Niall was almost relieved to see that they were not the grotesquely large pair of his dream, but only slightly larger than normal; it seemed to confirm that the dream had been merely a freak of his sleeping consciousness. When Simeon had sliced the web down to her feet, he pulled it free and threw it on the floor. It was so light that it scarcely made a sound. Niall was now able to observe that her feet were bare, and that around both ankles there were faint red marks.
“Now this, I think.” Simeon began to cut the slave tunic, starting from the neck. The scissors were obviously very sharp and as the fabric parted, Niall was able to see that, just as in the dream, the girl was naked underneath. A moment later, his heart contracted and the blood rushed to his cheeks. On the white flesh of the belly and thighs, there were a number of brown fragments that might have been damp autumn leaves.
He reached out and peeled one from her thigh.
“What do you think this is?”
Simeon took it from him and peered at it. “I’d say it’s a piece of seaweed.”
“Seaweed? Why should she be wearing seaweed?”
Simeon shrugged. “I’m damned if I know.” As he spoke, Niall experienced a curious sensation of two overlapping realities.
He pointed to the red marks around the ankles. “What do you suppose they are?”
Simeon studied them carefully. “Looks as though she’s been tied up. But it must have been for a long time, or the marks would have disappeared.” He peered at the space between her big toe and its neighbor; Niall could see they were connected by a thin web of flesh. “And she hasn’t had the operation to separate the toes.”
Remembering the words spoken in the dream, Niall asked: “I wonder what she’s called?”
But Simeon merely shook his head, looking blank.
Staring at the still face, Niall was tempted to probe her mind. But he decided to leave it until he was alone. “What do you think we should do with her?”
“I’d advise you to leave her until we know more about spider poison. It may simply work itself out of her system.”
A muffled sound, like a groan, came from Veig. He had been standing close to the door since they came into the room, leaning against the wall; Niall had been so absorbed in the girl that he had paid him little attention. Now he was shocked to see that Veig’s face was glistening with perspiration, and had become so pale that Niall wondered for a moment if he was about to lose consciousness. When he probed his brother’s mind, he seemed to plunge into a roaring confusion in which Veig’s heartbeats sounded like hammer blows. In this chaos, the borderline between reality and a nightmarish unreality had become almost indistinguishable.
Niall placed his hand on Veig’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Veig stared at him, but seemed hardly to recognize him. Then he looked across the room, and his eyes focused on the naked girl; a puzzled look crossed his face, as if she was an acquaintance whose name he had forgotten. A drop of sweat ran, unnoticed, down the side of his nose, and lost itself in his mustache. He began walking unsteadily toward the bed, his steps as heavy as if he were climbing a mountain. Niall and Simeon exchanged glances; Niall shook his head slightly, to indicate that he felt that Veig should be left alone. The girl lay there, naked, one arm hanging loosely by the side of the bed. It seemed to Niall that her breathing had deepened and become faster. Veig had halted two paces from the bed and was staring down at her; he was breathing through his mouth, and seemed to be in some kind of trance. Then he lunged forward, placing one outstretched hand on her forehead, one on her solar plexus. Simeon also started forward; but it was unnecessary. As Veig reached the bed, his knees buckled. His hands clawed at the air in an oddly confused way, then he collapsed on top of the girl. He landed so heavily that Niall was afraid he might suffocate her. Simeon obviously felt the same misgiving; he took Veig under both armpits and tried to lift him. Veig was too heavy; but he slid off the bed and rolled on the floor, coming to rest with his face upturned to the ceiling.
Niall glanced at the girl. This time there could be no doubt. She was breathing more deeply, and there were faint spots of color in her cheeks.
Simeon shook his head. “He shouldn’t have left his bed. He’s in a fever.” He opened the door; Niall was glad to see that Crestia was standing outside. Simeon said: “Get some servants and have him carried back to his chamber.”
Niall stooped beside his brother and placed his hand on his forehead. It felt surprisingly cool. A moment later, Veig opened his eyes, and struggled into a sitting position. When Simeon tried to restrain him, he shook off his hand impatiently.
“Let me alone. I’m all right.”
Simeon said: “You fainted.”
“No I didn’t. I just tripped and fell.” His voice was surprisingly insistent, almost angry.
Simeon said soothingly: “All right. You tripped and fell.”
A moment later, Crestia came into the room, followed by two muscular servants from the kitchen. As Veig began struggling to his feet, she tried to help him; he pushed her away angrily.
“I’m all right. Let me alone.”
The girl looked appealingly at Simeon. “The doctor says you should go back to bed.”
Niall touched his brother’s arm. “Please do as she says.”
The appeal had its effect. Veig nodded and walked toward the door, followed by Crestia. But as he went out, Niall noticed that he cast a glance back toward the bed.
Niall asked: “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“I think so. He’s suffering from some kind of recurring delirium. But it doesn’t seem too serious. I hope that girl can persuade him to stay in bed.”
Niall turned to Jarita, who was lingering in the doorway.
“Find my mother and ask her to go to my brother. Tell her that he must be made to rest.”
As he pulled the blanket back over the girl, he noticed that her breathing was so faint as to be almost unobservable, and that her cheeks were again without color.
Simeon said: “I’m going to the hospital. Are you coming?”
He hesitated, wondering if he should stay with Veig. Then he realized there was nothing he could do. “Very well.”
As they started along the corridor, Nephtys came to meet them. “Councilor Broadus wishes to speak to you, my lord. He’s waiting below.”
“I’m coming now.”
Simeon said in an undertone: “That man’s a terrible bore. Don’t let him waste too much of your time.”
Broadus was standing in front of the fire in the hall, warming his hands; beside him stood a small, bald-headed man whom Niall recognized as a Council member from Dira. As Niall approached them, both made a ritual gesture of obeisance. Broadus was beaming; he was evidently well pleased with himself.
“Highness, I have made a discovery of the first importance.”
“About Skorbo’s killers?”
“Yes, highness. I have found out where they were hiding.”
“Excellent! Where?”
“In a house in the slave quarter.”
Niall looked at the bald-headed man, who was shuffling uncomfortably; he remembered him as one of the less articulate Council members.
“And your colleague?”
Broadus said offhandedly: “Ah yes, Fergus. . . You remember Councilor Fergus?”
“Of course.” The bald-headed man bowed awkwardly. “And what part did you play in this discovery, councilor?”
“I. . . sp-spent the evening in the slave quarter, asking about strangers.” The little man had a slight speech impediment and even his bald head blushed as he spoke. “S-someone remembered three men and a woman who lived in a house near the river. The door was locked, but I managed to force the lock. The place was empty. . .”
Niall nodded. “It would be.”
“But there were signs that several people had been living there. And they were not slaves.”
“How could you tell?”
“They had too many clothes. Most slaves only possess one garment.”
The little man was obviously intelligent as well as competent. At this point Broadus — who had become distinctly restive while his colleague was speaking — interrupted. “They must have planned it all very carefully. They chose a house near the river because they know slaves are afraid of rats. I’ve been to look at it and I maintain these people were not slaves.”
“Good work. I shall commend you both at the next Council meeting.” The little man looked embarrassed, but Broadus glowed with satisfaction.
“Would you like us to escort you there, my lord?”
“Not now, thank you. There’s something else I have to do first. But there is something I’d like you to do for me. Go to the headquarters of the Spider Lord and ask to see Sidonia, the captain of the guard. Tell her to send guards to prevent anyone from entering the house before I arrive.”