Return To The Whorl Part 19

I have been walking up and down this little room, three steps and turn, worrying about Oreb. If you ever read this, dear Nettle, you will say that I ought to have been worrying about our son; but what is there to worry about? He and Vadsig will or will not marry. I cannot decide that for them, and neither could you; they must decide it for themselves. If they do not, each will regret it sometimes, and nothing you and I could say or do can change that. If they do, each will regret that that sometimes, too; and we cannot change that either. So what is there to think about? I wish them both well. So would you, I believe, if you were here with me. sometimes, too; and we cannot change that either. So what is there to think about? I wish them both well. So would you, I believe, if you were here with me.

As for Oreb, I am concerned about him but what can I do? When we reached this whorl, he left me for nearly a year. At, this moment he has been gone less than a day. I have prayed that he is safe, and that is all I can do. I hope the Outsider, whose sacrifice Silk once intended Oreb to be, smiles on him.

The reason for my failure with poor Jahlee last night is obvious, surely. Her spirit is absent. I had supposed that it might be hovering about her body, and that I might somehow a.s.sist it to re-enter. It is not there, and in all probability is still on Green. I returned from Green, leaving her there and supposing that she could return as I did whenever she chose. Either she has not chosen to return, or she is unable to do so. If it is the first, well and good. I have no claim on her; she may remain as she is if she chooses.

But if she is unable to return (and I confess I believe that most likely) I must bring her back; and I cannot go without the company of another such as Jahlee is and my poor friend Fava was.

Available to me in this house are Vadsig, Aanvagen, Beroep, and perhaps Cijfer. I have tried to persuade myself that one of them might do. I cannot. Vadsig is lean enough, but the idea of an inhuma living by choice as Vadsig does--sleeping in a garret, sweeping and mopping floors, and was.h.i.+ng dishes--is perfectly ridiculous. She has worked here, she says, for two years. She would have been detected a hundred times over. If somehow she had not been, she would have been detected at once by Oreb, who has seen her many times.

Beroep and Aanvagen can be dismissed at once; both are far too portly. As for Cijfer, I do not believe it. Oreb saw her and said nothing. She would not have covered Jahlee's face, or fetched a bio to help her. All four can be dismissed.

Leaving no one. What am I to do?

Sleep.

No dreams. Not of Fava and Mora, nor of anyone else; but I ought to have known better--Mora herself must be awake.

Dusk outside my window. Another short winter day has ended. Soon the house will be asleep, and I will go out and search the streets for someone like Fava and Jahlee who may (may, I say) be willing to go to Green with me and bring my poor daughter home. What else can I do? I give thanks to the Outsider, particularly, that Beroep failed to notice I was keeping his gray boat cloak. I say) be willing to go to Green with me and bring my poor daughter home. What else can I do? I give thanks to the Outsider, particularly, that Beroep failed to notice I was keeping his gray boat cloak.

So much has happened that I despair of recording all of it. I required Beroep's cloak--I was right about that--but not to search the streets of Dorp for a helpful inhumu. I had no more than written cloak cloak and put away my pen case and my dwindling supply of paper than I heard the rattle of sling swivels and the clatter of boots on the stair. In came two men with slug guns, and off to Judge Hamer we went--not to a courtroom, but to his house, where he held court in his sellaria. and put away my pen case and my dwindling supply of paper than I heard the rattle of sling swivels and the clatter of boots on the stair. In came two men with slug guns, and off to Judge Hamer we went--not to a courtroom, but to his house, where he held court in his sellaria.

"No formal session it is, Mysire Horn." He is fat and red of face, and seemed to me to be forcing his voice deeper than nature intended. "A preliminary hearing it is. This is capital cases we do."

I protested that I had killed no one.

"Nat you made your prisoner. Him you restrained, mysire. By our law a capital offense it is." He smiled, c.o.c.ked his head, and pointed his forefinger down at his neck.

"Is Nat a particularly privileged individual here in Dorp, Judge Hamer?"

He looked severe. "Mysire Rechtor to me you must say, mysire, each time you speak."

"Excuse it, please, Mysire Rechtor. I am a stranger, and ignorant of your usages. Is Nat a privileged citizen, Mysire Rechtor? Or does this law you describe apply to everyone?"

"The protection of all it is, mysire."

"What about strangers such as my daughter, my son, and myself, Mysire Rechtor? Are we protected, too? Or does your law protect only your own citizens?"

"All it protects. This I say, mysire, and this so is."

"Then I protest on behalf of my daughter, Mysire Rechtor. She is being held by your order, and she had nothing to with restraining Nat--whom we soon released, by the way."

"By the law held she is, mysire. The law, the law cannot break." He addressed the troopers. "Mysire Horn's daughter, Meren Jahlee. Why not to my court fetching her you are?"

One came to attention and saluted. "Sleeping she is, Mysire Rechtor."

"Her you wake."

There was a whispered consultation; I took advantage of the time it gave me to look around. The five with slug guns I took to be legermen, although their uniforms were sketchy at best. Except for them, and Judge Hamer, there was no one in the sellaria save Beroep, Aanvagen, and me.

The sellaria itself spoke of wealth and luxury, although no wealthy man in the Viron I knew as a boy would have been impressed by it. Its floors of waxed wood was smooth, and the rough wool carpet before the judge's desk not quite contemptible. Somber pictures hung on the crudely paneled walls; heavy chairs and gla.s.s-fronted cabinets containing rusted knives and swords, and split and polished stones, completed the furnis.h.i.+ngs.

"Mysire Horn!" Hamer rapped his desk with a walking stick. "About your daughter presently we see. Likewise Mysire Hide, who stands accused with you."

"Unjustly. He is my son and merely did what I told him."

"This he and you later must say. How you plead I must know, and not how Mysire Hide will, or this Meren Jahlee whose sleep brave men dare not disturb. Our laws you do not know, mysire?"

I shook my head.

"By speaking you must answer."

"No, Mysire Rechtor. I do not."

"Such criminals as you, Mysire Horn, three choices have. Innocent you may plead. If this you say, your innocence by your own speech and your witnesses you must to me prove."

"I would be free to speak then, Mysire Rechtor?"

"This I have said, mysire. If guilty you plead, almost the same it is. By your speech and witnesses for a light sentence you argue."

"I believe I understand, Mysire Rechtor."

"Not pleading also you may choose. If so you choose, a friend for you I shall appoint. Then your guilt we must show, and he our witnesses may question. For children and those who cannot speak this is done."

"You said that you would have to prove my guilt, Mysire Rechtor. I thought you were to be my judge."

"Your judge I am. If guilty you are, show it so I must. How pleading you are?"

I looked to Beroep for a hint, but he would not meet my eye. I said, "I won't plead until my trial, Mysire Rechtor."

"Now plead you must, so we for your trial can prepare."

I shook my head again.

"To me aloud you must speak!"

I was badly frightened, but I thought of Silk in the inn in Limna, and how he had longed for a public trial, though he had known that at the conclusion of any such trial he would be convicted and sentenced to die. Gathering what courage I have, I said, "You are my prosecutor, mysire. Take me before a just judge, and I will speak to him."

"Your judge I am!" He pounded the table with his stick.

"You claim the right to prosecute me in accordance with your laws, the laws of Dorp, about which I know nothing. I claim the right to defend myself by the only law I know, the law of reason. Reason demands an impartial judge, and that I be given the advice of someone who knows your law." I wanted to swallow and tried to, as I recall vividly. "Someone friendly to my cause."

Silence descended on the sellaria, save for the shuffling of the legermen's boots.

"Is that all you have to say, Mysire Horn?"

I nodded my head.

"To me aloud speak!"

I shook it and waited for the blow from behind I expected.

"Mysire Beroep!"

He stepped forward and said, "Yes, Mysire Rechtor," with a slight tremor.

"In your house Mysire Horn is staying how many days?"

There was a pause, and I saw Beroep's fingers twitch as he endeavored to count on them without making it obvious that he was doing so. I said, "For eight days, Judge Hamer."

"Me, Mysire Rechtor calling you are."

"No, Hamer."

"Him you silence," Hamer told one of the legermen, who positioned himself behind me with his hand over my mouth.

Beroep said, "Six days, Mysire Rechtor."

"Not eight it is?"

Beroep cleared his throat. "Only six counting I am, Mysire Rechtor."

There was an interruption as Hide was hustled in, followed by Vadsig and a middle-aged couple.

"This Mysire Hide it is?" Judge Hamer asked.

I jerked the legerman's hand down and said as loudly as I could, "No!" "No!"

"What this is you saying are, mysire?"

The legerman had his hand over my mouth and an arm around my neck; I could not speak.

"Mysire," Hamer pointed to Hide, "your name we must have."

"My name is Hoof," Hide told him.

"To me Mysire Rechtor you say, mysire. Again you answer."

"Yes, Mysire Rechtor."

Hamer's eyes rolled upward; I felt sure that like me, he was silently imploring the mercy of the immortal G.o.ds. "To this court your name you must give. It what is?"

The middle-aged man said, "Hide it is, Mysire Rechtor. In my house quartered he is. If removing--"

Hamer cut him off. "Him asking I am, mysire!"

Hide said, "My name is Hoof."

"Hide not it is?"

I saw Hide's eyes steal toward me, although I doubt that Judge Hamer did. "No," Hide said.

The woman interrupted, saying rather shrilly, "Hide always we calling him are, Mysire Rechtor."

Her husband snapped, "Silent you be, Versregal!"

"To your house confined he is, Mysire Strik?"

Hide said, "I am, but my brother isn't."

"Mysire Hide your brother is?"

Hide nodded, and one of the troopers stepped up behind him and cuffed the side of his head.

"To Judge Hamer loudly you must speak," Strik explained in a whisper.

Vadsig stepped forward, eyes blazing. "Not knowing he is! No crime he does! Why him you abuse? What justice this is?" And much more of the same--too much for me to record here even if I recalled it. When Hamer found out she was only a servant in Aanvagen's house, he had her gagged and tied to a chair.

"Mysire Hide. This Mysire Horn's son you are?"

"My name isn't Hide," Hide explained. "My name's Hoof. Hide's my brother. We're twins, and we changed places. We used to do it all the time when we were smaller to fool our father. He couldn't tell us apart."

"Mysire--"

"Hoof. We look exactly alike."

Aanvagen put in, "Mysire Horn three sons and a daughter having is."

Hamer silenced her with a glance.

Hide said, "I'd heard my brother was in trouble here, so I came to see if I couldn't help him, and we changed placed. He's on his way back home by now, I guess."

Hamer told the trooper to release me, and asked whether Hide was my son. I said he was.

"Three having you are, mysire? Saying this the woman is."

I nodded, and was knocked to my knees.