Dragonfly Falling Part 16

'Even when you've escaped, you find you've brought so much of that cursed business with you. You're never free of it. That's why Ant mercenaries are always the best. They're loyal. n.o.body ever got double-crossed by an Ant. Or precious few, and not without good reason. So when I got to know Scuto, I got loyal to him. And, now that I'm with your pack, I'm loyal to you. It's just the way we are. So you don't need to worry about trouble from my direction.' He slipped the heavy nailbow off his shoulder and laid it on the table-edge, opening its casing and taking a swab of cloth from a belt-pouch. 'You mind keeping your eyes about you while I clean her?' he asked, and she nodded agreement, thinking about all he had said.

To Arianna they seemed so obviously on edge that she was amazed Thalric did not shoot them all on sight. Her blood and her profession had given her a very good eye to read people and she perceived the taut bonds of conspiracy between herself, Hofi and Scadran as though they were bright ribbons binding them together.

Graf sat at his desk, no doubt dealing with the contracts of the men killed at the warehouse and the few who survived. He looked in an ill temper, barely glancing at them as they filed in. Thalric himself was obviously ready to depart for Vek. He had donned a long coat and there was a pack slung ready on the back of his chair. He did seem to frown a little as the three of them took their places about the room. Hofi moved close to Graf, flicking his wings to perch on the corner of the desk. Arianna herself was leaning by the window, and she knew she was looking casual, nothing in her stance to betray her. Scadran just stood in the middle of the room, and to her he radiated tension.

She supposed they had a lot to be tense about, considering all the changes recently. A lot had happened and a lot had gone wrong. The future held clouds yet to come.

Thalric nodded at them, eventually. He seemed tired, which would work well for them. No doubt he had been busy from the early hours, putting his plans in place.

'I have your final a.s.signments before the Vekken get here,' he told them. 'After that I will try to get word to you, but you'll understand I can't guarantee it. After the siege starts I'll leave it to Graf here, and to your own judgements, how the city's defence can best be sabotaged. A quick victory for Vek will serve us best, although one that kills a great many Vekken troops at the same time would be the perfect result.'

'Excuse me, Major, but what should we do when the walls actually fall?' Hofi asked. 'You won't be able to provide the entire army of Vek with our descriptions.'

His tone was too confrontational, and Arianna guessed he was steeling himself to the task. Thalric's frown returned.

'If you can't extract yourselves from the situation then you're in the wrong trade,' he said shortly. 'If all else fails, defect at the last moment and drop my name to whoever chances to question you. I've not abandoned my people before and I will not do so this time, worry not.'

'What do you have for us, sir?' Arianna asked.

'Well for you, I want you to work your charms on someone in the Collegium militia. One of their senior officers, in fact. They're all old men who like wearing medals and uniforms. Most of them haven't held a sword in ten years. I want information about the military, and you'll be in a position to throw a wrench into their gears when the fighting starts.' He turned from her. 'Hofi, I want you to start spreading rumours amongst your clientele and your peers. Rumours about the military weakness of the city. Rumours that Sarn has become sick of this place. Rumours that Sarn may even be looking to make Collegium merely the junior partner in their alliance. A Sarnesh attack yes, that might sell well.'

'I see, sir,' Hofi said. 'Lower their morale, you mean. Take away their hope.'

'Indeed. As for you, Scadran, you must look to the port defences. The attack will surely include a naval action, or the Vekken are greater fools than I take them for. Look to see what can be sabotaged at the relevant moment.'

Scadran nodded sullenly.

'Well, I take it we all now understand our tasks, and I wish you good luck with them. Now, I have an appointment with our people in Vek.'

He rose, and just then Hofi slammed his open palm on the desk, their signal.

Arianna had her dagger already clear of its sheath as Hofi drove his own into Lieutenant Graf. The Fly-kinden had been trying to sink the blade over the man's collarbone, but Graf jerked back even as he struck, and Hofi ended up driving it up to the hilt into his shoulder, the Fly's wings powering the blow. Graf roared with pain and reached for his sword.

Scadran was already rus.h.i.+ng for Thalric. He had a heavy-bladed sword out, but swung it so wildly that Arianna could not get close to help him. Thalric swayed back, his face set and hard, and as the blade came down again he tried to catch Scadran's wrist. The force of the blow knocked Thalric back into a corner of the room, Scadran's weight and strength pus.h.i.+ng him almost to his knees. The big man's off-hand fumbled at Thalric's collar, trying for a hold around his throat.

There was the familiar crackling sound of a Wasp sting from behind her, and Arianna turned to look. Hofi was hanging in the air amidst the glitter of his own wings, and Graf had blown a charred circle into the far wall. Then the Fly slashed savagely with his blade and Graf was reeling back, clutching at his face and screaming. There was blood spitting from between his fingers and Arianna realized that Hofi had gashed the man's one good eye.

She turned back to Thalric. The Wasp was stronger than he looked, every muscle straining to keep Scadran off him, but his halfbreed a.s.sailant had the advantage. Thalric's teeth were bared and his eyes bulged, not from Scadran's throttling grip but from his own sheer fury. They swayed back and forth, but with Scadran always forcing him into the wall again at last. Arianna saw her moment. She darted in and rammed her dagger into Thalric's side.

Or that had been the idea. Instead, although the stroke was true, she struck something hard beneath his coat and the blade of her knife snapped at the hilt.

Thalric made a hissing sound that might have been triumph, and kicked Scadran solidly across his bandaged calf. The big man roared in pain, his grip loosening for just a second, and Thalric put a hand under Scadran's chin and unleashed his sting.

Scadran's head simply exploded. There was nothing more to it than that. The body that fell colossally back to the floor was virtually decapitated. Arianna felt her insides lurch in fear and horror but she had her Art-made weapons out now, the narrow claws jutting from her knuckles, and she struck Thalric across the face, gas.h.i.+ng his cheek. She had hoped to snap his head round but he took the blow without flinching, and then backhanded her solidly, spinning her to the floor.

He walked past her, and she tried to stand, her head spinning. He had not killed her, which could only mean he wanted to question her or to prolong her death. The Rekef showed no forgiveness for treachery.

She saw Hofi, red with Graf's blood, rise from behind the desk and see Thalric. The Fly-kinden did not hesitate. She had never guessed that the una.s.suming barber was such a fierce fighter but he hurled himself on Thalric instantly, his wings flinging him across the room. Arianna was on her feet now, swaying, seeing Thalric's sword clear its scabbard and cut across Hofi even as the Fly charged him. The impact spun the blade from Thalric's hand, but trailing crimson as it flew, and Hofi had fallen from the air, striking the ground hard with his hands pressed to the red stain growing over his tunic.

She looked at the sword. It lay beyond Thalric, but a concerted rush might capture it.

Thalric stared down at the writhing Fly for a moment and then raised his arm and finished him with a single sizzling bolt of energy.

Arianna ran. She flung the door open and was out of the room, then out of the building, unarmed and spattered with Scadran's blood.

Thalric sighed heavily. He should have seen this coming, but a lot of things had been demanding his attention recently. He had not thought to look more carefully into the faces of his own people.

That will teach me to trust any inferior race, but in the Rekef Outlander there was frequently little choice. He went to check Graf, in faint hope, but just the sight of the man's butchered body was enough. No help there. Graf had been a good agent, a loyal subject of the Empire. He deserved a better end than this.

Thalric reclaimed his sword, and one hand found the puncture that Arianna had made in the leather of his coat. Beneath it gleamed the links of his copperweave s.h.i.+rt. Though not what it once was, having been pieced back together with steel after Tynisa had sheared it open down the front, it had saved his life again.

Then he stepped out of the room, following Arianna's path, for he had unfinished business.

Fifteen.

'Explain to me why these machines are such a threat,' demanded one of the Tarkesh tacticians, sounding irritable. He might even have been the king, for Totho found it difficult to distinguish Tark's ruler, to whom he had been briefly introduced, from the other men on his staff. There were about a dozen of them, men and women, and they all had the same Tarkesh features that made them look like siblings. The king wore no special garments or insignia, just the same plate and chain armour as the others, even here in his war-room, and like them looked as though he was short on sleep. Totho supposed that, mentally, he kept saying, 'I'm the king, I'm the king,' but for outsiders it was impossible to tell.

'It's all to do with flight: Art flight and mechanical flight,' he said, looking from face to face just to be sure. 'I'm afraid I don't fly any more than you, so can I ask my friend here to explain about Art flight?'

One of them nodded, one of the women, and Salma stepped forwards. Totho glanced around to see Parops standing to attention behind them, having persuaded the court to see them at all.

'Your Majesty,' Salma said tactfully, bowing to the correct Ant, 'may I present myself as Prince Minor Salme Dien of the Dragonfly Commonweal, arrived here in common cause with your city-state at the behest of Master Stenwold Maker of the Great College.'

It sounded impressive, but he prompted no awed reaction from the a.s.sembled tacticians. Instead they just eyed him suspiciously.

'The Wasps are not strong fliers,' Salma continued. 'With only the wings their Art can summon up, they cannot fly for long distances. They can just about get from their camp across your walls, but they could not simply circle over your city for hours, or even many minutes. Moreover, they could not gain enough height to get out of range of your crossbows without wholly exhausting themselves. You've seen that for yourselves, I'm sure.'

There were nods and a few hard smiles around the war table, and Salma thought, They actually think they're winning! They actually think they're winning!

'I'm sure the Wasps have some who are better than that, probably scout squads of their best fliers, but not enough to make a difference. They also have their insect cavalry, and their machines . . . I forget what Totho called them.'

'Heliopters,' Totho supplied. 'The problem is that they don't fly very high either, and they're very exposed to your artillery, because they're big and slow and not as heavily armoured as you might think, because then they couldn't get off the ground at all.'

'We have seen such,' one of the tacticians confirmed.

'But their airs.h.i.+ps can fly much higher,' Totho explained. 'So high, in fact, that the only thing able to threaten them would be something else capable of flying that high. I don't even know if your orthopters could do it but the Wasps obviously thought they could, which is why they mounted the night attack that saw most of them destroyed. At a great cost to the Wasps themselves, true, but now they can safely attack your city from the air. They can drop explosives on you, or even just rocks or leadshot. They can deploy their soldiers, as well, over any part of the city that they choose. Even though they can't fly up high of their own accord they can glide down without much effort. I am afraid that the Wasps have brought a new kind of war to you.'

Though the tacticians did not exchange glances or confer, Totho sensed the flurry of thoughts pa.s.sing between them. At last one of them spoke.

'We must destroy them, then, on the ground.'

'That would seem to be your best chance,' Totho agreed.

'An attempt at sallying out with any affordable force would meet with defeat almost immediately,' another tactician warned. 'A sally with sufficient force would merely leave the city wide open, and the potential casualties amongst our troops would be unacceptable.'

'A covert attack would be the only solution,' a third concluded, fixing Totho and Salma with a fierce stare. This, Totho realized, must be the King of Tark.

'We will trust your a.n.a.lysis of the situation,' the man continued. 'You have information and perspective that we lack in this. We distrust new wars, and we see this distrust has brought us to this point. We must mount a swift strike tonight to destroy the airs.h.i.+ps. Then we must destroy the Wasps in the field before they can construct or import more of them.'

'Your Majesty,' said Salma, 'I would go with your men, if I may?' The tacticians studied him, narrow-eyed, and he shrugged. 'For one, I can fly. I can see better in the darkness than your people. And I am a sworn enemy of the Wasps.'

'We have favourable reports of your fighting in the recent attack.' The King nodded. 'You indeed have talents we lack. Very well. And your comrade?'

'No-' Salma started, but, 'Yes,' said Totho.

Salma goggled at him, wrong-footed for once, and Totho felt obscurely proud of that. 'I may not be the fighter that Salma here is,' he said, 'but I am an artificer of the College, and destroying the airs.h.i.+ps is an artificer's work.'

'You must stay always with our people,' the King warned him. 'They will know each other's minds, but not yours. You must not stray from them.'

'I will do what is asked of me,' Totho confirmed, and realized Salma was still staring at him, shaking his head slightly. 'I have one other request for Your Majesty, though.'

'What request is this?' The King and his staff were all suspicion again.

'There was a halfbreed scout captured with us, when your soldiers took us in,' Totho explained. 'Her name is Skrill. Please let her out of the city when we start on our sally, so that she can head for Collegium and inform Master Maker what's happening here. He is trying to organize an army against the Wasps, I think, and he may be able to help, so he needs to know exactly what's going on here.'

There was a long silence between the tacticians then, as they pa.s.sed their narrow thoughts back and forth, trying for a consensus. Eventually, the King nodded slowly.

'It shall be so,' he said.

'Would you mind explaining to me just exactly what you're doing?' Salma demanded, once they were back in their rooms in Parops's slightly skewed tower.

'I don't mind at all,' said Totho. 'If you don't mind answering the same question first.'

'I am going out to fight,' Salma said, 'because I have been trained to fight, and because the Wasps are the enemies of my people, and most of all because I know how to look after myself-'

'That's not it at all,' said Totho. He now felt drained and miserable. The prospect of tonight's activities oppressed him, and he sensed that he had been robbed of choice from the moment he had set foot in Tark. My last real choice was to leave Che to the Moth. My last real choice was to leave Che to the Moth. And what a good choice that had been. And what a good choice that had been.

'What's not it?' and even to Totho, who had no great ear for such things, Salma sounded evasive. not it?' and even to Totho, who had no great ear for such things, Salma sounded evasive.

'You don't care about Tark. No, that's unfair but you sold yourself long to the Ants. You can fight, but you're no good at destroying airs.h.i.+ps.'

'The Moths of Tharn can destroy mine-workings. I witnessed that in h.e.l.leron.'

'Because they've practised, they've learned particular things by rote. That's not the same,' Totho said. 'But here you are charging out to fight thirty thousand Wasp-kinden, and you don't care about Tark enough to do that. You're looking for her, the dancing girl.'

Salma was quiet for a long time before finally getting his words in order. 'You know, Toth, I really do underestimate you sometimes.'

'All the time,' said the artificer. 'Everyone does. You've not spoken of her, barely mentioned her, since the Ants caught us. I knew, though I knew you hadn't forgotten. I never saw her but I hope she's worth it.'

'I dream about her,' Salma said, surprising him. 'I can't put her out of my mind. Whenever I'm active, doing something, I'm all right, but then in the pauses she comes back to me. I didn't even know her for long, and yet . . . here I am.' He gave Totho a solemn look. 'I suppose that we're not so very different in that, since you're in love with Che.'

Totho nodded glumly. 'Since almost the moment I met her. Only, Stenwold doesn't much like the idea . . . I even got the courage to ask his blessing, back in Myna, and he didn't say anything much, but his face . . . you could tell. And then that cursed Moth, he just turns up from nowhere as though he's her best friend in the world. And as soon as we got the two of you from the prison he was all over her. You must have seen it.'

'I did,' Salma admitted. 'I had other things on my mind, but I saw it.'

'And she . . . she liked him, I could tell. But it's like Tynisa and the boys from the College. They go to her because she's . . . graceful and . . . elegant . . . and sometimes she leads them on. But I can't believe that creature creature feels anything for Che . . . and I tried to tell her how I felt, but she didn't understand, and it all became . . . I just couldn't stand . . .' He found that he was sniffling now and wiped his eyes and his nose furiously. 'And so I just left, put a note by her pillow and left. I . . . I feel gutted, literally gutted, Salma. Like my insides have been ripped out of me. I'm just hollow. And now all this . . . all the killing, the destruction. You know how I've always wanted to design weapons?' feels anything for Che . . . and I tried to tell her how I felt, but she didn't understand, and it all became . . . I just couldn't stand . . .' He found that he was sniffling now and wiped his eyes and his nose furiously. 'And so I just left, put a note by her pillow and left. I . . . I feel gutted, literally gutted, Salma. Like my insides have been ripped out of me. I'm just hollow. And now all this . . . all the killing, the destruction. You know how I've always wanted to design weapons?'

'I didn't, but go on.'

'I should should feel that it's wrong after I've seen what those weapons can do. And yet . . . and yet people would still kill each other with sticks and stones if they didn't have anything else. With their bare hands even. And it would be pointless, so pointless. I . . . I almost think that only the weapons make it all worth anything. At least something is learning from the whole b.l.o.o.d.y business. The people remain the same, killing and dying and dying and killing, but at least the weapons get better.' feel that it's wrong after I've seen what those weapons can do. And yet . . . and yet people would still kill each other with sticks and stones if they didn't have anything else. With their bare hands even. And it would be pointless, so pointless. I . . . I almost think that only the weapons make it all worth anything. At least something is learning from the whole b.l.o.o.d.y business. The people remain the same, killing and dying and dying and killing, but at least the weapons get better.'

Salma gave him a doubtful look. 'I don't think Che would like to hear that.'

'No, I'm sure she wouldn't.' Totho rubbed at his face, as if trying to erase some unseen stain.

Salma decided to come to the point. 'Listen, Toth, when Skrill makes her move, you should go with her. Get out of here and get back to Stenwold. The Ants have artificers enough. Go back to Stenwold. And to Che, even.'

But Totho was shaking his head. 'You haven't thought it through, Salma. Sorry, but you haven't. What am I supposed to say to her? Yes, I left you on an ill-planned mission that seemed certain to see you dead. Yes, I just ran, at that point, and made sure that my skin stayed whole. That, you see, would look particularly impressive. Che likes you. You and she went through a lot together. When you decided to come here on this fool's mission she was furious, and it was because she was frightened for you. She doesn't like me half as much, I think, nor would she have shed as many tears for me. So if I go back with that story, that I left you to your fate, how could I look her in the face? I know it's not practical, and I'm supposed to be a practical man, but that's how it is.'

'Then don't leave, just stay here. Stay in the city and wait,' Salma said. 'You don't need to go tonight.'

'It makes no difference, because I'd still be in the same position. Anyway I don't think you'll be coming back here afterwards.'

'You can't think I'd just grab Grief and abandon you here.'

'No,' Totho said, 'that isn't what I think at all.'

'Then . . .' Salma thought about it. 'Oh, I see.'

'This is a fool's mission, and these Ants are fools. They didn't understand a word of what you said, or what I said. They have no concept of an enemy that is so much stronger than they are. Their mission tonight will not succeed.'

'I thought in Collegium they didn't believe in destiny.'

'We believe in the odds, Salma,' Totho said, 'and I do not believe that we will win, tonight. I really do not believe that we will survive.' He sounded distant, almost trancelike.

'Well if you believe that,' Salma told him, 'then the question is back on the table. Why are you coming with me? Or is that that why? Is that it?' why? Is that it?'

'I do not have that courage, or that cowardice, whatever it is,' Totho said, 'to turn the blade upon myself. But I have . . . nothing left, Salma. I have nothing left. And so I'll let the Wasps do it instead, if it's all right with you. And if I can help you out, or even help the b.l.o.o.d.y ignorant Tarkesh, then that's good too. But I am turning into something strange that I do not like. And so I think it best that I go with you tonight, and best of all if I do not return.'

Salma had no reply for that, trying to see through the clouds hanging about this man to the student he had once known. Totho had always been gloomy, it was true. He had always been s.h.i.+elding his halfbreed nature against the world and then there had been his infatuation with Che, which had not helped. Tark had been the forge, though, that had taken the decent ingredients of the man and botched them into something flawed and strangely made.

We can win, tonight, Salma told himself. His own race were slow to admit to the impossible, and the histories of the Commonweal were rife with accounts of one man standing off a hundred, of bridges held by a mere handful, of one a.s.sa.s.sination bringing down an army or a princ.i.p.ality.

We can win, he thought again, trying to convince himself, but in that moment he felt very far from home and the things he knew, surrounded by hard stone and jagged metal, and afraid.

'So how do we get outside the walls without the Wasps spotting us?' Salma asked.

Their leader was Basila, who had interrogated him when he first came to Tark, and then bedded him shortly afterwards. Now she was attired in dark cloth over metal-reinforced leathers, hooded and with a scarf ready to cover her lower face. Both her blade and her exposed skin were blacked.

'Do you think the Wasp-kinden are the only people who have ideas?' she asked contemptuously. 'We are ready for this possibility.'

Salma had accepted an arming jacket from them, and a better-balanced sword, but they had no bows in the whole of the city. For Totho they had found artificers' leathers and another repeating crossbow, not as fine as Scuto's had been, but a serviceable machine nonetheless.