Chapter 3 #3
He nodded. “Blessed are those who have seen and yet have not believed,” he said.
“It takes a special kind of idiot, and you know what, I rather like special people. So much so that I’m prepared to overlook the word monster, which is denigratory and probably counts as hate speech.
I shall try not to let it sour what I hope will be a long and fruitful working relationship. ”
I jumped up, then sat down again. “Quite,” he said. “There’s no call to get all worked up, because of course I can’t be what I say I am. Though, for the record, I haven’t said anything. Have I?”
“What,” I said, “do you want?”
“Ah.” Broad smile. “That’s better. So much more businesslike than all that silly posturing. What do I want? Well, let’s see. This is mostly just a chance for me to introduce myself, getting to know you, that sort of thing.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“It’s the natural thing to do. I’ve been assigned as your new case worker, and I believe in being absolutely upfront and honest about who I am and what I do, whenever that’s possible.
I don’t sneak about watching people through keyholes and cracks in shutters.
I walk up to them, shake hands and say hello. ”
He stuck out his hand. I’m not in the least bothered by spiders.
Svangerd is, and maybe you are; in which case, imagine you’re lying on your back with your head clamped in a vice so it can’t move, and there’s a spider walking about on your face.
A bit like that. “You can do what you damned well like,” I said.
“I have no idea how you found out about the box, and I don’t care.
Just stay out of my way or so help me I’ll smash your face in. Understood?”
He turned his head ninety degrees to the left, then back again, then ninety degrees to the right.
“The other cheek,” he explained. “It means, go ahead and hit me if it’ll make you feel any better.
Go on, there’s nobody looking. You look like thumping somebody would do you good.
I won’t make a fuss or report you to the magistrate. ”
I noticed that my right fist was clenched. I opened it slowly. “Fine,” I said. “You don’t want anything, except to play games and risk a broken jaw. You know about the box but you don’t want it. What do you want? My soul?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s a stupid misconception,” he said, “which we really don’t like to see encouraged.
We don’t go around stealing people’s souls, like pickpockets at a fair.
We’re in it for the long game, as you perfectly well know.
” He paused, then smiled again. “Sorry,” he said, “it’s a bit of a sore topic.
Feel free to needle me about it if you wish, but we both know the score. ”
I looked at him. I felt like I wanted to strip off all my flesh with a bit of broken glass and wash my bones in lye. “Have you finished?” I said. “Can I go now?”
“Your friend.”
“What about her?”
He beamed. “It’s really rather cute,” he said.
“You – let’s say, you admire her tremendously.
But you’re a virgin; you joined the order when you were twelve years old; the lusts of the flesh intrigue you and terrify you in roughly equal measure and if a woman were to put her hand up your habit you’d run a mile. She, on the other hand—”
“Stop it.”
“She, on the other hand, got sold to a whorehouse at more or less the same age as you joined the order, so her perspective on the act of love is rather different from yours, and considerably better informed. If you ever lay a finger on her she’ll snap it off like a carrot, but because you’re a man, not specifically because you’re you.
Actually, she’s amazingly healthy and well-adjusted considering what she’s been through, which can only be attributed to her faith, which is pure and clear and absolutely indestructible.
Oh, sorry, did you want to hit me? I’ll try and keep still. ”
I wanted to hit him, very much. “Is there any point to this?” I said. “Or are you just enjoying yourself?”
“Guilty as charged.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry, but you asked for it. In future, let’s make it easy for each other and try and do without all the posturing. In a posturing match I’m bound to win, and it gives me no pleasure. How does that sound?”
“Tell me what you want,” I said, “and then for God’s sake leave me alone.”
“For God’s sake,” he repeated. “Just a common expression or formula, so I won’t hold you to it, this time. I think I told you what I wanted. I’m just saying hello, making myself known to you. After all, we’re supposed to be diplomats, aren’t we?”
I’d been too busy feeling disgusted to think. The way he said supposed.
“You’re here to murder somebody,” he went on.
“Which is absolutely fine by us, by the way. Not because it’s murder, but because it’ll advance the medium-term strategy and bring us one step closer to a number of objectives.
We could reach those objectives by a whole heap of other methods, of course, so we don’t really care one way or another.
So you can set your mind at rest, we won’t be interfering.
You carry on, and best of luck to you. I’d go a step further and say, if there’s anything we can do to help, feel free to ask.
But I don’t suppose you’d like that. No, thought not.
Ah well. The offer stands, in case you change your mind.
” He gave me a wicked look. “Out of interest,” he said, “are you going to tell her about this conversation?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Really? I’d have thought she’s got a right to know. Still, that’s between you and your conscience. I imagine she’d hit the roof if she ever found out you’d kept it from her. Lucky for you, you’re the designated point of contact, so I only get to talk to you, not her.”
“I’d stay clear of her if I were you,” I said. “If you told her all that stuff, she’d cut your head off.”
“Which is probably why you’re the designated point of contact,” he said.
“Well, that explains that, then. Actually, I’d sort of figured that out for myself.
” He stood up. “Will you just look at the time,” he said.
“I’ve been nattering away, and you’ve missed the debate you particularly wanted to hear.
Sorry about that. It was thoughtless of me.
Tell you what, I’ll have a transcript made and sent to you.
Not quite the same thing as seeing it live, but better than nothing. ”
“No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself. It was actually really rather good. Beppa made a point about the dual procession of the unified essence that left Caradacus without a leg to stand on. Still, spilled milk and all that. Be seeing you.”
“I do not believe,” I said, “in the Loyal Opposition.”
“Bless you, my child. And stay well clear of the fermented cabbage. You know it doesn’t agree with you.”
I tried to grab him, but he slipped past my hand as though it wasn’t there and walked sedately to the door that leads into the Mercy Chapel. I ran after him but I couldn’t see him anywhere.
“It was a lot of theological stuff,” she told me. “Boring, and a bit blasphemous, if you ask me. People shouldn’t talk about that sort of thing; it’s not respectful.”
“Did Beppa disprove Caradacus’ position on the dual procession of the unified essence? Come on, it’s important.”
She yawned. “Well, he said something that made everybody start clapping, and the man he’d been arguing with looked daggers at him. Why’s it important? And who was that short man you were talking to?”
I wanted to tell her so much. But if I did, I knew what the result would be.
Sister Svangerd isn’t afraid of anything, but the agencies of Evil terrify her.
Which isn’t a contradiction. The agencies of Evil don’t exist, therefore they’re not a thing, therefore she’s not afraid of any thing.
Even so, I needed her sharp and at the top of her game if we were to get out of Choris alive, not cowering in front of an altar with her rosary gripped between her fingers.
“I don’t know,” I said. “He was making out he’s on to us, but I don’t think he really knows anything. ”
I had her attention. “You clown,” she said. “If he knows what we’re here for, we’ve got to get rid of him. Who’s he working for?”
I shrugged. “He wasn’t easy to get information out of,” I said.
“Bet I could.”
“Probably not a good idea,” I said. “We really don’t want to draw attention to ourselves unless we absolutely have to. He didn’t know anything, trust me. He was just fishing.”
“You’ve gone and made a mess of everything,” she said. “What did you tell him?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“All right, let me think.” She sat down on the same stone bench he’d sat on, closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.
For Svangerd, thinking is a physical activity.
“All right,” she said. “He’s on to us, but he doesn’t know what we’re going to do or when we’re going to do it, because we haven’t decided that for ourselves yet.
He’s not security or he’d have had us arrested.
That means he belongs to somebody else. Someone who wants the princess kept alive, but isn’t security.
So why not just go to the guard captain and tell him who we are and have us locked up?
” She looked at me, inviting input. I kept my mouth shut.
“Because he’s in the game too, presumably, and he’s up to something and doesn’t want to break cover.
” She scowled. “This is useless. You should’ve guzzled him while you had the chance. ”
“In the cloister,” I said. “With a thousand delegates a few yards away.”