'I'd settle for Bise capitulating.'
Owain laughed. 'Don't worry. When the time comes, I will stand over Master Bise personally, and ensure he signs the exclusion warrants for Sampalok.'
'Your honour?'
'It is simple politics. Master Bise believes he can gain more influence by supporting me. In Council it pays me to encourage such support. Ultimately, Bise will accept the inevitable, and his nefarious allies will be purged from our streets.'
'That's… a relief to know.'
'I thought it would be. So, whilst not asking you to switch your support, for Finitan is your patron, and I would not want to foster such disloyalty, do you at least agree with some of my objectives?'
'Yes, your honour, I do.'
'Thank you.'
'Why can you not reach a concord with Master Finitan?'
'Sadly, we have been adversaries for too long. Neither of us trusts the other. And I have to say, I will campaign long and hard to retain my office no matter what we agree or disagree in private. Such is the nature of humanity, least of all flawed specimens like us ancient conservative Masters. Do you think it likely that Finitan will back down?'
'No.'
'Precisely. I wanted to reassure you of my own goals, because whoever wins this election, it is you who will be fighting the gangs on the streets.'
'Thank you, your honour.'
'I admit, knowing you will be working for the city is of considerable relief to me. The constables have performed little short of a miracle since the day you walked on water. And that resounding victory over dear little Mirnatha's captors was extraordinary. I admit to joining the cheers of joy along Grand Major Canal that day. I ask the Lady that she will be equally generous granting the militia victory. Theirs will be the more difficult task, and the one bogged down in politics.'
'How is that?' Ink-aid asked. They'd nearly reached the Outer
Circle Canal, up ahead he could see the bronze and jade bridge which Rah himself had commissioned.
'The countryside wishes to enjoy the benefits of the city without having to pay the cost,' Owain said. 'Five times since last summer I have dispatched our regiments to aid desperate provincial governors. And what payment have we received? A grudgingly given reimbursement for our basic costs. To what avail? The regiments ultimately have to come home, leaving the lands open once again to infiltration by the bandits. It is a nonsense, a gesture which achieves nothing in the long term. If we are to achieve stability and an end to this dreadful felony, then the provinces will have to pay taxes to Makkathran for organizing their defence. Militias will have to be stationed permanently and strategically across the countryside. Such achievement will require tremendous organization, one province cannot be favoured above another. All costs - and they will be considerable -must be borne equally. The rule of law available to all without prejudice. Both the Master in his mansion and the farmer in his cottage will have to answer to the same authority.'
'One nation,' Edeard said.
'Precisely. At the moment city and provinces are naught but a loose affiliate. And look where it has taken us, to the verge of anarchy. To face this new threat, we have to consolidate the forces of civilization, to strengthen our boundary and enforce our justice. Only as a nation where equality reigns, can this happen.'
They walked over the bridge together. Edeard's mind was awhirl trying to take in all the Mayor had said. Standing in the shade thrown by the sprawling conglomeration of Parliament House's buildings, Owain faced Edeard.
'I hope you no longer consider me an enemy, Waterwalker.'
'I never really did, your honour.'
'That gladdens me. Maybe one day, when your generation has risen to high office, you will extinguish the vanity and foolishness of petty politics that so bedevils us today. I wish you luck in that.' He inclined his head, and walked into the tower housing the Guild Of Clerks. His entourage went with him; Captain Larose smiled knowingly as he passed Edeard.
'Ho Lady,' Edeard exhaled. He turned and made his way slowly round the base of Parliament House, towards the bridge which would take him back into Jeavons. So whoever wins, they'll support me against the gangs.
Despite everything the Mayor had said, he still hoped it would be Finitan. Though the idea of a penal colony on a remote island was an intriguing one.
* * * *
Of all the people in Makkathran, Nanitte was the one Edeard would never have expected to see waiting for him in the street outside the tenement. But there she was when he made his way home that evening.
'Can I talk to you?' she asked as he reached the tenement's entrance.
Edeard's farsight swept round. He wasn't just searching for people he knew (this wouldn't look good to Macsen, for a start), but to see who Buate had got watching. 'You've got one minute,' he said, after confirming there was nothing immediately suspicious.
'Not out here, this is too important.' Nanitte's voice was brittle; her old self-confidence had gone.
Edeard took a good look. Beneath her dark-blue cloak, she wore a low-cut green and white dress, with her hair arranged in long waves. Now, out here in the sunlight, he could see the heavy makeup on her face. Even that didn't completely cover up the bruise. Her lip had recently been split as well.
'All right,' Edeard said reluctantly. 'Five minutes.'
Nanitte looked round the inside of the maisonette with interest. Her hand slid over the cold alcove, fingers touching the milk jug and fruit. 'It is all different in here, just like they said it was,' she said as she walked over to the bed. A hand tested the firmness of the spongy substance.
'Who said?'
'Girls I've talked to. On Ivarl's behalf, of course. They talk freely to me rather than him.'
Edeard grunted. 'Right.'
'He was obsessed with you.'
'And his brother?'
Nanitte slumped. 'I hate him.'
Edeard indicated her face. 'He hits you.'
'Among other things, yes.'
'Leave him.'
She laughed bitterly. 'You said that with a straight face. You really do come from another place, don't you?'
'Probably.'
'I want to leave him,' she said. 'Those things you said to him the other night. That's all going to happen, isn't it?'
'Yes. Even if Owain gets elected; I was talking to him today.'
'So I'd be thrown out of the city.'
'That depends how deep your involvement is.'
'I was surprised I'm not on your warrants already.'
'We're concentrating on the violent ones for now.'
'It wouldn't be much of a life for me out there, not like that, not the whore of an exile.'
'Why are you here, Nanitte? What have you got to tell me?'
'He's going to buy guns, a lot of guns.'
'Who from?'
She gave him a thin smile. 'If I left now, by myself, I thought perhaps I could go to one of the big towns beyond the Iguru Plain, somewhere no one would know me or what I am. I could buy a small house, or some land. If I had that, I could find a husband, a nice provincial man. I'd be able to make sure he loved me; whores make the best wives, did you know that? I'm not quite sure I could do the whole housemistress and children thing for him, but we'd be happy, and all this, my life, would be gone.'
'I wish Buate thought like that.'
'No you don't. You're enjoying this, it makes you live. You need to see him defeated, you want Makkathran liberated from the gangs he controls. You need an ending, Waterwalker. Throwing them out just so they can drift back into the city over months and years won't be good enough for you. The Waterwalker requires finality. I don't know what you'll do to achieve it, but I know I don't want to be here when you do. Out of you and Buate, I think I'm actually more afraid of you.'
'That's a very nice summary of me. Shame it's not particularly accurate.'
Nanitte glanced through the archway into the bathroom, her eyebrows rising at the sight of the perfectly flat steps leading down into the b
athing pool. 'It's not just Mothers who can see the future, you know.'
'Why don't you just tell me what you know of the guns? I'll take you to the City Gate myself. He'll never be able to stop you.'
'And how would I get my house and my land?'
'I thought… You must have money.'
'I was a dancer once. A long time ago. That's all I ever really wanted to be. Then one day Ivarl visited the show I was in. That was it. He knew the theatre owner, of course, and I was young and stupid, stupid enough to believe his promises. After I'd been with him for a while I realized that was it, I'd become a part of that life, there was no way back. No theatre owner would ever hire me unless he told them to. I gave up.'
'I'm sorry.'
'So there you are, Waterwalker, I'm not just some girl working at the House of Blue Petals; I'm his. Do you know what it is to be owned like that? To be less than some genistar?'
'I won't patronise you by saying yes.'
'Thank you. So now you know. If you want me to tell you when and where he's getting the guns, you have pay me. That's what all men do, they pay me for what I've got.'
'I'll have to ask my station captain, or maybe Finitan.'
She came to stand in front of him, as self-assured as any Master. 'You don't have that much time. I need the money today. I want to be gone by morning.'
'There's a reason these things take time to arrange.'
'I told you of my dream, nothing more. We both know I can survive anywhere. Is that what you want for me, to keep on doing what I do? I thought you were going to save us all, Waterwalker.'
'I haven't got that kind of coinage.'
'Kristabel does.'
'I can't ask her.'
'Why not? Actually, why aren't the two of you engaged? All of Makkathran wants to know that. You can tell me. I'm leaving, remember.'
'Stop this.'
Nanitte discarded her cloak as she went over to the bed and bent across it, her hands slid over the sheets. 'If you really want her, I can show you how to make your next week and the day work perfectly.'
'Get off the bed.'
'You know I'm good. Who do you think showed Ranalee the physical side of her ability?'
Edeard nearly reached out to grab her with his third hand, only just managing to keep his temper in check.
Nanitte straightened up. 'You see what I am, Waterwalker. How low I am? They made me like this. And now I can't go back, not after talking to you. You saw what happened to Ivarl, and he wasn't even turning on them like I am. So now you have to ask yourself how badly do you want them? Bad enough to ask Kristabel for the kind of coinage she would spend on shoes to match one of her party dresses? Or are you just going to let this opportunity slip away because it's all turned too personal for you?'
'This is not personal.'
'Good. Then I'll just wait here while you go and get my money.'
* * * *
'We can't trust her,' Macsen said the next morning when Edeard called them into the small hall.
'Why not?' Edeard asked, trying to be the reasonable one. He'd felt terrible going to Kristabel for money. She of course had made light of it; saying how much she wanted to help. Her understanding didn't make him feel any better.
Nanitte had counted the coins in the bag he brought back to the maisonette, unable to disguise her surprise by how much there was. 'I should have done this a long time ago,' she said.
'Just tell me about the guns,' he said. And she did, about the meeting in Buate's office which she'd been excluded from; the men she'd never seen before, with accents that didn't come from any city district; how Buate had started talking about constable-killer pistols, and levelling up the score.
'Because she's Nanitte,' Macsen said, not understanding why that wasn't enough.
'I could sense she was telling the truth about the guns,' Edeard said.
'I'd be more concerned about the rest of it,' Boyd said. 'Your pardon, Edeard, but you don't have the greatest instinct when it comes to honesty. You always want to find the best in people.'
Edeard gave his tall friend a surprised glance. 'All right, so what could she have been lying about? The worst case is she made an arse of me and ran off with a lot of coinage, how does that put us in trouble at the exchange?'
'What was that phrase you used?' Dinlay said mildly. 'Oh yes: the constable-killer gun.'
Edeard scratched the back of his head, wishing that part hadn't existed. 'Yes,' he conceded. Could that mean repeat-fire guns? Nanitte said they talked with a foreign accent.
Part of him wished it were true, that he could finally prove Ashwell's destruction had come at the hands of an unknown clan from somewhere else in the world. 'But if that part of her story is genuine,' he said immediately, 'then we really need to intercept the handover before these weapons get distributed to the ordinary gang members on the street. If they get their hands on them we'll be facing a bloodbath.'
'Good point,' Macsen said grudgingly.
'They know we can conceal ourselves,' Boyd said. 'I noticed a lot more dogs in Sampalok when we were following up the Charyau thing. Most of the gang members have one these days.'
'I can protect us from a lot of bullets,' Edeard said. 'And you know we can escape in ways they could never dream of.'
The rest of the squad looked at each other.
'Okay,' Kanseen said. 'But if these pistols are anything like Nanitte claims, we're going to need some reliable back up.'
'I'll talk to Chae and Ronark,' Edeard said.
* * * *
Two nights later Edeard was wishing he had a little more confidence in the five squads of constables who were patrolling the Padua and Zelda districts. It was supposed to look like the patrols were purely random, following the whim of their corporals and sergeants. To anyone with a mistrustful mind they were highly suspicious.
Or am I being too paranoid?
Whatever, he and the squad had concealed themselves inside the base of a skewed tower in Eyrie, not too far from the Lady's central church. The tower next to them was supposed to be where the exchange would take place. Edeard didn't feel confident enough to wait there, no matter how good his concealment talent.
People were wending their way round the lofty twisted towers on their way to the huge church for the evening service. It was good cover for the gun exchange, he admitted, especially as the Pythia had refused to employ exclusion warrants for Eyrie.
'That's the third time,' Kanseen's directed longtalk whispered. She gifted them the image of the ge-eagle that swooped silently round the tower outside. Then it darted in through a high curving entrance and did a fast circuit of the huge empty space inside.
The tower chosen for the exchange was one of the tallest in Eyrie, a monstrous kinked spire whose jutting vertical ribs changed from smoky grey at the foot, through a gentle amethyst to a sullen carmine at the top, where eight tapering spikes curved up around the edges of its slanted platform. The open chamber at the bottom actually had three entrances where most towers only had one. Several lengthy stalagmites and stalactites of mauve-tinted crystal cluttered the interior, while at the centre a broad smooth shaft connected the black floor to the apex of the cave-like ceiling fifty feet above; a single narrow opening led to the spiral stair which wound the entire height of the tower.
'Get a load of this,' Boyd said. He'd sensed someone outside with a terrestrial dog on a lead. The dog was sniffing the ground as it was slowly walked around the tower.
'Isn't that Paral?' Macsen queried. 'He's got an exclusion warrant against him.'
Whoever it was, the man with the dog walked away towards the bridge back to Fiacre. A couple of constables in ordinary clothes sauntered casually after him.
Orange light was beginning to shine out of cracks in the bark-like tower walls as the sun slid below the horizon. Another ge-eagle made a swift pass through the tower's chamber.
Edeard kept his farsight focused on a gondola that had pulled up at a nearby mooring platform. Four men with a stron
g seclusion haze stepped off it, carrying large iron-bound wooden chests between them. His farsight could just perceive the shadowy shapes of solid metal inside. Another gondola moored, the men on that one carried smaller boxes. 'The ammunition,' he muttered.
The church shut its wide doors as the evening service began; bright orange light shone out of its roof dome and hundreds of windows along the three wings. A quire began to sing softly. Nearly a dozen people left, wandering round outside began to make their way towards the tall tower.
'Oh great,' Dinlay moaned. One of the people stepping through the swathes of orange illumination cast by the towers was a very cocky Medath.
Edeard grinned unseen. 'He'll die of fright when we appear.'
The men from the gondolas made their way into the tower, coming together to lace Medath's group.
'I make that fifteen of them,' Macsen said.
Edeard was trying to resolve the shapes inside the chests. They were definitely pistols, and not complex enough to be the repeat-fire types that had been used at Ashwell. Thank the Lady. Then he recognized them. 'Okay, I've seen these pistols before. They're the ones Ivarl and his people used against me on the night of the fire. They have very large calibre bullets, but I can definitely ward them off.'
'Then we'd better stop them opening the chests,' Boyd said.
'Move out,' Edeard said. As he hurried silently out of their hiding place and towards the tower ahead he called Chae. 'Move in now. There's fifteen here, but they'll have watchers.'
'Already spotted three,' Chae reassured him. 'We're coming.'
Their deployment plan was simple enough. Dinlay and Boyd would take one tower entrance, Kanseen and Macsen another, while Edeard would go in through the third.
'They're coming.'
Edeard paused, frowning at the clear longtalk. He couldn't tell where it had come from; it certainly wasn't any of the squad. Up ahead, the minds of the gang members were now radiating alarm. Their farsight scoured round.
He strode up to the threshold, listening to the low anxious voices echoing off the mauve stalagmites and curious crannies in the chamber walls. The two groups were huddled together near the central shaft, with sentries positioned near each entrance.
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