“It is. I can’t hope to slip out as long as her eye is open! The frustrating part is that I could be gone for hours and she would never know, if I could just get out this door.”
He was eager to show me what he could accomplish! We arranged for him to create a distraction in the morning at second bell, after which I would meet him at a place he named that I pretended to know the location of. He hadn’t even asked my name, although by the evidence of his gaze he had become well acquainted with the shape of my breasts.
I hid Chartji’s letter in the skull and retrieved the one to Kofi, and retreated to the summer cottage, where I threw tantrums and also actual objects any time anyone attempted to enter. By evening they simply waited outside for me to ring. At dawn I rang for broth and informed them I felt so ill I wanted only to sleep all day and must on no account be disturbed. Then I dressed in my boots, my riding skirt, and my repurposed cuirassier’s jacket, which gave me the look of a humble but respectable woman. My cane and my locket gave me courage. The cacica I had to leave behind, because I saw no way to move her without the djelimuso’s wondering why. Anyway, I had to leave Chartji’s letter somewhere I could hope Vai would think to look for it.
What distraction the young steward concocted I did not know. As soon as I heard a commotion from the sitting room, I was up a tree and onto the wall and thence over the sloped roofs. Without djeliw following my every move it was easy for me to escape, as the mansa had known it would be.
With my newly acquired knowledge of Lutetia as a map in my head, I enjoyed a refreshing walk down to the lovely Sicauna River and over a stone bridge and across the holy island dedicated to the Lady of the River with her diadem and boat. On such a fine sunny day many people walked the streets, but I sensed a mood of fear and anticipation. I strode along a wide boulevard leading to the northwest. The long facades of the buildings were broken by gates leading to interior courtyards. Flagstones shone, drenched by pools of light from the midday sun. Side avenues broke away to smaller temples, shops, and city manufactories powered not by steam but by hand. A long line of shuttered windows down one narrow lane bore the plain white stamp of goblinkind, but their workshops were closed down for the day. I saw no trolls at all, because no trolls were allowed into the central city by order of the Parisi prince.
After several miles I reached Arras Gate, built across an old defensive wall of earlier days. Folk stood in line at a toll station, arguing with the guards over the cost of import duties on the items they were carrying into the city. Wrapped in shadow I walked right through, no one the wiser. Outside the gate more buildings spread along the Arras Road, for the city was growing outward. To the left rose a wooded hill on whose height stood a holy sanctuary dedicated to one of the aspects of Mars the Soldier. Farther off to the left I glimpsed the smokestacks of a factory district. I asked directions to the Tavern with Two Doors.