Part 34 (1/2)

The messenger nodded. ”If the younger brother survives the widow,” he said, ”there would, under intestacy law, be an equal division of the estate. However, if Gignomai predeceased...”

Marzo smiled warmly. ”Which he did,” he said. ”Luso, then Gignomai, then Pasi last of all.”

The messenger's eyebrows went up. ”You'd be prepared to certify that?”

”As Lord Chief Justice,” Marzo said, ”sure. In writing. We made a thorough investigation of the scene, and found incontrovertible proof that the deaths took place in that order. There's a report somewhere,” he added, with a vague wave of his hand toward the stack of paper on the windowsill-receipted bills from the factory, as it happened. ”You don't mind if I don't dig it out right now, do you? We're a bit behind on our filing, to tell you the truth.”

”No, that's perfectly all right,” the messenger said quickly. ”All I need is a signed certificate from the Chief Justice.”

”Lord Chief Justice,” Furio murmured, as Marzo uncapped his inkwell and reached for the nearest piece of paper, turned it over and found it had been written on already and scrabbled about until he found a blank sheet.

”Of course,” Marzo said, as he wrote, ”there are certain implications. I'm sure I don't need to explain.”

The messenger shrugged. ”Just to clarify,” he said.

”Of course.” Marzo laid his pen down carefully. ”You see, it occurs to me that this certificate I'm writing for you now won't actually mean anything in a court of law, for example, unless your government recognises its validity.”

The messenger blinked. ”I'm sorry? I don't quite...”

”Oh, I think you do,” Marzo said. ”Let me make it easy for you. If your government recognises that this colony is now an independent state, with the right to appoint its own officers, such as the Lord Chief Justice, for example, then this certificate is a valid instrument and can be relied on in a court of law. But if your government doesn't recognise us, and reckons we're still just a bunch of rebels, then this piece of paper is worthless and no use to you whatsoever.”

The messenger nodded, very slowly. ”I think I see what you're saying,” he said.

”Now obviously,” Marzo went on, ”you're just a messenger, you haven't got the authority to recognise us as an independent nation. But it seems to me, if the met'Ousa take their inheritance claim to court, and the court accepts this as a valid certificate, then by implication, the court, and the government it represents, must also be recognising our independence. In other words, if your met'Ousa want the met'Oc money, we want this country for ourselves. Now that's fair, isn't it?”

The messenger hesitated for quite some time. ”There's also the matter,” he said, ”of the met'Oc a.s.sets in this country. We were led to believe that these a.s.sets were quite substantial. Land, a house.”

Furio and Marzo looked at each other. ”I'm afraid you may have been misled,” Marzo said. ”The house burned to the ground, along with all the contents.”

”I see,” the messenger said quietly. ”The land.”

”Death duties,” Furio said. ”Just about covered what was due. It's now in public owners.h.i.+p.”

”Of course,” the messenger said, in a rather brittle voice. ”You might just certify that as well, if it's no trouble.”

”No trouble at all,” Marzo said, and picked up his pen.

Later, when the messenger had gone back to his boat and was halfway across the bay, Furio said, ”Do you think we ought to tell him?”

Marzo shook his head. ”Better not,” he said.

”I think we should,” Furio said.

”Better not,” Marzo repeated firmly. ”Justice is all very well, but my job's keeping the peace. Besides, Gignomai belongs to us now. The less any of us dwells on the past, the better for everyone.”

Furio looked at him, then nodded. ”Yes, Lord Chief Justice,” he said.

There was a particular kind of weed that grew well in ashes. It grew fast and tall, and was so bitter that even the rabbits and goats left it alone. It had a thick brown stem and a wispy pale red flower, and the site of the met'Oc house was covered in it, so that nothing was visible apart from the patch that Gignomai kept clear, where the bay window used to overlook the gates of the hall. There, to the remaining stub of wall, he had fixed five iron plates, with the names of his parents, brothers and sister, including all their t.i.tles and honours. It was his custom throughout his life to lay lavender blossom under these plates on the anniversary of the Great Fire, as it had come to be known.

On the fifth anniversary, he met Marzo coming up the track as he was coming down. Marzo was carrying a sheaf of flags and wild lilies, the kind that grew on the riverbank a couple of hundred yards upstream from the ford.

”Paying my respects to your brother,” Marzo said. Gignomai didn't ask which one. He grinned.

”It's a free country,” he said.

Marzo pulled a slight face. ”You?” he said.

”Same sort of thing.” In his left hand, he held the brush hook he'd been using to cut back the fire-weed. ”I'm sure Luso would appreciate it,” he said.

”I doubt that very much,” Marzo replied cheerfully. ”Still, he's got no say in the matter, so I can do what I like.”

Gignomai smiled, then the smile faded, quickly and completely. ”I hear there was a s.h.i.+p yesterday.”

”That's right.” Marzo leaned against a tree. He was short of breath from the climb. ”The lads put a ball over her bows. Turned out they didn't want to land here after all.”

Gignomai nodded. ”Scarpedino tells me you had the captain over at your place for a while. Council was in session, too, so I heard.”

”Coincidence,” Marzo said. ”Nice man, their captain. I sold him a few bits and pieces, just to keep my hand in.” Which was true. All the met'Oc's gold and silver plate had melted in the fire, but gold and silver nuggets, even with chunks of slag and cinder in them, were still worth good money, and one day there'd be other s.h.i.+ps. ”We'd have sent down to you, only we knew you were busy, and we didn't really want the s.h.i.+p hanging about any longer than necessary.”

Gignomai dipped his head to acknowledge the validity of the reasoning. ”They didn't need to take on water, then, or anything like that.”

”They didn't ask,” Marzo replied, ”we didn't offer. I've got lads out watching, in case they try and put in down the coast some place. And I've put a guard on Boulomai's s.h.i.+p down at East Bay. Doesn't do to leave valuable stuff just lying around when there's strangers about.”

”That's all right, then,” Gignomai said. ”No big deal.”

”No big deal,” Marzo confirmed. ”How's Teucer, by the way? And the kid?”

Gignomai didn't like it when Marzo called young Luso ”the kid,” but Marzo never seemed to take the hint. ”Oh, they're fine,” he said. ”Last time I looked.”

Marzo pulled a sad face. ”Things are still...?”

”We keep out of each other's way,” Gignomai said.

”It's a shame, though, really,” Marzo persisted. He could tell Gignomai wanted to be on his way, so he was determined to spin the conversation out a little longer. ”She was really quite keen on you at one time, I always thought.”

”Maybe,” Gignomai said. ”But we both knew what we were getting into. I needed an heir, for the family name and all that garbage. She wanted a husband so she could own property and generally have a life. So long as there's plenty of broken arms and bashed heads for her to fuss over, she's happy enough. And making money, too,” he added with a grin. ”Not sure I could afford to have her patch me up, the rates she charges. Chip off the old block there, I reckon.”

”Thank you,” Marzo said sincerely. ”Coming from you, that means a great deal.”

”Well,” Gignomai said, injecting a little briskness into his voice, ”I mustn't keep you. I expect you've got a lot to do. Give my best to Furio. Haven't seen him at the factory for a day or so.”

”His youngest is teething,” Marzo said, ”poor b.u.g.g.e.r hasn't been getting quite as much sleep as he's used to. Of course, you'll know all about that.”

Gignomai gave him a cold look. ”Not really,” he said. ”We put Luso out to a wetnurse when he was at that stage. If there's one thing I can't be doing with, it's being woken up in the middle of the night.”

”Me too,” Marzo said. ”Nothing more annoying, specially if you have trouble sleeping. Wouldn't suit me, though, sending the kid away like that. Still, it wouldn't do if all families were alike. I'll tell Furio you asked after him.”

”Remind him I want a dozen men up here, day after tomorrow,” Gignomai said. ”We're re-opening the old clay pit, remember?” He sighed, and looked round. ”Only thing worth having up here any more,” he said.

”Oh, I don't know,” Marzo said. ”I heard somewhere you've got a nice flock of goats up here these days, and some pretty good pigs coming on, too.”