‘I’ve heard something similar,’ Serrah added. ‘That came from seamen, too, and they’re usually a good source of information. When they’re sober. And back in Gath Tampoor my unit had a briefing on him.’
‘I’d be keen to hear about that.’
‘Don’t get too excited; it was pretty basic stuff. No more in it than you probably already know.’
‘I think I see where this is going, Karr,’ Caldason said. ‘You’re hoping to make this warlord your ally. An asset to the Resistance, like Founder magic.’
‘It’s crossed our minds. My enemy’s enemy and all that. But equally, we’d be concerned that Zerreiss might make an alliance with Gath Tampoor. An accommodation could suit both sides, and we’d have another force ranged against us.’
‘What’s to stop them doing the same with this Clepsydra thing and what you call the Source? They must have heard of them. Why haven’t they located them and turned Founder magic against the Resistance? Not to mention against Rintarah. Come to that, why hasn’t Rintarah tried finding them?’
‘We have no answer to those questions.’
‘An obvious one would be that these artifacts don’t exist and the empires know it.’
‘Or that they believe they’re just legends and haven’t bothered looking. Or they have searched and they’re just too hard to find. We still think there’s everything to play for, Reeth.’
‘Then the sooner you get me out there the better.’
‘We’ll be working on it, believe me. But you’re forgetting something. We’re putting ourselves out for you, so you could at least meet us halfway. Why not do the same as Serrah here, and Tanalvah, and join the Resistance formally? I know you wanted to think on it, but really, what’s there to think about?’
Caldason looked from one face to another, lingering just a little longer on the impassive Serrah.
‘All right,’ he said.
Taken aback by Reeth’s sudden change of mind, Kutch exclaimed, ‘Don’t forget me!’
‘Excellent,’ Karr enthused. ‘You can both have your own impromptu swearing-in ceremony, right here.’
‘Just make good use of me,’ Caldason told him. ‘I’m growing bored with inaction.’
‘Don’t worry about that. You’re going to be earning your keep from now on, believe me.’
Caldason was only half listening. His attention was on the inscrutable expression Serrah wore.
21
A lot happened in the course of the next few days.
The social gathering Kinsel Rukanis attended passed without incident. But it was disappointing in intelligence terms. He learnt almost nothing about the supposed trading mission to the north, except that it was due to depart in a matter of weeks.
Nobody was greatly surprised when Kinsel and Tanalvah Lahn set up home together, living with Teg and Lirrin as a family.
Kutch began his training as a spotter, supervised by Phoenix himself. It proved harder than he expected, leaving him exhausted after most sessions and sometimes uncharacteristically fractious.
There was a riot in one of Valdarr’s poorest quarters, sparked by a dispute over the provision of clean drinking water. The authorities’ heavy-handed response left eleven dead and an uncounted number of injured. Somebody burnt down a militia staging-post later the same day, bringing more reprisals.
A small group of insurgents, using a customised bootleg enchantment, managed to conjure an enormous flying pig. Hovering above the city, it spewed a multicoloured alphabet that arranged itself into a coarse limerick featuring a local official. Sorcerers had to be brought in to neutralise the pig with anti-glamour bolts. But not before the anatomically impossible feat described in the limerick had amused a wide swathe of the population.
An obscure member of the Bhealfan royal family was attacked in the street by a man with a grievance. The man was downed by bodyguards wielding glamoured shock sticks.
A district organiser with the Resistance disappeared, presumed captured or dead, and there was talk of betrayal. A mid-ranking military chief was assassinated on his own doorstep by an archer hiding on a rooftop opposite. A magical brawl between groups of licensed and unlicensed sorcerers started a fire that gutted half a dozen riverside houses and an inn.
And Reeth Caldason and Serrah Ardacris prepared to commit a robbery.
The United Revolutionary Council had ordered the formation of a special operations unit, similar to the one Serrah had commanded in Merakasa. But Serrah wasn’t made its leader. That role was pressed on a reluctant Caldason, for reasons best known to the council. If Serrah resented demotion to second-in-command, she didn’t show it. Perhaps because she allowed herself to reveal little in the way of emotions. Or because, in practice, she and Caldason led the group jointly.
Beneath them in the band’s command structure were two ‘subalterns’, with eight ‘privates’ forming the pyramid’s base. Half the membership was drawn from the ranks of the Resistance. The other half came from the Fellowship of the Righteous Blade, hand-picked by Quinn Disgleirio. All were seasoned fighters. But the unit lacked a thirteenth member, due to the scarcity of combat sorcerers.
At the end of a hard day’s training in a small wood beyond the city limits, Reeth and Serrah were summoned to Karr’s hideaway. No one else was present at the meeting. It took place in a cellar whose entrance was concealed by a glamour that mimicked a solid wall. Used for planning and briefing sessions, the cellar was brightly lit and well appointed.
They sat at one of several large benches, taking refreshments. For Serrah and Caldason, who shared frugal appetites, that meant light fare and plain water. Karr allowed himself a goblet of diluted brandy.
He swallowed a mouthful and said, ‘Is everything going well with the band?’
‘Seems to be,’ Caldason replied. ‘They work together and take orders. No problems so far.’
‘You being a Qalochian isn’t an issue? I should hope it isn’t, of course, but prejudice can exist even in our ranks.’
‘No more an issue than Serrah being a Gath Tampoorian, I’d say.’
‘Good. So, you think the band’s ready to be put to the test?’
‘Ready as it’ll ever be.’
‘Serrah?’
She nodded. Her eyes were less hollow, there was more colour in her face. Rest, nourishment and having a purpose had begun to revive her. ‘Ready and eager. Particularly if there’s a chance of doing some damage to my old masters.’
‘Then I think you’ll approve of what we have in mind.’ Karr took another drink. ‘It’s no secret that one of the ways we finance ourselves is through stealing. Not from the common people, of course. We take from the masters, the imperialists who squeeze their vassals dry. You might call it ethical robbery. It’s something of that kind I’m proposing for your unit.’
‘A politician involved in criminal enterprises?’ Caldason gently mocked. ‘Whatever next?’
Karr laughed. ‘Does beggar belief, doesn’t it?’ More soberly, he added, ‘But there’s a real contradiction, of course. No decent public servant should be forced into illegality, no matter how deserving the cause. There comes a time when the disparities are too difficult to balance. I think that’s where I am now.’
‘What are you going to do about it?’ Serrah asked.
‘The day’s close when I’m going to have to give up so-called legitimate politics. To do what I urged Kinsel to do and get out. Things have gone too far for lawful opposition to make much difference now. Direct action’s the only path I can see.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve stuck it out this long,’ Caldason said.
‘You hold on to your illusions, you know? Once, politics seemed to make a difference. Somehow you lose sight of the fact that it doesn’t anymore. You don’t see the piecrust promises and downright lies, and go on believing that the platitudes matter.’