Inaspe Raimm lowered her gaze. ‘You do not understand. We cannot do as you ask. It is impossible.’
Stenwold made sounds that he could not force into words. At last he said, ‘But… even a modest force?’
‘We cannot retake the lost Principalities,’ she said, simply. ‘The reason is very clear: we have signed the Treaty of Pearl. Those lands were ceded to the Empire.’
Stenwold felt his mouth fall open, staring. ‘But they forced you to sign that treaty. You cannot have signed it willingly. Twelve years of war…’
‘I signed the Treaty of Pearl,’ she told him, and the hint of emphasis in her voice silenced him. ‘It is a shame that I myself shall continue to bear, and pass on to each monarch that succeeds me. True, we were dragged to it through a sea of our people’s blood. True it was a device of the Empire that they themselves would not pause for a moment before breaking. But that is not material.’
‘I don’t understand…’ he began.
‘Then I am sorry. Perhaps the Wasps did not understand either, when they bound us to the treaty, but I am the Monarch, and therefore responsible for all my people. The whole of my kinden have pledged themselves, through me. It was an oath, a promise made by the Commonweal entire. So we can never march upon those lost lands. We cannot go against our own soul. We cannot go to war with the Empire to aid you, though we would dearly wish to. Our word is final.’
‘Oh…’ Stenwold said weakly, feeling as though she had just stabbed him through the gut. ‘Oh…’ All this way, through storm and bandits, and for nothing. Losing Felise, losing Destrachis, and all for nothing.
‘The Wasps will tear that paper up as soon as they are done with us,’ he protested hoarsely.
‘It seems likely,’ the Monarch agreed sadly. ‘Until they do, we remain bound by it. I am sorry that we cannot help you, Stenwold Maker. Your need is great and you are deserving. Perhaps some escort could travel with you back to your lands, to safeguard you.’
‘A Lorn detachment,’ Stenwold said, although they would not recognize the term. All hope was leaking out from him like life’s blood.
To stand so fast by a meaningless treaty. The Wasps truly cannot have known what they were winning, through that one piece of paper.
And then a thought: the Wasps will still be ignorant of what they have gained.
‘I… have an idea, O Monarch,’ he said slowly.
‘Speak, Stenwold Maker.’
‘Sleight of hand, Monarch. Shadows and illusions. Spider games. You are not without such resources, here in the Commonweal?’
A few knowing looks around them. ‘Indeed we are not,’ Inaspe Raimm replied.
‘Then…’ This time he ordered the words carefully before he uttered them. ‘If a force was to mass… close to the borders of the stolen principalities. An army of soldiers, beasts…’ He had nearly added engines, war machines. ‘All the business of war, in fact. The treaty makes no mention of that, I am sure.’
She regarded him, but he thought he saw a slight smile of comprehension there.
‘A Commonweal army on the border, O Monarch,’ Stenwold continued. ‘That is surely the current nightmare of the Empire, the Dragonflies returning for their lands. They cannot know, they do not know, that you will still honour your word. It would never occur to them, who would break their own so readily. Is that possible, O Monarch?’
Inaspe Raimm looked past him to encounter the gaze of Felipe Shah. When she met Stenwold’s gaze again, she was nodding. ‘It is possible,’ she said. ‘It might indeed be accomplished.’
Fifteen
Hokiak had kept her in a cellar for what had felt like an age, but was probably only a couple of hours. Che had thought, Again! Again in someone’s cell. At the time she had not believed his claims. She had assumed that he would hand her over to the Empire, or perhaps simply to the highest bidder.
She hoped Thalric had got away, at least. It was a strange thing to wish for, considering her own extremity. She had no illusions that he might come back for her.
Then she was dragged up into the old Scorpion’s back room again, hauled into the lamplight and cuffed sharply when she stumbled. Hokiak was waiting there for her, leaning on his stick.
‘As promised,’ he said. His clients were all cloaked but, on peering up at them, she found herself looking into blue-grey Mynan faces.
‘Please…’ she said. ‘Help me-’
Without otherwise showing any particular acrimony, one of them kicked her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she choked and gasped around the pain, the other handed a pouch to Hokiak.
‘Compliments of the Red Flag,’ she heard.
The Scorpion nodded. ‘And be sure you give your chief my regards. Anything she wants, she knows where to find me.’
Without another word, the two Mynans hauled Che effortlessly upright. She felt something cold pressed against her side and knew it was a dagger blade.
‘Any struggle, one word from you,’ the man said, ‘and your masters’ll still be picking up the pieces in a tenday’s time. Understand?’
‘Please,’ she got out, ‘just take me to Kymene.’
The dagger pricked her and she stopped.
‘One more word,’ said the Mynan flatly. ‘Any word you please, and I’ll gut you right here and now.’
They hurried her through the city by the backstreets. It was night and she got little sense of the place, but there was a tension in the air. A lot of the locals were out under the dark sky, standing aimlessly as though waiting to be told what to do.
Thalric was right about this place, she thought. Shame everything else has gone so wrong.
They reached an anonymous-looking house in one of the many districts the Wasps had left to decay, and bundled her swiftly into it: from Hokiak’s cellar to the cellar of this place with the minimum of fuss. They locked her in, and left her there with her hands tied.
It will all be all right, she tried to tell herself. Kymene will come, and she’ll believe me. It will all be all right. It served as a hollow little mantra to recite to herself.
She guessed that most of an hour had gone past before the door opened again, and a Mynan man stalked down the stone steps towards her. A second man stayed aloft with a lantern, but Che did not need its light to recognize her visitor. For a moment his name escaped her, then it was blessedly in the front of her mind.
‘Chyses!’
He stared at her, motioned for the lantern to come closer. The man had changed little, save that his expression of bitter dissatisfaction had deepened. He had a knife in his hand, and she realized it was not to frighten her so much as to whet his own anticipation. Tynisa always said she didn’t like him…
‘Chyses, it’s me,’ Che said. ‘Don’t you recognize me?’
‘Of course I recognize you,’ the Mynan said coldly. ‘That’s usually the case with traitors.’
‘I’m no traitor,’ she protested.
‘Hokiak thinks you are.’
‘Hokiak is wrong! Hokiak only thinks so because I came in with a Wasp. If I was really trying to infiltrate your people, would I do that?’
Chyses regarded her without love. ‘I can’t think of anyone who would do something that stupid, so why not a traitor? It makes sense to me. Besides, I hear the Wasp ran after killing some of Hokiak’s men.’
‘He’s a renegade and the Empire wants him dead. He must have thought Hokiak was going to sell him out.’
‘You tell whatever story you want, right now,’ Chyses said. ‘Give me time and I’ll pare the truth from you, so you just go ahead and babble.’
‘Will you at least let me speak to Kymene?’ she asked.
Chyses gave a smile that was brief and unpleasant. ‘Be careful what you ask for. She’s coming to see you, girl. For old times’ sake, maybe.’