‘I cannot, alas, think of a single servant here who would touch your whim, as you so quaintly call it. As for the rest, let it not be said I am remiss in according fellow seneschals every courtesy as befits a guest of my temple.’
‘Your temple, is it?’ Iskaral Pust sniggered. ‘Not for long, but say nothing at the moment. Leave her such pathetic delusions. Smile, yes, and nod — and how in the Abyss did
The bhokarala were now crowding behind the High Priestess, heads bobbing.
She swung about. ‘I don’t know. There are wards. . should be impossible. Most disturbing indeed.’
‘Never mind,’ Iskaral Pust said. ‘Lead on, underling.’
One fine eyebrow lifted. ‘You claim to be the Magus of High House Shadow — that is quite an assertion. Have you proof?’
‘Proof? I am what I am and that is that. Pray, pray. Pray, I mean, do pray and perchance all manner of revelation will afflict you, humble you, reduce you to wondering adoration. Oh,’ he added, ‘wait until she does just that! Oh, the song will change then, won’t it just! Never mind servants servicing my whim, it will be this glorious woman!’
She stared at him a moment longer, then, in a whirl of robes, swung about and gestured that he follow. The grace she no doubt sought was fouled almost immediately as she had to kick and stumble her way through the squall of bhokaral, each of which bared teeth in rollicking but silent laughter. She shot a glance back at Iskaral Pust, but not, he was certain, in time to see his noiseless laugh.
Into the sanctum they went.
‘Not long,’ Iskaral Pust whispered. ‘Those doors need paint, yes. Not long now at all. .’
‘Gods below,’ the guard gasped, ‘you’re bigger than a Barghast!’
Mappo Runt ducked his head, embarrassed that he had so shocked this passing watchman. The guard had staggered back, clutching momentarily at his chest — yes, he was past his prime, but it seemed that the gesture had been just that, a gesture, and the Trell’s sudden dread that he had inadvertently sent the first citizen he met stumbling through Hood’s Gate slowly gave way to shame. ‘I am sorry, sir,’ he now said. ‘I thought to ask you a question — nothing more.’
The guard lifted his lantern higher between them. ‘Are you a demon, then?’
‘You regularly encounter demons on your patrols? A truly extraordinary city.’
‘Of course not. I mean, it’s rare.’
‘Ah. I am a Trell, from the plains and hills east of Nemil, which lies west of the Jhag Odhan in Seven Cities,’
‘What, then, was your question?’
‘I seek the Temple of Burn, sir,’
‘I think it best that I escort you there, Trell. You have been keeping to the alleys this night, haven’t you?’
‘I thought it best.’
‘Rightly so. And you and I shall do the same. In any case, you are in the Gadrobi District, while the temple you want is in the Daru District. We have some way to go.’
‘You are very generous with your time, sir.’
The guard smiled. ‘Trell, you plunging into any crowded street is likely to cause a riot. By taking charge of you, I hope to prevent that. Thus, not generous. Simply doing my duty.’
Mappo bowed again. ‘I thank you even so.’
‘A moment, while I douse this light, then follow me — closely, please.’
The fete’s celebrants in this quarter seemed to be concentrated in the main streets, bathed in the blue glow of the gas lamps. It was not difficult to avoid such places with the watchman guiding him down narrow, twisting and turning alleys and lanes. And those few figures they encountered quickly slunk away upon seeing the guard’s uniform (and, perhaps, Mappo’s massive bulk).
Until, behind a decrepit tavern of some sort, they came upon two corpses. Swearing under his breath, the guard crouched down beside one, fumbling to relight his lantern. ‘This is becoming a problem,’ he muttered, as he cranked the wick high and a golden glow filled the area, revealing filth-smeared cobblestones and the gleam of pooled blood. Mappo watched as he rolled over the first body. ‘This one’s a plain beating. Fists and boots — I knew him, poor man. Losing a battle with spirits. . well, the battle’s over now, Beru bless his soul.’ He moved on to the next one. ‘Ah, yes. Hood take the one that did this — four others just the same. That we know of. We still cannot fathom the weapon he uses. . perhaps a shovel handle. Gods, but it’s brutal.’
‘Sir,’ ventured Mappo, ‘it seems you have more pressing tasks this night. Directions-’
‘No, I will take you, Trell. Both have been dead for a couple of bells now — a little longer won’t matter. I think it’s time,’ he added, straightening, ‘for a mage or a priest to be brought into this.’
‘I wish you success,’ Mappo said.
