossip, gossip. But dear old Quetzal should eat more, hey? I'm forever after him about it. A man can't live on beef tea and air, hey? But Quetzal does. Feeble, though."
He glanced at the clock above the sellaria's diminutive fireplace. "What I-ah-ventured out to inform you of, Patera Silk- You see, my dear, I'm terribly selfish. Yes, even after half a lifetime spent in the pursuit of-ah-sacrosanctity. I wished to inform him myself. Patera, you shall no longer labor alone. I said-um-earlier, eh? I assured you that your struggles had not gone unnoticed, hey? But now I can say more, as I-ah-most certainly shall. As I do. An acolyte, a youthful augur who only in the springtide of this very year completed his studies with honors-um. As you yourself did, Patera. I-ah-we are very aware of that. With a prize, I was about to say, for hierologics will arrive in the morning. You yourself shall know the joy of leading this promising neophyte down the very paths that you yourself have traversed with so much credit. You have two bedrooms, I believe, upstairs here? Please have the less-ah-vantaged prepared to receive Patera Gulo."
Remora rose and extended his hand. "It has been a great pleasure, Patera. A pleasure and an honor much, much too long delayed. And denied. Self-denial, indeed, and self-denial must have an end, hey?"
Silk rose with the assistance of Blood's walking stick, and they shook hands solemnly.
"My dear, I'm sorry to have disrupted your own interview with your-ah-spiritual guide. With this devout young augur. I do apologize. Our little tete-a-tete cannot have been of much interest to you, yet-"
"Oh, but it was!" Chenille's smile might well have been sincere.
"Yet it was brief at least. Ah-succinct. And now my blessing upon you, whatever your troubles may be." Remora traced the sign of addition in the air. "Blessed be you in the Most Sacred Name of Pas, Father of the Gods, in that of Gracious Echidna, His Consort, in those of their Sons and their Daughters alike; this day and forever, in the name of their eldest child, Scylla, Patroness of this, Our Holy City of Viron." "The new owner," Silk informed Remora with some urgency, "insists that any moneys above the operating expenses of the manteion must be turned over to him. In light of what transpired today at sacrifice-Your Eminence simply cannot have remained unaware of it-"
Remora grunted as he set aside the heavy bar. "You have a good deal here in need of repair, Patera. Or replacement.' Or-ah-augmentation. Items which this Musk will not-um-exert himself to rehabilitate. Your own-ah- um-wardrobe, eh? That would be a fair beginning. You might do-um-much. Many things. As for the rest, you tote up your own accounts, I take it? Doubtless you can discover many good uses for this-ah-merely presumptive surplus. And you have bon-owed various sums, I believe. So I'm-ah-we, His Cognizance and I, have been given to understand."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Oreb whistled. "Bad man."
Chenille put out her arm, and the bird hopped onto it "Not really, Oreb. Only a man deeply in love with his own cleverness."
A slight smile played about the comers other mouth as she spoke to Silk. "All that for a single manifestation by a merely minor goddess. For one not numbered among the Nine-didn't you say something like that in the manteion? I think I remember that."
Silk dropped the bar into place and turned to reply, but she raised a hand. "I know what you intend to say, Patera. Don't say it. My name is Chenille. That is to be a given, not subject to debate or qualification. You're to call me Chenille, even when we're alone. And you're to treat me as Chenille."
"But-" "
Because I am Chenille
. You don't really grasp these things, no matter how much you may have studied. Now sit down. Your leg hurts, I know."
Silk dropped into his chair.
"There was something else you wanted to say-not that other, which isn't really true. What is it?" "I'm afraid that it may offend you, but it isn't intended to offend." He hesitated and swallowed. "Chenille, you… you talk very differently at different times. Yesterday at Orchid's, you spoke like a young woman who had grown up in the streets, who couldn't read but who had picked up a few phrases and some sense of grammatical principles from better-educated people. Tonight, before His Eminence came, you used a great deal of thieves' cant, as Auk does. As soon as His Eminence arrived, you became a young woman of culture and education."
Her smile widened. "Do you want me to justify the way I speak to you, Patera? Hardly the request of a gentleman, much less a man of the cloth."
Silk sat in silence for a time, stroking his cheek. Oreb hopped from Chenille's wrist to her shoulder, then to the top of the battered library table next to Silk's chair.
At length Silk said, "If you had spoken to His Eminence as you spoke to me, he would have assumed that I had hired you for the evening or something of that kind. To save me from embarrassment, you betrayed your real nature to me. I wish I knew how to thank you properly for that, Chenille."
"You pronounce my name as though it were a polite lie. I assure you, it's the truth."
Silk asked, "But if I were to use another name-we both know which-wouldn't that be the truth as well?"
"Not really. Far less than you believe, and it would lead to endless difficulties."
"You're more beautiful tonight than you were in Orchid's house. May I say that?"
She nodded. "I wasn't trying then. Or not much. Not well. Men think it's all bones and makeup. But a lot is… Certain things I do. My eyes and my lips. The way I move. The right gestures. You do it too, unconsciously. Silk. I like to watch you. When you don't know I'm watching." She yawned and stretched until it seemed that her full breasts would split her gown. "There. That wasn't very beautiful, was it? Though he used to love it when I yawned, and kiss my hand. I did it sometimes. Just to give him pleasure. Such delight. Silk, I'm going to have to have a place to sleep tonight. I love your name, Silk. I've been wanting to say it all night. Most names are ugly. Will you help me?"
"Of course," he said. "I am your slave."
"Chenille."
He swallowed again. "I'll help you all I can, Chenille. You can't sleep here, but I feel sure we can find something better."
Suddenly she was again the woman he had met at Orchid's. "We've got to talk about that, but there are other things to talk about first. You do realize why that awful man came? Why you're getting an acolyte? Why that awful man and this Prolocutor are going to try to take your manteion back from Blood?"