I stood silently, thinking. It didn’t take long to put the pieces together. “You knew already, didn’t you?”
Talisid hesitated for just an instant, which was all the answer I needed. “You know I can’t discuss—” Talisid began.
“Talisid,” I said wearily.
“We’ve had reports,” Talisid said. “From various sources, but they all mention the War Rooms, and they all give the time as tomorrow night. The Senior Council is in closed session to discuss it now.”
“They didn’t invite Morden? I’m shocked.”
“But you are the only person to have heard it from Morden directly,” Talisid said. “Until now, we didn’t have any substantive evidence against him. If you can testify to what you’ve heard, then it may be enough to tie Morden to the attack and bring him down once and for all.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t get too ahead of yourselves. We still don’t know if it’s the War Rooms he’s attacking.”
“I assure you, that concern has been raised.”
“So are you going to tell them?”
“Yes,” Talisid said. “However . . .”
“However?”
“I can’t speak for them,” Talisid said. “But I would prepare yourself for the possibility that you may be asked to join Morden’s attack regardless.”
“Fuck that.”
“If you don’t, it could tip him off—”
“If I do, I’ll have the Council shooting me from one side and Morden’s lot shooting me from the other. No way in hell.”
“The Council will be very grateful.”
I told Talisid exactly what the Council could do with their gratitude.
“Verus,” Talisid said. He sounded slightly shocked.
“You seriously think that after everything they’ve done to me, I’m going to do the Council favours?” I said. “Answer is no.”
Talisid was silent for a second. “What if I could offer you something in exchange?”
“Like what?”
“The lifting of your death sentence.”
That shut me up.
“I can’t promise anything,” Talisid said. “However . . . given the circumstances, I think they would be willing to consider it.”
“Are they really that scared?” I asked. “Enough that they’re willing to overrule a resolution just to have me as an inside man?”
“As I said, I can’t promise anything,” Talisid said. “But it’s a realistic possibility.”
I thought fast. My first instinct was to take the deal. But another voice spoke up: if they’re willing to give this much, maybe you could get more. “I want the death sentence revoked,” I said. “Both for me and for Anne. And I don’t want it to be conditional on the accuracy of my information, either. Everything I’ve told you has been in good faith, but I’ve got no guarantee that Morden was telling the truth. Even if the attack doesn’t go through, the sentence is still gone.”
“That may be difficult to sell.”
“Deal with it. Oh, and one more thing. If I’m going to be testifying against Morden, I also want a full pardon for anything I do during the attack tomorrow, as well as retroactively for all the time I’ve been working as Morden’s aide. Take it or leave it.”
Talisid was silent. “Well,” he said at last. “They won’t be happy, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll contact the Council immediately and I’ll call you back as soon as I hear anything.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
chapter 15
Talisid was as good as his word. I’d expected to be left hanging all night, but he called me back barely an hour later. “The Council have agreed to your offer,” Talisid said, “but with conditions.”
“Okay.”
“The Council will lift the death sentence on you and Anne Walker,” Talisid said. “In exchange you will both accompany Morden’s team on whatever mission they order. You will be exempt from any criminal charges for any actions you take during this operation and during your past tenure as Morden’s aide, providing you can demonstrate that you performed those actions under duress. In exchange, the two of you will both cooperate fully with any criminal case brought against Morden, including testifying against him. If you don’t, the deal is off.”
It was more than I’d dared hope for. “How exactly did they get Levistus to agree to that?”
“Levistus was . . . not happy,” Talisid said dryly. “Neither was Sal Sarque. However, Bahamus and Druss voted in your favour, and Alma and Undaaris were sufficiently convinced by the urgency of the situation. The final vote was four to two.”
“In other words, they were afraid that their own necks might actually be on the line,” I said. The fear Morden had stirred up was working to my advantage. “Undaaris voted for me?”
“Yes.”
So after being bribed by Levistus last year to betray me, Undaaris had turned around and betrayed Levistus right back. There was a certain justice to it. “Agreed,” I said.
“All right,” Talisid said. “You and Anne are to meet with Morden and—”
“Not so fast,” I said. “Let’s have it in writing.”
Talisid paused. “Now?”
“No time like the present.”
“The Council are more than a little busy—”
“Talisid, maybe you don’t remember, but this isn’t the first time I’ve made a deal with a Council member,” I said. “I’m done with working on credit. I get my payment in advance or I don’t do it at all.”
“That . . . may take some time.”
I sat back, putting my hands behind my head. “I’ll wait.”
| | | | | | | | |
There was more negotiation, but I held firm and to my amazement, the Council actually went through with it. By the next morning, I was holding a piece of paper in my hands with the Council seal stipulating that should I follow the terms listed below, et cetera, et cetera, the outlaw status for myself and my dependents, to wit, Anne Walker, was annulled.
“I hope you realise how rare this is,” Talisid said dryly.
I gave a short laugh. “Realising isn’t exactly top of my thoughts right now.”
“What is?”
I was silent for a moment, weighing the piece of paper in my hands. It was thick and stiff, with only a little flex. One small sheet of paper, with maybe a couple of hundred printed words. “It was a resolution like this that got Anne and me outlawed last Christmas,” I said quietly. “One sheet of paper. That was all it took to drive us out of Britain and have us hunted across the world.”
“Yes . . .”
“And now another sheet of paper, and it’s all whisked away.” I looked at the communicator, even though I knew Talisid couldn’t see me. “You could have done this at any time.”
“The decision wasn’t—”
“I know it wasn’t yours,” I said. “It was the Council’s. From that chamber in the War Rooms, they make their laws, and everyone else lives or dies by them. It would have been five minutes’ work for them to end our exile. They didn’t. That’s how much we mean to them.”
I heard Talisid shift. “The situations have changed somewhat . . .”
“Yeah,” I said. “This time I’ve got something they want. Don’t worry, Talisid. I’m not going to do anything stupid. But I think I understand how Council politics work a little better now.”
Talisid didn’t have an answer to that. “Are you going to be ready?” he said at last.
“I’ll be in touch.”
We finished our conversation and I sat silent for a moment. I knew I should be happy—this death mark had been hanging over my head for so long—but it was hard not to be bitter. All that pain and hardship, and the Council had wiped it away almost absentmindedly. This was how quickly they could have done something if they’d actually cared.