She smiled sweetly. “We have already received notification, Family Man. Though we thank you for your courtesy.”
Bin shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Our chairman, that is, Estif g’Bayoar, thought maybe the Questioner would like to stay at the Fortress in Naibah? That is … “
“We’ll call upon the Men of Business if we need them,” she said, still sweetly. “Do shut the door on your way out, Family Man.” And she bent back to her work, ignoring him so pointedly that he felt himself growing heated beneath his robes and veils.
He opened his mouth to say something snappish, then closed it again. She glanced up. “Something else?” Her face was now quite stern, the smile gone.
“Where we put her! It’s important! She can’t be allowed to—”
The woman held up her hand, palm outward, warningly. “The matter is being attended to, Family Man. You need not concern yourself. Do you understand?”
It took him a moment to find his voice. “Of course, Madam,” he said, bowing. “Sorry to have disturbed you.” Then, stubbornly, he said, “Madam, have the Hags any information about the volcanic activity? The Men of Business believe there has been a troubling increase and we seek guidance.”
Her face grew very still. It was some time before she replied, “I will convey your concern to the Hags, Family Man. I cannot say at the moment whether they or the Hagions would find this matter within their purview, but I will inquire. Feel free to come again in a day or two, by which time I should know something.”
He turned and left, shutting the door behind him, making no sound. Once out on the street, at the bottom of the steps, however, he muttered to himself. “Damn, uppity, pushy, Hags. Damn women. Damn female pushiness. Damn.” He made a threatening gesture that drew the attention of a couple of Haggers who were sweeping the cobbles. Since male Haggers had, so to speak, foresworn being male, they wore no veils, and their faces were stern as they turned toward him, holding the thick, heavy broom handles like pikestaffs. At that, he came to his senses. Thrusting his hands into his sleeves, lowering his head so they could not see his eyes glaring at them through his veil, he walked steadily away. It was late. He had had a full day. He wanted to get home and go to bed!
“Damn Hagions,” he cursed the Goddesses. “Damn Haggers,” he cursed their followers. “Damn, damn Hags.” And their priesthood, as well.
Behind him, through one of the slit windows that looked out upon the temple stairs and down into the street, the young woman he had spoken to along with two older Hags watched him depart.
“So the Men of Business are worried about the smoke,” murmured D’Jevier.
“All that gray ash streaming from the scarp would be difficult to miss,” muttered Onsofruct. “All those valley farms wiped out over the last five or six years.”
“And the tidal wave that took six villages out along the Jellied Sea.”
“And the way the pillars are shifting off their bases in the crypts of the Temple. More than worrisome, I’m afraid. I still wish we could ask for help from the Council of Worlds.”
“We can’t,” snarled D’Jevier. “Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“With the Questioner coming, we have other things to worry about.”
“Obviously.”
So agreed, they stood where they were, watching until Bin’s skinny form disappeared into the dark.
29—Calvy and his Friends
Calvy had ridden up the river with bin, avoiding his carping by pretending to be asleep most of the way, and he left the boat at the Brewer’s Bridge. He took the precaution of removing his cockade before leaving the boat, his veils were impeccably impenetrable, and thus he had no difficulty whatsoever achieving his goal without being recognized by anyone at all—a good thing, for Family Men of good repute did not visit Consort Houses.
Calvy did. He had visited House Genevois at intervals for some years, and in the doing he had made a good friend of Madame and a better friend of Simon, who had taught him a number of interesting and provocative tricks. His current business with House Genevois was the procurement of a birthday present for his wife, a matter that Simon and Madame could accomplish more deftly than Calvy himself, given all the import regulations that he, as a Man of Business, was forced to uphold. The Consort Houses were more devious. Consorts had to give gifts; women expected it; and the Consort Houses helped their graduates meet expectations.