‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Dassascai said. ‘But then, neither does friendship, or love for that matter. I suppose it must be like those terrible family feuds that you hear about from time to time; they couldn’t hate each other so much if they didn’t love each other too. Like the Loredan brothers, for example.’
‘Three times.’
‘What? Oh, yes, sorry. But it’s a good example.’
‘You’re right,’ Temrai said, ‘it is. Now there was a time when I hated Bardas Loredan, more than anybody else in the world. I can’t say the same now. Maybe that’s because he’s hunting me, rather than the other way round.’
Dassascai looked at him. ‘If he does kill you, will you forgive him?’
Temrai smiled. ‘I already have.’
The first they knew of it was after breakfast, when they went out to do business; and even then, it took some time for them to notice.
There were Imperial soldiers in the streets; half-platoons standing about on street corners looking embarrassed more than anything else, like young men stood up by their girls. Venart was aware that something was different, but it was too early in the morning for him to consider the implications. Besides, groups of people standing aimlessly on street corners were a common enough sight on the Island. There was bound to be a simple, rational explanation; at least, Venart was prepared to take it on trust that there was one.
It was when they reached the Market Square that they all started to feel uncomfortable, because there was a full company of soldiers there when they arrived, drawn up in parade order but with their weapons uncovered and drawn.
‘Don’t say somebody’s tried to break into their treasury,’ Eseutz said. ‘Not tactful.’
‘That man’s pinning a notice on the Market Hall door,’ Athli pointed out. ‘Is he one of them?’
‘No idea. Well, come on. Let’s go and see what it says.’
The provincial office house style was brief, clear and businesslike; as from dawn on the seventeenth day of Butrepidon (‘When’s that?’ Eseutz asked. ‘Today,’ Venart replied. ‘Quiet.’) the prefect of Ap’ Escatoy, by the powers vested in him et cetera, had annexed the Island to the outer western province of the Empire. All property belonging to citizens of the Island would henceforth legally vest in the said prefect, in accordance with the practice of the Empire. There followed a list of regulations governing the transitional period leading up to full incorporation: nobody to enter or leave the territory without permission; no citizen to purport to make a binding contract with a foreigner; no public assembly or gathering to exceed ten people without previous consent; all arms and munitions of war to be surrendered immediately; all non-citizens to report to the commissioner for aliens forthwith; all buildings to be left unlocked to facilitate entry and inventory; sundry public order provisions; announcements of a census and interim taxation -
‘But they can’t,’ Eseutz said. Nobody else spoke. The man who’d pinned up the notice put his hammer back in his satchel and walked away, exchanging a few words with the captain of the guard.
‘It’s all right,’ said Venart, after a quick count. ‘There’s only four of us.’
‘Shut up, Ven.’ Vetriz was reading the notice for the third time. ‘That’s it, then. You and your bloody ShipOwners’ Association.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what’s done it,’ she said, quietly and angrily. ‘You thought you could pull their tails and stiff them for more money, and now look.’
Eseutz was pulling at her sleeve. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s move away. Those soldiers look very tense, if you ask me.’
‘What? Oh.’ Vetriz and the others followed her to one of the small colonnades behind the Market Hall, where there were already quite a few groups of up to nine agitated-looking citizens.
‘Here’s what we do,’ Eseutz was saying, in a loud whisper. ‘We go home, pack up as much money and valuable stuff as we can comfortably carry, and try and get to the ships. If only we can get off the Island, they can’t follow us or anything, they haven’t got any ships of their own. That’s why they can never make this thing stick.’
Venart scowled at her. ‘And how do you propose we deal with all the soldiers who’re already on the damn ships? Or had you forgotten, they’re going to invade Perimadeia with them. Athli, what about you? I can’t remember, are you a citizen or a foreigner?’
Athli thought for a moment. ‘That’s a good point,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’m a citizen, because I own property here; but I might be able to kid them into thinking I’m Shastel. But how’s that going to help you?’
‘Well, somebody’s got to go and get help,’ Venart said. ‘Raise an army, throw these bastards into the sea. That’s why you’ve got to go and raise the alarm-’
Athli looked at him. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘Who on earth is going to come and rescue us?’
Venart hadn’t thought of that, obviously. ‘Mercenaries,’ said Eseutz. ‘We could hire mercenaries – the hell with how much it costs, we’ve got to get them off the Island. Once we’ve done that, we’ll be safe.’
Athli shook her head. ‘You’re dreaming,’ she said. ‘There must be – what, fifty thousand men in the expeditionary force? You’d need at least three times that for a disputed landing. Where are we going to find-?’
‘No,’ Eseutz interrupted, ‘you’re wrong. Right now there’s fifty thousand; but when they’ve gone off to attack Temrai there’ll only be a little garrison. That’s when we get them.’
Athli closed her eyes and opened them again. ‘When they’ve got our ships,’ she said. ‘Not a very sensible suggestion, is it? As soon as they hear what we’ve done, they’ll come storming back and we won’t stand a chance. Have you any idea what they do to rebels?’
‘There has to be something -’ Eseutz stopped in mid-sentence; five soldiers and an NCO were heading towards them. Venart looked as if he was about to run away, but his sister grabbed his arm. ‘If you run, they’ll kill you,’ she whispered.
The soldiers came nearer, stopped. ‘Venart Auzeil,’ the NCO said. ‘Eseutz Mesatges.’
Venart took a deep breath. ‘I’m Venart Auzeil,’ he said. ‘What-?’
‘Eseutz Mesatges.’
Athli, Vetriz and Eseutz stayed perfectly still. The NCO waited for a few seconds, then nodded. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘we’ll take them all and sort it out later. You’re under arrest,’ he added, as an afterthought. ‘This way.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘I hate getting arrested,’ Eseutz said. ‘It’s so boring. You sit around for hours in cells and interview rooms and waiting rooms and anterooms, with nothing to do and nothing to read, and it’s always either too cold or too hot, and the food-’
That morning, it had been the guild secretary’s office, tucked away discreetly at the end of a corridor leading off the gallery that ran round three sides of the Merchant Venturers’ guild house. That morning, it had been a place you dreamed of being invited to; a big, fat office hidden down a little, thin passageway, a monument to the fusion of discretion and conspicuous display. Secretary Aloet Cor was known to be a fanatical collector of furniture, in particular the delicate, expensive and entirely impractical bone and ivory chairs and tables made by the Arrazin family of Perimadeia for six generations; she didn’t like them much, so they said, but she collected them because they were rare and horrendously overpriced, and likely to appreciate in value considerably now that the supply had been made finite following the death of all the Arrazins in the Fall. It was worth sitting on the hard marble bench outside for an hour or so, they said, just for a glimpse of the bizarre and rather grotesque lampstand carved by Leucas Arrazin a hundred and fifty years ago out of a single piece of whalebone.
‘Get arrested often, do you?’ Venart asked. ‘Sorry; I’m just curious.’
Eseutz shrugged. ‘It depends where you go,’ she said. ‘In some places it’s accepted, like their way of saying hello, welcome to our fair city. There was a time when I used to go to Burzouth a lot, I was on first-name terms with all the warders at the excise guardhouse. We used to play chess or I’d sew buttons on for them-’