I could not do better, and in all honesty most of my notions were worse. "We visited the hill of ruined landers" was the best of mine, perhaps; but it did not satisfy me.
Far from it.
To elicit their opinions I had to explain what I was doing and display my manuscript to date-six hundred sheets and more, with both sides of every sheet covered with the writing as fine as Oreb's quills and I can make it. "Bird help!" he informed Hide proudly. "Help Silk!" And I explained that he presents me with any large feathers he happens to molt from his wings and tail.
"I had a perch for him in my bedroom in Gaon; and because he left me for close to a year, I got into the habit of using his feathers, which I had picked up off the floor. I missed him, you see, and didn't want the women who came in to sweep and dust and so forth to throw them away. I kept them in my pen case, since no one would be so stupid as to throw out the feathers in a pen case even if it were left open."
Hide said, "Sure."
"After that, it seemed reasonable to point them with my little knife as well, which I did while puzzling over one of the matters of law I had to judge. After that..." Too late, I fell silent.
"Are you embarrassed for my sake?" Jahlee asked. "It's true I don't know how to read and write, but I'm not sensitive about it. If you want to mortify me, quiz me about cooking."
"It's just that what I had intended to say next would have sounded very arrogant. Hide's mother and I wrote an account of Patera Silk's life up to the time we parted from him. And it seemed to me that by writing an account of my search for him-which is what I've been doing here, or at any rate what I like to tell myself I'm doing-I would be continuing it. So I began with the letter from Pajarocu, and talked about meeting with some of the leading people from our town, and the need for new strains of corn and so on. I brought a little seed from the Whorl, by the way, and picked up more in Gaon.
"What we really need, Hide, is not a way of returning to the Whorl, but more and better ways of exchanging goods and information among ourselves. If all of the towns here on Blue would share the plants and animals they brought in their landers, much of the pillaging of three hundred years might be undone."
Hide asked, "Is that how long people up in the Long Sun Whorl were going down into those tunnels Mother used to talk about? How do you know?"
"I don't. I only know that it has been about three hundred years since the Whorl left the Short Sun Whorl. A bit more than three hundred and fifty, really-three hundred and fifty-five, or some such figure. I was assuming rather carelessly that the pillaging had begun as soon as the voyage, which isn't actually very likely."
Hide scratched his ear. "If it's been three hundred years, or about that..."
"Yes?"
"I was thinking about the Duko's old house. Where I shot at the man that stabbed him?"
"The omophagist," Jahlee suggested. "That's what that first man we met beside the river called him."
He had seemed an ordinary-enough man, though we thought him fantastically dressed. He saw that our captive's hands were bound and his feet hobbled, and asked whether we were bringing him to the peltasts. Since I had no idea who those might be, I asked what they would do to him.
"Cut his throat for him and throw him in the river." The stranger laughed, seeing that our prisoner had understood him.
I suggested that he be arrested and tried for stabbing our companion.
"He's an omophagist, sieur. What would be the use of all that? You may as well kill him yourselves and rid the city of him. Where are you from, anyway?"
Terzo, Morello, and Sfido named Soldo; Mora and I, Blanko; and Hide, New Viron.
"I never heard of any of them. Down south, are they?"
With a readiness of wit that surprised and delighted me, Hide said, "We don't think so."
The stranger was eyeing Jahlee. "If women like that one don't wear clothes wherever it is, I'd like to go."
She smiled at him and moistened her lips.
"These peltasts-" I spoke loudly to regain his attention. "Do they administer justice here, and enforce the laws?"
"They're soldiers, sieur. See, the autarch takes them out of the line when they've fought enough and are getting worn down with it. They come back to pick up new men and train them, and meantime, they keep the rest of us respectful, collecting taxes and tolls, and breaking up riots and the rest of it."
"I see. Where might we find some, and a physician?"
"Around here?" He shook his head. "You can't, sieur. There's been nobody much in this part of the city for, well, a good long while."
"How long?" I asked. We had begun to walk again; and he with us, watching Jahlee from the corner of his eye.
"I can't rightly say, sieur." He pointed up the river. "See that white house sticking out? Looks like it's in the water, or just about?"
I shook my head. Hide said, "I see it, Father. It must be three leagues at least."
"Four," Eco declared. "Four, if it's a span."
"My grandfather's," the stranger declared. "He lived there till he died, and that was..." He paused, reckoning. "Sixty-odd years ago. He was one of the last thereabouts, and when he went Grandmother moved in with us. Folks say the city loses a street every generation. I'm not saying that's right, but it's close. Five or six streets in a hundred years, depending. So how long right around here? I can't say exactly, but it's bound to be a long time."
"There are seven thousand steps in a league," Sfido muttered to me. "From what I've seen here, the streets are seventy or eighty double steps apart. Say a hundred to be safe. If Eco's correct in his estimate, four leagues, they've been falling down for about two thousand, five hundred years. If your son is, three-quarters of that should be one thousand, nine hundred, unless I've made an error."
Mora looked at Duko Rigoglio, then at me, and raised her eyebrows.
I nodded. "Old though these houses clearly are, I can't believe they're as old as that. No doubt the rate at which they're abandoned was much higher at one time; but if we accept Cuoio's estimate and the error is fifty percent, they're still a thousand years old, roughly."
Jahlee had taken the stranger's hand, and was walking beside him. "I've been thinking about a city we both know, Rajan."
I nodded.
"It's not exactly abandoned. The slaves fix the old buildings a little when we-when they're made to."
Oreb landed some distance off. "Long way! Go fast."
"He says we must hurry," I interpreted for the rest. "If we have to walk even two leagues before we have any chance of finding a physician, he's quite right."
* * *
Although I thought myself well enough to travel, I find I am very tired now, after a short day's ride. We have stopped for the night with a good deal of daylight left. Hide is taking advantage of it to build us-to build me, I should say, since it is clear it is my well being he has in mind-a little shelter of sticks and pine boughs. We are still in Blanko's territory, I feel sure.
While we ate I read him what I wrote before we left the abandoned farmhouse, for I hope to inspire him to read the entire account eventually, and to that end it cannot be harmful for him to know that he himself figures in it now and then. He was quite curious about the City of the Inhumi, and asked many questions, among them some I had great difficulty answering.
"How old is it?" It was the second time for that.
"As I say, I have no idea, though it must surely be very ancient. There are trees that we here would call large growing from the sides of many of the towers."
"A real big tree's a hundred years old. About that. If you cut it down you can count the rings."
I agreed.
"Say it was a hundred years before one took root-"
"Many hundreds. Those towers were built by the Neighbors, who built everything far better than we men build anything."
"You mean the Vanished People?"