Part 23 (1/2)

'Don't feel too rea.s.sured,' he went on. 'Another failure and I may well be done. The war is going worse than ever.'

'You can't be blamed for that!'

'I would be quick enough to take the credit, were it going well. And I can can be blamed for the Aachim invasion, as we are calling it. Without Tiaan, it would never have occurred.' be blamed for the Aachim invasion, as we are calling it. Without Tiaan, it would never have occurred.'

'But you weren't anywhere near here. If anyone should be blamed, it's me!'

'Don't remind me!' he growled, draining his gla.s.s and filling it again, along with hers. 'Einunar is my province. I'm supposed to know everything that's going on, and be in control of it.'

'How badly is the war going?'

'Very badly!'

'People have been saying that for a long time.'

'It's been going badly for a long time, but it's going worse now. We've been losing territory for years, but not gaining any. It could be all over in twelve months, and then we'll be in pens, waiting to be eaten.'

'Is it really that hopeless?' She took a st.u.r.dy pull at her gla.s.s.

'No. We're working on a lot of ... secret weapons. If one or two of them come off, it could make all the difference.'

'What sort of secret weapons?'

'If I told you, they would not be secret, would they? Think of the ways clankers have changed warfare compared to foot soldiers and cavalry, and apply that Art to everything we do. We could use controllers to power dozens of different kinds of devices night lights, weapons, pumps, boats. And indeed we must, for we no longer have the labour to do otherwise.'

The thought was less comforting than it seemed. 'We're already overusing the Secret Art,' she said, 'and seeing nodes drained of their fields. I would be worried about the consequences, were I on the Council.'

'Thankfully you will never be,' he said smoothly, 'so you can leave that worry to us.'

'The enemy also have secret projects, like their flesh-forming. What if that succeeds?'

'We'll need our own devices to combat it.' He looked away. He did not want to talk about that.

Irisis had a sudden thought. 'Wasn't the querist studying their flesh-forming? I haven't seen Fyn-Mah for months.' Fyn-Mah, the querist or spymaster for the city of Tiksi, answered to the perquisitor and therefore, indirectly, to Flydd.

'She was and still is.'

'Where is she?'

'Away on Council business. Don't ask that kind of question.'

'What about the Aachim and their eleven thousand constructs? Are they with us or against us?'

'We don't know. There has been contact with them, though it wasn't fruitful.'

'What do you think?' She held out her gla.s.s for more brandy.

'I'd say they are too bitter to negotiate. Bitter that the Charon kept them as slaves on their own world. Doubly bitter that since the Forbidding was broken their world has become uninhabitable. I hear they blame us, which is a worry. We have no answer to their constructs, and maybe the lyrinx don't either. We're both weak after so much war. The Aachim are strong. What they choose to do will decide the fate of the world.'

'So how important is our work? Really Really?'

'Finding out what happened to the node is vital.'

'Then why don't we do that first?'

'Because without crystal this entire manufactory, and the others we supply with controllers, are useless. If we can't produce them, my head will soon be hanging over the gate and a new scrutator will take over. You would be out within a week. You're tainted, Irisis.'

'Who would the new scrutator be?'

'I can't talk about things like that. However, I can tell you one thing I was premature to write off Nish's father. Perquisitor Jal-Nish Hlar has fought back from his injuries. He will always be a horror to look at, he will always be in pain, but that has only hardened his ambition. He still wants to be scrutator and there's only one way he can get there. Over my maimed and mutilated body.'

She wrapped her arms around herself. It felt as if something had just scuttled over her coffin and was clawing at the lid, trying to get in. 'Were you ever friends?'

'No. I was his mentor for a time, but that was terminated by mutual agreement. Jal-Nish is too ambitious, and ambitious people can't be trusted. They're always looking out for themselves.'

'Coming from someone who has been scrutator for thirty years, that's a bit rich!'

'I was made scrutator because I was better at what I did than anyone else. I never wanted to be on the Council, though having got there, I cling to it because I know what happens once you let go. I still think I can do the job better than anyone else, in spite of the last few months. Ah, it's hot in here. You don't mind if I take off my s.h.i.+rt, do you?'

'I've seen your chest before,' she said with a chuckle. 'I don't expect to lose control.'

He pulled it over his head, revealing a scarred and sinewy torso that looked as though all the flesh had been gouged out from under the skin.

'I wonder about you,' she said, fascinated. He was ugly but not grotesque. The scrutator was such a likeable man, once you got to know him, that his appearance became irrelevant.

'People do.'

'Who did such terrible things to you?'

He emptied his gla.s.s but did not answer.

She held out the bottle. 'More?'

'No, thank you. I've a job to do later on and I'll need my wits for it. The Council of Scrutators did this to me. At least, it was done at their command.'

'Why would they torture their own?' she said, appalled.

'I was not scrutator then. I was a perquisitor; a young and handsome one, rising fast. I became too full of myself, and too curious. As you know, the scrutators have the best spy network in the land. We pride ourselves on knowing everything, though of course there's no such thing as perfect knowledge. I was too clever. I pored over what everyone else had looked at, and saw something no one else had seen. I saw a pattern. People had been a little careless.'

'What are you talking about?'

He rubbed his chest, pointedly. 'Do you really want to know?'

She did not. She sipped. He reached for the bottle, drew back, then filled his gla.s.s after all. They sat in a companionable silence, listening to the crackling of the fire.

'It was about our master,' he said, now slurring just a little.