The commander of Niall’s personal guard was a statuesque, dark-haired girl named Nephtys. On the morning after the carnival, she woke Niall at dawn to tell him that almost none of the work force had reported for duty. When Niall went outside to investigate, he stumbled over a drunken man who was asleep in the doorway; half a dozen more were lying in the gutters. He told Nephtys that today should be proclaimed a public holiday, but that all workers would be expected to report at dawn the following day. The next morning, about a quarter of the work force presented themselves. Again Niall told Nephtys to proclaim a public holiday, but to add that anyone who failed to report the next day would be punished. But when, the following morning, only about a third of the work force appeared, Niall went to consult Dravig, and in less than an hour, unshaven workers were being driven into the streets by commanders with whips, and marshalled into squads by wolf spiders. From then on, the commanders and wolf spiders were again placed in charge of the workers, and there was no more absenteeism. Oddly enough, the workers themselves seemed perfectly content to return to the old arrangement.
Later that day he had been faced with a far more difficult decision. A dead man was found lying in an alleyway, the knife that killed him still embedded in his chest. In a basement nearby, someone noticed that the garments of a sleeping man were stained with blood. He was a charioteer named Otto, and admitted freely that he had stabbed his best friend in a fight over a girl.
Niall sent for Simeon and asked his advice. Simeon said that according to the law of the beetles, a man guilty of wilful homicide should be condemned to die at the hands of the headsman. Niall was shocked at the idea. But he agreed with Simeon that if the murderer was pardoned — on the grounds that he had killed his friend in a drunken brawl — it might set a precedent. There had been no case of murder in the spider city within living memory. Niall brooded on the problem for most of the day. Meanwhile the killer was locked in a temporary prison in an empty house — the spider city had no official jail, since most offences had formerly been punished by death. The idea of executing a fellow creature struck Niall as barbarous; the idea of building a prison and confining him for the rest of his life seemed even worse. He asked Dravig whether it would not be possible to send the man into exile in some distant place; Dravig pointed out that this would mean almost certain death; since remote areas were full of dangerous wild creatures. After a sleepless night, Niall was relieved to learn that Otto had saved him from making a decision by hanging himself in his cell. But when Nephtys brought him the news, he realised that he felt as if he had aged ten years since the previous morning.
During these first weeks as lord of the spider city, Niall seemed to devote most of his time to administration and planning. He was awakened at daybreak by Nephtys, and often received officials and councillors while he was eating his breakfast. He usually spent the rest of the morning touring the city and surrounding suburbs, deciding how best to employ his squads of workmen. (He estimated that repairs to the harbour would take five years.) In the afternoon he attended a meeting of the Council, which often continued until late in the evening. When he arrived home, he was usually too tired to stay awake for more than an hour; he listened politely and tried to stifle his yawns while Siris told him about the events of the day and about her domestic problems. More often than not, he fell asleep on a pile of cushions, and Siris covered him with a blanket, blew out the candles, and ordered the servant girls and musicians to tiptoe out of the room.
Yet this new life had its compensations. He had chosen for his palace an imposing building on the corner of the main avenue, directly opposite the headquarters of the Spider Lord, and a squad of fifty men worked from dawn to dusk repairing and redecorating its crumbling rooms. Siris was in charge of the household; Sefna, her sister, supervised the workmen. Dona took charge of the education of Runa and Mara. The women radiated contentment. So did Veig, who also lived in the palace. He had chosen a suite of rooms on the other side of the courtyard, where he could lead an independent existence. As the brother of the ruler, he was in an enviable position, obeyed by all the men and admired by the women. With his curly black hair and bright blue eyes, he was regarded as one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, and was constantly in the company of some attractive woman. It was rumoured that the hundred members of the Corps of Commanders had made a wager amongst themselves about which of them could persuade him into a more permanent arrangement. Veig seemed determined to give them all fair consideration before he made up his mind.
What Niall enjoyed most of all was to stroll through the streets at dusk and observe men and women as they walked arm-in-arm through the torchlit thoroughfares. The streets were always crowded at that hour; small groups of men sat on the pavement playing dice, while others brought their supper outdoors and ate it with their backs propped against the area railings. They no longer glanced nervously at the spider webs stretched over their heads. There was only one drawback. As soon as they recognised Niall, they knelt face downward on the ground, and remained in this position until he was out of sight. He tried issuing a proclamation that he wanted to be ignored, but it made no difference. Veig told him about a conversation he had overheard between two men, one of whom insisted that Niall was a magician, while the other preferred to believe that he was a god or some kind of supernatural being. Instead of being flattered, Niall felt saddened and depressed.
His dissatisfaction reached a climax on the day he announced his intention of returning to North Khaybad to bring back his father’s remains. The Council immediately passed a resolution that Ulf’s bones should be interred in a magnificent marble tomb in the centre of the main avenue. Then, in spite of Niall’s protests, they voted that Niall should be accompanied by a thousand armed men, and that their return should be greeted with a torchlight procession in which everybody would take part. As soon as Niall left the Council meeting, he sent a secret message to Manetho and Simeon, and the next morning they slipped out of the city and embarked on the ship that was waiting for them.
These were the thoughts that preoccupied Niall as he leaned on the gunwale and watched the shoreline fade into the sea. Yet his mood of depression now seemed an absurd piece of self-indulgence. The fresh breeze and the open sky filled him with a sense of freedom and excitement, and he found it hard to understand how he had ever allowed himself to become so frustrated and dissatisfied. None of the problems that had faced him in the past few weeks had really been insoluble. The real problem, he could now see, lay in the limitations of his own consciousness.
Veig came up on deck, chewing an enormous roast beef sandwich and holding a cup of mead in the other hand.
“There’s breakfast down below.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“No. I’d rather eat in the fresh air.” But his eyes strayed involuntarily towards the pretty, bare-breasted overseer, who was now consulting with Manetho.
Simeon was alone in the captain’s cabin, removing the backbone from a steaming broiled trout. The table was covered with dishes of cold meat, pickled vegetables, and jars of jam, marmalade and honey. Niall carved himself some underdone roast beef from a joint, and poured a cup of papaya juice. Simeon glanced up at him from under his bushy eyebrows.
“The Council are going to be upset when they find you’ve gone.”
Niall shrugged. “It can’t be helped. I didn’t want to take a thousand men and twenty ships.”
Simeon squeezed a lemon on his trout.
“They were only trying to please you. They hold you in great esteem.”
Niall said gloomily: “I know.”
Simeon shook his head. “You see, it’s the duty of a ruler to allow himself to be revered.” It was obvious that Simeon had been awaiting the opportunity to say this. “He’s not just there for his own pleasure. He’s there to give the people something to look up to. A happy country is a land with a ruler that everybody can honour and respect. That’s the way he serves his people.”