Cardinal Septimus glanced at Tarka and something wordless seemed to pass between them. The general said nothing more. I wondered if Macharius really had found a chink in the heretics’ defences and part of me agreed with what Crassus had said. It was indeed a pity that Macharius had not spotted it before all the slaughter we had endured there. I kept my face expressionless. The important thing was that Macharius had found us a route to victory.
I could not let myself doubt that.
The Drunken Ratling was crowded. Sergei Krimov made space for me in the corner booth. He ordered drinks and introduced me to a couple of friends. They were not from his regiment, though they wore the uniform. They did not sound like Belial Hivers. They did not sound like anybody from Belial at all.
They did not look at all daunted by the suspicious looks I shot at them. ‘These are friends of mine,’ Sergei said. ‘They wanted to meet you and I could not see the harm.’
His face was carefully bland but I guessed that this was anything but a chance meeting. Perhaps the whole thing was a setup from our very first encounter. I took a drink and tried not to let the thoughts show on my face.
‘This is Konstantin and this is Mikhail,’ said Sergei. If those were their real names, I was a Space Wolf. I toyed with saying so, but it hardly seemed diplomatic. Konstantin was a big man with cropped hair and a nose that had been flattened by a blow of great force. Mikhail was smaller and lighter. He had a writhing way of turning that made me think of a weasel.
‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said Konstantin. Mikhail said nothing.
‘Likewise,’ I said. ‘Which part of the Masterforge do you hail from?’
Konstantin ignored my question, probably because he did not have an answer for it. Instead, he said, ‘You are one of the heroes who guard the Lord High Commander.’
‘I am part of the Lion Guard,’ I said. ‘The uniform gives it away, I suppose.’
‘It is a post of quite awesome responsibility,’ Konstantin said, ‘and no few risks.’
‘The life of a Guardsman is full of those,’ I said, ‘as you must know yourself.’
The more I talked with Konstantin and looked at Mikhail, the less I was sure this was true. There was something about their manner that suggested they had never been common soldiers, had perhaps never been soldiers at all.
‘True, true,’ he said, ‘but defending Macharius must be especially dangerous. There are assassins everywhere…’
‘Surely not here on Acheron,’ I said. ‘No one could be so disloyal.’
‘Alas, perhaps even here,’ said Konstantin. He had quite a light voice for so large a man, and a confiding tone of voice.
‘If you know of any conspiracy against the Lord High Commander you should inform the proper authorities,’ I said.
‘Perhaps that is what I am doing,’ he said. Mikhail studied his drink, studied his fingernails, glanced at me and returned to studying his drink. I wondered exactly who he was and what he was doing here.
‘Perhaps?’ Sergei rose from the table and said, ‘I shall get some more drinks.’ It seemed he did not want to be present for this part of the conversation.
‘You do not seem so surprised about talk of a conspiracy,’ said Konstantin. ‘Perhaps you have heard talk of such things, of such disloyalty.’
‘I have heard that there are those who are not happy with the Lord High Commander’s recent generalship.’
‘There are always disaffected souls,’ said Konstantin. I was starting to wonder who he really was. Could he perhaps be one of Drake’s agents testing my loyalty? Or was he something else. ‘There are those who plot a change in the leadership of the crusade.’
I said nothing. There are times when it is best simply to keep your mouth shut. Konstantin looked at Mikhail, as if seeking support, but the smaller one seemed too wrapped up in the contemplation of his glass, so Konstantin went on speaking.
‘A man who uncovered such a conspiracy could become wealthy,’ he said.
I wondered if he was seeking a reward for information. It seemed unlikely. There were far better people to approach if such were the case. Of course, it was possible that I was the only potential contact he had.
‘Perhaps,’ I said.
‘You could become a wealthy man if you uncovered such a conspiracy.’ There was a strange emphasis on the way he said the words, and I suddenly became aware that Mikhail, despite all appearances to the contrary, was paying close attention to what was being said. He seemed in some subtle way to be straining at an invisible leash.
‘Perhaps,’ I said.
‘You would like to become a wealthy man,’ Mikhail said. He was making a statement, passing a considered judgement.
‘Who would not?’
‘As one of Macharius’s Guards you must be rich already.’
‘You are sadly misinformed if you think that.’
‘The Lord High Commander is not generous?’
‘The Lord High Commander expects his soldiers to perform the duties they swore to. Service to the Emperor is reward enough.’
‘And you believe in doing your duty?’
‘I believe in serving the Emperor.’
‘Serving Macharius is not the same as serving the Emperor.’
‘At the moment it is,’ I said.
‘Ah, at the moment,’ said Mikhail. ‘That is an important qualification.’
‘And if Macharius were to be replaced, as it seems he is, you would serve his successor just as loyally.’
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘Tell me, what do you think will become of you when Macharius departs?’ he asked. ‘He will have no more need of a personal guard.’
‘I will serve as I am told.’
‘You will be returned to your original regiment,’ said Mikhail.
‘I can think of worse things,’ I said.
‘I can think of better.’
‘Why don’t you tell me of them,’ I said.
‘You could be kept on as part of the retinue of the new commander, promoted, given special assignments, even retire with honour and great wealth.’
‘That would be pleasant,’ I said. ‘But we were talking about conspiracies against Macharius. We seem to have come a long way from there.’
‘There is evidence to be gathered, reports to be made,’ said Konstantin. ‘We will let you know when things are finalised. For now we must depart. It has been pleasant meeting you. I believe we shall meet again.’
‘I look forward to it,’ I said. They rose and bowed and departed. Sergei returned from the bar. I could not help but notice he had only brought two drinks.
‘Interesting conversation?’ he asked.
‘Very,’ I said.
He smiled. ‘I thought it might be.’
I was summoned to see the inquisitor as soon as I returned to the palace. It was becoming quite a habit of his. His bodyguard escorted me to his door and checked me for weapons before allowing me to pass inside. That had not happened in a long time.
‘Good evening, Lemuel,’ he said. He was standing with his back to me, looking out the window. Across from us the coffin-black starscrapers limned the night, black flames dancing over them. I did not doubt he was aware of me. If he could not follow my reflection in the window, his strange psyker powers gave him other senses than those we mortals are stuck with.
‘You wished to see me, inquisitor,’ I said. He turned to face me. His cowl was down and his lean, pale face was underlit by the glow-globe on his desk. His features gave me no hint of what he was thinking. He moved to the desk, sat down in the floating chair, leaned forward and steepled his fingers. He looked at me over them as if sighting a gun. I could not help but notice that a bolt pistol sat on his desk, unholstered. It was a not very subtle message.