life,’ she
said.
‘Sure, you’ll come round
to it,’ Balkus told her. ‘Now for me, I’ll stay right here and look after the
chief. That sound like a good plan? I’m a handy fellow to have around.’
‘Might not be a bad
idea,’ Scuto agreed. Stenwold looked from him to Balkus and back again.
‘I’m going to have
Tisamon and Tynisa right here should I need them, but . . . fair enough.
Another pair of hands and eyes won’t go amiss.’ He looked over at his niece and
her lover. ‘Che and Achaeos, you’re going to Sarn as well, but for different
reasons.’
Che put on a stern
expression. ‘You wouldn’t be trying to keep me safe again, would you? Because
that didn’t work so well the last time you tried it.’
Stenwold’s smile was
bleak. ‘The Wasps are invading the Lowlands, niece, so there isn’t anywhere
that’s safe any more. Scuto and I operated out of Sarn for a while, way back,
and we had some unlikely misadventures that owed nothing to the Empire.
Specifically, we had a fairly heated run-in with a band of fellows called the
Arcanum.’
Achaeos hissed at the
word. ‘What kind of run-in?’ he demanded.
‘They fought with us at
Helleron, didn’t they?’ asked Che. ‘They’re the Moth army or something?’
‘A secret society of
sorts,’ Stenwold explained. ‘But mostly they’re spies and agents for Achaeos’s
people. All a misunderstanding, the trouble we had then, but it’s left us
knowing a little about them that should be useful. Between what Scuto can
furnish you with and the fact of having Achaeos on our side, I think we can
hope to make contact.’
‘You want us to convince the Arcanum to fight on our side?’ Achaeos
asked, in a tone of voice that suggested it could not be done.
‘I want you to do
whatever you can. Your people in Dorax have been left alone more than those in
your own city, and that makes them, I think, less leery of outsiders,’ Stenwold
said. ‘We still get a steady trickle of them at the College, at least, and they
send the odd ambassador to Sarn. I’m hoping that they will at least consider
lending us some aid. I know we can’t expect armies from them, but even a little
information would be useful. Will you do it?’
Achaeos looked to Che.
‘And you?’
‘I’ll do whatever I have
to,’ she said. ‘I’ve met with your people before. These Arcanum can’t be worse
than the Skryres at Tharn.’
His face wrinkled at
that reference, but he turned back to Stenwold. ‘I cannot promise anything, but
what can be done will be done.’
Stenwold had chosen that
same taverna because it had possessed an underground exit leading to the river,
from way back when the temperance drive was running riot in the Assembly and
the wine-duty had been sky-high. He now watched Scuto and Che, Achaeos and
Sperra disappearing down it, to make their way to the rail station as swiftly
as possible. At the same time another man of his, dressed in a spiky wooden
harness and swathed in a cloak, would be poking about the automotive works
located along the Foundry West Way. Stenwold and Scuto had discovered a long
time ago that difference could provide a disguise in itself if, like Scuto, you
were so different that the difference was all people saw.
Tisamon and Tynisa would
be back at the College by now, unaware that the wheels of the plan were turning
already. He had lied to Che in the taverna’s back room. Sarn was by no means
safe, but he had a feeling it would be safer than Collegium over these next few
days. He would get to see the Assembly sooner or later, and put his case to
them, though the Wasps no doubt had men bribed there to speak against him. At
this late hour nobody could predict whether the old men and women of Collegium
might recover the wisdom of their predecessors. For this reason, he knew, the
Wasps would be looking to stop him making his speech.
With Balkus lumbering
behind him he set off back for the College. The big Ant was something of a
mystery to
Learning to Kill: Stories