Fall; or, Dodge in Hell - Neal Stephenson Page 0,340

prefer the accent of Shatterberg, or of Calla? It seems you are capable of both.”

Prim was ashamed but not surprised that the Autochthon had seen through her. The hints had been many. Her disguise had never been meant to fool anyone save a lowly gatekeeper.

“We shall have ample time to plumb her depths in the months and years to come,” said Sooth. “I believe she understands today the nature of the Land in a manner that was hid from her, quite deliberately, by those who sheltered her until now.”

Prim’s alarm about months and years to come had scarcely begun when it was shoved out of the way by that very odd and wrong statement about her having been somehow misled by her own kinfolk.

“Very well,” said Elshield, “We may begin immediately, on the ride down to Secondel.”

“You are going down to the city now,” said Sooth, half statement and half question.

“I have an important meeting—with a barbarian king!” said Delegate Elshield. “One of my more exotic duties.”

“Splendid,” said Sooth, “let us ride then.”

Elshield rose to his full height, which was impressive, as if he had been made to be a lord. Which, come to think of it, he probably had. He descended, arm in arm with Sooth, and made a gesture toward Prim that said, After you, my dear. But soon enough the two Autochthons had overtaken her with long sure strides and got her between them. They went out by a different way, passing through a sort of foyer where a Beedle helped Elshield out of his robe and into a long riding cloak made of heavier stuff, all black. First though he slung a wide swath of leather over one of Elshield’s shoulders. It fell diagonally across his body to his left hip, where a scabbard hung from it, and into the scabbard went a sword of burnished steel that Elshield took down from a rack.

From there they went out of doors and directly made their way back to the place near the gate where Prim and Sooth had left their mounts. Sooth got up into the saddle and Prim did likewise, leaving Elshield afoot. Given the style in which Elshield lived generally, she assumed that a Beedle would come scurrying up at any moment holding the reins of a mount even larger and more magnificent than the one that she was borrowing. But no such thing happened. The two Autochthons exchanged a look and Prim assumed that private thoughts were passing between them. Then Elshield stepped over to the flank of Prim’s mount and in one smooth graceful movement vaulted up onto its back right behind her. The contours of the saddle were such as to press them together quite firmly. She recoiled from the unwanted closeness but he had already reached his arms around her. His right hand closed over hers, which was holding the reins. “There will be no need of those,” he said, so close to her ear that she could feel his breath. “Only Beedles use them. We have more refined ways of controlling the animal.”

Right on cue, the mount bolted across the grass. Elshield snaked his left arm around Prim’s waist and drew her back against him. “The ride will be faster than you are accustomed to, but I shall see to it you do not fall,” he explained.

Hearing hoofbeats to the right, Prim turned her head to see Sooth galloping past them. Within moments they had crossed the belt of grass and plunged into the forest that cloaked the mountainside. The pace felt wild to Prim, but the mount and the Autochthon both knew the way and never put a hoof wrong. Prim’s fear lessened over the course of the first couple of switchbacks, to the point where she could tear her gaze away from the road ahead and hazard a look down over the First Shiver and the waterfront of Secondel far below.

Two of the Autochthons’ military ships—galleys with many oars—were venturing out across the channel, going perpendicular to the general flow of shipping. It looked as though they might be planning a mid-Shiver rendezvous with a vessel that was approaching from the coast of Thunkmarch. Perhaps that one was carrying the barbarian king that Elshield was going down to meet? It was not a particularly kingly looking vessel; but terms like “king” were rarely used out among the Bits.

Tell me more, Elshield wanted. He had not uttered a word. But she knew it was what he desired. She had