Perhaps that is literally true. Irrelevant, however. For although I must leave my business behind, I have orders to respect—or ignore at my peril.”
“What's this Noonfirth prig raving about?” shouted Rose with a glance at his seer.
“He's no Noonfirther,” said Oggosk flatly.
“He's as black as a tarboy's heel.”
“I am a Slevran, Captain Rose.”
Momentary confusion. Lady Oggosk dropped her pipe. It would scarcely have been more startling if the man had claimed to be a lynx. The Slevrans were savage men of the far interior, nomads of the steppe. It was they who attacked and slaughtered caravans making west to the Idhe Lands. The Emperor sent legions to exterminate them, but they merely withdrew into the hills and waited for the soldiers to grow bored and hungry, and as soon as these expeditionaries left the raids began anew. Were they even men? some asked. Did they have morals, language, souls?
“You're a liar as well as mad,” said Rose. He waved impatiently at the bewildered coachman. “Drive on, you. We've a commission to respect.”
“I have the same commission,” said Bolutu, his hand still on the door.
“You're a barking Noonfirth dog!”
“No, Captain, I have never been to the Summer Realm. But you will be taking on a cargo of animals at Etherhorde, and I am a veterinarian. And I am ordered, by His Supremacy Magad the Fifth, to take my place as such aboard the Chathrand . I yet hope to soothe your anxieties about my person.”
“Why do you wear a monk's hat?”
Bolutu smiled. “I was raised by the Templar brothers, and keep the journeyman's vows. Some call me Brother Bolutu, but Mister is quite acceptable.”
“If you're not a Noonfirther, where'd you learn that tea-and-pastries talk?”
“In Yelig House.”
Shocked silence again. The man was claiming to be an intimate of the Chathrand Trading Family. Rose looked at Oggosk, but the witch drew the hood of her cloak over her head, whispering and muttering. The black man climbed into the coach and sat beside her. Relieved, the driver raised the footstool and slammed the door shut.
The trip resumed. Oggosk muttered in Swalish, which the captain did not speak. Having been at sea for forty years, however, he knew a smattering of words in many tongues: jult , which Oggosk said many times with happy emphasis, meant “disease.” At her side the black man sat motionless, eyelids half lowered. Rose thought suddenly of how he would look tumbling over the Chathrand's bulwarks, head over heels into the waves. Then he recalled the Special Protection every captain of Arqual swore to provide friends of the Company. If harm befell this Bolutu, a Company inspection would follow. Merely to be the subject of such an inspection would mark one for life.
“Is your cat a woken animal, Duchess?” asked Bolutu suddenly.
Oggosk made a rude sound in her throat: “Glah.”
Bolutu was unperturbed. “Do you know, Captain, that the frequency of wakings is exploding? How many such animals have you heard of, in all your life? Three in twenty-eight years, for my part, and just one—a lovely bull with a taste for choral music—did I meet with face to face. But this year all bets are off! Just last month a she-wolf on Kushal pleaded for her life: sadly the hunters killed her anyway. From Bramian comes news of a stork eager to talk gold miners out of poisoning his lake. And several cats have been heard to speak in the alleys of Etherhorde itself. The Mariner had a report.”
Sniraga purred, sliding among their legs. Rose stared out through the window. Accidents, he thought. So many kinds of accidents …
They had nearly reached the port: he could hear a vague roaring that could only be the muster of the crew. Then the carriage stopped again. The door opened, and before him stood Ignus Chad-fallow.
This time Rose was prepared, if not pleased: the doctor was Special Envoy-at-Large to His Supremacy, dispatched throughout the world as the human seal on certain
“What's this Noonfirth prig raving about?” shouted Rose with a glance at his seer.
“He's no Noonfirther,” said Oggosk flatly.
“He's as black as a tarboy's heel.”
“I am a Slevran, Captain Rose.”
Momentary confusion. Lady Oggosk dropped her pipe. It would scarcely have been more startling if the man had claimed to be a lynx. The Slevrans were savage men of the far interior, nomads of the steppe. It was they who attacked and slaughtered caravans making west to the Idhe Lands. The Emperor sent legions to exterminate them, but they merely withdrew into the hills and waited for the soldiers to grow bored and hungry, and as soon as these expeditionaries left the raids began anew. Were they even men? some asked. Did they have morals, language, souls?
“You're a liar as well as mad,” said Rose. He waved impatiently at the bewildered coachman. “Drive on, you. We've a commission to respect.”
“I have the same commission,” said Bolutu, his hand still on the door.
“You're a barking Noonfirth dog!”
“No, Captain, I have never been to the Summer Realm. But you will be taking on a cargo of animals at Etherhorde, and I am a veterinarian. And I am ordered, by His Supremacy Magad the Fifth, to take my place as such aboard the Chathrand . I yet hope to soothe your anxieties about my person.”
“Why do you wear a monk's hat?”
Bolutu smiled. “I was raised by the Templar brothers, and keep the journeyman's vows. Some call me Brother Bolutu, but Mister is quite acceptable.”
“If you're not a Noonfirther, where'd you learn that tea-and-pastries talk?”
“In Yelig House.”
Shocked silence again. The man was claiming to be an intimate of the Chathrand Trading Family. Rose looked at Oggosk, but the witch drew the hood of her cloak over her head, whispering and muttering. The black man climbed into the coach and sat beside her. Relieved, the driver raised the footstool and slammed the door shut.
The trip resumed. Oggosk muttered in Swalish, which the captain did not speak. Having been at sea for forty years, however, he knew a smattering of words in many tongues: jult , which Oggosk said many times with happy emphasis, meant “disease.” At her side the black man sat motionless, eyelids half lowered. Rose thought suddenly of how he would look tumbling over the Chathrand's bulwarks, head over heels into the waves. Then he recalled the Special Protection every captain of Arqual swore to provide friends of the Company. If harm befell this Bolutu, a Company inspection would follow. Merely to be the subject of such an inspection would mark one for life.
“Is your cat a woken animal, Duchess?” asked Bolutu suddenly.
Oggosk made a rude sound in her throat: “Glah.”
Bolutu was unperturbed. “Do you know, Captain, that the frequency of wakings is exploding? How many such animals have you heard of, in all your life? Three in twenty-eight years, for my part, and just one—a lovely bull with a taste for choral music—did I meet with face to face. But this year all bets are off! Just last month a she-wolf on Kushal pleaded for her life: sadly the hunters killed her anyway. From Bramian comes news of a stork eager to talk gold miners out of poisoning his lake. And several cats have been heard to speak in the alleys of Etherhorde itself. The Mariner had a report.”
Sniraga purred, sliding among their legs. Rose stared out through the window. Accidents, he thought. So many kinds of accidents …
They had nearly reached the port: he could hear a vague roaring that could only be the muster of the crew. Then the carriage stopped again. The door opened, and before him stood Ignus Chad-fallow.
This time Rose was prepared, if not pleased: the doctor was Special Envoy-at-Large to His Supremacy, dispatched throughout the world as the human seal on certain
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