The Choir Boats (33 page)

Most frequently, she saw a woman her own age, in lambent silk,
with half-moons dangling from her ears and silver threaded through
her gleaming black tresses, walking in a garden.

Rehana?
Sally thought.
But then I must be dreaming into the past.
I don’t know. Such dark eyes she has, whoever she is. I wish mine were so
dark and fierce.

Only once did she find herself at the Sign of the Ear. The temple-monkeys approached her swishing their prehensile tails, staying
just beyond her reach, uttering low “chip chip” noises. She gazed at
the little blue flowers, the
sela-manri
, flower of repentance. With a
start just before she woke up, she realized what the flowers were:
Bixwort! Just like in the garden at home in Mincing Lane!

As Sally drifted in and out of her dreams, crew members spoke of
almost nothing other than her song.

“She is a
lail obos
, a Dolphin-singer,” many said. “A
tassna innan-osai
, a Moon-finder.”

“We have not had either for a century, not since the reign of King
Brusiminius,” said one of the A.B.s to his colleagues, “The last was
Matthias Laufer, who came as a child with the Hamburg Pietists.”

“Before that, how many?” replied a colleague. “Sippia Sillitate,
called the Sibyl of Qua, but she went mad. Deligence Nux, who
disappeared in a thunderstorm one night, during the time of Queen
Jillenicia, which is nigh three hundred years ago.”

Some murmured that Sally might even be the
sukenna-tareef
, the
Saviour.

“Heresy!” exclaimed others. “No human can be the Saviour. Sally
is
pash
, human like us. Only the Mother can save us and the Mother
needs first to be wakened at the Sign of the Ear! To say a
pash
could
be the Saviour is the apostasy perpetrated by the enemies in Orn!”

Reglum spoke to the McDoons about Orn.

“The Coerceries of Orn occupy most of Nearer Yount, the island
east of Yount Major,” he explained. “The four coerceries are each
ruled by its own tyrannulet. The Ornish are Rejectarians, because
they believe fulgination is a sin and that any attempt to go abroad
from Yount is an act against the Mother. The Ornish enslave those
who disagree.”

“Waking the Mother is but one of the necessities: the war between
her two sons must also be ended!” the captain added. “And the key
must be used to draw down the Moon, so the
fajet tindo
, the Serpent
of Rebellious Despair, can be defeated.”

“Strix Tender Wurm?” said Sanford.

“The same,” said Reglum. “Or so we believe.”

Sanford nodded and murmured, “‘It is not for you to know the
times or the seasons, which the Father has put in his own power.’”

At the Fences of Yount, the mist rolled back and there before
them was a great warship, as large as an East Indiaman, bristling
with cannon. The dolphins accompanying the
Gallinule
raced ahead
to frolic with the dolphins swimming round the warship. A whale
flanked each side of the warship, which was called the
Saker
. One of
the whales rolled over, revealing a massive fin. Its companion raised
a great tail out of the water, let it fall back with a mighty slap that was
more impressive than a cannon salute. There was much halloo’ing as
the
Gallinule
pulled along side. Much-needed supplies of fresh food
and water were rowed across to the
Gallinule
. The
Saker
’s captain
came aboard for dinner, and his ship’s mailbags were given to the
Gallinule
for delivery. He looked with wonder at Barnabas and the
rest of the McDoon party, partly because their pale skin was, well,
so pale, but mostly because they bore the key.

The
Gallinule
had run out of coal and sailed now with wind only.
The Fulginator was turned off, and the fulgination room locked
again. For the next ten days they sailed in the way ships do in Big
Land, by compass and chronometer. They weathered a storm, harsh
but natural. They sighted Yount Major on the second Prannish-day
of Cole-month, in the year 351 since the Blessed Encounter, which
is to say November 7, 1813 (“Martinmas, how strange to think it,”
said Barnabas).

Everyone rushed to the bow. For the McDoons, it felt like coming
home to a place they had never been. Far off in front of them was the
tiniest top of what might be a very large mountain, separated by sea.
Yet, for all their travails so far, each recognized that their adventures
had only just begun, like Palmerin outwitting the crone at the Well
at the Edge of the World, or Orlando taming the hippogriff.

Barnabas held the key, tugged at his vest, now barely recognizable
as one of the finest ever made in London, and whispered, “Well,
beans and bacon! We’re coming, Tom, my boy!”

Sanford found the words of the psalmist going through his head:
“‘Some went down to the sea in ships. . . . Then they cried to the Lord
in their trouble, and he brought them out from their distress; he
made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.’”

I feel like Europa pulling her feet up as the bull stormed across the
waters
, thought Sally, hugging Isaak to her breast.
No, that isn’t right:
Europa went unwillingly, and I wished myself to go. More like Odysseus
arriving at Ithaca. But no, that’s not quite right either since home is
Mincing Lane — though arriving in Yount feels like homecoming too. Oh
Tom!

The sun rose over Farther Yount. They would be there soon.

Sally held Isaak tight as the
Gallinule
sailed into Yount Great-Port.
The return of a strong ship from a voyage to Big Land was always a
scene of celebration because one out of every seven tough ships did
not return, and those that did were scarred, their crews haunted.
The crowd on the Naval Quay greeting the
Gallinule
was larger
than usual because the city knew the ship had fared forth to bring
back a Key-bearer. The crowds swelled as rumours flew that the
Gallinule
’s crew spoke of another marvel onboard, a Dolphin-singer
and Moon-finder. By the time the McDoons had wound their way
past the Fort and walked across the University Pentangle, crossed
the bridge over Dondil’s Canal, and come to the Royal Palace, the
streets were thronged. Yet the crowds were nearly silent, a sea of
dark eyes watching the McDoons. A mother might shush a child or a
man turn to a comrade with some whispered remark, but otherwise
there was no more noise than that of a low wind among the masts
of ships at anchor.

The McDoons barely had a chance to wash the salt from their
faces before they were brought to the Queen.

“Do bring your cat,” said Reglum to Sally. “I meant what I said about
cats having high honour in our country. A cat that has journeyed
all the way from Karket-soom shall be presented to the Queen as
well!”

Sally smiled, as she did rarely since the loss of James Kidlington.
Barnabas noted to himself that those rare smiles came almost
exclusively as a result of remarks made by Lieutenant Bammary.

They waited in the Queen’s anteroom. Sally looked out the one
window, down the hill and over the harbour. Many ships moved in
the harbour, surrounded by wherries and jolly-boats, lighters and
barges. A great river emptied into the harbour, with quays and docks
along its length. To a London merchant’s niece, the scene looked
familiar, a great comfort after the strangeness of the Interrugal
Lands.

“What’s that?” She pointed at something that one did not see
along the Thames: poles as tall as ship’s masts scattered throughout
the harbour in a design she could not determine, each with a ragged
platform on top. “Do ships tie up to those? Are they mooring
pales?”

“Yes, but they are more than that,” said Reglum. “Look!”

From one of the pole-top platforms a hawk launched itself and
headed out to sea.

“Ospreys!” said Reglum. “We love them almost as much as we
adore dolphins, though the fish-hawk cannot fulginate. They nest
on top of the poles.”

Oh, to be an osprey!
she thought, watching another one swoop in,
a fish in its claws.
To lead a fierce and simple life, hunting, rearing young
and then dying, but doing so without doubts or self-recrimination. Just
being and doing.

“Speaking of dolphins,” said Barnabas, pointing to one of the
many paintings and prints on the walls of the anteroom. “Look at
this one, like the pictures at the Piebald Swan.”

Reglum said, “It depicts a story from Karket-soom, in honour of
our voyages to your world: the story of Melicertes, whose mother
threw him into the sea when they were pursued by his father, who
was made mad by the gods. Little Melicertes — see, there he is — was
saved by a dolphin, who carried him ashore.”

At that moment the double-doors opened, a bell rang, and two
guards stepped into the waiting room. They said: “By the Trees and
the Nurturing Mother, you are called to meet Her Highness the
Queen.”

The Queen’s audience-room was small. The McDoons’ surprise
at the modesty of the room was superseded by a much greater shock:
the Queen was wearing trousers.

They had no time to register their shock, however, because it
was followed by yet another: the Queen bowed to them. Six others
were with her in the room. They each bowed. Reglum and Nexius
each brought his fists together in front of himself and bowed. The
McDoons did the same.

The Queen bid everyone sit at the oval table that was the sole
piece of furniture in the room, except for some chairs along the
walls. The two guards stepped outside and shut the door.

“Greetings,” she said in English. “I am Queen Zinnamoussea
Hullitate of Yount Major, sixth in succession of the dynasty that led
Yount Major to victory one hundred and twenty-five years ago in the
War of Affirmation, the war that ended with the destruction of the
Temple at the Sign of the Ear. We of Farther Yount, of Yount Major,
affirmed our abolition of slavery. The Ornish did not. I bid you
welcome with the greatest of respect and what I hope will become
affection as our acquaintance grows and prospers.”

She paused and took a breath.

“So much of a speech I put in my head,” she said with a smile. “My
English is good for listening, but I beg our pardon, not so good for
talking,” said the Queen. “I ask the Lord-Chancellor, whose English
is goodest, to translate. I know too that the Marines have good
English, from trips to Karket-soom.”

I wonder if Queen Elizabeth was like this!
thought Sally.
Oh, if only
Mrs. Sedgewick could be with me now.

Trousers!
thought Barnabas.
Beans and bacon! Trousers on a woman!
On the other hand, they are very well-made trousers, I must say. I might
enquire about that material — it must be coloured with more of those
tar-based dyes Salmius told us about. Hmmm, I wonder if she notices my
vest?

The Lord-Chancellor introduced herself and then the other five
in the room: the head of the Chamber of Optimates (“Roughly, the
Speaker in Parliament,” whispered Reglum), the Arch-Bishop of
the Sacerdotal Corps (“Makes him the Arch-Dean of the Learned
Doctors,” said Reglum), the Major-Captain of the Marines & Army,
the Chief Councillor & Protonotary of the Collegium for Agriculture,
Husbandry, & Commerce and, lastly and off to one side, the
representative for the resident Karket-soomi in Yount under Crown
protection. This last person seemed to be there mostly on sufferance
or as a direct request of the Queen that none of the others could talk
her out of.

“That’s the Rabbi of Palombeay,” said Reglum to the McDoons,
but he was interrupted before he had time to say more.

“One other introduction remains before we begin our serious
discussion,” said the Lord-Chancellor. “We have heard about a cat
that has travelled with you, one known as the
tes muddry
, the golden
claw. We’ve not met a cat that came from Karket-soom. Would you
bring her to us?”

Sally reached down and unclasped the wicker box at her feet. Out
sprang Isaak in new-scrubbed golden glory, her plumed tail a banner
waving in the air. Isaak jumped onto the table and investigated each
person.

“Cats know no sovereign but themselves and thus make even
sovereigns think about their position,” said Dorentius Bunce, first
in English and then in Yountish. “An old saying in Yount.”

The Queen laughed and said something in Yountish.

“All of us must be cats, acting with control and grace, otherwise
we become mice who get eaten,” said Dorentius. “Another old saying
here.”

When Isaak had curled up in Sally’s lap, the Queen signalled to the
Lord-Chancellor, who said, “It is time. Show forth, please, the key.”

Barnabas, making a slight demonstration of reaching for the key
so as to show off his vest, brought it out of his pocket.