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“Or a Caucus apparently. What is that exactly? I would have thought the Tower Commanders convened with the Emperor regularly. Or at least not so irregularly it would raise eyebrows when it happened. But this isn’t that, is it? What’s happening?”

“Towers operate real independent, most of the time. Twice a year they get together, regular like you said. But a Caucus is something else. Only the Emperor can call for one. All the Tower Commanders have to be present unless they’re dead or dying. Them and their captains and chief officers. Failure to show is treason.”

I understood Soffjian’s urgency a little more in herding us here-clearly she knew or guessed what was going on. We started down the stairs. “So if we hadn’t made it back in time…?”

Vendurro was taking the stairs two at a time. “Awww, no. They wouldn’t have hunted us down or nothing. Cap’s a big man, for certain, but no Tower Commander. But it would have looked mighty queer, just the same. A Memoridon comes calling and cracking the whip, Syldoon best kick the spurs in. Especially if it smells like the summons is coming from the Emperor, not the Tower Commander hisself.”

“Can I ask you something, Vendurro?”

He led me down a hall. “Course you can. If you don’t mind much whether I answer or not.”

“Are you worried about the Caucus? Sounds like something we should be worried about. Only you didn’t seem particularly bothered.”

“‘We’ is it?” He stopped and looked at me, gave a half-smile.

“Well, I might never be a Syldoon. As Mulldoos pointed out, clearly I am not cut out for it. But my lot is tied to the captain’s, all of yours, as far as that goes. So, I suppose-”

“Only teasing you, bookmaster.” I relaxed as he said, “Caucuses, Emperors, Tower Commanders, that’s all above me. I’m just a soldier.” He pointed up at the corbelled hall ceiling. “Leave all that for them to figure out. I just do my job, best as I can. I trust Cap and Hew and Mull to do right by me and the other boys.”

We turned a corner, passing a Syldoon slave girl who gave me a queer look. “I’ve heard Thumaar’s name a few times now. He was the deposed emperor, wasn’t he?”

“Was indeed. Capital of Coups.”

“But not killed?”

“Nope, Thumaar’s alive and kicking. And like most that been on a throne and lost it, itching mighty fierce to reclaim it.”

I supposed most deposed rulers would be, but still asked, “How do you know that for certain?”

“Oh, Jackal Tower is trying to help him do it.”

He said it so nonchalantly, it took me a moment to register the enormity packed into such a small phrase. “You what?!” I nearly shouted, and then quieted myself and tried it again. “You’re trying to reinstate him?”

“Ayyup. We’re Thumaar’s men. Some other Towers feel the same. Thumaar was twice the emperor Cynead is. Quick to a flask, a laugh, or revenge, he was. A hard man, but fair. We can get him back where he belongs, we will.”

I looked up and down the hall, wondering if he should be proclaiming open treason so unabashedly.

“Oh, we’re among Jackals here, Arki. Out there, we bite our tongues and smile pretty and salute proper, but every man here will piss on Cynead’s corpse if we get half a chance.”

“But… but aren’t you worried about the Caucus and what it might mean, then? What if Cynead has gotten word that you are working against him?”

“Like I said-bigger problems for bigger men. We oust Cynead, or we die trying. It works out, or it doesn’t. Truth be told, I’m a lot more bothered by what I got to do on the morrow than any Caucus the day after.”

I thought about it, trying to puzzle out his meaning, when I recalled what the Tower Commander had said and remembered that losing a comrade wasn’t the end of things. At least not for Vendurro. “So, you’re going to see the widow tomorrow then?”

Vendurro looked at his feet, rubbed the back of his head vigorously. “I should go today. Still got a little sun yet. And tomorrow won’t be no better. Might even be worse, when it comes to it. But I ain’t seen my Towermates in a long time. Right now, I’m fixing to go see my brothers, drink too much, and lose more coin than I can afford.” He looked up quickly. “Don’t worry none, though. I’ll keep the widowcoin in a separate purse. I might make a woman weep and slap me tomorrow, but I’ll be thrice damned if I don’t at least offer her her due. Knowing Mervulla, she’ll throw it in my face. Before or after trying to rake my eyes out. Proud woman, and angry more often than not. Could be next time you see me, I’ll have a patch. Maybe two, blinder than those poor Hornmen bastards.”

He was trying to make light, but it was obviously forced.

“I can still come with you. If you like. If it makes it any less, well, if it makes it more bearable. Easier.”

Vendurro stopped in front of a door, took a deep breath. “That’s good of you, Arki. Mighty good. And it means a lot. But Commander Darzaak was cracking the whip on getting through the rest of those scrolls and whatnot. Wouldn’t want to take you away from that.”

I nodded, feeling relieved, as it was likely to be an intimate meeting and I would only be an intruder, but also guilty, as it was clear Vendurro was shouldering a burden. “I’m sure I can spare a little time. It’s not like we have to travel back to Alespell to see her, right?”

Vendurro puffed out his cheeks, then exhaled slowly. “Wishing I could let you. But this is something I got to see through myself. My duty to do. Still, means more than I can say you offering like that.” He checked the door, found it unlocked, and pushed it in. “Looks like the steward got here first. You’ll be bunking in Cap’s spare room. No telling if they dusted it or not, but other than being locked up for a few years, ought to be fine.”

I stood there, satchel and writing case tucked in my arms. “What about you and the lieutenants?”

“Oh, Mull and Hew got their own quarters, being officers and all.”

“But you’re an officer too, aren’t you?”

“Only difference between me and the other men is I got to suffer through more of their gripes and bellyaching. And occasionally repeat the Cap’s orders if they’re moving slow. Sergeant’s a glorified grunt. I got my own room, true enough, but it’s in the barracks with my brothers. All for the best. Easier to stumble in after swallowing a gallon or three of ale or sour wine. Fewer stairs.”

He took a step back, looking ready to go. I glanced at the empty room ahead and had the uncomfortable sense that I was once again on a precipice. Every time I felt as if I had discovered the worst about what might happen accompanying the Syldoon, I learned some new horrible wrinkle-secretly supporting the deposed Emperor while plotting against the new one?

Vendurro must have seen my face and asked, “You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you? Meet the mates, share some ale?”

I nearly said yes-it seemed a brighter prospect than being alone in a dusty room. But I was made for dusty rooms. And I didn’t imagine the other Syldoon soldiers would be any more receptive to sharing a flagon with me than Braylar’s immediate retinue would.

I shook my head, and Vendurro nodded. “Be seeing you then, Arki.”

“Night.”

I watched him head back down the hallway, not envying his task on the morrow, but jealous he would have old friends to take his mind off it tonight, and almost called out and asked him to wait for me to join him.

Almost.

Captain Killcoin’s quarters were spacious, and he was lucky enough to have several arched windows along one wall. I looked out and saw all of Sunwrack spread out in front of me. Even several floors from the roof of the Tower, the view was amazing-the orderly grid-like streets and alleys running off in every direction; the vast plazas teeming with colorful crowds, shimmying, shifting; fountains filled with water from the aqueduct alongside gated gardens of fig and date and those peculiar trees that homed the steel moths; temples of every size, sometimes crowned with bulbous domes or topped with achingly thin minarets painted in black and white bands; crumbling facades and ancient arches everywhere; the brass roofs reflecting the last of the sunlight, the whole city ablaze. And of course the colossal walls and Towers surrounding the vast city-a ring of castles and keeps girding the heart of the Empire.