Part 11 (1/2)

'I don't understand understand them, but I love them. All the little parts and pieces!' them, but I love them. All the little parts and pieces!'

Despite the lack of available s.p.a.ce, the artificers had taken them aboard willingly. They were engaged in a high-risk venture, for there could be brigands or even militia in their way, but Felise Mienn was the woman who had killed a dozen Last-Chancers single-handed. When she had asked Destrachis why they were taking him too, he had told her it was for the same reason.

'You're a fighter?' She had sounded sceptical. He was a man for the underhand knife, perhaps, but no warrior.

'I'm a doctor,' he had said, with some dignity. 'Or at least that was my training. I've been a lot of things since. Anyway, it's a risky trip we're on now. Injuries are likely from the journey or the machine itself. They'll be glad to have me patching them up.'

The nameless little automotive scorched across the miles, the fastest thing in the Lowlands, according to its crew. Even the Pride Pride itself would not be able to do this journey so swiftly, they boasted, since the power of its ingenious engine would be hindered by the weight of its carriages. itself would not be able to do this journey so swiftly, they boasted, since the power of its ingenious engine would be hindered by the weight of its carriages.

Felise was amazed that she could even catch her breath, amazed that the constantly churning engine did not fly apart or the crewmen get caught in its works or burned at any minute. The rush of the engine, the sweep of the countryside as it was hustled past them, the occasional brief image of some small village or herder's croft, it all seemed to sing in her heart.

Would this be such a bad life? Perhaps she could find these men again, when she was done, after- Perhaps she could find these men again, when she was done, after- After what? For surely there would be no after. The one task that had sustained her this far would take the world with it once it was done. As though peering from a brightly lit room into the clouded night skies, she could see no after. For surely there would be no after. The one task that had sustained her this far would take the world with it once it was done. As though peering from a brightly lit room into the clouded night skies, she could see no after.

But this thought, with so much else, was soon blown past her by the incessant wind, and Destrachis was still grinning at her, so she smiled back at him and allowed herself to enjoy.

Destrachis woke with the tip of a blade at his throat. For a second he twitched uncontrollably, instincts yelling at him to do something, anything. He suppressed them, lying calmly for a moment to gather himself. Then he opened his eyes. There was a little moonlight slanting across them, and his eyes and hers, he knew would pick out enough from it to see their way.

'I'm awake,' he said quietly. They were in a Wayhouse located not far from Collegium. She had paid the surprised Way Brothers for a private room, and let Destrachis take a place on the floor, but now she had apparently had second thoughts.

Felise Mienn studied him down the length of her sword, and he thought she was trembling slightly in the faded moonlight.

'How do I know I can trust you?' she demanded.

He allowed himself a slight smile. He knew from experience that, on his slightly lined face, it seemed an expression of infinite rea.s.surance. 'Felise-'

'You are too convenient,' she said. 'I think . . . I think you may be working for him. For Thalric or for his masters. You are here only to stop me. Or else to warn him.'

She was was trembling, he saw, but for all that the sword was still. Its tip was close enough to dimple the skin of his neck, but it drew no blood. trembling, he saw, but for all that the sword was still. Its tip was close enough to dimple the skin of his neck, but it drew no blood.

'Felise, please listen to me.' It was long practice that allowed him to lie there, as calm as a cloudless sky, and speak in such reasoned and measured tones.

'Why would you leave your work in h.e.l.leron?' she asked.

'I am a mercenary at best, I have no roots-'

'And why come along with me, just like that?'

'You have money, do you not?'

'And why-?'

'But most of all,' he said, risking much to cut across her increasingly urgent questioning, 'we have had this conversation before.'

Dead silence from her. He stared into that face, beautiful as it was, and, in that instant, he saw nothing whatsoever alive behind her eyes. He granted her a long moment, and then continued.

'Three days ago, camping beside the automotive, we had this exact conversation. Remember, it scared the squits out of those smugglers we were with? You accused me of being a Wasp agent. You had me pinned like this, almost exactly the same. It was the middle of the night, just like now. And then we talked, and I explained to you that, no, I wasn't a Wasp agent, and that if you wanted me to leave you, then I'd do it, but I'd rather not. I'm simply a travelling companion who is, for the moment, heading in the same direction as yourself. And I'm not overly fond of the Empire, either. And I have watched you fight, and I find you admirable.'

'Admirable,' she echoed. He was not entirely sure she had understood his words.

'Capable of being admired,' he explained lazily. 'I have lived in a great many places, both inside and outside the Lowlands, Felise, and I have never met anyone quite like you.'

She was trembling again, and he knew that this was the point where the loose string in her head that was keeping her in check might snap, or not. He fought down his own anxiety and made himself wait.

'I . . .' There was the look of a lost child on her face, and the 'I' she spoke of was someone else, someone surfacing from long ago to take brief possession of a body long vacated. 'Where am I? What is this place?'

'Just a Wayhouse on the road. We'll go to Collegium tomorrow.'

'What's . . . Collegium?' She seemed dazed.

He wondered what would happen if he led her deliberately astray now, invented some other purpose for her. How long would the deception last, and could it be that simple? But, no, here came her familiar expression once more, ice spreading across her face and making her cold and hard again.

Abruptly her sword was back in its scabbard. 'He is there,' she reminded herself. is there,' she reminded herself.

'Or has been there,' he corrected, allowing himself to sit up, gingerly touching his throat but finding not a mark on it.

'He is there,' she repeated. 'And I will fall on him, and all his allies, and leave not one alive.' is there,' she repeated. 'And I will fall on him, and all his allies, and leave not one alive.'

The worrying thing, for Destrachis, was how this thought seemed not to fire her up but to calm her down.

Lieutenant Graf perused the dispatch, keeping his expression carefully blank. Amidst the scars, his one eye flicked back and forth over the few words it contained, looking for a way out.

'Major?' he began at last, and Thalric saw that, like so many in his position, he was a man who had forgotten, until this moment, what really frightened him.

'Never underestimate the cowardice of a subject race,' Thalric said, and Graf studied him cautiously.

'I had not thought . . .' Graf twisted in his chair. It was something Thalric had observed before, when underlings had sudden sight of the spectre of authority at his shoulder. Graf was a man who could, perhaps, have bested him, certainly a man who had no reason to believe he could not. Thalric was his superior, though. Most of all, Thalric was higher within the ranks of the Rekef. And, although it was Thalric's plan as much as Graf's, it was, here and now, the subordinate's role to bear the blame.

'We neither of us predicted it, because we are Wasps. This development is merely a result of the weakness of our enemies,' said Thalric, growing tired, letting the other man off the hook. 'Perhaps we should have foreseen, but the plan seemed sound enough to me when you first outlined it.'

Graf visibly relaxed into his seat as Thalric took the paper from him. It was advance word from a man he kept fee'd in the Amphiophos, where the a.s.sembly met. This man was just a servant, but he saw everything that went on there.

'Well, the endgame can be salvaged, even though we might look like fools for all the rest.' It had seemed reasonable, for Stenwold was already no friend of the a.s.sembly. He had dangerous ideas and he left his post too often to undertake private ventures. He a.s.sociated with dangerous and unsavoury types, yet now he wanted to speak to the a.s.sembly, and they wanted to make him wait, to consider the error of his ways. Graf and Thalric had wanted to drive a wedge between Stenwold and his peers, so that the wait might become an eternity, so that his voice might never be heard.

'So what happens?' Thalric asked disgustedly. 'He is constantly seen, agitating, rousing up the students of the College, going to dubious places to speak the very words that have so riled their precious a.s.sembly in the past. And would you not think that this disgraceful behaviour would sour matters further, that they would cast him from their ranks and have done with it? If this were a place with any decent rule of law the man would have been crucified as a troublemaker before now.' He crumpled the piece of paper and threw it across the room.

'Yet now they want to speak to him,' he spat. 'All his rabble-rousing has them quaking in their sandals. They're desperate, now, to have him where they can see him, and if that means they must allow him his hearing then so be it. They're too feeble or too frightened to take the beetle by the horns and have the wretch arrested.'

'But at least they won't be well disposed to him, when they meet,' Graf suggested.

Thalric turned a hard gaze on him, 'They won't meet, Lieutenant. We're going to see to that. Our final move is to happen now. now. Get word to Arianna straight away. Tonight would be best, and let's hope that word of the a.s.sembly's decision won't even have reached him. Then gather your men. I a.s.sume they've been briefed on who lives and who dies?' Get word to Arianna straight away. Tonight would be best, and let's hope that word of the a.s.sembly's decision won't even have reached him. Then gather your men. I a.s.sume they've been briefed on who lives and who dies?'

'Death for the Mantis and his daughter,' confirmed Graf, 'but Stenwold lives, if possible.'

'And dies if not,' Thalric completed. 'And when he disappears or dies we'll put the word around that the a.s.sembly had him dealt with after all, and then see how badly his precious students take it.'

Arianna left Stenwold dozing on his back again, lulled asleep by her latest embrace. The house was quiet, and she washed and dressed swiftly, and left even as dawn was creeping up the skirts of the eastern sky.

The stalls of the markets were in place already, the earliest business of the day commencing. Arianna wandered through them casually until she was sure she was not being watched or followed.

Her feet then found the path into the richer district of the mercantile quarter, close to the white walls of the College itself. The shopfronts here were just being unshuttered, for the rich could afford to rise later and with more leisure. Most of those out on the street already would be servants, waiting for one place or the other to open its doors for business. She pa.s.sed on.