‘I think she was so taken aback at seeing me that she forgot to yell bloody murder until after I’d had a chance to be reasonable; and so, after a few mutual recriminations for form’s sake, we came to a sort of state of armed truce. After all, we were the only family either of us had still got, and the fact is that we’d always had a sort of special relationship back from when we were kids. I won’t say it was forgive and forget exactly; but she had the baby to think of and I was feeling pretty sick about the whole business and badly wanted someone not to hate me to death, so we agreed I’d try and make it up to her as best I could, and we’d see if we couldn’t find some way to make the future a degree less crappy for both of us.
‘To cut a long story short; I managed to scrape a little money together – you don’t want to know how – and we set off for the Island. After a bit of soul-searching Sis left the kid with the Hedin family; they were happy to bring it up as one of theirs provided Mummy promised to go away and never come back. Sis was fairly upset about it at the time, but we agreed a baby’d really get in our way, considering the line of business we planned on going into. I’ll say this for my sister, once she’s decided what has to be done, she doesn’t let sentiment stand in her way.
So we went to the Island and set up in the moneylending racket; did very well at it, too, after a very shaky start. As to what made us turn the corner, that’s another story; one that might interest you, Patriarch, some other time, because it sort of impinges on your line of work. Anyway, after a while we found we were making a go of things, our lives were settling down and somehow or other we’d managed to show all the fuck-ups a clean pair of heels; not bad going, considering. It was then that we both decided that our – what shall we call it: our mutual non-aggression pact in the face of a common enemy, namely Life? Something like that – our understanding, if you like, had more or less outlived its usefulness and it’d be in both our interests if we divvied up and went our separate ways while we were still on speaking terms. It was a good idea, I think. When you can feel a major bust-up looming ahead of you, it’s not a bad idea to get out of each other’s way before the stones start to fly.
‘We moved all the way out to Scona and set up a proper bank, all respectable and above board. I have to admit, she’s the one with the brains in our family. I’m not doing badly myself, but she’s made a real success of the business, and as far as I can see she owns virtually everything and everybody on that side of the bay. Big fish and small pond, maybe; still not too dusty for a peasant’s daughter from the Mesoge. And, as I remind her from time to time, if it wasn’t for me she might well still be back on Gallas’ farm hoeing turnips and mucking out goats. She won’t admit it, but at least she doesn’t throw things at me when I say it any more.’
Alexius sat very still, like a rabbit facing a snake. The sheer presence of the man was appalling and fascinating. ‘And what about the child?’ he said at last. ‘Your sister’s son, the one she left behind?’
‘Daughter, actually. In fact, it’s her I wanted to see Bardas about, thought I have a nasty feeling I’ve left it a little bit too late.’ He sighed. ‘I’m surprised you need to ask, actually. I’d have thought as soon as you heard the name-’
Alexius’ throat became terribly dry. ‘Hedin,’ he said.
‘They called the girl Iseutz,’ Gorgas continued. ‘Not the name her mother gave her, but they wanted something a bit higher class. Anyway, they brought her up with the dead boy’s young brother. His name was Teofil.’
‘Teofil Hedin. Iseutz Hedin.’ Alexius’ face crumpled in horror. ‘Oh, gods, that girl-’
Gorgas nodded grimly. ‘The irony is,’ he said, ‘she doesn’t even know about Bardas and me and all the rest of it. As far as she’s concerned, Bardas is the man who killed her darling uncle Teofil, the only one who ever cared for her. Grisly, isn’t it? When it comes to luck, good and bad, our family strikes me as having had rather more than its fair share.’
‘Oh, gods,’ Alexius repeated. ‘She’s his niece.’
‘Fortunately,’ Gorgas said, ‘she still is. More by luck than judgement,’ he continued, shaking his head. ‘It’s my fault it’s got this far; as soon as we found out what was going on, I raced over here, but the first I knew of this confounded fight was when I saw it posted on the courtroom door.’
Alexius wasn’t quite sure what to make of any of that. He wanted to know how they’d found out, for one thing. He wanted to mention the dream he’d had during the reading of the depositions, the pains in his head, chest and arms that had come and gone away again; all manner of small points that seemed to be leading in a certain direction. He wanted to ask Gorgas if he knew two Islanders called Venart and Vetriz. He wanted to find out exactly what it was about his unnamed sister’s way of doing business that might interest him because it sort of impinged on his line of work. He did none of these things.
‘You said you wanted me to give Bardas a message,’ he said, as neutrally as he could manage. ‘What do you want me to tell him?’
‘I’m not sure, really,’ Gorgas confessed, scratching the side of his head. ‘I suppose he ought to be told about Iseutz; who she really is, and all that. It’d have been better perhaps if he’d been told before he cut off all the fingers on her right hand; or maybe not, I don’t know. Maybe if he’d known, it’d have cost him his life.’ He leant forward and went on very earnestly, ‘I love my brother, Patriarch. I always did. We were close; not as close as I was to my sister, but we grew up together, played together as kids. You can’t help loving someone under those circumstances even if you end up hating them at the same time. If you’ve got a brother or a sister, maybe you understand. And I recognise that making it up to Bardas is going to be very difficult, since this whole mess is nearly all my fault; I made no bones about that from the very start, remember. I’ve got no illusions about myself. But I’m not an evil man, Alexius, just a man who once did some evil things. Maybe I still do, from time to time. But if there’s anything I can do for my brother, I want to do it. Ideally, I’d like him to leave this city while there’s still time; come back with me if he likes, or go wherever he wants. I’d gladly make sure he never wanted for money or things. I’d even try and make peace between him and my sister, though I doubt that’d ever be possible. Whatever; you’ve got to believe me, I certainly don’t mean him any harm.’
Abruptly, he stood up. Alexius wanted to stop him leaving, but made no effort to do so. ‘So what do you want me to tell him?’ he repeated. ‘Always supposing I can get in touch with him, which I can’t guarantee.’
Gorgas licked his lips before answering. ‘Tell him about the girl,’ he said at last. ‘He may not believe it, of course. If he does, he’ll probably think I’m telling him now just to make him suffer, but there’s nothing I can do about that.’ He hesitated, then continued, ‘Tell him I’d like there to be peace between us, if for no other reason than because he’s my brother and I miss him. Tell him I love him, Patriarch Alexius. I think that more or less covers everything.’
Gorgas moved swiftly to the door, opened it and closed it behind him. When he’d gone, there was a large empty space in the room, a displacement that put Alexius in mind of the operation of the Principle and the uses it could on occasion be put to, for good or ill. He sat for a long time thinking over what he’d been told, trying to tease out of it something that would help him make sense of many things that had happened, to him and to others, over the last few months; coincidentally, since more or less the time when Temrai was known to have come to the city. He thought about Bardas Loredan lying half-dead among the bodies of his family, and remembered a dream he’d had during the emergency, in which he’d seemed to see Loredan riding through a burning camp with a torch in his hand, apparently looking for someone among the bodies of women and children; and a boy he’d somehow recognised as the young Temrai, hiding under a wagon and watching him. Behind it all there was one simple thing; he could visualise it in general terms, he could almost taste it, but it continued to elude him. He even got up and looked on a map to see where Scona was, but that didn’t help particularly.