Pirie Tamm clenched his teeth. “If only I had my strength, how gladly I would take the load from your shoulders!””
“You are already helping enormously,” said Wayness. “I could not function without you.”
“It is nice of you to say so."
By a variety of modes Wayness traveled from Fair Winds into the deep Moholc: by omnibus to Shillaway, by subterranean slideway to Anthelm and by feedertube to Passau, thence by airbus to Draczeny and by rickety omnibus into the far Moholc, under the loom of the Carnat Mountains.
Late in the afternoon, with the wind blowing in gusts, Wayness arrived at the village Tzem, beside the River Sogor, with steep forested hills close to either side. Clouds raced across the sky; Wayness' skirt fluttered as she stepped down from the bus. She moved away a few steps, then glanced back, to verify that no one had followed her, nor was there any other vehicle approaching from the direction they had come.
The bus had halted in front of the village inn: The Iron Pig, if the sign swinging above the doorway to be credited. The main street followed the course of the river, which was spanned by a stone bridge of three arches directly in front of the inn. At the center of the bridge, three old men wearing baggy blue pantaloons and high-cocked hunter's hats stood fishing. To fortify themselves, they took occasional swallows from large green bottles which were kept in tackle boxes at their feet, meanwhile calling back and forth from one to the other, exchanging advice, cursing the perversity of all fish, the impudence of the wind, and whatever else came to mind.
Wayness secured lodging at The Iron Pig, then went out explore the village. Along the main street she discovered a bakery a green-grocer's market, a tool shop which also sold sausages, hair-dresser/insurance agent, a wine shop, a post office and a number of other enterprises of less note. Wayness stepped into a stationer’s shop, which was little more than a booth. The proprietress, a jovial woman of middle age, leaned on her counter, gossiping with a pair of cronies who sat on a bench opposite. Here was a sure font of information, thought Wayness. She bought a journal and stood pretending to read but with an ear tuned to the conversation, which presently she was allowed to join. She described herself as a student investigating antiquities of the region. The proprietress told her “You've come to the right place; there are three of us here, each more antique than the others."
Wayness accepted a cup of tea and was introduced to the company. The proprietress was Madame Katrin; her friends were Madame Esme and Madame Stasia.
After a few moments Wayness mentioned Mirky Porod, and, as she had anticipated, tapped an instant freshet of information.
Madame Katrin gave an exclamation of regret. “It is not now as it was in the old days! Then Mirky Porod commanded our attention, that I'll tell you, what with banquets and balls, and all manner of goings-on! Now it is as dull as ditchwater."
“That was when Count Raul was alive," Madame Esme told Wayness.
“True He was a man of importance, and there was never any lack of famous folk at Mirky Porod! And not always on their best behavior, that is, if all the stories one heard could be believed.”
“Ha ha!" declared Madame Stasia. “I believe them well enough, human nature being what it is!"
“And the famous folk, along with their rank and their wealth, always seem to have more of this “human nature' than anyone else," observed Madame Katrin.
"Just so,” said Madame Esme sagely. “And if it were not so rich and juicy, there would be no scandal"
Wayness asked: "What of the Countess Ottilie? How did she deal with the scandals?”
“My dear!” exclaimed Madame Stasia. “It was she who created them!”
“The Countess and her dogs!” sniffed Madame Katrin.
“Between them they drove poor Count Raul to his death!”
“How so?” asked Wayness.
“Of course nothing is certain, but it is said that the Count, in one last futile effort, forbade Countess Ottilie to bring her beasts into the dining room. Soon after, he committed suicide by jumping from a window in the North Tower. Countess Ottilie said that he had been driven by remorse for his cruelty to her and her little friends.”
The three ladles chuckled. Madame Katrin said: “And now all is quiet at Mirky Porod. Each Saturday afternoon the Countess entertains her friends. They play at piquet for small stakes, and if the Countess loses more than a few pence, she flies into a rage.”
Wayness asked: “If I were to call on the Countess, would she receive me?"
Madame Stasia Said: “As to that, much depends on her mood.”
“For example,” said Madame Esme, “do not go on a Sunday after she has lost a sol or two at her game.”
“Also, and most important!” said Madame Katrin. “Do not go out accompanied by a dog! Last year her grandnephew Baron Parter went to call on her, along with his mastiff. As soon as the dogs saw each other it was instant warfare, with yowling and snapping and yelping such as was never heard before! Some of the Countess’ dearest little friends were discomfited, and young Baron Parter was sent away faster than he had come, along with his mastiff.”
“Those are two good hints,” said Wayness. “What else?"
Madame Esme said: “There is no harm in telling the truth! The Countess is a dragon, and not sympathetic."
Madame Katrin flung her arms into the air. “And stingy? Ah, there has never been the like! She buys my journals, but only after they are a month old, when I sell them at half-price. For this reason, she is always a month behind in her life.”
“It is ridiculous” said Madame Stasia. “If the world came to an end, Countess Ottilie would not know until a month had passed."
“Time to close up shop,” said Madame Katrin. “Now I must see about a bite of supper for Leppold. He has been fishing all day and caught not so much as a sparrow. I’ll open a packet of mackerel, which will give him something to think about.”
Wayness left her new friends and returned to the inn. There was no telephone in her room and she was obliged to use a booth in the corner of the lounge. She called Fair Winds; Pirie Tamm's image appeared on the screen.
Wayness told of her discoveries to date. “Countess Ottilie seems even more of a termagant than I had expected, and I doubt if she will be helpful."
“Let me think this over,” said Pirie Tamm. “I will call you back shortly.”
“Very well. Still, I wish — " Wayness looked over her shoulder as someone came into the lounge. She checked her speech and at Fair Winds her face left the screen. Pirie Tamm raised his voice. “Wayness? Are you there?" Wayness' face returned to the screen. “I'm here. For a moment I was — “ She hesitated.
"You were what?" Pirie Tamm demanded sharply.
"Nervous. Wayness looked over her shoulder once again. “I think that when I left Fair Winds I was followed — at least for a time."
"Explain, if you please."
“There isn’t much to explain, maybe nothing. When I left Fair Winds a vehicle followed my cab to Tierens, and I glimpsed a face with a black mustache. At Shillaway I doubled back and saw him distinctly: a stocky little man, rather meek-looking, with a black mustache. Afterwards, I did not see him again.”
"Ha!” said Pirie Tamm in a dispirited voice. “I can only advise vigilance.”
“That is the same advice I have been giving myself," said Wayness. “After Shillaway no one seemed to be following me but I was not at all happy. I remember reading of tags and spy-cells and other such intricate devices, and I began to wonder. At Draczeny I took time to examine my cloak, and for a fact I found something suspicious: a little black shell half the size of a ladybug. I took it into the station restaurant and when I hung up my cloak, I tucked the shell under the collar of a tourists long coat. I took the omnibus to Tzem and the tourist flew off to Zagreb or some such place."