Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [337]
He took SartoriIrvrash’s arm and led him behind one of the coaches for privacy, where only the guileless eyes of the kaidaws were upon them.
‘Even my father cannot buy friendship or love. These Sibornalese buy friendship. It’s their way. They’d trade their mothers for peace. They have been greasing their safe passage to Borlien by presenting the chiefs along the route with matchlocks, as they say. I say there is no match for them. Even Akhanaba’s favourite king, JandolAnganol, son of VarpalAnganol, father of a Madi-lover – but not so mad in that direction as he – even that monarch of Matrassyl was no match for matchlocks. They did for him in the Battle of the Cosgatt. Did you ever see the wound in his thigh?’
‘It kept your father abed. I saw only its effects, not the wound.’
‘He goes without a limp. Lucky not to go without a hard-on! That wound was a kiss from Sibornal.’
Lowering his voice, SartoriIrvrash said, ‘You well know that I never trusted the Sibs. When the matchlocks were demonstrated in court, I advised that no Sibs should be present. My word went unheeded. It was shortly after the demonstration that Io Pasharatid disappeared.’
Roba lifted a cautionary finger and wagged it slowly. ‘Disappeared because his swindles were then revealed – revealed to his wife, our fair companion, and his own ambassadorial staff. There was a local young lady involved, who acted as go-between … and whom I also go between, on occasions … that’s how I know all about Io Pasharatid.’
He laughed. ‘The matchlocks which Taynth Indred had in his possession – which he presented so arrogantly to my eagle-father – which my eagle-father took so pusillanimously, because he would take a plague scab from a beggar if it was offered – those matchlocks were sold to Taynth Indred cheap by Pasharatid. Why cheap? Because they were not his to sell, in which case he could not avoid making a profit. The guns were the property of his government, intended to buy friendship with such as the rogues you see here, and with such as Dervlish the Skull, who has proved his friendship a thousand times over.’
‘Unusual behaviour for a Sib. Especially one in high office.’
‘High office, low character. It was because of the young lady. Did you never see the way he eyed my fair mother – I mean, she who was my mother before she went away without farewell?’
‘Pasharatid would have been put to death if your father had discovered his crime. I assume he is now back in Sibornal.’
RobaydayAnganol shrugged eloquently. ‘We are following him. Madame Dienu is after his blood. To understand his lust for other ladies, simply contemplate union with her. Would you couple with a matchlock? … He’ll be busy concocting a lying tale, to cover his sins. She will arrive and seek to destroy it. Ah, Rushven, no drama like a family drama! They will have old Io locked up in the Great Wheel of Kharnabhar, mark my words. It was a place of religion, now they lock up criminals there. Well, monks are also prisoners … What a drama to come. You know the old saying, “More than an arm up a Sibornalese sleeve.” I almost wish I were coming with you, to see what happens.’
‘But you are coming! My dear boy!’
‘Ah, unky, no affection! Not for Anganols! No protests. I’m leaving you here. You go north with Madame, I go back south with this coach. I have my parents to look after … my ex-parents …’
SartoriIrvrash’s face showed his distress. ‘Don’t leave me, lad, not with these villains. I shall be dead in no time.’
Making funny running-away gestures, the prince said, ‘Well, that’s escaping from being human, isn’t it? I’m going to be a Madi in no time. Another escape, another escapade. It’s the Ahd for me.’
He jumped forward and kissed SartoriIrvrash on his bald pate.
‘Good luck in your new career, old uncle. Green things will grow from us both!’
He leaped into the coach, cracked his whip over the hoxneys, and was