Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(98)

"Thank you," said the engineer, although he wondered why he should be thanking her because the early birds had eaten everything.

The fruit had not made its way up to the table by the time Ryba sat down heavily in the chair with her back to the cold hearth.

"You seem tired, Marshal," offered Gerlich.

Narliat smiled. From the middle of the second table, both Hryessa and Murkassa looked at Ryba and then at Gerlich. Ayrlyn frowned.

"I am tired," Ryba admitted. "I'm especially tired of your superficial cheerfulness, and I'm almost tempted to send you out hunting at this very moment. So don't push it."

Nylan held in a grin.

"I beg your pardon," Gerlich responded.

"No, you don't. You just say you do," said Ryba politely. "Snakes have more integrity than you do, Gerlich. So do the demons."

Beside Istril, at the far end of the second table, Relyn paled.

"You could even say, behind my back, that I'm in a bitchy mood. That's a mildly polite way of putting it." Ryba smiled. "So the next time you attempt to patronize me, you might have to eat steel or ice. You can take your pick."

Kyseen hovered behind Nylan, holding the small bowl of dried fruit, waiting until Ryba turned to the cook and nodded. Kyseen set the bowl between Ryba and Nylan.

"Thank you, Kyseen," said the marshal.

"Thank you," echoed Nylan.

Nylan glanced at Gerlich and caught the under - the - breath "Thank you, thank you-it makes me puke . . ." With a forced smile, Nylan looked at the hunter and said, "Why, Gerlich, I thought you had better digestion than that. By the way, the reason I'm usually late is that I have better things to do than to sneak around and complain about how things are run around here, or make snide remarks under my breath. Or go out and hide and sulk in the snow while pretending to hunt."

Narliat turned pale; Gerlich opened his mouth, and then shut it.

"You know, Gerlich," added Ryba. "You always did underestimate the engineer. In the end, it's likely to prove fatal."

"Might I be excused?" Gerlich asked quietly.

"Of course." Ryba smiled.

Gerlich stood and bowed, but not too deeply.

"Your timing was excellent, Nylan. That should stop his plotting for a time," said Ryba. "A day or two, perhaps."

"Are you going to kill him?" asked Ayrlyn.

"No," said Ryba. "There's been enough death, and that sort of thing wouldn't play well with the guards. Not yet." Her face held a bitter smile. Then she took a sip of tea. "This is almost as bad as liquid manure. Almost, but not quite."

Nylan took several of the apple slices, but left most of them for Ryba. She needed them, and so far, he didn't. He did refill his mug from the steaming pot that Kadran set on the table. The bark-and-root tea tasted better hot, or perhaps he couldn't taste it so well when it was hot.

He munched another piece of bread.

Ayrlyn rose and nodded to the marshal, then to Nylan. "We'll be doing a lot of woodwork for the next few days, ser, and I need to see to the space, and the glue."

Ryba nodded, as did Nylan, since he didn't have much choice with a mouth full of dry bread.

"We have problems with the water, I understand," Ryba said after Ayrlyn had departed.

"I'd guess the frost line is lower than I'd calculated, but I'll have to check now that I've eaten and have some strength."

"You made such a to-do about the water..."

"I know. I know. It's all my fault." With a groan, Nylan rose and headed down to the lower level and the cistern, Kyseen following closely.

All the guards in the kitchen area watched as he neared the cistern. He opened the cover and peered inside. His eyes saw almost nothing, but his senses could feel that the inlet pipe was mostly filled with ice. The water level had dropped to the half-full point, a good two cubits below the stone inlet conduit. A few drops glistened on the ice-coated inlet spout.

Nylan extended his senses, attempting to hold the feeling similar to the neuronet. So far as his senses could follow the water back up the conduit, he could sense only ice. Finally, he stepped away from the tower's cold south wall, leaving the cover open and turning to Kyseen. "It's frozen. Keeping this open might help, but make sure everyone stays away from it."

"Ser?" asked Kyseen.

"The air here is warmer. It might help thaw the ice inside. The piping wasn't deep enough. I'm pretty sure it's frozen outside as well."

"What do we do? You can't fix it now, can you?" Kyseen made a vague gesture up the steps toward the heavy lower outer door, which continued to vibrate, despite the southern exposure and the heavy windbreaks beyond.

Beyond the stone walls, the wind howled.

"We may not be able to fix it until spring, and that's a long time," answered Nylan. "For now, take the extra caldrons and fill them with snow. Put them by the furnace. When they melt, pour the water into the cistern and start over. If we can get the water level up, and warmer, it might help."

"Should we put some on the stove?"

"Not until after meals are cooked, and don't add any wood to the fire. We really don't have enough wood as it is. The tower's warm enough down here to melt the snow."