PaulHoffman

THEBEATINGOFHISWINGS

Contents

PartOne

Chapter1

Chapter2

Chapter3

Chapter4

Chapter5

Chapter6

PartTwo

Chapter7

Chapter8

Chapter9

Chapter10

Chapter11

Chapter12

Chapter13

Chapter14

PartThree

Chapter15

Chapter16

Chapter17

Chapter18

Chapter19

Chapter20

Chapter21

Chapter22

Chapter23

Chapter24

Chapter25

Chapter26

Chapter27

Chapter28

Chapter29

Chapter30

PartFour

Chapter31

Chapter32

Chapter33

PartFive

Chapter34

Chapter35

Chapter36

Chapter37

Chapter38

Chapter39

Chapter40

Chapter41

Appendixi

Appendixii

Formyeditor,AlexClarke,whogottherefirst.

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

appendixattheconclusionoftheworkinwhichtheymayexplaintheirpositions.

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

PARTONEIcamealoneandIgoasastranger.IdonotknowwhoIam,orwhatIhavebeendoing.

Aurangzeb

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

toliveintheirownnightmaresandwerenotconcernedwithhim.Hewasabletostayquietandendure.

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

topfloorandknocked.

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

paidanyattentionevenifithad.’

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

off.’

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

basementofthehouse.‘Goodlies,’saidKleist,

afterawhile.‘Damnedgoodlies.’

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

vitriol.Acidwaskindnexttoit.‘Yaaar!Blahbaa!Pluh!’

shoutedthebaby.

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

sevenhoursofbattlethatprecededthecollapse.Nowwaswhentheslaughterbegan.

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

endthepersonwhosetimeitusedtobeisusuallythelasttorealize.’

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

Redeemers,I’mgoingtobleedthem.’

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.

“Therewasanoldladywhoswallowedahorse.She’sdeadofcourse.”’

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

exaltedsocietyofhomicidalfreaksofnature,pulledaknifeandstabbedCaleintheheart.

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

MrHookethesignaltoload.’Withafewshoutsitbegan.

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

harddeathsbefore,andanger,butnothinglikethis,notfromsomeonewhowasstill,really,aboy.

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.

APPENDIXi

StatementonbehalfoftheUnifiedNations

ArchaeologicalSurvey(UNAS)

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!

PaulFahrenheit.ThePrioryCambria

18thofGerminalAD143.799

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

THEBEGINNING

Lettheconversationbegin...

FollowthePenguinTwitter.com@penguinukbooks

Keepup-to-datewithallourstoriesYouTube.com/penguinbooks

Pin‘PenguinBooks’toyourPinterest

Like‘PenguinBooks’onFacebook.com/penguinbooks

Findoutmoreabouttheauthorand

discovermorestorieslikethisatPenguin.co.uk

PENGUINBOOKS

PublishedbythePenguinGroupPenguinBooksLtd,80Strand,LondonWC2R0RL,EnglandPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.,375HudsonStreet,NewYork,NewYork10014,USAPenguinGroup(Canada),90EglintonAvenueEast,Suite700,Toronto,Ontario,CanadaM4P2Y3(adivisionofPearsonPenguinCanadaInc.)PenguinIreland,25StStephen’sGreen,Dublin2,Ireland(adivisionofPenguinBooksLtd)

PenguinGroup(Australia),707CollinsStreet,Melbourne,Victoria3008,Australia(adivisionofPearsonAustraliaGroupPtyLtd)PenguinBooksIndiaPvtLtd,11CommunityCentre,PanchsheelPark,NewDelhi–110017,IndiaPenguinGroup(NZ),67ApolloDrive,Rosedale,Auckland0632,NewZealand(adivisionofPearsonNewZealandLtd)PenguinBooks(SouthAfrica)(Pty)Ltd,BlockD,RosebankOfficePark,181JanSmutsAvenue,ParktownNorth,Gauteng2193,SouthAfrica

PenguinBooksLtd,RegisteredOffices:

80Strand,LondonWC2R0RL,England

www.penguin.com

Firstpublished2013

Copyright©PaulHoffman,2013

Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted

JacketillustrationbyPeterBergting.bergting@mac.com

Allrightsreserved

TypesetbyPalimpsestBookProductionLimited,Falkirk,Stirlingshire

ISBN:978-0-141-95772-2