Very shortly thereafter, Jochaim contracted a new trisme, and Singhalissa came to live at Benbuphar Strang, along with her children Destian and Sthelany, who were both conceived out of trisme, a circumstance neither unusual nor consequential.
Bloated with facts, Efraim put aside the Pandects and rising to his feet he stretched and slowly paced the Grand Parlor. At a sound he looked up, expecting Matho Lorcas, but found only Agnois. Efraim continued his deliberations. He must reach a decision in connection with the Noble Singhalissa. She had attempted to conceal a number of important documents, then had tried to embarrass and demean him. If he simply adopted a manner of lofty disdain, she would certainly attempt new intrigues. Nonetheless - because of the revulsion which Singhalissa aroused in him - he felt an unconquerable reluctance toward dealing harshly with her; such acts created an intimacy of their own, like that hateful empathy between the torturer and his victim. Still, he must make some sort of response, lest she consider him futile and indecisive.
"Agnois, I have come to a decision. The Noble Singhalissa is to be transferred from her present suite into that now occupied by friend Matho Lorcas. Bring the Noble Lorcas to more congenial quarters in the Jaher Tower. Attend to this at once. I want no delay."
"Your orders shall be carried out! May I venture a comment?"
"Certainly."
"Why not send her back to Disbague? At Urrue Strang she would seem to be at a safe distance."
"The suggestion is sensible. However, she might not remain at Disbague, but set about organising troubles from all directions. Here, at least, she is under my eye. Again, I do not know that person who dealt me harm six months ago. Why expel Singhalissa until I learn the truth? Also" - Efraim hesitated. If Singhalissa departed, Sthelany almost certainly would depart too, but he did not care to explain as much to Agnois.
He walked up and down the parlor wondering how much Agnois knew of mirk-deeds about the castle, and how, much Agnois could tell him in regard to Sthelany.
What was her usual conduct during mirk? Did she bolt her door and bar her windows, as fearful maidens were wont to do? Where was Sthelany now? In fact:
"Where is Matho Lorcas?"
"He accompanies the Lissolet Sthelany; they walk in the Garden of Bitter Odors."
Efraim grunted and continued his pacing. As he might have expected. He gave Agnois a brusque gesture. "See that the Noble Singhalissa is moved to her new quarters at once. You need supply no explanations; your orders are simple, and explicit. No, wait! You may say that I am angry with you for bringing useless old clothes to my wardrobe."
"Very well, Force." Agnois hurried from the chamber. After a moment Efraim followed. Passing through the silent reception hall, he went out upon the terrace. Before him spread the distant landscape, placid in the halcyon light of umber. Matho Lorcas came conning up the steps. "So ho!" cried Lorcas, in what Efraim considered unnatural cheer, or perhaps he was nervously gay. "I wondered how long you intended to sleep."
"I've been awake for hours. What have you been doing?"
"A great deal. I explored passages out of the Sacarlatto. For your information the passages leading to the chambers of both the Noble Singhalissa and the Lissolet Sthelany are obstructed - sealed off with walls of masonry. When mirk arrives, you must turn your attention elsewhere."
"Singhalissa has been busy."
"She overrates the magnetism of her precious body," said Lorcas. "Sthelany is a different matter."
"It appears that you must seduce her by more conventional means," said Efraim in a morose voice.
"Ha hah! I would expect more success chiseling through the masonry. Still, either method is a challenge, and I am stimulated by challenges. What a triumph for the liberal philosophy should I succeed!"
"True. If you want to see how the land lays, why not invite her to take lunch with you?"
"Oh, I know how the land lays. I learned the entire map six months ago in Port Mar. In a certain sense we're old friends."
Agnois stepped forth from the Reception Hall, his lined gray face limp and loose under the velvet tricorn emblematic of his office. He saluted Efraim. "The Noble Singhalissa states that she is most distressed by your orders, and that she finds them incomprehensible."
"You offered her my remark in regard to the wardrobe?"
"I did, Force, and she professed bewilderment. She urges that you condescend to receive her at an inhalation1, in order to discuss the matter."
"Certainty," said Efraim. "In, let us say, two hours, when umber becomes green rowan, if yonder phase-dial is faithful."
"Two hours, Force? She used an urgent form of speech, and evidently wishes the benefit of your wisdom at once."
"I am suspicious of Singhalissa's immediacies," said Efraim. "Two hours will enable you to provide exactly proper garments for me, and for the Noble Matho Lorcas. Additionally, I have certain arrangements to make."
Agnois departed, puzzled and resentful. For the tenth time Efraim wondered as to the advisability of replacing him. With his special knowledge, Agnois was almost indispensable; but Agnois also was given to vacillation and at the mercy of the last personality with whom he had come into contact.
Efraim said to Lorcas: "You would like to attend an inhalation, I take it?"
"Of course. It will be an unforgettable experience - one among many, if I may say so."
"Then meet me in the Grand Parlor in two hours. Your quarters have been changed to the Jaher Tower, incidentally, I am transferring Singhalissa to those you now occupy." Efraim grinned. "I hope to teach her not to play tricks on the Kaiark."
"I doubt if you'll succeed," said Lorcas. "She knows tricks you've never thought of. If I were you I'd look in my bed for snakes before jumping under the covers."
"Yes," said Efraim. "No doubt you are right." He entered the castle, crossed the reception hall, passed along the Corridor of Ancestors, but instead of entering the Trophy Room, turned aside into a corridor paved with brown and white tiles, and so came to a chamber which served as office, bursary, and domestic headquarters. A bench by the side wall supported an ancient communicator.
Efraim closed and locked the door. He addressed himself to the communicator code-book, then pressed a set of discolored old buttons. The screen glowed with pale light, showing sudden jagged disks of carmine red as the summons sounded at the opposite end of the connection.
Three or four minutes passed. Efraim sat patiently. To expect a crisp response would have been unrealistic.
The screen glowed green, powdered into fugitive dots which reformed to display the visage of a pale old man with locks of lank white hair dangling past his ears. He peered at Efraim with a half-challenging, half-myopic glare and spoke in a rattling croak. "Who calls Gorgance Strang, and for what purpose?"
"I am Efraim, Kaiark of Scharrode. I wish to speak with your master the Kaiark."
"I will announce that Your Force awaits him."
Another five minutes passed, then upon the screen appeared a massive copper-colored face from which hung a great beak of a nose and a deep pendulum of a chin. "Kaiark Efraim, you have returned to Scharrode. Why do you call me, when no such communication has occurred for a hundred years."
"I call you, Kaiark Gosso, for knowledge. While I was absent, mirk-men from Gorgetto entered Scharrode. During this raid the Kaiark Jochaim suffered death from a Gorget bolt, which burst open his back."
Gosso's eyes contracted to ice-blue slits. "So much may be fact. What then? We await your onslaught. Send over your mirk-men; we will impale them on ridgeline saplings. Marshal your noblemen, advance upon us with open faces. We will face you rank for rank and slaughter the best of Scharrode."