Part 46 (2/2)

'Your bath is ready,' she said. 'It is the door at the end of the hall.'

Nish sank into the warm scented water with a sigh of bliss. After scrubbing himself until his skin shone, he hung his arms over the side of the tub, closed his eyes and the next he knew the servant girl was knocking on the door. 'If you would come to dinner, Mr Nish.'

Clean clothes were laid out on the end of his bed. Dressing hurriedly, he went down the hall to the stair, where another servant pointed him to the dining hall. This room was long, with panelled walls of dark timber and a steeple roof, also panelled. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace. A long table was set for five people.

Mira came in, wearing a gown of some clinging fabric that revealed a trim figure. Sitting at the head of the table, she indicated the chair to her right. 'Please sit down.'

He hesitated, for Yara and the girls had not yet appeared.

'I do not go in for pointless ceremony,' she said.

Nish sat, looked at Mira, and away. What was he to say? 'I am sorry,' he said, 'to hear about your '

'You did not know my man or my boys,' she said, not harshly. 'Let us talk of other things.'

Nish was generally comfortable with women of his mother's age, and Mira was nearly that, but there was something about her that tangled his thoughts and he could not think of anything to say. 'What would you like to talk about?'

'Anything but war! What are you, Nish? A warmonger like your father?'

'I am not. How do you know my father?'

'My mother corresponded with every person of note on the continent. I have continued that tradition. And even among the monsters of this world the name Jal-Nish Hlar stands out. But the son is not necessarily necessarily the father.' the father.'

'Do you travel a lot?'

'I do not travel at all. Skeets were first tamed in these mountains by my family, more than eleven hundred years ago. We have been breeding them ever since. It is my sole pleasure, and I exchange with like-minded people all over the world, as my family have done for thirty-five generations.'

'I never imagined such a thing,' said Nish.

'The Council of Scrutators think they own the world,' said Mira, 'but there are more powers, and older, than they know about.'

'What do you mean by like-minded people?'

'Is that the scrutator's son asking?'

'Of course not.' He flushed.

'I mean those who want peace rather than endless war.'

'But the lyrinx '

'They did not start the war, and their every peaceful overture has been brutally rejected.'

Nish was staggered. 'Are you saying that the scrutators want want the war to continue?' Another piece of a puzzle. the war to continue?' Another piece of a puzzle.

'Some do, or did those at the top. It suited their purpose in the early days, for it gave them control of the world. But control is slipping from their grasp. They cannot lose face by compromising, and the lyrinx no longer wish to. So we must fight until they are extinct, or we are. I do my small best to change that. What is your profession?'

'I was forced to become an artificer at the age of sixteen,' he said carefully, and as her face hardened he rushed out, 'but before that I was a prentice scribe to a merchant of Fa.s.safarn.'

'What name?' she interrupted.

'Egarty Teisseyre. Do you know him?'

'Only by reputation. He is honest enough, for a merchant.'

'I loved being a scribe,' he said wistfully. 'And I was a good one, too.'

'I suppose artificing was your mother's doing, to save you from the army.'

'So it seems, though it was a long time before I realised it. I hated hated being an artificer. I worked hard at it,' he added hastily. 'I did my duty, though I have little talent for that kind of work.' being an artificer. I worked hard at it,' he added hastily. 'I did my duty, though I have little talent for that kind of work.'

Yara appeared with the twins, and the talk went on to other matters. It was an uncomfortable dinner, with long silences, and when the girls began yawning uncontrollably Yara rose, saying, 'I will take my leave, sister, for I am quite as tired as they are. Good night.'

Nish rose as well but Mira said, 'Stay awhile, unless you are weary. It is not yet nine.'

'I napped in the bath and feel quite refreshed.'

'Would you care for wine?' The opened flask had been sitting on the table all through dinner but, as Yara had declined, Nish had felt out of politeness that he should do the same.

'I would love some,' he said. 'I seldom get the opportunity to taste good wine.'

'My man loved wine.' She s.h.i.+vered. 'Come, let's sit by the fire.'

Nish was not cold, but he took his wine cup and sat in the other chair.

'Ten years I have lived without my man,' she said. 'No man; no sons.' She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

Again he did not know what to say. They stared at each other.

'What was his name?'

'Chamfry, but I always called him Cham. It was my special name for him. Cham and I did our duty. I bore our first son when I was fifteen, the last three years later. I lost my man when I was twenty-two, my first son seven years after that. Each was fourteen when the war took them, one after the other. They were still children. That is my life, Nish. What is yours?'

Nish began on his tale from the moment he arrived at the manufactory. He told Mira everything, and with complete honesty for the first time in his life. He could not do otherwise, not to someone who had suffered as she had. Nish spoke of his difficulty with women of his own age that he found himself tongue-tied and speechless. He told her about his crude pursuit of Tiaan, her rejection, and everything that happened afterwards, all the way to Tirthrax.

The level in the flask went down. Mira opened another.

'I'm not a very nice fellow,' he said, a little tipsy, and proceeded to tell her every one of his failings, real and imagined.

Leaning forward, she topped up his cup. 'Go on with your tale, Nish. It quite takes me away from my own troubles.' She pulled her chair closer.

Nish went on with his story, from Tirthrax. She poured, he talked, she listened. It was a kind of confession. The drink had taken away his inhibitions and Nish poured out his entire life to her. He told her about his mother, Ranii, who took every care for his health and welfare but gave him not a second's praise, no matter how hard he worked to please her. 'She was a careful mother, but indifferent. Cold!'

'I was not like that,' she said, looking into the fire. 'My boys were no duty at all. I loved everything about them.'

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