The old woman frowned as she stirred the baby food into the cup. “We know. Some of them Mahahmbi women, some of them Haven women. New mothers, all.”
He decided on a stab in the dark. “Why women? It grows perfectly well on men’s blood.”
She turned, amazed. “Oh, does it now? What did you do? Bleed on it? Oh, I’ve wondered on that many times.”
“Wondered?” he exploded. “You mean you’ve never tried to find out? Never experimented with it?”
“Never,” she said solemnly. “Lichen is tapu. Our people destroyed some, long and long ago, then they made it tapu. Untouchable.”
Another stab, in not quite so deep a dark this time. “But evidently a man can live as long as he likes on women’s blood, eh?”
She stared at him for a long time, wordless. “This is secret, you know?”
“Oh, I know. But it’s an evil secret, Awhero. Answer me. A man can live as long as he likes on women’s blood?”
“Oh, man can live long, yes. Not forever. No. I think not.” She made a momentary clatter with cup and bottle and the hot water kettle, then added a dipper of cool water to the mix, tested it upon her tongue and filled a bottle.
“What makes you think not?” Aufors asked.
She put the nipple in the baby’s mouth. He pushed it away fretfully before finally accepting it, though reluctantly. Holding baby and bottle, she sat down, cocking her head. “If I tell you, you promise not to say Awhero told you? This is maybe forbidden knowing, but I am nosy old thing.”
He held up a hand, “I promise.”
“Well, then,” she said, “Well, then. We malghaste, we have ways to go in walls of houses, you know?”
“I know.”
“One of ways I go is in walls of Shah’s rooms, in palace. So, one day I am in walls, and guards bring in Old Friend, very Old Friend.”
“An old friend of the Shah?”
“Oh, yes. Old Friend Gazar, from one hundred years, two hundred years. So, Old Friend comes in, na, na, na, talk talk, no sense. Shah says, ‘How are you today, Old Friend.’ Old Friend goes on, na, na, na, sky is blue, walls are gray, nice walk, time for good roast mutton. No sense. So, Shah goes to locked cupboard, unlocks it, takes out small box, unlocks that. I am looking down on this, and inside is powder, like lichen powder.”
“You could see it?”
“Oh, yes. From inside walls, very clear. So, Shah puts powder in glass of wine, gives wine to Old Friend. Old Friend drinks.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, ho, here is this old man who got silly in head, no more mind than harpta. Here is old man who can’t follow orders. Here is old man two hundred tiresome years old. Here he is, needing woman’s blood every day or so, but he is no use to anybody. What you think happened?”
“What should I think?”
“What happened was, after Old Friend drinks, Shah talked to him, na, na, na, na. Time went by, then Shah asked him, ‘You all right, old friend?’ Ha! Old Friend did not answer. Only blinked, very, very slowly. Then Shah tried to lift Old Friend’s arm. Stiff. Like wood. Then Shah called guards and they picked him up, chair and all. They took him away.”
“Where? How?”
“Listen, I am telling you. So, from inside walls I watched, I followed. They went out palace gate, across desert, to that building out there.”
“The one with all the guards and the sand shutters?”
“That one, yes. I could not go to building, no cover for me, but I watched, and after time, they came back without Old Friend. So, Old Friend stayed in building. Then, I waited, listened while Shah talked to minister about other old men also tiresome, also due for ‘accident.’ Whatever powder is, is not P’naki.”
“P’naki!”
“You think P’naki is to stop plague. No. Real P’naki is long-life stuff. What you call P’naki in Haven is just . . . nothing. Distraction.”
Aufors thought this over. “What did they say killed him? More avalanches? More wild beasts?”