Midnight Tides

‘Anyway, do you want me in your debt or not?’



Shurq Elalle pushed past Bugg. ‘I don’t like being ignored. You’re all ignoring me as if I was-’



‘Dead?’ Delisp asked.



‘I just wanted to point out my reason for vacating this house, which is that I, too, owe Tehol Beddict. I may be dead, but I am not without honour. In any case, Delisp, I believe you owe me a rather substantial payment right now. Sixty per cent, I seem to recall-’



‘What do you need all that money for?’ the Matron demanded. ‘How many variations of sex-assassin attire exist out there? How many bundles of raw spices do you need to keep fresh? No, wait, I don’t want to know the answer. Sixty per cent. Fine, but it’ll take me a day or two – I don’t keep that kind of coin around here. Where should I have it delivered?’



‘Tehol Beddict’s residence will suffice.’



‘Hold on,’ Tehol objected. ‘I can’t secure-’



‘I intend,’ Shurq cut in, ‘to spend it quickly.’



‘Oh. All right, but I’m not happy. Too many comings and goings there. Suspicions will be insatiably aroused-’



‘Stop staring at the railing, master.’



‘Errant’s dreams! Let’s get out of here.’



The storm had passed. Rainwater still flowed down the streets, but people were venturing out once more. It was late afternoon. Shurq Elalle halted at the foot of the Temple’s steps. ‘I will rejoin you tonight, on your roof, Tehol Beddict. Midnight.’



‘What about Ublala Pung?’



‘I admit to having second thoughts.’



‘Shurq Elalle. Ublala Pung survived a Drowning. He walked across the bottom of the canal. You two have a lot in common, if you think about it.’



‘He’s also massively endowed,’ Bugg added.



Tehol made a face at him. ‘You are being crude-’



‘Bring him to the roof tonight,’ Shurq said.



‘This is a conspiracy to make me miserable, isn’t it? Both of you, leave me. I’m going for a walk. Bugg, when you get back home, give it a tidy. No doubt Shand will be storming in before too long. Tell her I’ll drop by tomorrow on some important business-’



‘What important business?’



‘I don’t know. I’ll invent something. You have other things to worry about – how’s the foundation work coming along, anyway?’



‘It’s piling up.’



‘Then sort it out.’



‘You misunderstand, master. We’re on schedule.’



‘I didn’t misunderstand. I was being obdurate. Now, I’m off to find a more reasonable conversation, somewhere.’ He swung round for a final word with Shurq, but she was gone. ‘Damned thief. Go on, Bugg. Wait, what’s for supper?’



‘Banana leaves.’



‘Not fishy ones, I trust.’



‘Of course not, master.’



‘Then what?’



‘The material they were wrapped around was unidentifiable, which, if you think about it, is probably a good thing.’



‘How do we live on this stuff?’



‘A good question, master. It is indeed baffling.’



Tehol studied his servant for a long moment, then he gestured the man away.



Bugg turned right, so Tehol went left. The air was warming, yet still fresh after the rain. Wet dogs nosed the rubbish in the settling puddles. Cats chased the cockroaches that had swarmed up from the drains. A beggar had found a sliver of soap and stood naked beneath a stream of water coming from a cracked eaves trough, working up a murky lather while he sang a lament that had been popular a hundred years ago. Residents had taken advantage of the unexpected downpour, emptying chamber pots from their windows rather than carrying them a few dozen paces to the nearest communal dump-hole. As a result, some of the pools held floating things and the streams in the gutters carried small flyblown islands that collected here and there in buzzing rafts that bled yellowy brown slime.



It was a fine evening in the city of Letheras, Tehol reflected, testing the air a moment before taking a deep breath and releasing it in a contented sigh. He went on down the street until he reached Quillas Canal, then walked along it towards the river. To his right rose a forest of masts from fisherboats moored to wait out the storm. Tarps were being pulled aside, water splashing as the crews bailed feverishly so they could make for open water before the day’s light failed. Near one jetty a half-dozen city guardsmen were fishing a corpse from the murky water, a crowd of onlookers shouting advice as the squad struggled with hook-poles. Above them flapped seagulls.