‘Good idea.’ Venart furrowed his brows and jerked his head towards the stern of the ship. ‘What about him?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Vetriz replied. ‘I haven’t said a word to him since we left.’
‘I suppose you’ll want me to look after him as well, find him a job or something.’
Vetriz laughed. ‘Ven, all he’s good at is making bows and killing people. And somehow I don’t see him settling down to learn book-keeping. Besides, I expect Athli’ll want to do something for him.’
‘Athli Zeuxis? Oh, I forget, she used to work for him.’ Venard thought for a moment. ‘Were they ever… you know?’
‘I don’t think so; too straight-grained and wholesome for his taste, I think. Mostly, though, I guess he just had other things on his mind.’ She lowered her voice a little. ‘I think he had some kind of confrontation with his brother before he left; at least, there was a story going around that they had a big falling-out and that was something to do with why Gorgas suddenly upped and left like that.’
Venart shook his head. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘Gorgas saw that he couldn’t possibly win in the long run, and for once did the decent thing by clearing out and making the peace possible. Or, more likely, he lost his nerve and ran, especially once Big Sister had slung her hook. Everybody knows she’s the one with the real brains.’
‘Really?’ Vetriz wrinkled her nose. ‘Ven, he slaughtered six thousand halberdiers virtually without loss; Anaut Mogre’s army’s practically all the Foundation’s got left. He’d won the war. That’s what’s so odd about it. I shall have to ask Gannadius if he knows anything about what really happened there.’
‘What, Doctor Gannadius, the one who used to work for us? Triz, if you think we’re going to Shastel just so you can-’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Vetriz replied. ‘Go and steer the ship or something.’
Alexius?
‘Go away,’ Alexius replied, ‘I’m asleep.’
Of course you’re asleep, otherwise you couldn’t hear me. You seem to be still in one piece, I’m glad to see.
‘Never felt better,’ Alexius grunted. ‘Leaving Scona has a wonderfully therapeutic effect.’
You don’t mean that. After all, I did what I promised I’d do. I taught you about magic.
‘You did not,’ Alexius replied stiffly. ‘Oh, you used me as a pair of supernatural lazy-tongs, I’ll grant you that. I suppose you’d hammer a wedge into a block of wood and then say you’d taught it carpentry.’
It was there for you to learn. It you chose not to, that’s your fault, not mine.
Alexius sighed. ‘I can’t envisage myself ever wanting to learn the sort of thing you’d have taught me,’ he said.
Really? How ungrateful. I’ve given you, on a plate, the key to understanding the true nature of the Principle – something you’d never have figured out in the abstract if you lived to be two hundred.
‘That’s true,’ Alexius admitted. ‘And how I can ever have been interested in something so – so banal, I really can’t imagine. Wonderful, isn’t it, finding out that your whole life’s work’s been a complete waste of time.’
Alexius, Alexius. You sound just like my brother.
‘Which one?’
Both.
‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Alexius asked. ‘Or is this just a social nightmare?’
One small favour. You remember my daughter? She was your student, for a very short while. Iseutz Hedin.
‘I don’t suppose I’ll forget her in a hurry.’
Splendid. And you remember that curse you laid for her? On Bardas?
‘In the same way as a one-legged man remembers the cart that ran him over. What of it?’
I want you to go back and lift the curse. No, be quiet, you can do it now. I’ve taught you how.
‘I – Yes,’ Alexius reflected, ‘I suppose you have-’
– And he was standing in the courtroom in Perimadeia, under the high-domed roof with the peculiar acoustic, the one that made the clack of swords meeting echo. The floor under the thin soles of his shoes was sandy, and scrunched when he moved. There was a man directly in front of him, his back turned, Bardas Loredan, in a fencer’s white shirt; and over Bardas’ shoulder he could just see the girl, Iseutz Hedin, holding a sword in fingers she no longer had.
‘Nothing we can do about that, of course,’ said the short, dumpy woman by his side. ‘A pity. What I really need most is a good clerk, but with no fingers to speak of on her writing hand she’s never going to be much use to me.’
The red and blue light from the great window burnt on Iseutz’s sword-blade, a long, thin strip of straight steel foreshortened by the perspective into an extension of her hand, a single pointing finger.
‘Unless,’ Niessa went on, ‘she learns to write with her left hand. A surprising number of people can, you know. Look sharp, Alexius, this is the bit where she kills him.’
Alexius saw Bardas move forward; Iseutz reacted, parrying backhand, high, then recovered into a fluent lunge that bypassed Bardas’ attempted parry -
– That was stopped and flicked aside by Bardas’ masterful defence, leaving her to stumble forward a step and catch hold of his shoulder to steady herself.
‘Damn,’ she said.
‘Never mind,’ Bardas replied. ‘You’re getting there. Let’s try it once more, and this time, anticipate.’
‘Oh, very neatly done,’ Niessa said, as Alexius looked up and saw the hammer-beam roof of the fencing schools where the dome of the courtroom had been a moment before. ‘Very economical. Stylish, even.’
‘Thank you,’ Alexius replied. ‘What did I do, exactly?’
Niessa patted his arm. ‘Let’s see,’ she said. ‘Let’s start with what you haven’t done. You haven’t changed what’s actually happened; Iseutz did fight Bardas and have her fingers cut off, and she did want to kill him, and she did get a really rather horrible sort of revenge on him by telling him about Gorgas opening the gates. What you have done is set her mind at rest; now she reckons that what she did was far better than killing him, because – well, I don’t suppose he’d have minded all that much being killed, but right now I should think he’s feeling quite awful. And she’ll be pleased because she’ll figure she’s paid out Gorgas and me as well as Bardas. In consequence, maybe she’ll stop hating me and start making herself useful. As I told you, I really do need a helper – right-hand man, I almost said, but really that’s not the best way to describe Iseutz.’
Alexius thought for a moment. ‘To replace Gorgas, you mean?’
Niessa nodded. ‘He was hopeless. My own fault for putting family above business. His ridiculous war ruined a successful business and wasted years of hard work; but he always wanted to be a soldier, bless him, just like Bardas and Uncle Maxen.’
Alexius watched the fencing lesson for a few moments. ‘You don’t seem too upset,’ he said. ‘About losing the Bank.’
‘One must be practical,’ Niessa replied. ‘When something’s in such a mess that there’s nothing to be done about it, you turn around and go away.’
‘Like Gorgas did?’
‘Exactly. And between you and me, it wasn’t as great a loss as you’d think. Given our position and the way Shastel saw us, there wasn’t a future in the business. Getting out when I did, at least I was able to salvage the ready money and negotiable assets. And,’ she went on, ‘being brutal about it, I’ve got rid of a serious liability, namely Gorgas. Time now to move on to better things.’
‘Niessa-’ Alexius said-
– And opened his eyes.
‘Alexius,’ said Bardas Loredan. ‘Are you all right?’
Alexius’ brow furrowed. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘What’s going on?’
Bardas sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘You’re in the master’s cabin aboard the Squirrel, Vetriz Auzeil’s ship. We’re going to the Island. You had a funny turn up on deck. How are you feeling now?’