“Gendra, if you will?” Tharius was on his feet, escorting die woman out, pulling the door almost shut behind them. Kesseret heard him in the outer room. “Have you no sensitivity at all? By Potipur’s teeth, woman. At least let her recover!”
“I was told she was little injured,” the Dame Marshal snarled, aggrieved. “The Ascertainers said she seemed to feel little pain. Had it not been for the infections, she would have been long since healed.”
“Let them do to your hands and feet what they did to hers, Gendra, then tell me if you consider yourself little injured. Let your hands and feet swell to twice their size in the winter caverns, let you bum with fever! Would you have been happier if your blasted Ascertainers had broken her? Made her whimper for mercy? Made her confess to something she hadn’t done in front of a roomful of fliers? Would that have satisfied you, made you sympathetic?”
“Why should I be sympathetic? It was she who housed the conspirator.”
“Oh, pfah, Gendra. Conspirator! Don’t talk nonsense. Only the Talkers profess to believe that, and even they doubt it. You owe the lady Kesseret your thanks. Don’t you understand she protected us all by her demeanor? If it weren’t for the lady Kesseret’s courage, the entire Chancery might be under siege by some thousands of paranoid Talkers. By all three gods and their perverted offspring, Dame Marshal, but you’ve more gall than good sense.” He heard himself raging and didn’t care. Let her make what she would of it.
Stiffly, she answered. “I would not have come if I had thought she would not welcome-”
“She may understand the necessity of what you did to her, but for the love of Potipur, don’t expect her to welcome your visits now.”
This was a word too much. Gendra snarled, “She’d better welcome them if she intends to go back to the Baris Tower as Superior under my orders.”
He did not relent. “Of course she goes back to the Baris Tower. And you’ll let her alone until then and not harass her after she’s returned. I swear to you, Gendra, you’ve laid an obligation for vengeance on me already. Don’t make it worse.”
“Why you, Tharius? Hmmm? What is she to you?” It was both a sneer and a threat.
“An old friend and my cousin-oh, yes, Gendra, my cousin. Though we must perforce set aside family relationships when we receive the Payment, those of us who have family members also receiving the Payment are blessed with kin who remember us as we were. My cousin, I say it again. Also a loyal member of the service. That’s what she is to me and should have been to you, if you’d forget your damned Tower discipline for a moment and think of people … “
Their voices dwindled away down the corridor. Into the silence behind them the sound of the flat-harp flowed; water music, a few tones repeated over and over in differing orders. Rippling. Lulling. Martien was covering the anger with calm, washing the pain away.
Tharius shouldn’t have spoken so. He shouldn’t have angered Gendra. He shouldn’t ever do anything to make her angrier or more suspicious. And yet Kesseret warmed at his words, at his defense of her. For a little time she forgot the conspiracy to which her life had been given and let the waters of surcease wash around her.
After a time, the lady slept.
17
Six stone courtyards separated the library wing from the Bureau of the Towers, each succeeding each through long, echoing corridors lit by occasional oculars that spilt dim puddles of watery light onto the clattering stone. Jorum Byne, majordomo to the Dame Marshal, led the procession, the long neck of the single-stringed viol held against one shoulder as he plied the bow with his right hand, whoom, whoom, whoom. Two functionaries followed after, laden with documents and dispatch boxes. Then came Gendra herself, her teeth grinding endlessly in time with the viol, and last her personal servant, Jhilt, in a shankle, shankle of chains and rustle of stiff fabrics. Jhilt was a Noor slave from the lands north of Vobil-dil-go. There was no reason for her to wear chains. Though her personal duties in providing various kinds of pleasure for the Dame Marshal were not pleasant for her-were, indeed, often quite painful-escape from behind the Teeth was impossible. Still, she wore chains. Gendra Mitiar liked the sound of them, finding them even more pleasing in that there was no reason for them at all.