War Master's Gate (65 page)

Again that arch amusement:
Very well
. And abruptly Che found the path between them laid out plainly, skirting all of Argastos’s tricks and sleights of hand.

The landscape around them remained uncertain of precisely what it was supposed to be, from blurred impressions of forest to caverns to occasional suggestions of the metal-walled maze, but Che
found she could ignore it, simple force of will driving it away from her. Maure walked almost in her shadow, one hand resting on her shoulder.

And, in so few steps, she found herself face to face with Seda.

In her mind the Empress of the Wasps had become a monster, ten feet tall and dripping with blood, inhuman and ravening, evil written in every feature of her. It was hard, then, to remember that
here was the outward truth: this slender Wasp girl, younger even than Che, with her pale skin and golden hair. The power that stirred within her was the sibling to Che’s own and, when they
met there – their first physical meeting, and in such a place – the world around them seemed to shudder for a moment, as at the tolling of a huge but silent bell.

Che heard Maure’s sucked-in breath, and she wondered if, all over the Lowlands, magicians were twitching awake with a start, or crying out in their dreams.
But surely we are not so
important, she and I? How much does the mark of Khanaphes count for?

‘Che!’

Then Thalric was there, coming close but stopping out of reach, his eyes flicking between Che and Seda. And Che began to go to him, to throw her arms about him for the simple joy of seeing him
alive, but there was an abrupt crackling sense of chill from Seda, and she held back.

But of course.
She had forgotten that Thalric had been Seda’s once. Che had pushed that knowledge right out of her mind. It hurt a great deal, she discovered, to be reminded.

And if I press matters now . . . if I call Thalric and demand that he comes to me?
Then, she guessed, her truce with Seda might be broken sooner than either of them was ready for,
because she could sense it there – the tie between the Empress and her former consort – not a bond of love, she told herself, but one of presumed ownership.

‘Where is Tynisa?’ she asked, because she had to say
something
to kill the tension. Her eyes sought Thalric’s and found his gaze evasive.
What were they doing
together, before I arrived? How long . . .?
She repressed the thought.

‘With Tisamon,’ Seda declared.

Che’s stomach lurched. ‘Then—’

‘Yes. And I can stop him, but not her. Between us we must separate them. We may need them against Argastos and his minions.’

Tynisa fought, and the fight had no beginning and no end.

She fought in the sewers beneath Myna. She fought in the Prowess Forum of Collegium. She fought in the Commonweal. She fought in the forest of the Nethyen. One fight spread over the years, as
she tried to escape from the shadow of her father.

He was faster than her, but not by so much as he once had been. Death had dulled him a little, whilst her life had only sharpened her. She had learned new tricks that he had not taught her:
every fight that she had entered into since his death had honed her, whilst he had remained the same broken thing he had always been.

In this dim no-place they dodged and cut, rapier against claw, a constant negotiation of reach and distance. She danced with him, Weaponsmaster to Weaponsmaster. Part of her mind was roiling
with the need to destroy him, for the abomination he was; to strike down the insult to the man he had been, but there was more than that. No matter what he had become, what manner of revenant the
Empress had raised from his memory, her blade and the mystery of her order knew that the fight itself was pure. This was the fight her life had been leading up to – and the fact that she and
Tisamon had been allies, before the man’s death, had been only a temporary diversion.

No matter that she hated what he was, part of her exulted in fighting him again at last.

And sometimes he struck the death blow, and sometimes, less frequently, she did, but those strikes never landed, and they found themselves apart again, blade-tip to blade-tip . . . and then
began again. Over and over, they began.

How long they had been fighting, Tynisa could not know. She was living in the eternal present, moment by moment ticking by and yet the clock standing still.

When something changed, and when the voice came, she resisted hearing it, so perfect was this instant she was living in. She stepped through her paces, her rapier a blur as it fended off
Tisamon’s strikes and made its own inroads into his defence. But, at last, the demands became too insistent to ignore.

Tynisa!
Che’s voice was an unwelcome reminder that there was more to life than this.

Stop this! You have to stop fighting!

The concept seemed utterly alien to her, and she shrugged it off, but Che was insistent.

Tynisa, Seda is going to rein in Tisamon, but only if you yourself stop. This is pointless. We have more important problems right now.

For a moment, Tynisa lost her rhythm, and a scything sweep of Tisamon’s claw nearly killed her, but she ceded three paces and repaired her defence.

Tynisa—

Go away, Che
. And Tynisa applied herself utterly to the duel.

She sensed her foster-sister’s abrupt frustration with her, which might once have been a source only of amusement, but now there was a great power building behind it, a wave of influence
that increased and increased until all that Tynisa represented, her badge, her sword, her whole being, was tiny in comparison.

‘No!’ she cried out, and heard,
I’m sorry
, in reply. And then the great fist of Che’s strength descended and clasped itself about her, locking her rigid, every
limb frozen.

She had a moment of staring into Tisamon’s helm, that dark, half-seen face that was so familiar, and she tried to brace herself for the death strike . . . but she could not even do
that.

Then he had frozen as well, his blade already halfway towards her, and a moment later they were not alone: Che, Thalric, Maure . . . and there too was Seda, whom Tynisa had seen in Capitas only
the once, on the day that her father had died.

The grip left her, and she dropped to her knees with a curse.

‘I’m sorry,’ Che repeated, as Tisamon stalked stiffly over to Seda’s side.

Tynisa glowered up at Che. ‘If you
ever
do that to me again, I swear . . .’ But she was not sure what she could swear to, considering the sheer strength of the girl, the
utter reversal of their roles. For the first time in her life, Tynisa suddenly felt ignorant and useless compared to whatever it was that Che had access to.
And is that the way that she had
always felt, before?

She got to her feet, sword already home in its sheath. ‘What now?’

‘Now?’ And they all spun about at this unexpected intrusion. He stood there in his chitin scale mail, shoulders broad beneath his open grey robe, and his winged helm under his arm:
Argastos the warlord, the Moth who went to war. ‘Now you shall come with me as my guests,’ his rich voice resonated. ‘We have much to talk about.’

That next morning, word had been sent to every Assembler remaining in Collegium. College Masters, merchant magnates, the great and the good who had not left the city or died in
the fighting were all visited at the stroke of dawn. To avoid any unfortunate shooting of messengers, Helmess had used the Collegiate Guild to carry his instructions, demonstrating that business as
usual, in some small way, was still the order of the day.

The message itself was simple. The Collegiate Assembly was still very much in existence, and a full gathering of its members would be held later that morning. Attendance was mandatory. Collegium
had passed through a time of turmoil and needed the help of all of its leaders to regain its feet, and anyone who felt that they had better things to do would be noted in their absence.

Turnout was impressive, certainly more so than the last two emergency Assemblies presided over by the late Jodry Drillen.

They met in the same ruins as before, in the harsh light of the early morning, and Helmess marvelled at the discipline of it – all those men and women, brought here by their learning,
their wealth, their power, and where were the divisions, where the mutterings, the heckling, the unseemly jokes? Where were those who merely came to snore through the speeches, or to conduct
private business while matters of state were discussed? Every eye was upon him, rapt with attention.

Although, he had to admit, most eyes did tend to twitch to the three score Wasp soldiers that had dropped down to form a loose perimeter about the proceedings.

‘My friends,’ he addressed their silence. ‘Thank you for answering the call of your city in its time of need.’ He had a scroll in one hand, which was unfurled almost down
to his knees, and, as he spoke, his eyes flicked over the Assemblers and he marked off name after name. ‘I had thought of taking roll call, as they do in the College,’ he explained with
a self-deprecating smile, ‘but that would not be becoming of the dignity of our body. Still, no hiding at the back, there. It would be tragic if I was to overlook any of you, after
all.’ He permitted himself a little frown, knowing that his audience was hanging on the very minutiae of his expression. ‘Still a few absentees, I see. Ah well.’

There was a slow building of murmured discontent, as he had expected. ‘Masters, the world around us has changed, but this our city – and our Assembly – do not need to change so
much as you might think. The Empire, whose borders now encompass Collegium, need not be such a harsh master as you might imagine. After all, we have resisted them, fought them with all our
misguided strength, and still they have agreed that our Assembly shall remain – properly supervised of course – and I think you will find that, with a little adjustment, our citizens
will hardly notice that there is a black and gold flag where once there was none. I . . . yes?’

For someone had stood up, a burly, heavy-set man that it took Helmess a moment to identify as one of the airship magnates. Helmess ticked his name off meticulously as the man clenched his fists
and took a deep breath.

‘I don’t know where you yourself spent the evening, Master Broiler, but I think our citizens are well bloody aware that your Wasp friends are here, because they were surely helping
themselves to every cursed thing in the city last night. Two of my clerks are gone this morning: one because the fool went out after this “curfew” and the other because she . . .
because one of your
friends
decided that she was . . . that she was worth a moment of his time, and no more. And you say that everything’s just rolling along like normal, do you? You
think our folk will just play along? If this Assembly still exists, then what is it going to
do
about it, eh?’

‘Why, Master Parrymill,’ Helmess snapped back, with a sideways glance towards the soldiers that nobody missed – and abruptly the airship magnate’s voice stuttered to a
halt. Helmess smiled. ‘What a pertinent question,’ he added cordially. The soldiers did not descend on Parrymill and bundle him away there and then, but suddenly their loosely spaced
cordon seemed like the walls of a prison, and the outspoken Assembler sat down heavily, his face turning grey.

‘I should take steps right now to correct what may be a fundamental misapprehension,’ Helmess went on. ‘This Assembly is convened not to
complain
or
object
.
We are not here to plot against the Empire, or to work against its laws. We have a simple function, Masters. We are here to make the Empress’s will a reality as simply as possible. Because
what the Empire wishes
will
happen, make no mistake, and how much better for Collegium that it happens through our own mediation? The Empire will have its commands carried out in the most
efficient way, Masters, and if you wish to spare our citizens the rod, then you must ensure that any leniency also serves that same efficiency. I know that all of us will have to make adjustments.
Some of you may find it difficult to grasp your new role. You may find it harsh, restricting, even oppressive.’ He gave them a moment to decide that this was indeed so. ‘But I put to
you one inarguable point: last night was
nothing.
Last night was the soldiers of the Second and their allies being given their just rewards for all we put them through on the way to our
city. Did you think we could kill their friends, bomb them, starve them, and they would act like genial College tutors once they closed our gates behind them? No, Masters, they are soldiers, and
they were owed their due reward. But believe me, General Tynan has kept them on a tight rein. The sergeants of the Second have been on watch to ensure that indulgence has not become excess.
Consider how few buildings burned, how few deaths there actually were, and even rape in moderation. Believe me, Masters, it could all have been so much
worse.
We truly are blessed in the
enlightened attitudes of our conquerors.’

They stared at him, some still defiant, others simply appalled, or else bewildered as though they could not have heard him correctly. A fair proportion, though, would not meet his eyes, and he
counted them as the ones who had already accepted the logic of his words.

‘And there will be benefits. We all recall the endless infighting, the factions, the timewasting speeches of our august body here. Yes, you all complained about it, just as much as you
contributed to it. It’s amazing we accomplished anything at all. But now, Masters, if we want a crime punished, a law made iron, we need only submit our request to the Imperial governor, and
it shall happen. Our government will be given the firm hand it has always lacked. We shall go forward in partnership with the Wasp-kinden, and they shall profit from our wisdom, we from their
strength.’

And he gave them his best smile, and knew that some, at least, would already be thinking about how this situation could be used to personal advantage. And it would be they who prospered, whilst
anyone trying to hold on to what the Assembly had once represented would fall, and probably sooner rather than later.