Perhaps she'll allow me some say in how we make our bed room look. I could offer to craft her a shower, and a proper toilet, make the light white. The idea of spending the next two hundred years sleeping in anything as fluffy as she'd created before was unnerving.
They spent the afternoon with the tenth floor's housekeeper discussing further changes. Several Master carpenters were summoned to prepare drawings of the furniture Kristabel wanted to commission. Edeard was relieved when she toned down the drapes and fittings for their bedroom, and finally found the courage to volunteer his own alterations. The craftsmen tried not to be too obvious listening when he explained how the shower could go anywhere, and be any size. In fact altering the whole layout of the tenth floor would be a simple matter for him if she was just prepared to wait while the walls adjusted themselves. Kristabel sent everyone away when he started explaining that.
'I'd never thought of altering things on that scale, she admitted. 'Nothing ever changes in Makkathran.
'It can now. He looked round the big lounge they were in. 'In fact, how about some more windows in this place? Let some light in?
'What about the main stairs? she asked excitedly. 'Can you change them? The ones in Kanseen's new mansion are actually usable.
'I thought you'd never ask.
Julan and Mirnatha were noticeably absent from supper on the tenth floor hortus that evening, making a big show of saying how much they wanted to eat with the ninth floor families.
'It'll never last, Kristabel said as they sipped some sparkling white wine under a big white gauze awning. Long candles had been lit among the pots of orchids and troughs full of huge evening glories. With the orange lights of the city starting to twinkle amid the twilight and lengthening shadows Edeard couldn't imagine a more romantic setting. Neither, it seemed, could a lot of Makkathran's citizens; they both had to cast a seclusion haze to ward off curious farsights.
'But we can make the most of it for a couple more days, he said. It was almost a plea.
'You have to go hack to Jeavons station tomorrow. You're its captain, after all. And Finitan will want to talk to you, and Macsen is going to have a dozen problems.
'I know. They've been very polite not calling us today.
'I did longtalk Kanseen earlier. She says the mansion's almost complete, as far as she can tell. She wants you to confirm it's finished growing so she can start ordering fittings and fabrics for it.
'Okay, he said reluctantly. 'I'll check tomorrow.
Her hand came down on top of his. 'We still have tonight.
'And every night.
'You know what I mean. Tomorrow our new lives really begin.
'I know.
'But that's hours yet.
When Edeard walked into the Jeavons station first thing the next morning, he found Dinlay had coped admirably during his absence. He was almost peeved at that, but you couldn't argue with paperwork, and Dinlay had been quite meticulous about recording everything. Glancing at the new charts hanging up in his office, Edeard saw that patrols had gone out on time, duty rosters were made up, monies allocated and spent, timetables established. Arrests had been made, but these days the constables tended to issue cautions to any miscreants they found. It was often enough. Only the most committed recidivists were hauled up in front of the judges now. Probationer training was also going well. Even Marcol was expected to pass his exams in time for graduation next month.
'Though it's touch and go, Dinlay admitted. 'There's a sweep if you want to put some money down.
'I don't think that would be proper, Edeard said. It wasn't quite the comment he expected from Dinlay. But he couldn't find fault in any other way. 'So what else has been happening?
'It's been quiet actually. In the city at least. We're still getting refugees arriving, which is causing a lot of talk about how the remaining empty buildings are being taken up. People were expecting their children to move into the available places.
'Do we know how much spare housing there is? I mean, is this going to be a problem?
'I expect the Guild of Clerks knows the true numbers.
'I'm sure they do, they seem to know everything else.
'And anyway, it's Finitan's problem, isn't it?
'Yes. You're right. Edeard sat behind the desk he'd inherited from Ronark. Like the office, it was dark and functional. To be honest, a little bit drab and depressing for his taste. He looked round at the high, slightly-curved walls with their small oval windows. No wonder it was so gloomy, the city fabric was a grungy brown with strange vertical vermilion streaks, as if someone had spilt colouring dye down them a long time ago.
Dinlay left to lead a squad on patrol. Edeard began reviewing the station logs. It was no good, the office just kept distracting him. He reached down to the city's thoughts, and made some suggestions for modification. Expanding the windows, changing the wall colours to a pleasant pale sky-blue; adapting the lighting rosettes to shine white. Much the same as he'd done to the tenth floor of the Culverit mansion this morning. Here the changes would be finished within a week, back home it would take longer. Kristabel was still toying with the idea of changing the entire layout.
Even after he'd kicked off the office changes, the logs didn't interest him. He let his farsight reach out to the Orchard Palace.
'I wondered how long it would take you, Finitan said.
The oval sanctum hadn't changed. Edeard had expected Finitan to stamp his mark immediately, but the week after the election Finitan had remarked that he had more important things to worry about than the furniture. So the huge desk was still there in the middle, its dark veneer glossed to a mirror shine. The high velvet padded chair behind it was Owain's relic, to. But Edeard did recognize the silver cups that the ge-chimps poured his tea into. And Owain hadn't used genistars in here.
Finitan had brought the genistar egg cradle from his office in the Blue Tower. But it sat on his desk empty.
Topar took a seat next to Edeard, refusing a cup of tea.
'Well, Finitan started. 'We managed to survive an entire twenty days without you.
'Yes, sir, Edeard said.
'The city isn't really a problem any more. People seem to have accepted my term without too much resistance.
'They certainly have. Kristabel is complaining about how long the furniture she commissioned will take to build. The craftsmen are run off their feet right now. It's the same all across Makkathran. People are spending their money again. They have confidence in you, sir.
'My apologies to your wife. Finitan put his cup down, and gave Edeard an uncomfortable stare. 'Unfortunately, the city's current bout of good fortune isn't being repeated beyond the Iguru Plain.
Edeard gave a short nod. 'I know.
Topar cast out a strong seclusion haze. 'I've been sending scouts out into the provinces, he said. 'Good men: ex-constables, sheriffs, even a few reserve officers from the militia. People who know how to look after themselves, people I can rely on.
'We wanted to build up a picture of these damn raids, Finitan said. 'See if there was a pattern behind them, a purpose.
'That's where it gets strange, Topar said. 'If they're trying to soften us up for an invasion, they're going about it in a very odd way. There have been no bandit raids at all in the Rulan province since midsummer; in fact the west seems clear of all disturbances. They've moved steadily east through the three largest mountain ranges, causing a lot of damage, and setting light to a wildfire of fear and rumour. In fact, that's our worse enemy right now. Any dispute that results in violence is attributed to bandit raids, from landowners fighting with poachers to a tavern brawl, so bad is their reputation. It's hard to determine what's real and what isn't. The provincial governors aren't reliable at the best of times, now any trifling squabble is seen as an excuse to petition Makkathran for militia support.