Tynan’s eyes slid over to the Aldanrael woman, and they obviously shared some understanding denied to him, before the general nodded for him to continue.
‘I thought,’ he said, irritated by the nervousness in his voice, which had never let him down before, ‘that I would offer myself as a go-between. Now you are masters of Collegium, after all, you will want someone. . who knows how it all works.’ His voice trailed off on seeing Tynan’s expression, and mostly because there was more pity in it than anything else. The general leant back to make some murmured enquiry of the colonel at his shoulder, but the Spider Arista was still studying Jodry carefully.
‘My son mentioned you in his last report, Master Drillen,’ she said briskly, and it took Jodry an unaccustomed moment to work out what she meant. But, of course, she was here to avenge both the turning back of her armada and the death of her child Teornis, whom Stenwold had killed in Princep.
Jodry made himself lift a polite eyebrow. ‘And what did he write, my lady?’
‘He recommended keeping you alive, Master Drillen,’ Mycella explained. ‘I think he liked you. He was terribly sentimental, I’m afraid.’ She sighed. ‘The innocence of those days, had we only known.’
Tynan had now heard his colonel’s reply and turned back, face expressionless. ‘Your services will not be required. The Empire has appointed a new officer to command your Assembly, to better advise and assist our governance of the city in line with Imperial policy.’ He stood up, and Jodry took an involuntary step back, as though the general himself was going to put a sword in him. His back struck against the unyielding chill of armour, and he whirled round to find that there were a half-dozen soldiers inside the tent now, whom he had not even noticed entering.
He fought to recover his composure, but the same fear that had assailed him before the gatehouse was back with reinforcements. The faces of the soldiers, of the general and the Lady-Martial all seemed mere masks of human skin over something murderous. Or is it we in Collegium who have gone against human nature. Is their warlike drive the true humanity? Right now a single friendly Beetle face would be a blessedly welcome sight.
‘Cherten, let’s get this over with. Bring in the major,’ Tynan directed, and the colonel bowed and stepped past Jodry, heading out of the tent.
What are you going to do with me? But to ask that question would be to invite the answer, and Jodry had no wish to hear it. Instead, he just stood there and fought to keep back the terror that was stealing over him.
In almost no time, Colonel Cherten was back, followed by a man wearing the robes of the Empire’s Diplomatic Corps, that misleadingly Collegiate style recast in black and gold.
‘Why, hello, Jodry,’ said Helmess Broiler, with a smile that could cut glass.
Jodry nodded to him, managing that same cordial coldness with which he would have greeted the man in the Assembly. ‘Broiler.’
‘Who would have thought it,’ Helmess mused. ‘The votes are in and I was made Speaker, after all. Fancy that, eh?’
Tynan shifted slightly, and Jodry saw a moment of quickly stifled fright in Helmess’s eyes, before the man said, ‘Yes, General, you wished to see me?’
‘Major Broiler, a matter involving the Collegiate Assembly has come up,’ Tynan told him. To Jodry’s ear there was absolutely no liking for the turncoat Beetle in the general’s voice, but he knew that would not change anything. ‘Perhaps you have a solution?’
Helmess smiled — not even an unctuous, favour-currying smile but his usual avuncular beam, which had served him so well in Collegiate politics. ‘Why, certainly, sir. As you know, Master Drillen is near the top of the list of the Empire’s enemies. Under other circumstances I would expect him to be passed over to the interrogators to be examined on the wider capabilities of Collegium’s allies, news from Sarn and all the rest. However. .’ He turned that smile now on Jodry, who remained very still and did not look him in the eye. ‘In all honesty the man’s little more than a figurehead, and there are wiser men who know far more and who are already on our list.’
For a hollow moment Jodry found he had been given the unasked-for gift of hope. It was a poisoned gift, he knew, and yet he could not stop his heart leaping at it, just as Helmess must have expected.
‘I would suggest that Colonel Cherten’s staff turn their attention instead to his knowledge of those on our list whose whereabouts are unknown — a detailed and systematic inquiry as to who remains within the city, who has fled, and who was killed in the fighting. These details he will know, sir.’
Tynan stepped forwards, close enough for Jodry to reach out and touch him if he dared. His eyes flicked sideways at Cherten, who nodded minutely.
‘And then?’ the general asked.
Helmess’s face emptied of anything approaching common humanity. ‘Collegium needs to be sent a clear message, sir. I believe crossed pikes are traditional.’
Tynan studied him for a long while, and Jodry had every chance to decipher the minutiae of the man’s expression, to see just how much loathing the soldier felt for this traitor, however useful that betrayal had been. If Helmess had not been Cherten’s man, then Jodry would not have given a stripped gear for his chances.
At last: ‘Although their use has become somewhat widespread in recent years,’ the general declared, ‘the pikes are properly a punishment for those of the Empire who have turned against their masters: escaped slaves and rebellious generals alike.’ He looked Jodry in the eye. ‘But you’re right about sending a message. Some other means, then, quick but public.’
Helmess kept his face carefully empty of disappointment. ‘The Lady-Martial’s people use just such a method to dispose of their criminals,’ he observed.
Tynan nodded, still staring into Jodry’s face. His thoughts were plain: he respected Jodry’s coming in person to deliver the surrender, but he would do nothing to stop his people torturing and killing him. Indeed he would applaud it, because to him it was the right and necessary thing to do. Here was the Empire in miniature.
‘You’ll get nothing from me!’ Jodry bellowed, finding his voice at last as the soldiers took hold of him. Nobody was listening, though, as they hauled him out of the tent. Or perhaps only Helmess heard, as he followed the knot of men outside to watch Jodry depart, and stood grinning from ear to ear.
And, towards evening the same day, Helmess stood on the wall above the north gate, watching the tail end of the Second Army march into the city. There were soldiers on every rooftop now, watching out for trouble, whilst elsewhere the Company soldiers were surrendering their arms, no doubt desperately hoping that the Empire would keep its word. While Cherten’s interrogators had put Jodry on the rack, Helmess had stood here and watched the Empire’s vanguard entering the city. There had been quite a few there to watch, displaying the traditional Collegiate inability to stay away from anything that was happening, however appalling. The silence of that crowd had been deafening, and Helmess had made quite a study of their expressions as his people had witnessed the boots of the Empire march over their much-cherished freedoms.
He was glad to have Jodry beside him now, for one last put-down, before his work began.
‘“You’ll get nothing from me”,’ he mimicked. ‘Oh, I’ll wager they’d never heard that one before. And you squealed, you fat bastard. You broke and blubbered and told them everything they wanted. Of course you did.’
He took a deep breath, savouring the air. Tomorrow the Assembly would meet — his Assembly — and he would tell them how it was going to be. And there would be other duties, happy ones. He had some old friends to go and look in on, thanks to what Jodry had revealed.