Part 1 (2/2)

When he was done, and his advisers had no more advice to give, the servants repeated their rigmarole, but this time in reverse. Once he had stood up, his advisers began to sidle out of the room, leaving only General Maxin, who seemed to be taking an unaccountably long time to adjust his swordbelt.

'General, we sense by your subtlety that you wish to speak to us.'

'Some small diversion, Your Imperial Majesty, if you wish it.'

'The Rekef are becoming entertainers now, are they, General?'

'There is a man, Majesty, who has fallen into the hands of my agents. He is a most remarkable and unusual man and I thought that Your Majesty might welcome the chance to meet this individual. He is a slave, of course, and worse than just a slave, not fit to serve any useful purpose. In private he is full of strange words, though. Your Imperial Majesty's education might never have another chance such as this.'

Alvdan at last looked at Maxin directly, seeing a slight smile on the stocky old soldier's face. Maxin had not advised his father, the late Emperor, but he had been wielding a knife on the night after Alvdan's coronation, making sure that the next morning would be free from sibling dissent or disunity. He was not one for jokes.

'Well, General, we are intrigued. Take us to this man.'

The flight had been like something out of a fever dream, nightmarish, and unheard-of.

Thalric had come to Asta expecting to be punished. He had antic.i.p.ated encountering the grim face of Colonel Latvoc or even the pinched features of General Reiner, his superiors within the Rekef, because he had failed the Empire. There had been a mission to seize the rail automotive that the city of h.e.l.leron had called the Pride Pride, which was then to have provided the spearhead of an invasion to sack Collegium and have any dreams of Lowlands unity die stillborn. Instead, motley renegades under the command of Stenwold Maker had destroyed the Pride Pride and even managed somehow to cast suspicion of that destruction on the Wasp-kinden who had so stalwartly tried to save it. and even managed somehow to cast suspicion of that destruction on the Wasp-kinden who had so stalwartly tried to save it.

A small setback for the Empire, which must take by force, now, what might have been won by stealth. A great setback indeed for Captain Thalric of the Imperial Army, otherwise Major Thalric of the Rekef Outlander.

And yet there had been no court martial for him to face in the staging town of Asta. It seemed that the race for the Lowlands was now on, and even a flawed blade like Thalric could be put to good use. There had been sealed orders already awaiting him: Board the Board the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer. Further instructions to follow.

And the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer itself: it was a piece of madness, and no Wasp artificer had made her. Some maverick Auxillian technologist had come up with that design and inflicted it upon him. itself: it was a piece of madness, and no Wasp artificer had made her. Some maverick Auxillian technologist had come up with that design and inflicted it upon him.

It had no hull, or at least very little of one. Instead there was a reinforced wooden base, and a scaffold of struts that composed a kind of empty cage. There was a clockwork engine aft, which two men wound by pedalling furiously, and somewhat stubby wings that bore twin propellers. Thalric had boarded along with a pilot-engineer and Lieutenant te Berro, Fly-kinden agent of the Rekef, who was to brief him. Then the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer had lifted off, a fragile lattice of wood shuddering up and up through the air under the impelling force of her propellers. Up and up, rising in as tight a spiral as her pilot could drag her into, until they were sailing across the clouds indeed, and higher. Then the pilot let go the struts to either side, and the had lifted off, a fragile lattice of wood shuddering up and up through the air under the impelling force of her propellers. Up and up, rising in as tight a spiral as her pilot could drag her into, until they were sailing across the clouds indeed, and higher. Then the pilot let go the struts to either side, and the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer's vast grey wings fell open left and right, above and below, and caught the wind. The vessel that had seemed some apprentice's mistake was abruptly speeding over the world beneath it, soaring on swift winds westwards until they were casting across the Lowlands as high, it almost seemed, as the stars themselves sailed.

And it was so cold cold. Thalric was m.u.f.fled in four cloaks and layers of woollens beneath, yet the chill air cut through it all, an invisible blade that lanced through the open structure of the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer and put a rime of white frost on him, and painted his breath into white plumes before the wind whipped it away. and put a rime of white frost on him, and painted his breath into white plumes before the wind whipped it away.

They would reach Collegium faster than any messenger, eating up any lead that Stenwold had built, so that despite Thalric's detour to Asta it was anyone's guess who would arrive first. They were so high, up in the very icy roof of the sky, that no flying scout would spy them. Even telescopes might not pick out their silvery wings against the distant vault of the heavens.

And as he suffered through this ordeal, from the cold and the wind, he hunched forward to catch te Berro's fleeting words, for these were his instructions, his mission, and he would need to remember them.

'You're a lucky man,' the Fly said, shouting over the gale. 'Rekef can't spare an operative of your experience simply for a disciplinary trial. Lowlands work to be done all over the place. You get a second chance. Don't waste it.' They had worked together before, Thalric and te Berro, and a measure of respect had grown between them.

'We'll put you down near Collegium,' te Berro continued. 'Make your own way in. Meet with your agents there. There can be no unity allowed for the Lowlands. There are two plans. The first is swifter than the second, but you are to enact both of them if possible. Even if the first succeeds, the second will also help the war effort.'

And te Berro had explained to him then just what those plans were, and whilst the first was a commonplace enough piece of work, the second was a sharp one and the scale of it shook him a little.

'It shall be done,' he a.s.sured the Fly, as the Cloudfarer Cloudfarer continued its swift, invisible pa.s.sage over the Lowlands so far beneath them. continued its swift, invisible pa.s.sage over the Lowlands so far beneath them.

He walked into Collegium without mishap, entering at the slow time near noon when the city seemed to sleep a little. Collegium had white walls but the gates had stood open for twenty years, had only been closed even then because the Ants of Vek had harboured ambitions to annexe the Beetle city for themselves. There was a guard sitting by the gate, an old Beetle-kinden who was dozing a little himself. Collegium was not interested in keeping people out. If it had been, then he might not have needed to destroy it.

Thalric had been granted a short enough time in the city when he was here last. Two days only and then he had been bundled onto a fixed-wing flier to go and catch Stenwold Maker on the airs.h.i.+p Sky Without Sky Without. At that thought he tried to discern where the airfield lay from here and see whether the great dirigible was moored there today, but the walls were too high, the buildings looming above him, for much of Collegium was three-storey, and the poorer districts were four or five. He knew that the Empire had much to learn here. The poor of Collegium cursed their lot and complained and envied, but they had never witnessed how the poor of h.e.l.leron lived, or the imperial poor, or the slaves of countless other cities.

If we destroy Collegium, will we ever regain what is lost in the fires? Because it was not only a matter of writing down some secret taken from one of the countless books in the College library. This was a way of life, and it was a good thing to have and, like all good things, the Empire should have it. Imperial citizens should benefit from the knowledge of the men and women who had built this place. Because it was not only a matter of writing down some secret taken from one of the countless books in the College library. This was a way of life, and it was a good thing to have and, like all good things, the Empire should have it. Imperial citizens should benefit from the knowledge of the men and women who had built this place.

But the second plan that te Berro had given him would kill all that, and he had his orders.

The kernel of discontent that had been within him for a while now gave him a familiar kick, but he mastered it. If the Empire wanted things in such a way, the Empire would have it. He was loyal to the Empire.

He stopped so suddenly in the street that a pair of men manhandling a trunk barged into him and swore at him before they pa.s.sed on.

What a heretical idea. Better keep that one hidden deep in one's own thoughts. To even think that loyalty to the Empire, to the better future of the Empire, was not the same as loyalty to the Emperor's edicts or to the Rekef's plans, well, that sort of thinking would get a man on the interrogation table in a hurry. He had avoided a well-deserved reprimand for failing at h.e.l.leron and he wasn't about to start playing host to that kind of thought now, that was just asking for trouble. Better keep that one hidden deep in one's own thoughts. To even think that loyalty to the Empire, to the better future of the Empire, was not the same as loyalty to the Emperor's edicts or to the Rekef's plans, well, that sort of thinking would get a man on the interrogation table in a hurry. He had avoided a well-deserved reprimand for failing at h.e.l.leron and he wasn't about to start playing host to that kind of thought now, that was just asking for trouble.

But in the deepest recesses of his mind the idea turned over, and waited for another off-guard moment.

There had been Rekef agents before him in Collegium, of course. Whilst the Inlander branch of the Empire's secret service purged the disloyal at home, the Outlander had been seeding the cities of the Lowlands with spies and informants. Thalric had made contact with them when he was here last but their networks were four years old. Thalric sent Fly messengers across the city with innocuous letters into which codewords had been dropped like poison into wine. Those men and women the Rekef had infiltrated into this city had been making everyday lives for themselves. Now that was to end. He was calling them up.

He met with them in a low sailors' taverna near enough to the docks for them to hear the creak of rigging through the windows. It was a place where people would forget who it was that met with who, or what business might have been done there and that was just as well, too. They made an ill-a.s.sorted quartet.

The most senior was a lieutenant in the Rekef, and when Thalric had needed a pair of a.s.sa.s.sins to catch Stenwold Maker in his home he had gone to Lieutenant Graf, trueblood Wasp-kinden, who was working here as a procurer for the blades trade. That, in local parlance, meant that he made introductions between fighting men and prospective patrons, and it put Thalric's operation here on a sound footing straight off. Graf was a lean man, his face marred by a ragged sword-scar from brow to chin that Thalric knew for a duelling mark from the man's days in the Arms-Brethren. The eye traversed by that scar was a dark marble of gla.s.s.

The other three were all unranked on the Rekef books, mere agents. Hofi was a Fly-kinden who cut the hair of the rich and shaved the mighty, and Arianna was a Spider and a student of the College. The fourth man, Scadran the halfbreed, worked as a dockhand, catching all the rumours going in and out from both ways down the coast. Wasp blood adulterated with Beetle and Ant, his heavy features displayed the worst of all three to Thalric's eyes, but he was a big man, a brawler. That might be useful, in the end.

He had them at a corner table, drawn far enough from the others that low voices would not carry. They had come in plain garb and armed and they looked at him expectantly. If he sent them out into the city to kill that very night, they would be ready.

'Tell me about Stenwold Maker,' he said.

Lieutenant Graf glanced at the others and then spoke. 'He arrived the day before you, sir. Quite a tail of followers, too.'

'Was there a Mantis-kinden with them?' Thalric asked. His mind returned abruptly to the night battle at the engine works at h.e.l.leron that had seen the Pride Pride destroyed. There had been a Mantis there, making b.l.o.o.d.y work of every man who came against him until Thalric had burned him. Tisamon, Scyla's reports had named him, and his daughter had been Tynisa. destroyed. There had been a Mantis there, making b.l.o.o.d.y work of every man who came against him until Thalric had burned him. Tisamon, Scyla's reports had named him, and his daughter had been Tynisa. Tynisa Tynisa, who had very nearly done for Thalric when he came to finish the matter. In his heart he had hoped that the man had died from his wound, but Graf's next words surprised him not at all.

'Yes, sir, his name is Tisamon. I've learned he was a student at the College many years ago, at the same time as Maker. Even from back then, he had a reputation.'

'And well deserved,' Thalric confirmed. 'What movements?'

'Maker's settling his men in. He's applied to speak before the a.s.sembly, but that's likely to take a few days. He's not exactly popular. A maverick, they think, and he leaves his College duties too often. They'll stall him with bureaucracy for a while, maybe even a tenday, before they let him in. A slap on the wrist.'

'And the rest?'

'Many of the others are now at the College,' Arianna said. 'Some are in the infirmary, in fact. They brought some wounded with them from h.e.l.leron. There's a monstrous little wretch with them, though, some spiky kinden I've never seen before, and he's been going about the factories a lot, the engine yards and the rail depot.'

'That would be Scuto,' Thalric explained, 'Stenwold's deputy from h.e.l.leron. He's an artificer, I understand, so some of that might just be professional curiosity.' Thalric remembered his one meeting with Stenwold Maker, a few brave words over a shared drink: two men in the same work on opposite sides, but common ground nonetheless; they were two soldiers who had suffered the same privations under different flags.

And now I stalk him to his lair, and I must destroy him. Because I must believe he would do the same to me, I shall feel nothing.

'I have your orders,' he addressed the foursome. 'We'll need armed men, Lieutenant and craft from the rest of you. Stenwold Maker is not long for this world.'

<script>