Salute the Dark

Seventeen

The guards came rushing out at him straight away, but Thalric had caught them just as much by surprise as he had General Reiner. Thalric knew his trade and had spotted the sections of wall they would manhandle away and come bursting through, almost falling over themselves in their shock. They were not Rekef, so had expected threats, justifications, a warning from him. If he had not started killing them as soon as they exposed themselves they would not have known what to do with him.

He let his sting speak for him, striking them down even as they tried to pile into the room. He expected that they would kill him despite his efforts, but there were only four of them in the end. He had been a four-guard threat, in Reiner’s eyes. A moment later the other two from outside had crashed in, too late again, alerted only by the shouts of the first four. He killed them too before they quite understood.

He fled to the balcony and paused there, waiting. He himself would have had guards posted either side of the balcony doorway, but Reiner had positioned himself there instead. Thalric’s exit was clear.

There were no running footsteps, no shouts, no alarm.

With the utmost care he stepped back into the room, eyes roving dispassionately between Reiner’s corpse and those of his guards. It was over so very quickly that no word had spread. Had nobody even heard? Where were the staff and soldiers of this palace, to come running at the sound of seven murders?

The servants would normally be locals, so perhaps Reiner did not trust them. Perhaps he was right not to, given the reports Thalric had read in Tharn. As for the soldiers and other imperial officials who should be thronging up here, they were either off trying to crush a resistance that was already too great for them to get their fingers around or had already fallen victim to imperial politics. Looking down at the general’s thin face Thalric wondered whether Reiner had gone a little mad, at the end, backed into a self-made corner by mounting paranoia.

There was a knock on the door and, motivated by a foreknowledge of who this would be, Thalric called, ‘Come in.’

In came Colonel Latvoc, mouth already open to speak when he saw the wreckage. Thalric had a palm directed towards him but Latvoc made no move against him, just stared and stared. Something was melting behind his face, and it was his own future. The ship he had invested everything in, whose fortunes he had backed beyond all else and which he had clung to in the storm, was now sunk.

He fell to his knees and a noise came from him: not a word, or anything that Thalric had ever heard uttered by anyone before – just a small, thin noise of pure grief. It seemed to Thalric that, in that same moment, Colonel Latvoc suffered more over the loss of his general than did Felise Mienn over the deaths of her children.

Thalric felt no sympathy, finding again that he was a Rekef officer at heart. In the end he cared only for the Empire, and the Empire’s worst enemy, right now, was itself. It was men like Reiner and Latvoc here, yes, and Maxin and all the other conniving generals and colonels and governors who were tearing out pieces of the Empire for their own fiefdoms, behaving no better than the criminal gangs of Helleron. Even the Emperor himself, if he tolerated or encouraged such practices, was no longer exempt from Thalric’s contempt. Such a weight was suddenly lifted from his shoulders with that thought, for he had done something truly good for the Empire at last.

He hardly even had to make the decision. His hand seemed to flash fire of its own accord, searing into Latvoc’s slack face and smashing him to the floor.

Now he could go, his work here done. He went to the balcony and looked out across Myna, a city on the brink of uprising. In the circumstances, what should the good officer do?

Or what should the turncoat Lowlands agent do? Or the sometime companion of Che Maker?

That thought still rankled: he should not have left her. Worse, he should not even have put her in the situation. Che was in the hands of the resistance, that seemed certain, and they might already have killed her. They might, on the other hand, have believed her. Of course he, Thalric, had news now that the resistance would covet. How would the officers here cope now, now that the governor and his Rekef general master were both dead?

It took him only a moment, poised there on the balcony’s brink, to see it: the Wasp garrison would lash out. They would see this as a political killing and they would retaliate blindly in the heavy-handed way that Latvoc had taught them. Without precise targets, they would bludgeon the whole city in their wrath. Myna was about to feel the whip, but the slaver might yet find the slave snatching the weapon from his hand.

Wings flashing into life, he vaulted off the balcony, stepping out over the city. He would find the resistance. He would find Che. He owed her that much.

They were within sight of Hokiak’s Exchange when Kymene signalled a halt. Che stumbled, blundering into Chyses’ back, and he cuffed her hard with a hiss of annoyance. She was pinned between two of the Mynan Red Flag dressed as civilians, cloaked and hooded as if against a blustery day.

‘Kymene?’ Che asked. Chyses glared at her, but he was just as uncertain.

‘Something has changed,’ Kymene said, though there was no obvious reason for the remark. She might as well have made the declaration after just sniffing the air. Still, the men with her took her seriously. Chyses carefully drew his blade from its sheath, hiding it along the line of his arm. Ahead of them, a squad of Wasp soldiers crossed the street, from alley to alley. To Che they seemed hurried and yet uncertain, dashing most of the way before dawdling for a moment, then dashing on.

‘We should go back,’ Chyses suggested. ‘Or send for more men.’ Che’s two guards were their only escort. Kymene was not a leader to hide behind walls, Che gathered, but it was a two-edged sword. Her followers loved her for her bravery in taking the self-same risks she asked of them, but of course the Wasps would give a great deal to catch her. Che understood from Chyses that there had been some close calls since Kymene’s release from the palace, attempts by Wasps and mercenary hunters both to recapture the resistance’s leader.

Kymene gazed thoughtfully at the front of the Hokiak Exchange thoughtfully. Hokiak was more than capable of double-crossing her, and it would have been entirely in character. He would have done it differently, though: the trap would be elsewhere than his own den, and more subtle than sending a simple message that the very Thalric she wanted to see had just walked into the Exchange and given himself up.

A trap of the Empire, then? She and Chyses had made what examination they could of the Exchange’s exterior. They were used to spotting ambushes after long years of setting them. If there were Wasp soldiers waiting to drop on to Hokiak’s Exchange then she saw no sign of it. Furthermore, she was sure that Hokiak kept a few eyes of his own out, and she knew for certain that those venal Wasps who used his services to bring in contraband ensured that he always had warning of any intended raids. There was the alternative, unlikely as it sounded, that Thalric was exactly what Che said he was, and therefore a useful man to talk to.

But something is wrong. Not a simple betrayal, but my city has changed in some way.

She would recognize Thalric, while her men would not. So she had to go in herself. Chyses was all for burning down the Exchange, with both Hokiak and Thalric inside it, but she wanted to see the man and speak with him.

‘He killed the Bloat, remember,’ she murmured.

‘Not for us, he didn’t,’ Chyses shot back, and that was true.

‘We go in,’ she said.

He hissed in frustration, but he nodded in the end. They had not always been allies, the two of them, nor had he always been willing to take her orders. It was only after her capture that he had realized how much Myna needed her.

They found Thalric playing a game of dice and counters with one of Hokiak’s followers. The old Scorpion himself was lurking at the bar of his back room, which was inhabited only by his men and by Thalric. Chyses went in first, the drawn knife still hidden by his cloak, peering suspiciously at every face in turn. Hokiak’s men, a half-dozen of them, watched him just as carefully in return.

There was a change, though, that went through them when Kymene entered. They were mostly locals and, though they had given their pledge to gold rather than city, they knew her. When she lowered her hood, the Maid of Myna, both beautiful and stern, their slouching arrogance straightened up into something more respectful.

‘You took your time.’ Hokiak came hobbling over towards them, immune to all that. Across the gaming table, Thalric’s eyes found Che’s own.

‘Tell me what you’re playing at, old man,’ Kymene said. ‘You said he was your prisoner.’

‘He ain’t going nowhere,’ Hokiak said. ‘As for games, what have you got? You been list’ning at all out there? It’s like the start of a sandstorm, just beginnin’ to blow. You hear that?’

‘What’s changed, Hokiak?’

‘He’ll tell you.’ The Scorpion chuckled. ‘Gryllis, how’s it going?’

The voice of his Spider accomplice drifted in from the shop front. ‘Everything worth taking is boxed. The boys are moving it right now.’

‘Taking a trip?’ Kymene inquired. When the Scorpion just leered at her, she reached out and grabbed his collar, twisting it. His men moved, but uncertainly and without direction. In that moment it was clear, as it had not been before, that they would not attack Kymene even for their employer.

‘This city is like a keg of firepowder, and it’s just about ready for the match,’ Hokiak said casually, as though she did not have him by the throat. ‘I deal with all sorts here, you know that. I do good business with your lot and the Wasps, and with anyone. Ain’t no matter to me, so long as there’s business in it. I seen what’s coming, and I ain’t going to have no looters gettin’ their hands on my valuables. Just taking care, that’s all.’

‘What’s happened?’ she asked. ‘Why now?’

Thalric stood up. ‘I remember you,’ he said. ‘From the palace. You were Ulther’s prisoner.’

Kymene nodded. ‘And you his executioner.’ She saw him flinch, however hard he tried to hide it. ‘You did me good service, Major Thalric. I remember you too.’

Hokiak chuckled, tugging his collar from her fingers and sloping back towards the bar. ‘You ain’t heard nothing,’ he said.

‘Speak to me, Thalric.’ Kymene approached him. She caught Che’s wrist as she went, pulling the Beetle girl after her. ‘This one says you’ve turned traitor to your own now. I don’t believe it.’

‘It’s a philosophical question,’ Thalric replied with a bleak smile. ‘I still believe that I am a good imperial officer. It’s only that the Empire doesn’t seem to be what it should be.’

Her lip curled. ‘And so what?’

There was a sudden banging at the front door of the Exchange, and abruptly Hokiak’s men were on their feet, reaching for crossbows or drawing swords. Chyses’ knife flashed in the lamplight. A moment later Gryllis appeared in the doorway.

‘Empire or her lot?’ Hokiak demanded.

‘Empire!’ Gryllis proclaimed. ‘Two whole squads of them.’ He ducked back out front as the splintering sound from the shop front told of the door being smashed in. The old Scorpion leant forward stubbornly on his cane.

‘Why Lieutenant Parser, my old friend!’ they heard Gryllis cry, all fake cheer. ‘You know you only had to knock-’

‘Out of the way, Gryllis,’ a Wasp voice snapped.

‘But listen, whatever you want-’

‘We’re here to search your place, old man. Nothing personal. Everyone gets turned over tonight. Everyone but everyone. You just stay quiet and you can walk away.’

‘What did you do?’ Kymene demanded in an urgent whisper.

‘I killed Colonel Latvoc,’ Thalric replied. ‘I killed General Reiner and I gave you your revolution. Enjoy.’

Abruptly there were Wasps in the room, pushing into it with their swords drawn, hands outstretched. Kymene flicked up her cowl.

Thalric counted a score of Wasps: not a targeted raid, just a fiercely punitive one. Because of him, bands like this would be kicking in doors all over the city. ‘Lieutenant, hold!’ he snapped out. With the automatic reflex of a soldier hearing orders the officer held up his hand to stay his men.

‘Who are you?’ The lieutenant was a young man, but no fool. ‘If you’re a soldier, you’re out of uniform.’

‘What are your orders, Lieutenant?’ Thalric asked him. ‘What’s the news from the palace?’

‘We’re rounding up every known rebel we can catch,’ the officer replied instinctively, and then, ‘And we’re not answering questions from a stranger!’ Thalric sensed the frayed nerves there, meaning the news had already got around the garrison, for all the efforts the senior officers might have made to keep it quiet.

Thalric glanced at Che, then at Kymene. Oh, they picked the right place, for all that they don’t know it. A prime Lowlander spy and the leader of the resistance. The Rekef would have a field day. He looked over at Hokiak and saw the same thoughts written on the old man’s lined features.

And I could sink the resistance right here, and save Myna for the Empire, Thalric reflected. There were swords drawn on both sides, the numbers weighted in favour of the Wasps, but then he heard the sound of even more soldiers entering the shop front.

He nodded to Hokiak.

‘Che,’ Thalric signalled briefly. Abruptly there were Hokiak’s men on either side of him.

‘Thalric?’ Che asked, even as the lieutenant ordered, ‘Arrest the lot of them. Search the back, too.’

‘I’m the one you want,’ Thalric announced calmly.

‘Oh, and why’s that?’ the lieutenant asked.

‘Because I killed the governor.’

They froze, every one of them. The news obviously had trickled down to the very rank and file of the garrison. Every man among them was staring at him, and the mixture of expressions amused him, in a brief moment of clarity. They were making sure they looked as though they hated him for what he had done, but clearly Latvoc had not been loved.

‘Say that again,’ their officer said slowly.

‘Lieutenant,’ Hokiak began softly, ‘you know me. You know me well. I do good business for the Empire, right? You don’t want to come and smash my place up, on account of I got stuff here that it ain’t… politic to find, see?’

The lieutenant looked from him to Thalric, and back.

‘I kept this fellow for you, right? I was going to send news to your lot. He’s yours, so take him. Just let me and my people here keep on doing business.’

From his thoughtful look, Lieutenant Parser was obviously no stranger to Hokiak’s services, and a few of his men had shown a similar interest in the old man’s words.

‘Nothing else to declare, is there?’ he asked, staring at Thalric again.

‘Is the governor’s murder not enough for you?’ Thalric asked.

‘You’re remarkably flippant for a man about to die.’

Thalric sensed Che tense beside him. Not for me, stupid girl, and certainly not here. ‘You won’t kill me, Lieutenant. You’re a clever man. There’s a man named Maxin back in Capitas who’ll be very interested to hear that I killed General Reiner and his pet flea.’

The lieutenant was a good officer and he had a sense of his own political future, even here and now. ‘Bring him,’ he ordered brusquely.

‘Thalric-’ Che protested.

‘Quiet.’ He looked down at her, putting a hand to her cheek. Stupid, clumsy Beetle girl, you should be dead a dozen times over. And yet here she was, and he knew, as he had known for a long time, that he liked her. Her Moth-scholar is indeed a lucky man. Before she could react, he ducked and kissed her briefly, watched her eyes widen in shock, though she did not pull away. Then the soldiers had him.

‘You keep yourself quiet down here,’ the lieutenant was instructing Hokiak. ‘If they tell me to come back and torch this firepit, I will do.’

‘Of course,’ the Scorpion said humbly. ‘Me and my people will keep our heads down, don’t you worry.’

The lieutenant’s eyes passed over the others gathered there with a hint of suspicion. ‘They’re all yours? You can vouch for them?’ the officer asked.

The sweep of Hokiak’s broken-clawed hand took in Che, took in Kymene and her escort, cloaked them with the anonymity of his own surly bodyguards. ‘Like my own flesh and blood, Lieutenant.’ This was his token gesture of taking sides, as much as he ever would.