Colours in the Steel f-1

by K. J. Parker

  ‘But-’ Venart said, as she opened the door. ‘Oh, never mind. Our ship’s at the north quay,’ he added, turning to follow her, ‘the Squirrel, she’s called. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding her, she’s the only twin-castled freighter in the docks.’ He raised his hand in a vague salutation, saw that Vetriz had already gone and darted after her, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Well, if that doesn’t beat cock-fighting,’ Alexius said after a long silence. ‘What do you make of that, Bardas?’

  Loredan rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand before replying. ‘How’s your head feeling?’ he asked.

  ‘I – Good heavens, you’re right. Sort of a dull, heavy ache, as if there was thunder in the air. I hadn’t noticed it until you mentioned it, but it’s there all right. How about you?’

  Loredan grimaced. ‘I wish I’d had the really good night out this is the hangover for,’ he replied. ‘I still don’t believe a word of it, of course. How about their offer? Guilty conscience, perhaps?’

  Alexius lifted his head sharply. ‘That’s a nasty one,’ he said, ‘particularly coming from a sceptic like yourself.’

  ‘I’m humouring you. Are you going to accept?’

  Alexius shook his head. ‘Twenty years ago, perhaps. Maybe even ten. Now, though, the journey’d probably kill me. Anyway, I thought you said a direct assault wasn’t going to work.’

  Lordan shook his head. ‘If I go,’ he said, ‘it won’t be because I’m afraid of the clan. But there’s nothing to keep me here except the prospect of a trial for culpable negligence. I might just go, at that.’

  ‘Oh,’ Alexius said. ‘Well, yes, I suppose there’s a call there for your sort of services – teaching fencing, I mean, not lawyering. I suppose,’ he added, ‘I’d better let Gannadius know about the offer. He’s younger than me and still ambitious, still has things he wants to do in the world. I’m sure I could concoct some post for him in one of the Order’s houses on the Island.’

  Loredan nodded. ‘That reminds me,’ he said. ‘I ought to tell my clerk, since she was included in the offer. Damn,’ he added. ‘Just when I thought I was going to get a chance to go to bed.’ He stood up, wincing at the stiffness in his joints. ‘If I do decide to go,’ he said awkwardly, ‘then I suppose – well, so long, Alexius. We could have known each other better under different circumstances, except that under different circumstances we’d never have got to know each other at all. Take care of yourself.’

  Alexius nodded. ‘And you,’ he said. ‘I have an unpleasant feeling at the back of my mind that I’ve interfered with your life to an extent that I’d never be able to put right if you stayed here. Maybe this business is someone or something putting it right. I’d like to think it was. If you decide to go, that is.’

  ‘I gather you think I should.’

  Alexius shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me,’ he said. ‘Another thing I can’t do is tell fortunes.’

  Shortly after Loredan had gone, the boy came back with wine and cakes for four. He put the tray down nevertheless, and asked if there was anything else.

  ‘Yes, if you’ll just wait a moment,’ Alexius said, his head bent over a writing tablet. ‘I want you to run down to the City Academy and give this to Archimandrite Gannadius, as quickly as you can. Give it to him and nobody else, please; tell him it’s important. Can you do that for me?’

  The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with the prospect of an excuse to get outside the walls for an hour or so. Shortly after he left, Alexius could hear him running down the stairs. Enthusiasm, he thought. I had some of that myself once. And look where it got me.

  Athli wasn’t at home, which was a nuisance. He hung around outside her house for half an hour or so feeling painfully conspicuous – I feel like a lovesick sixteen year old, and I didn’t even do this sort of thing when I was sixteen – and then gave up and headed for the baker’s shop on the corner, which was cautiously opening its shutters.

  ‘I know you, don’t I?’ said the woman in the shop as she handed him a freshly baked loaf stuffed with slices of cheese and bacon.

  Loredan nodded. ‘It’s possible,’ he said. ‘I used to work for the government.’

  ‘That’s it,’ the woman said, snapping her fingers. ‘Weights and measures. Didn’t you use to come round here checking weights and measures one time – oh, must be all of ten years ago now?’

  ‘Fancy you remembering that,’ Loredan replied, his mouth full of bread.

  The woman looked at him, and edged sideways in front of the shop scales. ‘You still doing that?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Loredan replied. ‘I just quit earlier today.’

  ‘Oh.’ The woman noticed his armour under his coat. ‘Got called up, did you?’ Loredan nodded. ‘It’s happening to everybody,’ she went on. ‘Damn shame, if you ask me.’

  Loredan nodded. ‘I blame the General,’ he said.

  ‘What, the one who got the push or the new one?’

  ‘Both,’ Loredan replied, putting his hand out for his change.

  He finished off the loaf outside the shop, then explored a little until he found an open tavern. He didn’t feel quite so tired now that he’d eaten something, and the idea of a drink was very attractive indeed. Eventually he located one, in a small, rather dismal place he hadn’t been to in years. It hadn’t changed a bit.

  ‘Guardsman,’ said the landlord, pouring pale cloudy cider into a grubby-looking horn mug. ‘Seen some action these last couple of days, I’ll bet.’

  ‘Enough to last me a while,’ Loredan replied, handing over a coin. ‘Your health.’

  He and the landlord were the only people in the place. Loredan remarked on this.

  ‘Don’t know why I bothered opening up,’ the landlord replied. ‘Nobody wants to venture out of the house, just in case the savages suddenly come running down the street. That’s not likely, is it?’ he added.

  Loredan shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me,’ he replied. ‘Last I heard they’d obviously had enough, after the General used that fire-oil stuff.’

  The innkeeper nodded. ‘Good work, that,’ he said. ‘And it’s about time the wizards did something to earn their keep. Night after night we had people in here asking, why don’t the wizards do something? Should’ve realised they’d keep the magic stuff in reserve for when it’d do most good.’

  ‘Fine man, the Patriarch,’ Loredan said.

  ‘His health,’ replied the innkeeper, tilting the mug he’d just filled. ‘If you ask me, though,’ he went on, lowering his voice, ‘there’s more to it than that.’

  Loredan’s face registered interest. ‘You reckon?’

  The landlord nodded. ‘I’ve heard it said that the Prefect and the General’ve been deliberately keeping old Alexius from doing anything, because it’s in their interest for the emergency to carry on as long as they can spin it out for.’

  ‘Get away.’

  ‘Just repeating what I been told,’ the landlord said. ‘Stands to reason, though; the two of them, running the whole city – because you’re not going to tell me the Emperor’s been running things all this while. My guess is they got him locked up somewhere.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Loredan said.

  ‘Too right it’s terrible. And now, soon as the bastards’ve been defeated, look what happens. The General gets the push, just like that. Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?’

  ‘Hm?’

  ‘Fallen out over dividing up the spoils,’ the landlord said. ‘My guess is, Colonel Whatsisface was getting a bit too greedy, trying to edge the Prefect out of the racket. And the next thing he knows – wham!’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ Loredan confessed. ‘Put that way, though, it does seem to make a lot of sense.’ He sipped his cider, which was horrible. ‘More sense than the other explanation, anyway.’

  ‘Take that business with the rope, now,’ the landlord went on. ‘Should’ve realised then what was going on. But you never think that sort of thing goes on, t
hough, do you?’

  ‘What business with the rope? I’ve been a bit out of things lately, remember.’

  ‘Oh, this was some time back,’ the landlord replied. ‘Seems that Colonel Whatever-he’s-called went around commandeering all the rope in the city, and then flogged it off cheap to all his buddy-buddies from the Island.’ He grinned knowingly. ‘If you ask me, that’s what this whole emergency’s been in aid of, right from where they made a muck of that cavalry raid. You’re not going to tell me we couldn’t have kicked those savages back where they come from if we’d have really been trying.’

  Loredan drank some more horrible cider. ‘I never did like that man’s face,’ he said. ‘Used to be a lawyer, of course.’

  ‘Well, that says it all, really. Same again?’

  ‘I think I’ll try the wine, thanks.’

  ‘House red? Or I got something a bit special, if you’d prefer.’

  ‘House red’ll do fine.’

  The wine, though horrible, was a degree less unspeakable than the cider, and Loredan stayed for a couple more, during which time he learnt a lot more about what had really been going on up the hill. Then he decided to go home, before the landlord’s booze achieved what Temrai and all his men hadn’t been able to. His way home led him past Athli’s house, and he decided to give it one last try. This time, she was in.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  She stared at him, and for a moment he almost believed she was about to jump into his arms. She didn’t.

  ‘Hello yourself,’ she replied. ‘They let you out, then.’

  ‘Time off for bad behaviour. I’ve got a message for you.’

  ‘Come in and have a drink,’ she said.

  He’d been in Athli’s house before, but that was some time ago. He’d forgotten how light and airy it was, with its white distempered walls and bright, cheerful tapestries, neat and well-made furniture, clean and dry floor. Of course there are people who live like this, he said to himself, people who like everything to be nice. If they had to live in a cave, they’d have some flowers in a jar to cheer the place up.

  He sat down in the chimney corner while Athli took down two silver cups from hooks over the fireplace and filled them from a jug. ‘What’s the message?’ she said, handing him one. ‘Something nice?’

  Loredan nodded. ‘Possibly. You remember those two types from the Island? Venart and Vetriz?’

  ‘How odd you should mention them. I was going to tell you about them in a minute.’

  ‘Well, they’ve offered us a free ride out of here,’ Loredan said. ‘Their ship leaves first thing tomorrow; if we want, we can be on it.’

  ‘Oh.’ Athli stood in front of the fire, holding her cup tightly. ‘Are you going?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Loredan sipped the wine; rather more like it, if a bit sweet for his taste. ‘I’m sorely tempted. What about you? And what were you going to say about those two?’ He leant forward a little. ‘You’ve obviously run into them again since I saw you last.’

  Athli nodded. ‘More than that,’ she said. ‘We’ve gone into business together.’

  ‘Good gods. How did that happen?’

  Athli explained, while Loredan listened very attentively. ‘I’m starting to wonder about those two,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘Seems like we can’t put our feet down recently without treading on them.’

  ‘I thought it was rather a coincidence,’ Athli agreed. ‘Anyway, what do you think?’

  ‘About their offer?’ Loredan bowed his head over his cup, staring into the dregs. ‘I told the Patriarch I wasn’t afraid of standing trial,’ he said. ‘I lied. I feel like I’ve been in one fight too many as it is. My father used to say, luck’s like a bloody great big rock balanced on a cliff above your house; doesn’t do to push it too hard.’ He shook his head. ‘Not that that means anything in this case. For instance, if I go, maybe there’ll be a storm that sinks the ship and I’ll drown, while if I’d stayed put I’d have lived to be a hundred. Which is making the assumption that I want to live to be a hundred,’ he added, ‘which I don’t. You thought about it yet?’ He looked round. ‘You’ve got something to leave behind,’ he said.

  ‘What, this?’ Athli laughed. ‘It’d have been nice to have a chance to sell it and get my money back, but the hell with it; basically, it’s just things.’

  ‘So you’re going, then?’

  ‘Don’t know.’ She looked up. ‘I will if you will.’

  Loredan felt uncomfortable. ‘There must be a few smilers’ worth of stuff in here,’ he said. ‘You seem to have a good eye for a bargain.’

  ‘Always the shrewd businesswoman,’ Athli replied briskly. ‘Talking of which-’ She hesitated, then went on, ‘Can I ask you a question? Personal question.’

  ‘Depends. You can try.’

  ‘All right.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Why is it,’ she said, ‘when you make ten times as much money as I do, you live like a pig and always seem to be broke? No offence, but it doesn’t make sense, mathematically. I’ve often wondered.’

  Loredan looked away and Athli thought, That’s done it, I’ve offended him now. But a moment later he turned back, and his expression was more or less the same.

  ‘I send a lot of money home,’ he said. ‘Maybe I mentioned before, I’ve got rather a large family. Three brothers and a sister – my parents are both dead now, but two of my brothers are still on the farm. I’ve been helping them out, when I can. I owe it to them, you see.’

  ‘Helping them out,’ Athli repeated.

  ‘That’s right. My father was a tenant, in a small way; actually, he was a peasant, strictly hand-to-mouth stuff, and with the landlord taking a sixth of everything off the top, it wasn’t exactly easy at the best of times. So I bought the land. Enough for all three of them to have a decent life. Like I said, it was the least I could do, all things considered.’

  Athli thought, It still doesn’t make sense; if the brothers got the farm and Bardas went off to make his way in the world, shouldn’t it have been the other way about? They got everything, and he started out with nothing. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘That explains it, I suppose. They must be pretty well off by now then, your brothers. The ones that stayed,’ she added.

  Loredan nodded. ‘They’re good farmers, by all accounts,’ he said. ‘Not that I hear from them very often. Anyway, that’s the answer to your question. Very mundane, very ordinary, no great mystery.’

  ‘You never talk about your family.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I don’t find them a very interesting topic of conversation. Is there any more of this wine, or are you saving it for your old age?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Athli said. ‘Please, help yourself.’ She waited until he’d filled his cup, then went on, ‘You aren’t thinking of going back there, then? Home, I mean, the farm.’

  Loredan shook his head. ‘Too much like work, living on a farm,’ he said. ‘Not to mention the smell, and goats in the living room. I’m too old to go to work.’

  ‘How about the Island, then? You decided?’

  ‘I think you should go,’ he replied. ‘I know we saw them off yesterday, but I’m pretty sure they’ll try again. And keep trying, till they get it right. I think the city will fall, and probably sooner rather than later.’

  In spite of herself, Athli was shocked; to hear him say it, quite casually, the thing that she and everybody else had been dreading while at the same time knowing, absolutely knowing, that it could never ever happen. ‘You really think so?’ was all she said.

  Loredan nodded. ‘You don’t realise how bloody close they came to it yesterday,’ he replied. ‘If it hadn’t been for the fire-oil, we’d none of us be here now. There’s so many of them; we simply hadn’t imagined there could be so many. And the things they’ve achieved; the engines, the organisation, everything. Last time I had anything to do with them, they were – well, I suppose I’d have to call them savages, though I don’t mean it the way most people do. They were primitive; like they didn’t want anything
more than what they’d always had, which is fair enough, at that.

  ‘Now they’re making things just as well as we can – don’t believe anybody who says they’ve bought them somewhere or been given them; that kid Temrai came here and set about learning how to make everything he needed to take this city. He’s absolutely amazing, that boy. He deserves to win, just as we-Anyway,’ he went on, ‘the only thing standing in his way is the fire-oil. If he can find a way of getting round that, we’re done for. Given what he’s achieved so far, I doubt it’ll take him too long. And even if he doesn’t, he’s got so many men he could just push straight through anything we can throw at him, provided he’s prepared to take the losses. And I think he is. He’s a good chief, but for some reason taking this city matters to him. I saw the way he kept bringing up engines after our trebuchets had just made firewood out of the previous wave. In the end it comes down to whether we’re as prepared to die for our city as they are to die for their chief. And on that basis, we’re stuffed.’

  Athli nodded slowly. ‘So you’re leaving,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t say I was.’

  ‘But if the city’s going to fall…’

  Loredan leant forward until he was very close to her. ‘I think you should go,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying this is your last chance or anything like that, though it’s got to be better than cramming onto a crowded refugee ship later, when they’re on the wall. I’d-’ He stopped, breathed in and out, started again. ‘I’d feel happier if I knew you were out of it. You’ve got a skill that’ll make you a living anywhere you go. You’ve even got friends on the Island now, you’d have no difficulty making a life for yourself. What have you got here, apart from all this nice furniture?’

  ‘I’ll go if you go,’ she said.

  He moved away, frowning. She wanted to reach out, but didn’t.