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in the name of what they call true religion."
"But what have I to do with the Episcopals?" asked the girl.
"Child, fool, use your Art. Not to the death; they'd only fill the office
with another man, but paralyze, cripple, drive idiot The Arch-Episcopal
Groadon, notably. His loss would hurt them most"
Lalette sat up. "Ser Mathurin, you do not by any means understand this matter
of the Art. Groadon is protected by the holy oils, and nothing I can do will
bite on him."
"It is you that do not understand. I do assure you that if Groadon be taken
in a moment of anger, as today, or other violent passion, neither his oils nor
any other thing can protect him from your ministrations. Be assured, we will
provide the occasion."
Lalette's mouth twitched. (She wanted to cry; "Not for any reward or
punishment you can give!" but) it was a moment before she said; "Am I the only
 witch in Dossola?"
Mathurin made a grating sound. "No. I'll be open; we are pressing the
search. Have found three others  aside from those who claimed the Art, but
could witch nothing more consequential than a frog or chicken. One is an old
beldame who has nearly lost her wits, and can be made to understand nothing.
One's a young girl  witch enough, but never taught, did not know the
patterns, and besides, she ran away. One we caught, not found  she was in
Chancellor Florestan's pay." He drew a finger across his throat. "None of
them heiress to a Blue Star."
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"I am not sure I can follow all the patterns myself," said Lalette. "I
have used the Art  so little."
Mathurin looked at her sharply, "Hark!" he said. "I see your slowness, but
you more than another should be on our side; as witch and woman. The Art has
almost died out; driven down by priest and Episcopal. There are likely many
with the right inheritance who do not know it. Never taught. Yet it's a
woman's defence. We have the butler Tuolén's Blue Star, for instance. But
where's the girl can bring it to life? We do not even know her name."
He whirled suddenly and flung out an arm toward Rodvard in an oratorical
gesture. "Bergelin! I remember; that was the other matter. You were in the
Office of Pedigree; know its secrets. Forget the great assembly for the time;
that's under control. Until the new court's set up your task is seeking out
Tuolén's heiress. I'll give you an authority."
"It may be somewhat harder than you think," said Rodvard.
"I did not say it would be easy. I said it would be done," said
Mathurin. "Slair, let us go."
II
When they were out, he turned to look at Lalette. She had sagged down, with
her face in the pillow, and now without moving, she said as before;
"Rodvard."
He went across the room and put an arm around her. "What is it?"
"My mother. She is with the court, and she knows the patterns. If that man
takes her, he will have her throat cut."
(The fate of many thousands, and the guarantee of the future, with the
Art not in the hands of ignorant peasants, but women of intelligence and good
will  balanced against one lie. But how to say it?) He said; "Has she shown
so much concern for you?"
Lalette twisted under his arm. "If she had, would I know it? You hold me a
prisoner  you and your Dr. Remigorius, who does not deliver letters, and your
Mme. Kaja, who will sell me, and your Mathurin, who wants to cut my mother's
throat. I never knew what dirt was till I knew you."
(Rodvard felt the blood beat at his temples; he wanted to strike her, to make
a fiery retort.) He released her, stood up, and began to walk the floor.
(No: no. A quarrel so entered could never be composed. Look beyond it,
Rodvard; see how the world would be without her. Somewhere perhaps there was
another who would have more response for an interior fidelity deeper than any
single act; would not drive him from her side with bitter words when . . . He
thought of Maritzl of Stojenrosek; and by this route came again to the high
purpose. No. It was mere selfishness to let his own thought, his own
problem, stand first; the very thing he had wished to bring her to see. Keep
the peace.)
A small sound made him turn. She was just settling into place among the
covers, and her face turned toward him. "Oh, Rodvard," she said, "help me. I
can't do it. The Episcopal."
Nothing more was said on the subject, but that night they slept in each
other's arms.
Chapter 26 The Court of Special Cases
I
Punctual to the hour, as Rodvard and Lalette sat at breakfast with the woman
who cared for the kitchen and a Green Islands buyer of northern wools, there
arrived a messenger bearing the authority signed by Mathurin to consult all
documents and registers in the Office of Pedigree, even those hitherto held
under ecclesiastical seal. For Lalette also, a note; the Arch-Episcopal had
declared himself in seclusion for prayer, and she would be notified further.
Between them that morning there was a truce to contention; they walked for a
while in the gardens among dead rustling leaves, and she kissed him sweetly
when he left.
On the way to the Office of Pedigree, Rodvard thought of Asper Poltén and the
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rest when he walked in with an authority to examine the sealed registers, but
this small triumph was denied him. Poltén was nowhere to be seen, and in the
distributing office was only an old, dry, dusty man Rodvard remembered as
having seen once or twice with some document close to his nose. He held [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]