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  Aanvagen brought a most ample supper, accompanied by her portly husband, who was red-faced and panting after two flights of stairs. "My name-mysire… Beroep it is." He offered a very large and very soft hand, which I shook. "You Mysire Horn…" Another gasp for breath. "Mysire Rajan… Mysire Incanto… Mysire Silk-"

  "Good man!" This from Oreb.

  "Are. A man of many… Names you are." He smiled in a breathless fashion he plainly intended to be friendly.

  "A man of many names, perhaps, but I'm certainly not entitled to all those. Call me Horn, please."

  "You to my house I could not welcome… For the troopers watching were. Sorry I am." Yet another gasp. "Mysire Horn."

  I assured him that it was quite all right, that I bore no animus toward him or his wife. "You have fed me very well indeed and provided me with firewood, wash water, and ample coverings for this comfortable bed. Believe me, I'm very much aware that the conditions under which most prisoners live are not one-tenth as good."

  Aanvagen nudged her husband, who asked, "With gods you speak… Mysire Horn?"

  "Sometimes. And sometimes they condescend to reply. But I ought to have invited you both to sit down. I have only my bed, but you are very welcome to sit there."

  They did, and Aanvagen's husband got out a handkerchief with which he mopped his face and his bald head. "Nat. Him I know. A greedy thief he is."

  Aanvagen added hastily, "To others this you do not say, Mysire Horn."

  "Of course not."

  "Judge Hamer Nat's cousin is."

  Aanvagen's husband watched me for some reaction, but I tried to keep from showing what I felt.

  "Already this knowing you are?"

  "I knew that Dorp was governed by five judges, and that Nat was said to have a great deal of influence with them; but not that Nat was related to one. Am I to take that he's the judge who will try us?"

  Aanvagen's husband nodded gloomily; Aanvagen herself poked a second time at his well-padded ribs. "You must about our dreams ask, Beroep."

  "Mysire Horn not friendless is, first I say, woman. Poor, Judge Hamer him will make. Beaten, that also may be. But not friendless, he will be. Nat a greedy thief is. All Dorp knows."

  I thanked him and his wife very sincerely, and inquired about their dreams.

  "Beroep awake is, so he dreams. All through our house voices he hears."

  Aanvagen's husband nodded vigorously. "Talking and tapping they are, Mysire Horn. Whisper, whisper and tap, tap."

  "I see. You didn't get up to investigate?"

  "Asleep I am. I cannot."

  "I see. What did the voices say?"

  He shrugged. "Psst, psst, psst!"

  It was a passable imitation of Oreb's hoarse whisper, and I gave him a severe look to indicate that he was not to speak. He responded by saying "Good bird!" and "No, no!" quite loudly.

  "You're not giving me a lot to go on," I told Aanvagen's husband. "Let me hear your wife's dream before I attempt to interpret yours."

  "In my own house I am," she began eagerly, "in the big room for company. This room you see, mysire, when here you come."

  "Yes. Certainly."

  "With me two children sitting are. Darker than my cat one is, mysire. Beroep and I no children have. This you know?"

  I admitted that Vadsig had so informed me.

  "Girls in pretty dresses they are. Faces clean they have. Hair very nice, it is. A daughter you have, mysire?"

  "Yes. A daughter and three sons."

  Aanvagen's husband said, "A son by Strik kept is."

  "Yes, my son Hide, who was traveling with me. My sons Hoof and Sinew are still free, as far as I know."

  "From Dorp much traveling we are. To New Viron we go. Farther even, we sail." He waved a hand expansively. "Now travelers we arrest? Not good for traveling it is."

  "I understand."

  Aanvagen leaned toward me from her seat on my bed. "This these girls to me say. Bad with us it goes, for you keeping."

  I made what I hoped was an encouraging noise.

  "About your daughter they talk. Sick she is. Away with you her send we must. My cheeks they kiss." Aanvagen's formidable bosom rose and fell. "Mother, me they call, mysire. Bad things to me they don't want. Warned be! Warned be!"

  Oreb interpreted. "Watch out!"

  I asked, "Was there anything else about your dream that seemed significant to you?"

  Aanvagen's mouth opened, then closed again.

  "Was there any other sign associated with the gods?"

  Her husband inquired, "One sign already you finding are?"

  "Yes, of course. The two children. Molpe is the goddess of childhood, as you must surely know. Were there any animals, Aanvagen?"

  She shook her head. "Just the children and me there were."

  "Mice? Monkeys? Cattle? Songbirds?" I reminded myself so much of poor old Patera Remora then that I could not resist adding, "Vultures, eh? Hyenas-um-camels?"

  Aanvagen had heard only the first. "No mice, no rats in my house there are, mysire."

  "What about you?" I asked her husband. "Were there animals in your dream? Bats, for instance? Or cats?"

  "No, mysire. None." He sounded very positive.

  "I see. Oreb, I want you to speak freely. Do you think this a good man?"

  "Good man!"

  "What about Aanvagen here? Is she a good woman, too?"

  "Good girl!"

  "I agree. Beroep, could that have been the voice you heard? Could it have been my bird-or another, similar, bird? Think carefully before you reply."

  He stared at me for a moment before patting his forehead with his handkerchief again. "Possible it is, mysire. Not so I will not say."

  "That's interesting. My bird is a night chough; and the species is sacred to the god who governs the boundless abyss between the whorls, just as owls are to Tartaros. We have an indication of Molpe in your wife's dream, and an indication of the Outsider in yours." There was a knock at the door, and I called, "What is it, Vadsig?"

  "Merfrow Cijfer here is. Through our kitchen she comes, in our front room she sits. With Mistress to speak she wants."

  Aanvagen sought my permission with a glance, received it, and hurried out. "A moment only, mysire. Beroep."

  "A good woman she is," Aanvagen's husband told me as the door closed, "but no more brain than her cat she has. Better we without her talk. To the court you have thought given? To Judge Hamer? Not friendless you are, I say."

  I said that I had tried, but that I knew little of the politics of Dorp-only that I had done no wrong. "Speaking thus from ignorance, it would seem to me that my best chance is to get Nat to drop his charges. If I had the jewelry from my luggage-"

  Beroep shook his head regretfully. "This I cannot do, mysire. The inventory Judge Hamer has, by me signed. Fifty cards pay, this to me he would tell."

  "Most unfortunate."

  Again the gloomy nod. "Why you here are, mysire. This do not you wonder? Why your jailer I am?"

  I confessed that I had thought very little about it.

  "You will escape, this they hope. A hundred cards paying I am. Ruined I am."

  "Poor man!"

  Aanvagen's husband patted the bed on which he sat. "Many blankets you have. A fire you have. Good food you get."

  "So you won't be ruined. I understand. This is certainly very unfortunate. I take it that it would be useless for you to plead with Nat to drop the charges."

  "Me he hates." Beroep wiped sweat-beaded face again. "Bribe him I might. I will, this I think. A greedy thief he is. Friends might help."

  "Good. Who did you say is holding my son Hide?"

  "Strik he is. An honest trader like me he is."

  "Might he not assist you, too?"

  "This I will discover, mysire. It may be."

  "My son Hide is young and athletic. Headstrong, as all such young men are. He's far more likely to escape, I would say, than I am."

  "No go!"

  I looked up at Oreb on his perch near the c
himney. "All right, I won't. Beroep, you need not worry about my escaping. That won't happen; I give you my word. I can't speak for my son, however, since I can't communicate with him. You might want to tell your friend Strik so."

  "To him as you say I will speak, mysire. He may us help. It may be."

  "What about the man holding Jahlee, my daughter?"

  "Wijzer at sea is." Beroep pointed toward the floor. "That Cijfer, his wife is. But no money she gives unless Wijzer says."

  "Do you know when he might return to Dorp?"

  Aanvagen's husband shook his head, and I heard her voice from the stairs. "Beroep! A bus! A hus at our door was!"

  He rolled his eyes upward. "A shadow it is, mysire. Of this assured be."

  My door opened, revealing Aanvagen and a slightly slimmer, slightly younger woman with the same blue eyes, fair hair, and high complexion. "A hus at our door it is. Cijfer to our door it will not allow."

  When Aanvagen's husband spoke, it was with a world of skepticism in his voice. "A hus it is?"

  "Yes!" Cijfer's hands indicated a beast the size of a dray horse.

  I went to the door and called for Vadsig, then turned back to Aanvagen and her husband. "Those are steep stairs. I hope you won't mind if I ask your servant to help me instead of troubling you."

  He said, "You my guest are, mysire."

  Vadsig's voice floated up the stairwell. "What it is, mysire?"

  "Open the front door, please, and leave it open. Your master agrees that you are to do as I say. It's important."

  There was a lengthy pause, then the sound of Vadsig's hurrying feet.

  "Beroep, am I correct in thinking that if a hus-a wild hus-has come into Dorp, someone will shoot it?"

  He shook his head, and both women protested, horrified.

  "They won't?"

  "Bad luck it is!" This from the women in chorus.

  "Superstition it is," Aanvagen's husband explained, in the tone of one who tolerates the irrational beliefs of the ignorant. "If a beast into the town it comes, misfortune it brings. Back to the woodlands we must it drive. If killed it is, the misfortune in our town remains."

  I had been listening for the clatter of Babbie's hoofs on Aanvagen's wooden floors, and had not heard it. I called, "Vadsig, did you open that door as I asked you?"

  She replied, but I could not understand what she said. "Tell her to come up here," Aanvagen's husband advised.

  As loudly as I could, I shouted, "Come here, please, Vadsig!" and fell to coughing.

  Aanvagen said, "Tea with brandy in it you need, mysire. Get it you shall. See to it I will."

  "Alone we should talk," her husband muttered. "That better would be. This hus in my house you wish."

  I nodded. "Yes, I do."

  "Not a wild hus it is. Not a shadow either it is. A tame hus? Yours, mysire?"

  I nodded again.

  "Like your bird it is."

  Oreb bobbed agreement. "Good bird!"

  "Somewhat like him at least. My hus-his name is Babbie-does not speak, of course. But he's a clean, gentle animal. We were separated, and he seems to have gone back to the woman who gave him to me. Some time ago, she learned where I was and promised to return him."

  Vadsig bustled through the doorway. "Yes, Mysire Horn?"

  I said, "I simply wanted to know whether you opened the front door as I asked, Vadsig."

  "Oh, yes, mysire."

  "You a big animal seeing are?" Aanvagen put in.

  "Yes, mistress."

  "What sort of animal, Vadsig?"

  "Mules, mysire. Pulling carts they are."

  "A hus you seeing are?" Cijfer inquired urgently.

  "A hus? Oh, no, Merfrow Cijfer."

  "Did you leave the door open, Vadsig, when you came up?"

  "No, mysire. Cold in the street it is."

  "How long did you leave it open?"

  "Till you up to come telling me are, mysire."

  Oreb dropped to my shoulder, giving me a quizzical look to indicate that he would go outside and look for the hus if asked. I shook my head-unobtrusively, I hope.

  Aanvagen's husband asked, "No hus you seeing are, Vadsig?"

  "No, Master."

  He turned to Cijfer. "A hus at my door you seeing are?"

  "Yes, Beroep. Never a hus so big I see. Tusks as long as my hand they are."

  "This your Babbie is?" he asked me.

  "Yes, I'm quite sure it is."

  "Your Babbie Vadsig hurting is?"

  "I certainly don't think so."

  He made a gesture of dismissal. "Vadsig, to the door again go. If a hus you see, the door open leave and us you tell. If no hus you see, the door you close and your work you do."

  She ducked in a sketchy curtsy and hurried away.

  Cijfer offered him the letter I had penned a few hours before, her hand shaking sufficiently to rattle the paper. "Finding this in the sleeping girl's room I am, Beroep. It reading you are? Aanvagen, too?"

  They bent their heads over it.

  "Your daughter she is, mysire?" Her voice trembled.

  I nodded.

  "Sleeping all day she is. Sleeping all night she is not. Walking she is, talking is." She turned to Aanvagen, her voice trembling. "My pictures from the walls breaking!"

  Downstairs, something fell with a crash. Vadsig screamed.

  6. DARK EMPTY ROOMS

  Somethin' there, bucky." Pig's hand, groping through darkness that for Pig had no shadeup, found his arm and closed around it, pointed nails digging into his flesh. "Hoose, maybe."

  "Do you think they might let us sleep there? I don't see any lights."

  "Was nae lights ter Hound's, neither, yet said."

  A short distance ahead Hound remarked, "Oil that will burn in lamps is very dear, and candles almost impossible to find at any price." After a moment he added, "I really can't say how near the city we are, but we've come a long way. I for one am ready for a rest. What about you, Horn?"

  Pig released his arm, and the tapping of Pig's scabbard indicated that Pig was moving to his right. He said, "Pig's been walking, while I've done nothing but sit upon the back of this wonderfully tolerant donkey of yours. I feel sure that Pig-and my donkey-must be far more fatigued than I am."

  'Wall." Pig's voice sounded nearby. "Nae winders, nor nae doors neither." There was a pause. "Here's ther gate. Wide h'open, ter."

  "No gate!" Oreb informed him.

  "There's a vacant mansion back there," Hound explained. "I've passed it many times. We could camp in it, if everybody's willing. It should keep off the rain, and rain's likely after this heat. How do you feel about it, Horn? Would you be willing to stop?"

  "Yes." He got out the striker Tansy had given him. "I'd like to see it, if it belonged to a man named Blood. Did it?"

  "I haven't the least notion who it belonged to. All I can tell you is that nobody's lived in it for as long as I've been taking this road. It's pretty remote, and there are a lot of empty houses. Most are in better shape than this one."

  "Then I want to stop, if you and Pig are willing." The striker flared.

  "I wouldn't use up more of that candle than you can help."

  Pig's voice came from a greater distance. "Gang h'in, bucky. Yer comin'?"

  "Yes, I am." He dismounted.

  The wall was ruinous; the tangled iron through which Maytera Marble had picked her way had vanished. "I fought in a battle here, Oreb," he whispered to the bird on his shoulder.

  "No fight!"

  "Sometimes one must. Sometimes you do yourself."

  Oreb fidgeted, his bill clacking unhappily. "Bad place."

  "Oh, no doubt. They were holding Silk here, and Chenille, Patera Incus, and Master Xiphias. Not so long ago, I imagined Xiphias was walking along beside me. I wish he'd come back." He led his donkey through the gate and raised his lantern, hoping for a glimpse of the villa that had been Blood's; but the feeble light of the candle scarcely revealed the distant, pale bulk of Scylla's fountain. Under his breath he added, "O
r that Silk would."

  "Bad place!"

  Behind them, Hound chuckled. "It's haunted, naturally. All these old places are supposed to be."

  "It is indeed." The man Hound addressed waved his knobbed staff before him, although the light from his lantern showed no obstruction. "There should be a dead talus right here. I wonder what has become of it."

  "Well, I wonder what's become of your friend Pig. I don't see him up ahead."

  "You're right. Oreb, will you look for him, please? If he's in trouble, come back and tell us at once."

  "Now that's a handy pet." Hound caught up. "You've been here before?"

  "Twenty years ago. I had a slug gun instead of a stick then, and a thousand friends instead of two. No doubt I should say I like this better, because no one's trying to kill me; but the truth is I don't." He pointed back to the gate with his staff. "The Guard floaters broke through there and came in with buzz guns blazing at the same time we swarmed over the wall-volunteers like me, and Guardsmen, and even Trivigaunti pterotroopers. There were taluses in here, but between the floaters and us, they never had a chance. Others did much more, I'm sure; but I got off a shot before-"

  Oreb returned, dropping onto his shoulder. "Pig come."

  "He's all right then?"

  Oreb croaked deep in his throat, and Hound said, "I couldn't understand him that time."

  "He didn't say anything, just made a noise. It means he doesn't know what to say or doesn't know how to say it. So something's the matter with Pig that Oreb can't explain, or that he doesn't know how to tell us. Is he bleeding, Oreb?"

  "No hurt."

  "That's good. He didn't fall, I hope?"

  "No, no."

  The fountain was dry, its basin filled with rotting leaves and its once-white stone dirty gray. One of Scylla's arms had been broken off.

  "Do people still worship her, Hound?"

  Hound hesitated. "Sometimes. I'm not religious myself, so I don't pay a lot of attention, but I don't think it's like it used to be. They offer ducks now, mostly, or that's what Tansy's mother told me once."

  "What about theophanies?"

  "I'm afraid I don't know that word."

  "Girl come," Oreb explained.

  "Does Scylla appear in your Sacred Windows?"

  "Oh, that." Hound urged his donkey forward, and jerked the rope of those he led. "Not like it used to be, I suppose. She comes to the window in the Grand Manteion two or three times a year, or the augurs say she does."