The Malacia Tapestry Read online

  'One can't doubt the truth of that,' he said, giving me a suspicious glance. 'Lives are always at risk, and not only in the forests of Juracia.'

  'I hear that while I was recovering from my wounds, sir,' I continued, 'the story of my devil-jaw circulated about Malacia, making something of a popular hero of me. I am no warrior. What I did was only possible because your fair daughter Armida was facing death. If I may make bold to say so, sir, I hold myself to have been of some service to your illustrious family.'

  'That you certainly have, Master de Chirolo,' said Armida's mother, but she was hushed immediately by a gesture from her husband. As for Armida, sensitive creature that she was, the colour came and went in her cheek as she perceived what request I was about to make.

  'You have been of some… service,' said Hoytola, scratching his jaw in such a way that his face was much lengthened. The elongation made his words come slowly. 'Do not be under the misapprehension that one is ungrateful. Before the — ah, forest incident, there was that hydrogenous balloon. Although —'

  I had the impudence to interrupt him. 'And, sir, what about our play, Prince Mendicula? Otto Bengtsohn's mercurized miracle, in which your daughter and I appear to such effect. To be shown here tomorrow night, for the first time. Do not forget, sir, how hard I worked in that pet scheme of yours.'

  My voice faltered. I knew I had ventured on dangerous ground by the way both Hoytola and his wife stiffened and their friends began to move quietly elsewhere. I was made aware of two servitors behind the upright, brocaded chairs upon which the Hoytolas securely sat; they appeared to grow uglier at the mention of Bengtsohn and mercurization; while Hoytola himself, who always wore the aspect of a man with a bad smell under his nose, suddenly found difficulty in breathing.

  'One must inform you that that venture has been cancelled. The — ah, instrument has been broken up.'

  'Broken up…'

  'That was my phrase. A word further, sir, then you may go. That man to whom you made reference has returned to the northern city from whence he came. One need speak of him no more.'

  Through a restriction in my throat, I managed to say — I couldn't look at Armida — 'But our play, the slides! They were to have been shown here — we never saw them — we —'

  'Be silent, sir! One paid you. That's enough. You were hired, no more. As you were hired for the balloon. That person's slides are all smashed. No one will see them. He is a proven Progressive. My gallery will have nothing, nothing whatsoever, to do with the matter. Or with you, depend on it, if you utter one word further.'

  I was trembling. 'Sir, I cannot understand. We completed the play, absurd though it was. It was a novelty. My hopes — and Bengtsohn's hopes and yours also, I believed —'

  'Enough, I say! Keep silent, or trouble will befall. If the Hoytola family is indebted to you for saving our daughter's life, then one will see that you are paid in sequins. For the rest, stay away from us, young man, or you will regret it.'

  Armida's mother leaned forward and said, 'If you have formed any sentimental attachment for our —'

  Hoytola smote the arm of his chair. 'If you have formed any sentimental attachment whatsoever, forget it. Carry it back to your playhouse and bury it before someone buries you.' His lips were pale. He rose.

  'Your servant, sir,' I said, and withdrew. Were he but a devil-jaw, said I to myself, and I had my spring-load spear with me…

  What prompted the impulse to kill him was the stricken look on Armida's face as I turned away. Her knuckles were as white as her face as she clutched her chair.

  I took myself back to the cool bathroom and poured more water over my head. Through a miniature waterfall, I saw myself killing Andrus Hoytola. The vision was there in all its dreadful power, as clear as the sight of the magicians at their forest altar. I hated the man and all he stood for; I discovered that I always had, ever since he spoke to me in his stables. As I plunged my face into the water, I could experience the healthful shock at my wrist as the sword grated between his ribs and blood gouted over his impeccable clothes. His teeth showed like a bolting mule's as he shed his precious dignity and pitched to the floor at my feet.

  When my murderous impulse was over, and I felt less like vomiting, I began to worry about Armida. I dried my face and took myself into one of the rooms where young couples, friends of Smarana's, were dancing. Servants brought in fruity drinks. Settling behind a bank of flowers, I tried to compose myself.

  Guy entered the room with a girl and saw me. He excused himself to her and came over.

  'Perry, old partner, you're looking seedy. Didn't you notice that girl? Have you had a quarrel with Armida?'

  'Guy, no banter, please.' I made him sit down by me. 'I've been talking to Hoytola. The Mendicula play is broken up. All the slides have been smashed. He broke all those images of Armida. All our art destroyed.'

  'Is this the work of critics?'

  'Hoytola simply said that Otto Bengtsohn has left Malacia.'

  'Why should he do that?'

  I shook my head. 'How I loathe that man… Otto and Flora must have had good reason to leave — the old reason. The Supreme Council's edict against change. If the Council foresaw dangerous applications of the principle of mercurization, as Otto himself did, they would put pressure to bear on Hoytola. They allowed him his balloon in an emergency. The more reason not to relax the edict a second time. Mercurization was too much a new thing, and they ruled against it. Hoytola, to save his own skin, has closed down the whole venture. Otto, a sworn Progressive, has fled.'

  'What's happened to the zahnoscope?'

  'It's been smashed up, too. Hoytola must have discovered that Otto was a Progressive. I'll wager he turned the old fellow out to mend his own standing with the Council…'

  De Lambant shook his head. 'All very devious, if true. Perian, beneath the civilized if venereal veneer of your life flows a dark and dangerous stream. Stay away from wrong-headed people like Otto, if you value safety.'

  A word of friendly advice comforted me. I put an arm about his shoulders. 'I'm beginning to think that the Ottos of this world understand it well.'

  Even as Guy had said, there was a dangerous stream in me. No sooner did my anxieties about him cease than I became anxious about Otto. What had really happened? After the nuptial ceremonies I would seek out Bonihatch and find the truth.

  The face of Bonihatch appeared before me, custardy whiskers and all. I had done him no good turn by pursuing Letitia when he was in love with her; but he was only a cocky apprentice, and I would make my peace with him.

  The main question was Armida. She had not followed me, perhaps because she could not escape her father. He was injuring her more than me. She was simply a pawn in his cold, complicated game.

  Come, I had read my fairy stories and believed them. When the personable but poor young man saved the life of the king's beautiful daughter, she was given him in marriage, and everyone in the kingdom rejoiced. Why was the fable not fulfilled, particularly when I was no pauper and Hoytola merely a trumped-up merchant — not half so worthy a man as my own father?

  Rising after Guy had left me, I saw that Caylus, his crutches banished, was dancing with a vivacious, dark-complexioned girl. No desire rose in me to be convivial. A servant came over and offered me a glass of wine. Better to be drunk than sober. In keeping with the festive tone of the occasion, the menials wore masks, some horrific, some comic, some pretty. I took my glass from a multi-hued orchid.

  Soon I was back into the swim of things, at least as far as appearances went. La Singla and Pozzi called me. He was full of wrath because the Duke of Ragusa was not coming and so would not, after all, see our performance.

  'The old fool sends word that he has heard Malacia is ripe for revolution! Malacia! No doubt he also believes that the moon is a giant cow-pat!' said Pozzi. 'The crosses we artists have to bear, de Chirolo!'

  When evening fell, the festivities were at their height. I was impersonating my old light-hearted self; there was always a
nother day, when a way through present troubles would be found.

  A servant insisted on bringing me more wine, though my glass was half-full. I tried to push him away but he had me trapped behind a column in the atrium. His face was an elaborate flower, his eyes glittering at its centre.

  'I'm not a chrysanthemum, de Chirolo, as you may drunkenly imagine,' this servant said. 'Perhaps you recognize my voice.'

  'Be off before I report you.'

  'Don't think yourself so secure.' We were screened from the dancers. He lifted the flower-mask momentarily, so that I saw the face of Bonihatch.

  'What are you doing? Prince Mendicula was a more likely role than this floral act.'

  'You're surprised. We workers have to secure what jobs we can. As for this decadent mob — all will perish when the Progressives win their struggle.'

  'Bonihatch, never mind that. Believe me, I am glad to see you. There have been differences between us —'

  'I owe you a beating up, if truth be told, de Chirolo, but I am capable of setting party before personalities. Founder only knows why, but you're something of a popular hero and we need you. I was deputed to approach you. There's a meeting soon which we want you to attend.'

  'Listen. Andrus Hoytola is here —'

  'The Council have arrested Otto. He may be dead by now. By great luck, his wife was away with a relation when they came, and she warned me. She's in hiding, as I am.' We had moved to a dark corner. His eyes moved constantly behind the flower-mask.

  'Let's go outside and talk. I was told that Otto had left for Tolkhorm.'

  'I've no time. Don't trust the Hoytolas. Can't you understand that? The Council came for Otto in the middle of the night. They smashed all the equipment, the slides, the zahnoscope, everything… Hoytola betrayed him. Who knows whether Otto's dead or being tortured to death in their filthy dungeons. You have courage at least. Think which side you're on.'

  'When — I'm all confused —'

  'Come to the meeting. We'll clear your head. Late tomorrow night, after your play. Get out of those foppish clothes before you come. Someone will contact you tomorrow and tell you where the meeting is to be.'

  'You're asking me to throw up everything I'm striving for, Bonihatch, I —'

  His eyes gleamed through the petals. 'You aren't striving for anything worth having. Till tomorrow.'

  He was gone.

  An alliance with Bonihatch and the dingy apprentices… The mere thought made me wish I had taken the wine he offered. But there was a dedication about him which I found impressive.

  'Ha, you're positively mooching, my heroic friend!' cried a familiar voice as I took a turn along the colonnade. An arm hooked itself through mine, and there was the laughing face of Caylus and the bold, sharp countenance of his doxy. Caylus liked them highly coloured.

  'De Chirolo — the hero of the hour, the dragon-slayer, and looking as if life was not fit for the living. This is the beautiful Teressa Orini from Vamonal, who has been longing to talk to you.'

  Teressa placed herself seductively before me and offered a ringed finger for me to hold.

  'Caylus has told me so much about you —'

  ' — Tactless fool that I am, ruining my own chances!'

  'And he tells me that you are as valiant in bed as in the field.' Flashing teeth.

  ' — This girl is absolutely wanton, de Chirolo, wanton! You'd enter the priesthood if you heard some of the libidinous secrets she has whispered to me.'

  She clapped her lean hands. She moved confidentially closer.

  'He exaggerates. In an hour he has corrupted me, dear de Chirolo, and I think you should join us so that I'm in some measure protected.'

  They were laughing. The talk ran fast, teasingly, while they cast naughty looks at each other. It was impossible not to catch a little warmth from them.

  'Perian will afford no young lady protection, Teressa! He's the complete lecher, absolutely complete. Let me tell you what he did…' He cupped his lips and whispered breathy words into the dark tresses by her ear. Her eyes danced, she burst into laughter and seized my arm.

  'How shall I survive the night between two such notorious rakes?'

  'De Chirolo and I will give you pertinent details immediately,' Caylus said, winking at me. 'Come, let's go somewhere where we can sit, and eat, and imbibe, and this heroic friend of mine will give us the full story of how he slayed the dragon, the pizzle of which he keeps beneath his pillow for luck and potency.'

  'I can't join you just now,' I said. But I went along with them all the same, putting my discomforts aside.

  Dear Caylus! You were a good good-time friend. I wanted to please you — and what pleasure to please Teressa Orini as well. But a reptilian visage was watching me across a smouldering forest altar and saying, 'Your errors repeat and repeat themselves like an endless fiction…' It dried the juices of my heart. The canker of knowledge was in me: I had to discover what was happening to Armida and Otto — how strange to link such disparate names! — whatever it cost me.

  I slipped away from my high-stepping friends. At that moment, the sour, work-a-day Bonihatch would have provided company more to my taste.

  The chandeliers were lit and tall candles brought to darken what daylight was still reflected in the pool.

  Menials with masks of boars came forth, bringing flaming braziers as music sounded, against the chill in the autumn air. For many this would be an alfresco night. A ruddy glare lit the faces of those who were lovers and those who would be lovers by the morrow. I turned away, yet I had another good friend among the wedding guests — Portinari, whose father had helped with provisions for the feast. He called to me from a marbled arch and came to my side, patting my back.

  'Perian, my dear old hero! Straight from the cemetery with a grave face. You are in some kind of trouble?'

  'No, no, I'm fine, Gustavus — a little too much wine, perhaps.'

  'Something worse than wine, I fancy. No, don't tell me, let me say only — my dear Perian, perhaps we don't know each other intimately —'

  I tried to push past him. 'True enough. A universal complaint. But I'm in no mood for that conversation, forgive me.'

  'Before you go, Perian… This may seem presumptuous, but I happen to know that Kemperer and La Singla are busy conferring with Andrus Hoytola and his wife concerning tomorrow's business. Armida is alone for the once, awaiting an assignation, having sent off Yolaria. If you will come with me — I do realize this is none of my affair, except inasmuch as friends are concerned — but if you will come, I'll lead you to her this instant.'

  I slapped his shoulder. 'Gustavus, you are kind. I'm not myself. And I do need to speak with Armida.'

  We made through the crowded rooms and he led me upstairs, still apologizing. The upper floor extended over only part of the villa, and served in the main as a pretext for a balcony which ran round the four sides of the peristyle, overlooking that pleasure spot.

  'I'm sorry to interfere, my friend,' Portinari kept saying.

  He showed me to a curtained doorway and left me. I entered at once.

  'Guy?' asked a voice. It was Armida. The room contained a sofa, a writing table, two chairs and little else. It overlooked the peristyle. Armida stood in the shadows, where she could hardly be seen. The only illumination was a ruddy light reflected from the floor below.

  'It is not Guy. It is I, Perian, your betrothed,' said I, walking over to where she stood.

  'Oh, Perian, I'm glad to speak to you! That terrible boring scene this afternoon —'

  'It was humiliating — for you and me. But you didn't seek me out afterwards.'

  'Father was harsh with you, but he thought you presumed. He was trying to be fair in his way.'

  'Did you think me presumptuous?'

  'Perian, the world you move in is so extraordinary. There are different codes one has to live by.' She had risen and was standing stiffly away from me.

  'I've swallowed all your rebukes and hesitations. You let your father threaten me. And I
can stand here and all my senses tell me that you do not want me, don't want to touch or speak to me.'

  'Certain rules of society have to be observed. We'll speak some other time. Please don't vex me.'

  'What do you mean by that? Armida, my darling girl — very well, I won't touch you, but look at me and tell me that you recall we are still betrothed.'

  She forced a laugh. 'That was a little secret fun between us, which I do believe you were prepared to reveal to my father.'

  'What kind of language do you use to me? Do you imagine I don't understand what you're saying? Armida, how pitifully things have changed between us!'

  'No, nothing has changed, nor am I the one who is for change. I am the same, it's you who have become different.'

  'I am anxious, no more than that, and you make me anxious. If I have no reason for anxiety, then pray tell me so and all shall be well again, and I yours again, body and heart. Tell me your father doesn't hate me.'

  'Why are you being so dramatic? You're always acting, always suffering. I confess I prefer more superficial people. What's the matter with you? Is this something to do with Guy?'

  'Guy? I'm talking about your father. Why bring Guy's name up? What's he to you?'

  She was still standing rigidly, almost as if leaning away from me. 'I don't intend to give Guy up, if that's what you are hinting.'

  'I hint nothing. Though I freely allow you the right to end friendships of mine of which you disapprove — that you'll concede.'

  'I'm enjoying it too much to think of giving it up.'

  My throat went dry. It choked me; all my fears rushed back to assail me. I heard my voice, remote and dusty, say, 'Are you telling me that you and Guy are making love together?'

  She hesitated only for a moment.

  'You know we are, you fool! What else do you think we have been doing together? Talking about botany?'

  All I could think to say was, 'But he's my friend — he calls himself my best friend… You tell me this dreadful news without apology? You couldn't do this, either of you…' The words drained away into the desert sands and my blood drained with them.