The Rite of Spring: The Dragon Hunter

The Rite of Spring: Fragment 27

The Dragon Hunter
which tells of how Linnain arrived in the City, and met an acquaintance

That last day coming down the river goes pissing slow. The bargemen at the stern lean on their sweep, pull, push, pull, push, chanting interminable dirges. the country around is quite flat, so that all you can see are the flood dykes, and the occasional treetop, the roof of a taller building, a windpump. The huge mass of the High Place looms ahead, monstrous, seeming to take up half the sky, never seeming to get any nearer. You don't see anything of the city.

Then suddenly, just when it seems that the river must disappear under the great lowering bulk of the place, it swings round hard to the right, and you see the long line of the City on the east bank. We drifted slowly down. The bargemen were working harder - pull! push! pull! push! - eager to be home, but the barge was piss heavy and crawled along. There was plenty of time to look. First the wall, and the bulk of the upriver gate. Then the green lawns, and the great blocks of the rich merchant houses along waterside. Then, as we came further round the bend, sweeping now to the left, we could see the staggering height of the Thousand Steps going up to the High Place on the west. The great cliffs glowered over us, dwarfing the barracks at their foot. On our right, the merchant houses got richer. Then the long line of the great houses, their honey coloured stone glowing in the sunlight, great squatting bulks on the long steps of the riverbank. There were flags flying from many of their towers, which I've never seen before - but then, in truth, I've not been to the City often. At last we were met by a tug, a rope was thrown, and with a threshing of the tugs oars we were pulled in to the inland quays by the House of the Foot.

It's kind of sudden, coming into the City at the South end of River Street. Before, I've walked in, down the length of the street, and that way the change is gradual. Up at the North end, around the Houses of Pleasure, folk wear much what they would in the country - comfortable, cool loose clothes in warm colours, and no more of them than they feel the need for. Sure enough, people show off more in the City, but even so, at the North end of River Street they show off in ways that I understand. Someone who thinks they've got good hair will grow it long, and won't wear a headcloth; someone who thinks they've good legs will bare them. Folk dress to show what they've got.

Down at the South end, you'd think they dress to hide it. Well, I suppose I do, but that feels different... anyway, all the craftspeople and artisans, they mostly belong to the cult of the Hand, they all wear shapeless black things - and the women who follow the Mouth and the Eye are worse. You can scarcely see they're people, let alone what they look like. Then there's the cult of the Ear - they all wear grey. All told, the so-called Houses of Light are a pretty dull lot.

Now that I was in the City I didn't know what to do. In fact I was thinking what a pissing silly idea it had been. I'd forgotten how huge the City is. I'd never find the bint, and the mother knows I didn't want to mess with the Rhiconicfhear. I wasn't about to sneak across to the doorstep and ask them. If she'd got this far she'd be there by now; even if she would come, I couldn't get her away from them. Better to forget the bint.

There's hostel in the City, of course, that the Foot runs; but in the City there's other places to stay. There's a family of Yachorach I'm friendly with, who keep rooms in one of the alleys off Moon Street behind the Theatre, so I went and organised a bed there. Then I went out to look for some food, and some amusement. But before even that, I needed some money, so I went first to the House of the Mother, told them who I was, told them the secret word they'd given me at Fourth Cataract, and came away with a small purse. As I came out of the House, I almost fell over a man in a grubby old shepherd's robe. I'm not bad at faces, but still I had to look twice. It was the pisser from the hostel - the one with the silly questions and the purring voice. He looked straight through me as if he'd never seen me before. I did not like it one little bit.

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