Salute the Dark

by Adrian Tchaikovsky

  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.

  Eighteen

  ‘I have considered your proposal, General,’ the Emperor Alvdan the Second declared. The last of his advisors, slow old Gjegevey, was just shambling out of the room, leaving the Emperor still slouching on his central throne.

  ‘Your Imperial Majesty,’ said Maxin neutrally. The Emperor’s face gave nothing away, he did not even look directly at the Rekef General, but Maxin’s mind was busy straining the possibilities. The ‘proposal’ now referred to could mean only one thing: the future of the Rekef.

  ‘I have sent for General Brugan. I understand he is still in the capital.’

  He was, and that had been cause for some disquiet as far as Maxin was concerned. Brugan was every bit the dutiful soldier: his achievements in the East-Empire had been numerous but untrumpeted, accomplished efficiently and without fanfare. He had put down rebellions and infiltrated cities, but he had been long away from Capitas and word of his triumphs had not spread far. Now he was here, though, and Maxin had been watching him closely even as he went about mundane and expected business. Maxin was never the trusting sort.

  ‘I have also sent word to General Reiner,’ Alvdan said. Now he was watching Maxin keenly, though Maxin’s expression was merely one of polite interest.

  ‘Your Imperial Majesty?’

  ‘I have asked him if he would have any objection to your reorganization,’ continued Alvdan mildly. ‘He has sent me no reply.’

  ‘I am not surprised, your Majesty.’ Because he’s dead, dead, dead. Maxin trusted himself to be ahead of the Emperor in any news. After all, was he not the man supposed to keep the crown informed? Oh yes, Reiner was dead, and there was at least a chance Alvdan had not yet discovered it for himself. The unexpected executioner was in the hands of Maxin’s agents and on his way to Capitas even now. I should thank him, really. I should give him a medal. Instead the culprit would be executed in some very public way, this blessed assassin, as befits the murderer of an imperial general. One could not allow such a precedent to be set.

  ‘May I enquire,’ he said carefully, ‘what decision you have come to?’

  Alvdan gave him a wintry smile. ‘You have omitted an honorific, I think, General.’

  ‘Your Imperial Majesty.’

  ‘Do not take me for a fool. I know your schemes only too well. I have an Empire full of plotters, and every man after his own profit. Well, I can use that, nevertheless. I am still Emperor, and though my subjects twist and turn, all that they achieve is advancement for the Empire, would you not say?’

  ‘Of course, your Majesty.’ Maxin watched him closely. The Emperor seemed in a flippant mood, which seldom boded well.

  ‘You have done your best to cripple General Reiner.’ Alvdan studied him, abruptly stern. His posture on the throne was suddenly that of a severe Emperor addressing a mere subject. ‘His silence we find ominous, but time shall tell. You have continued to keep General Brugan far from here, where we should not notice him. But know that his acts have been noted. He has been a good and loyal subject, and all the more so for his distance.’

  Maxin found his palms opening reflexively, where a man of any other kinden might have clenched his fists. Alvdan currently regarded him with so little love that it seemed any moment he must call for his guards to take the general away.

/>   Then the Emperor smiled, and the moment of suspense broke. ‘The Empire rewards service ably performed. The Emperor, in particular, rewards service well done. Do not think that I have forgotten who removed all those troublesome siblings … Ah, General Brugan.’

  Maxin turned to see the younger general walk in and kneel before the throne.

  ‘Rise, General. You have enjoyed your stay in Capitas, we hope.’

  ‘I have, your Imperial Majesty.’

  ‘We have a proclamation for your ears, General, concerning the Rekef and its structure.’

  Brugan did not even look at Maxin, but fixed his eyes at a space immediately before the Emperor.

  ‘We have decided that our father erred,’ said Alvdan, clearly savouring the words even as he spoke them. ‘Three men to wrestle for the future of the Rekef ? No, for once, and in this one matter, he erred. There must be one man only leading the Rekef against our enemies.’

  Brugan still made no reaction, only waited.

  ‘We are therefore appointing our General Maxin here as lord of all the Rekef. Since we cannot very well demote yourself and General Reiner, he shall henceforth be entitled Supreme General, second in rank only to the crown itself. I trust you have no objection to our will.’

  Maxin was watching the other man with all the practice of a spymaster. There was no defiance in him, no anger, but there was simply … nothing. General Brugan did not kick against the imperial edict, he showed no resentment whatsoever. That was the unnatural part of it. Maxin knew that Brugan was always the dutiful soldier, but to be put down thus, passed over, and show absolutely no emotion … There was something more going on here, that Maxin was not aware of. For a man in his position it was an acutely uncomfortable realization.

  ‘I shall do in all things as your Majesty directs,’ replied Brugan simply, and he then looked sidelong, and very briefly, at General Maxin, but still without any expression that could be read.

  ‘You are dismissed now, General. We anticipate that, after the celebrations for the anniversary of our coronation, you shall be returning to the East-Empire.’