Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [215]
As he strode into the alley, all was quiet and the side street deserted except for a man he paid to guard his door. In the market, people were about of necessity, attending to their day’s requirements. The little apothecary’s stall, with its pots ranked imposingly, was doing good business. There were still merchants with bright stalls and bright robes on their backs. Equally, there were also people moving by with loads on their backs, leaving the threatened city before things got worse.
Dathka saw nothing of it. He moved like an automaton, eyes fixed ahead. The tension in the city was one with his personal tension. He had reached a point where he could tolerate it no longer. He would kill Raynil Layan, and Vry too if need be, and have done with it. His lips curled back from his teeth as he rehearsed the fatal blow over and over in his mind. Men started away from him, fearing his fixed look presaged the onset of fever.
He knew where Vry had her secret room; his spies kept him informed. He thought to himself, If I ruled here, I would close down the academy for good. Nobody ever had the courage to make that decision final. I would. Now’s the time to strike, using the excuse that classes at the academy spread the pest. That would really hurt her.
‘Take thought brother, take thought! Pray with the Takers to be spared, hear the word of great Naba’s Akha …’
He brushed by the street preacher. He would have those fools off the street, too, if he ruled.
Near the Yuli Lane hoxney stables, he was approached by a man he knew, a mercenary and animal trader.
‘Well?’
‘He’s up there how, sir.’ The man signalled with his eyebrows towards the garret window of one of the wooden buildings facing the stables. These were mainly hostels, rooming houses or drink shops, which acted as a quasi-respectable front to the music rooms and bawdy houses ranged behind them.
Dathka nodded curtly.
He pushed through a bead curtain, to which fresh orling and scantiom had been tied, and entered one of the drink shops. The cramped dark room was empty of customers. On the walls, animal skulls gave dry, serrated smiles. The owner stood against his counter, arms folded, gazing into space. Already primed, he merely lowered his head so that his double chins spread on his chest, a signal to Dathka to do whatever he wished to do. Dathka passed him by and climbed the stairs.
Stale smells greeted him, of cabbage and worse things. He walked by the wall, but the boards still creaked. He listened at the end door, heard voices. Being of nervous disposition, Raynil Layan would be sure to have barred his door. Dathka knocked on the cracked panels.
‘Message for you, sir,’ he said in a muffled voice. ‘Urgent, from the mint.’
Smiling a ghastly smile, he stood close, listening as the bolts were drawn inside the room. As soon as the door opened a crack, he burst in, flinging the door wide. Raynil Layan fell back, crying in terror. At the sight of the dagger, he ran to the window and called once for help. Dathka grasped him by the neck and flung him against the bed.
‘Dathka!’ Vry sat in the bed, pulling a sheet over her nudity. ‘Get out of here, you rat’s eddre!’
For answer, he kicked the door shut without looking round. He went over to Raynil Layan, who was picking himself up and groaning.
‘I know you’re going to kill me, I can see it, I can tell,’ the master of the mint said, putting out a tremblingly protective hand. ‘Spare me, please, I’m not your enemy. I can help you.’
‘I’m going to kill you with as much compassion as you killed old Master Datnil.’
Raynil Layan rose slowly, hiding his nudity, keeping a wary eye on his attacker.
‘I didn’t do that. Not myself. Aoz Roon ordered his death. It was legal, really. The law was broken. Killing me isn’t legal. Tell him, Vry. Listen, Dathka – Master Datnil gave corps secrets away, he showed the secret book of the corps to Shay Tal. Not all of it. Not the worst thing. You ought to know about that.’
Dathka paused. ‘That world’s dead, all