The Temporal Void (43 page)

Buate dropped the stiletto, and watched the swarm of paper with disapproval. ‘Please don’t do that.’

Edeard sent a last flurry of papers chasing up towards the high ceiling. ‘A smart legal mind. And I’ve grown to dislike lawyers.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am not acquiring businesses, nor have I any desire to. The House of Blue Petals provides a more than adequate income.’

Edeard heard loud footsteps pounding along the corridor outside. He cocked his head to one side and gave Buate an expectant look.

‘Boss!’ a man yelled.

The doors burst open. A very out-of-breath Medath came charging in, his oilskin cloak scattering water on the polished floor behind him. ‘Boss! Boss! The Waterwalker was there, he caught us with Rapsail and – AAARGH!’ Medath nearly fell over backwards in fright. He clutched at his heart, eyes bugging as he drew a juddering breath. Buate was actually trembling in anger as he glared at his enforcer.

Edeard smiled contentedly. ‘T-t-t timing is everything in our line of work, don’t you find?’

‘You can’t be here,’ Medath cried. ‘You’re back there.’ His finger pointed madly out towards the city. ‘I ran . . . Boss?’

‘SHUT UP.’

Edeard made his smile vanish. ‘Leave the city. Take this cretin and all the others like him with you. You cannot win. Not against me.’

Buate rose from the chair, his hands pressed palms-down on the desk. ‘You understand nothing. Go back to your countryside, boy, before you and everyone you love gets hurt. This city is not for you.’

They stared at each other as Medath continued to pant loudly behind them.

‘Makkathran is already mine,’ Edeard said. ‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’ He turned and started to walk for the door.

‘You’re as weak as my brother,’ Buate spat after him. ‘Next time it won’t be Mirnatha who gets taken.’

Edeard spun round, flinging an arm out. Buate was torn from his seat to smash against the wall between two of the oval windows. He squirmed impotently seven feet above the floor. Thin worms of dazzling static crackled in the air around him, jabbing down at his clothes. Buate wailed in dread as tiny puffs of smoke squirted out of each strike point.

‘If anything ever happens to her or any of my friends, you will join your brother in a manner that will make his passing seem a delight.’ Edeard abruptly withdrew his third hand. Buate fell to the floor, landing badly on his shoulder. He grunted savagely at the pain.

‘You keep bad company,’ Edeard told Nanitte, and closed the doors behind him.

*

Edeard woke alone in his maisonette. His ge-chimps bustled round getting breakfast ready as he walked down the steps into his pool. For all the fun Kristabel and he had sponging each other down in the beach house, he’d missed the sheer luxury of the bathing pool with its perfect temperature. At first he thought that might account for his melancholia, then he acknowledged he just missed not waking up with Kristabel.

As he munched his way through the mix of nuts and fruit which the ge-chimps had prepared he wondered if he should longtalk her. It would be nice to find out when they could actually meet up next; yesterday had been so ridiculously busy. He was sure that she would expect him to go to the Culverit mansion and be with her to spend a night together, even though they’d be a lot comfier in the maisonette with his modified bed and the other simple comforts he’d created. Then he paused with a glass of apple and mango juice halfway to his mouth. Of all the family girls he’d been with, every one had been brought back to the maisonette – excepting the occasional night spent in an inn’s room or that nightmare weekend with Ranalee. Not once had he been taken back to their bedroom at the family residence.

Has Boyd ever gone back to Saria’s mansion for a night? I can’t remember. Lady, I wish I understood these kind of customs better.

The Grand Families could get quite stuffy about formalities.

I’ll ask Kanseen, she’ll tell me.

Until then, he foreswore off longtalking Kristabel. Of course, if she were to call to him . . .

Macsen was waiting by the gates at the tenement’s entrance. ‘How did it go last night?’ he asked.

‘Not too good. Buate wasn’t inclined to leave Makkathran.’

‘I could have told you that.’

‘I knew it myself, but I had to put it to him.’

Macsen grinned. ‘Your conscience . . . It’ll be the death of us.’

‘Most likely. But you should have seen Medath’s face. It was worth ten times the risk just for that. So how did your part go?’

‘Sentan and the rest of them trudged off down the south road. Quite a picture, it was. We stayed by the gate for over an hour, and sent a ge-eagle out to watch, but they never came back.’

‘Ah well, four down, four hundred to go.’

‘We can’t do this four at a time. Besides, it took us five days hard work just to uncover this one scheme.’

‘I know. We just have to hold the line until Finitan gets elected.’

‘You really think he will?’

‘He has to,’ Edeard said earnestly. ‘Most people in the city want the gangs expelled. Owain doesn’t stand a chance.’

‘You don’t know that. He could pull out a policy that will be even more popular.’

‘If he wanted to be that popular, he’d enact banishment right now, and stop trying to wreck our exclusion warrants campaign.’

‘The politicians in this city are a lot smarter and devious than you give them credit for. You’ll see.’

Edeard didn’t believe him, he knew Finitan would win. They reached Arrival Canal and went along to the first mooring platform to hail a gondola.

‘At least we get to see Rapsail’s hangover,’ Macsen said.

The meeting with Rapsail and Charyau was awkward and stilted. Charyau was torn between gratitude to the constables, and fury at himself and Rapsail. Rapsail especially came off badly.
Waster. Parasite. Worthless
. Were some of the more frequently used words. But Edeard was now quite accomplished at talking round reluctant citizens, especially important ones – or those who considered themselves important.

It wasn’t Charyau’s self-directed fury Edeard manipulated. It was the anger and fear the merchant felt towards the gangs who had come so close to taking his life’s accomplishments away from him. In the end there wasn’t that much to exploit. The whole experience meant that Charyau had undergone an almost evangelical conversion. Neph was going to get its first merchants association, of that he swore on the Lady’s life. He was going to compel his friends and rivals; there were old favours he would call in, he promised, social ties he could use, even financial debts. Together Neph’s merchants would stand against the gangs and this insidious new strategy. Everything he learned would immediately be delivered to the constables – by Rapsail.

Edeard walked into the small hall at the Jeavons station in an exceptionally fine mood. Several probationary constables had delivered names that their station captains wanted adding to the exclusion lists, which he passed on to Urarl’s team for checking. They did that as a matter of course now, making sure the names were genuine. Several traders and shopkeepers had also forwarded people they suspected. Edeard sent runners to the relevant constable stations, asking that the new suspects be observed. Three new warrants needed drawing up by the Lawyers Guild, producing nine copies each. Which he’d then have to humbly ask the District Masters and Representatives to sign.

‘I wish we could just have one warrant to cover all the districts,’ Boyd complained.

‘After Finitan gets elected,’ Edeard promised. ‘But I did have one idea after I saw Buate last night. If the gangs are taking shares in legitimate businesses, it’ll entail a lot of paperwork. Droal, how do we get the Guild of Tax Clerks to investigate someone we suspect of cheating on taxes?’

‘Get an inspector appointed to review the case.’

‘Dinlay, can you organize that?’

Dinlay smiled. ‘My pleasure.’

‘Talk to the Myco station captain as well. The inspector should be given a constables escort while he’s in Buate’s office, I don’t want them intimidated.’

‘Leave it with me.’

‘That should leave Buate with a large annoyance,’ Edeard said in satisfaction.

‘If he’s as smart as you say, he’ll have accountants who can face up to a tax inspector,’ Macsen said.

‘Yes, but it will cost him time and money. I want to open up as many angles of attack as we can.’

Edeard turned to his own paperwork that was piled up on a couple of the benches. There were actually more sheets and scrolls than he’d seen in Buate’s office. He hadn’t realized how clerk-like this battle was going to become. All he truly wanted was to be out on the streets arresting criminals.

‘Any gang activities we can smack down today?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Some interesting talk coming out of the Ilongo stallholders association,’ Macsen said. ‘I’m going to follow that up this afternoon.’

‘Good,’ Edeard said. He wondered if Kristabel was having lunch right now. If so, it would be on the hortus on their mansion’s tenth level. A long table with a white awning fluttering idly overhead. Family and friends gathered to chatter and laugh with Makkathran as their backdrop, wine to drink, tasty food to eat. Then an afternoon spent shopping, or at a spa bath, where they would prepare for this evening’s parties.

He picked up a piece of paper from the newest pile. It was a report from the Lillylight station about attempts by gang members named in the exclusion warrants to infiltrate the district and menace their old haunts again. Their methods were becoming quite sophisticated, distracting bridge guards, disguising themselves . . .

The small hall’s doors shut as the squad went out to lunch. Edeard looked up, realizing just he and Kanseen were left. She was giving him a concerned look, which worried him.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked.

‘Er, look, I asked you to tackle Medath because he’d believe he could overcome you. I know he can’t.’

Her lips came together reproachfully. ‘I’m talking about your week with Kristabel.’

‘What about it?’ He suddenly realized that being here alone with her wasn’t an accident.

‘Edeard, please, the two of us . . .’ She gave him a compassionate smile. ‘There’s a way we are closer than the others. I still almost think it’s a shame you and I didn’t happen, but well, now—’

‘I know. And I’m happy for the two of you. He needs someone like you. It’s a perfect match, and I haven’t told anyone.’

‘Edeard! This isn’t about me. I’m here as a friend asking if I can help. Why didn’t it work out? I mean, be honest, it’s not that you lack experience as a lover, now is it? There have been enough girls these last months.’

‘I—’ he knew he was blushing. Yes, Kanseen was a friend, a very good one, especially after . . . well, anyway, he wasn’t used to talking about such things with her. The others, yes. That was boys’ talk. Not that they ever went into real detail. ‘Nothing was wrong. Thank you,’ he said stiffly. ‘Not in
any
way.’

Kanseen stared at him, as if she was trying to figure out a major puzzle. It was almost as if she was angry with him. Then her expression suddenly changed to one of surprise, then dismay. Her hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh no. No!’ It was as if she was beseeching him to say anything else.

‘What?’ he asked apprehensively.

‘Edeard,’ she stood in front of him, and took both his hands in hers. ‘You do understand what last week was, don’t you?’

‘Yes. If you must know, I had the most wonderful time of my life. It was a miracle I ever came back to Makkathran. Satisfied now.’

‘A week and the day,’ she said it as if it were some kind of test.

‘Which day?’

‘Oh Lady, you really don’t know.’

‘Er . . .’

Kanseen tightened her grip. ‘Edeard, a Makkathran girl of good family,
particularly
one in Kristabel’s position, invites a man to spend one week outside the city with her for one reason, so they can both find out if they are compatible in bed. If you are going to spend the next two hundred years together you really, seriously, need to know that before you start.’

‘Two hundred years?’ Edeard’s legs were somehow unsteady. The feeling of dread that was creeping over his entire body was horrifyingly similar to that time when he’d woken in Ashwell to discover the bandits. ‘What two hundred years?’

‘Marriage! You nincompoop. Oh, Edeard,’ Kanseen was mortified. She let go of him and crammed her hands against her forehead. ‘If your week worked out
that way
you are supposed to ask her father for her hand in marriage
the day
you return. That’s the custom. A week and the day.’

‘Oh dear Lady, this isn’t happening.’

‘There was nothing wrong, was there? You just didn’t know.’

‘Kristabel thinks we’re getting married?’ He sat down heavily.

‘She was expecting you to ask. Everyone was. We were all worried for you that it had gone wrong.’

‘Oh Lady. Wait! Who else knows?’
Because this is Makkathran, and everything is in public.

Now Kanseen looked really upset. ‘Well, there have been a few people speculating who was the one with the problem.’

‘A few?’ He knew all too well what that meant.
The whole Lady-damned city is talking about it.

‘She must hate me,’ he said in an aghast whisper.
Not Kristabel; not her angry with me. I can’t stand that.

‘No. Um, look, I’d better go over to Haxpen and explain—’

‘No!’ Edeard sent his farsight surging into the Culverit ziggurat. He found her easily enough, in her grandiose bedroom, curled up on the bed, her mind a low glimmer of pure misery. Little Mirnatha was in there too, not saying anything, just miserable on behalf of her beloved elder sister. In the corridors outside, servants mooched about, sullen and trepidatious. Julan sat in one of the day lounges, trying to radiate a composed persona, but he couldn’t help the distress he felt inside from leaking through, the concern for his daughter.

‘Oh Lady,’ Edeard groaned in disbelief. ‘I am such an idiot.’