'For them and us,' Thalric mused. With Marger and Corolly off making arrangements with their hosts, Thalric had been left with the two other Wasps in Marger's team, a pair by the names of Vollen and Gram. Vollen was taller, thinner, and Thalric reckoned his role was the specialist sneak, perhaps even an assassin, whereas Gram, even out of uniform, looked every bit the professional soldier.
'I count four Beetles: two men, two women. There's a Flykinden there, too, and a couple of Ants,' Vollen went on.
'Ants? What city?'
Vollen shrugged. 'You should look yourself. You're the Lowlander expert, sir.'
I suppose I have no choice but to go to the window then. Thalric went over, displaced Vollen from his post, and looked down. He experienced an odd sense of trepidation as though he might fall. Everyday sounds reached him – cicadas out in the greenery, the clatter as Osgan organized their supplies and gave orders to the servants below – but it all seemed to come from very far away. He felt very detached, looking only at the knot of people assembled across the Place of Foreigners.
She was there, of course. Cheerwell Maker, I didn't think I'd see you again this soon, perhaps ever. She was wearing Mynan colours, which made no objective sense, but made sense to him. He would always associate her with that city.
Did I pay my debts, through what I did in Myna? He felt emotionally split, his mind running on different rails at the same time. Part of him was thinking of old Stenwold Maker, how he had sent his niece out into danger yet again. Did it mean that this mission of theirs was so important to the Lowlands that he had risked his own flesh and blood to guide it? He never would keep her safe; it was an odd blind spot to Stenwold. Ever since Thalric had known him he had been doing his best to get his family killed. On the other hand, perhaps Che had put herself forward, and if she had done so then all of Stenwold's careful attention would not have been able to stop her. Yes, that would be just like her.
He caught the thought, the slight smile, and killed it. Enough of that.
Underneath such personal considerations ran the professionaclass="underline" how to proceed now against the Lowlanders. Their hosts were playing games in this place, it was clear. The Empire and the Lowlands could spy on each other here without even going outside the door, while the Khanaphir could keep an eye on them both. 'Do you think we can infiltrate a spy amongst their servants?' he asked.
'I don't know the local character well enough,' Vollen replied. 'They seem poor, subservient. We should be able to corrupt one.'
Or perhaps they would simply expand their game, double our agent back on us, feed us false information. Thalric was a man used to finding his way around in strange cities, amongst strange people, but Khanaphes had yet to open up for him. There are important things that are kept hidden here. I can almost smell them.
'What city, sir?' Vollen asked him abruptly. Thalric blinked, losing the point of the question and then remembering. The Ant-kinden? He frowned when he looked to the two identical men standing a little apart from the rest.
'Vekken,' he declared, and ransacked his memory for news of Vek following the abortive siege of Collegium that he had been so instrumental in prompting. Had there not been some word of Vekken ambassadors in that city, since? He thought maybe there had, but why were they here?
Because whatever Che Maker was searching for in this place, it was important. Whether it was seeking an alliance or information or ancient buried treasure, the Vekken were obviously interested, perhaps even willing partners. That seemed next to impossible, considering the way they regarded Collegium, but if anyone could solder together that breach, then it would be Stenwold.
The Lowlanders were going in now. If their embassy was anything like the Empire's, they would find an embarrassment of riches and service to get used to, giving the Empire a day's clear start in keeping an eye on them. Thalric watched closely as Che herself went in, the others filing dutifully after her. She's definitely in charge, good for her. Only when she had gone from sight did he permit himself the liberty of the third line of thought that had been brewing. It was a notion that had sparked when he had seen her at the docks, having gone there to see who the Lowlands had sent. Having seen, he should have backed into the crowd: Gram had been plucking at his sleeve, but he had stood his ground, watching. Unprofessional, for a man of your experience. The answer to that question was there in plain sight, but he had avoided it, up until now.
You wanted her to know that you were here.
He tried to make some capital out of this action, for the Empire. Surely he could wrestle it around to benefit his mission. He felt Vollen watching him, and knew that he was not above reproach, here. Brugan probably told them to keep me on a careful leash.
'I recognized their leader,' he said lightly. 'An old acquaintance.'
'Sir.' Vollen's tone remained carefully neutral.
Thalric turned away from the window, putting himself out of sight of the building opposite. 'It gives us another option, in working out what they're after.'
Vollen nodded, waiting for enlightenment.
'I'll make contact,' Thalric declared, sounding very relaxed, almost flippant. 'Since they know the Empire's in the city, I'll think up some story and make contact. For old times' sake, you know.' What have you been told about me? he wondered, looking directly into Vollen's face. What have you been warned about?
Vollen appeared all business though. 'That would make sense,' he agreed. 'We can hardly keep avoiding each other, being lodged so close. We might as well have some formal contact, and it sounds as though this is why the General sent you along with us.' Thalric saw no hint of suspicion, nothing but a Rekef man mulling over a problem.
Is it quite so easy? Are my treasons forgotten? But that was the curse of running agents and spies, of course. Consider those men and women who spent their lives under false pretences, and how was their spymaster – how was anyone – to know their true nature? How, eventually, was even the spy himself to know where his loyalties lay? Pretend hard enough and it builds a shell of reality, as difficult to scrub off as barnacles from a boat. I remember learning that the hard way from my agents in Collegium. He felt a stab of regret at that, and shame at his own failure. They had been good Imperial agents until he had told them that Collegium must be destroyed, and it was then they had discovered that they were really citizens of Collegium, ready to fight him to protect their city. No one could have known that, until he had put them to the test.
And now I am put to the test, am I? Who would I betray, given the chance? Then a pang of self-pity: Is there anyone I would not?
'What do you make of this city, Vollen?'
The other man shook his head. 'Speaking frankly, sir, it's an armpit. You saw those fields on our way down the river. My people are farmers, back home. I know how it's done. We didn't spot a single automotive on the way in, nothing but a few watermills. They do everything by hand or by beast labour here. The guards don't even have a crossbow between them. If the Empire wanted this place, we could walk in tomorrow.'
'Just a primitive little backwater, then?'
'Exactly.' Vollen's expression precisely indicated a Rekef man who wanted to be elsewhere: this assignment was not, his face said, the stuff a career was made of. Thalric realized, with a stab of guilt, that the man was talking to him as one Rekef to another, without any of the reserve that had marked their journey so far. Vollen must have caught himself at the same time because he added, 'Sorry, sir, if I've been too blunt.'