them down until she oiled them. She could cut off some fat and boil
it in a saucepan while the wash water was getting hot; the boiler
wouldn't take up the whole stove. By shadeup, the thing in the air
would be back, perhaps; if she stood in the middle of Silver Street
she might be able to see it quite clearly then, if she had time.
Auk felt sure they had been tramping through this tunnel forever,
and that was funny because he could remember when they had
turned off the other one to go down this one that they had been
going down since Pas built the Whorl, Urus spitting blood and
carrying the body, himself behind them in case Urus needed
winnowing out, Dace and Bustard so they could talk to him, then
Patera with the big soldier with the slug gun who had told them how
to walk and made him do it, and last Chenille in Patera's robe, with
Oreb and her launcher. Auk would rather have walked with her and
had tried to, but it was no good.
He looked around at her. She waved friendly, and Bustard and
Dace had gone. He thought of asking Incus and the soldier what had
become of them but decided he didn't want to talk to them, and she
was too far in back for a private chat. Bustard had most likely gone
on ahead to look things over and taken the old man with him. It
would be like Bustard, and if Bustard found something to eat he'd
bring him back some.
Pray to Phaea, Maytera Mint instructed him. Phaea is the food
goddess. Pray to her, Auk, and you will surely be fed. He grinned at
her. "Good to see you, Maytera! I been worried about you." May
every god smile upon you, Auk, this day and every day. Her smile
turned the cold damp tunnel into a palace and replaced the watery
green glow of the crawling light with the golden flood that had
awakened him. Why should you worry about me, Auk? I have
served the gods faithfully since I was fifteen. They will not abandon
me. No one has less reason to worry than I. "Maybe you could get
some god to come down here and walk with us," Auk suggested.
Behind him, Incus protested, "_Auk_, my son!"
He made a rude noise and looked around for Maytera Mint, but
she was gone. For a minute he thought she might have run ahead to
talk to Bustard, then realized that she had gone to fetch a god to
keep him company. That was the way she'd always been. The least
little thing you happened to mention, she'd jump up and do it if she
could.
He was still worried about her, though. If she was going to
Mainframe to fetch a god, she'd have to pass the devils that made
trouble for people on the way, telling lies and pulling them off the
Aureate Path. He should have asked her to go get Phaea. Phaea and
maybe a couple pigs. Jugs would like some ham, and he still had his
hanger and knife. He could kill a pig and cut it up, and dish up her
ham. Shag, he was hungry himself and Jugs couldn't eat a whole pig.
They'd save the tongue for Bustard, he'd always liked pig's tongue.
It was Phaesday, so Maytera would most likely bring Phaea, and
Phaea generally brought at least one pig. Gods generally brought
whatever animal theirs was, or anyhow, pretty often.
Pigs for Phaea. (You had to get them all right if you wanted to
learn the new stuff next year.) Pigs for Phaea and lions or anyhow
cats for Sphinx. Who'd eat a cat? Fish for Scylla, but some fish
would be all right. Little birds for Molpe, and the old 'un had limed
perches for 'em, salted 'em, and made sparrow pie when he'd got
enough. Bats for Tartaros, and owls and moles.
Moles?
Suddenly and unpleasantly it struck Auk that Tartaros was the
underground god, the god for mines and caves. So this was his
place, only Tartaros was supposed to be a special friend of his and
look what had happened to him down here, he had made Tartaros
shaggy mad at him somehow because his head hurt, his head wasn't
right, something kept sliding and slipping up there like a needler
that wouldn't chamber right no matter how much you oiled it and
made sure every last needle was as straight as the sun. He reached
under his tunic for his, but it wasn't right at all--was so wrong, in
fact, that it wasn't there, though Maytera Mint was his mother and
in need of him and it.
"Poor Auk! Poor Auk!" Oreb circled above his head. The wind
from his laboring wings stirred Auk's hair, but Oreb would not
settle on his shoulder, and soon flew back to Chenille.
It wasn't there any more and neither was she. Auk wept.
The captain's salute was much smarter than his torn and soiled
green uniform. "My men are in position, My General. My floater is
patrolling. To reinforce the garrison by stealth is no longer possible.
Nor will reinforcement at the point of the sword be possible, until
we are dead."
Bison snorted, tilting back the heavy oak chair that was temporarily his.
Maytera Mint smiled. "Very good, Captain. Thank you. Perhaps
you had better get some rest now."
"I have slept, My General, though not long. I have eaten as well,
as you, I am told, have not. Now I inspect my men at their posts.
When my inspection is complete, perhaps I shall sleep another hour,
with my sergeant to wake me."
"I'd like to go with you," Maytera Mint told him. "Can you wait
five minutes?"
"Certainly, My General. I am honored. But..."
She looked at him sharply. "What is it, Captain? Tell me, please."
"You yourself must sleep, My General, and eat as well. Or you
will be fit for nothing tomorrow."
"I will, later. Please sit down. We're tired, all of us, and you must
be exhausted." She turned back to Bison. "We have a principle in the
Chapter, for sibyls like me and augurs like Patera Silk. Discipline,
it's called, and it comes from an old word for pupil or student. If
you're a teacher, as I am, you must have discipline in the classroom
before you can teach anything. If you don't, they'll be so busy
talking among themselves that they won't hear a thing that you say,
and draw pictures instead of doing the assignment."
Bison nodded.
Recalling an incident from the year before, Maytera Mint smiled
again. "Unless you've _told_ them to draw pictures. If you've told
them to draw, they'll write each other notes."
The captain smoothed his small mustache. "My General. We have
discipline also, we officers and men of the Civil Guard. The word is
the same. The practice, I dare say, not entirely different."
"I know, but I can't use you to patrol the streets and stop the
looting. I wish I could, Captain. It would be very convenient, and no
doubt effective. But to many people the Guard is the enemy. There
would be a rebellion against our rebellion, and that's exactly what
we cannot afford."
She turned back to Bison. "You understand why this is needed,
don't you? Tell me."
"We're robbing ourselves," he said.
His beard made it difficult to read his expression, but she tried
and decided he was uncomfortable. "What you say is true. The
people whose houses and shops are being looted are our people,
too, and if they have to stay there to defend them, they can't fight
for us. But that isn't all, is it? What else did you want to say?"