‘Pour me another shot before you leave,’ I said. ‘Straight up this time.’
46
Lord Charles Monck was a handsome, dignified man a few years older than I was. His hair was slate gray, but he had a broad chest and a youthful face. He looked like the sort of person you’d want in charge of the Empire – which, for most of the population, was far more important than actually being capable of running it.
Egmont, by contrast, looked very much the worst I’d seen him. He’d forgotten to comb his hair, or he’d simply undone his good work at some point during the day. His face was pale as curdled milk, and he was staring at me in a fashion that a man of weaker ego might find wounding. I assumed it had something to do with the letter I’d sent that morning, the letter that had in fact prompted the meeting that was about to begin.
It had read:
Egmont,
I know everything. At midnight, so will Black House. Should this possibility fail to meet with your approval, I’ll be at your chapter house this evening at seven. Be there, and ensure your boss is as well.
After making sure of Wren’s exit, I’d found a room at a nearby inn, slept for about twelve hours. I’d woken up feeling worse, feeling so old and tired I could barely keep my head up. It was small comfort to know that I wouldn’t need to do so much longer. I’d spent the rest of the morning and the following afternoon chain smoking and trying to maintain that state of inebriation wherein tomorrow seems very distant, but unslurred speech is still a possibility. Around sunset I realized I’d overshot the mark, but I managed to right myself with the aid of a few vials of breath. I copped two more of these off a Tarasaighn on the way over to the Steps’ headquarters. A member of my own stable, curiously. He was selling me what I’d sold him, at about a sixty-percent markup.
We were in a room in the chapter house that I’d never seen. They’d searched me before I’d come in, a thorough but not undignified pat-down. The Steps were big on gravitas.
‘I was sorry to hear about your bar,’ Monck opened smoothly.
‘Don’t be. I was the one who burned it.’
‘And why would you do something like that?’
‘I felt overburdened by the weight of my own possessions. Wanted to make a clear break.’
‘How profound.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Normally, I don’t interfere with Egmont’s activities. He has my … utmost respect.’
‘Clean hands are a valuable commodity.’
‘But he says that you insisted my presence was necessary for this meeting to take place.’
‘I didn’t want to have to go over everything twice.’
‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’m here.’
I rolled a cigarette overslow, playing out each motion with unnatural deliberateness. ‘It actually wasn’t a bad plan,’ I said finally.
‘Excuse me?’ Monck answered.
‘But you got carried away. Lack of subtlety, that’s the first mark of an amateur.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t follow.’
‘I can run through it, if that would make you feel better. But then again, we don’t have a lot of time – it might be best to skip to the end.’
‘Humor me.’
I lit my cigarette. ‘You’ve been playing the long game against the Old Man. Slipping your people into Black House, doing what you can to wrong-foot him. At some point you made contact with the Nestrians. Your politics align vaguely, I suppose, and the enemy of my enemy and all that. They sent over a ringer, one of their top people, an old hand with deep roots in Rigus.’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s been a few years, but I’m sure Albertine still had plenty to tell you about Black House, about the weaknesses in the organization. She might even have pointed you at an … acquaintance of hers, the Old Man’s former protege.’
‘She thought you might be of some value to us.’
‘She’s a sharp one – how much of it was hers?’
‘Some of it.’
Most of it, if I had to make a guess. ‘You needed a convenient excuse to make contact with me. You’d learned about Coronet from Albertine – it was her great coup, after all. And you’ve got enough ears south of the Old City to let you know about our sudden rash of murders, and about this new drug that had made its way onto the market. How am I doing so far?’
‘Well enough.’
‘It took me a while to figure out why, if you were all so concerned about project Coronet, you made a half-wit like Hume your point-man. But the answer was staring me in the face – you didn’t care about Coronet, not really. Even if the red fever was some master plan on the part of the Old Man, it wouldn’t go into effect quickly enough to upset your plans.’
‘Coronet has never been our primary concern,’ Monck confirmed.
‘But while I was running around chasing leads, I stumbled upon all sorts of exciting secrets – secrets you knew I’d be passing on to the Old Man. Harribuld was your test case. Was he a complete patsy, or was he really working for you?’
Egmont fielded this one. ‘We’re always keeping our ears out for useful information. Harribuld didn’t have much to offer, but we paid him a few ochres a month.’
‘And all he had to do to earn it was get murdered,’ I smirked. ‘Anyway. You marched him past me the first time I visited, waited for me to tell the Old Man about it, waited for the Old Man to kill him. When that happened, you figured the game was on. You knew Black House was desperate to plug their leak, find out which of their people were secretly yours. And, lo and behold, last time I was in Egmont’s office, I came across information pointing to five honest agents, trussed up as traitors. If the Old Man had bought that, you’d have continued feeding me false information, watched as Black House started amputating its own limbs. Did I miss anything?’
Egmont and Monck looked at each other for a moment. ‘Not really,’ Monck answered, turning back to me.
‘A little over-clever, but not altogether a bad plan. The product of an impressively crooked mind, if I dare say so.’
‘Thanks,’ Egmont said, though he didn’t altogether seem to mean it.
‘Except the Old Man is more so – and he never bought any of it, not for a moment. You aren’t playing him, he’s playing you. He figured your scam out from the beginning, as soon as he discovered Albertine was whispering in your ear.’
‘We didn’t know he knew.’
‘You should always assume the opposition knows more than you think they do. If the Old Man is the opposition, assume he knows everything that you know, and a little bit more besides.’
‘He went along with it well enough,’ Egmont jabbed.
‘You mean because he killed Harribuld?’ I shook my head in bewilderment, only half-feigned. ‘By the Scarred One, how you gonna play the game, you can’t even read the score? Harribauld hasn’t been of any use for a decade. Making him disappear didn’t weaken Black House one fragment. All it did was get you over-confident, left me free to pursue my real purpose.’
‘Which was?’
‘What you don’t seem to have realized is that your secret weapon can be turned against you. Albertine is a foreign spy. If anyone could prove you’ve had contact with her, you’d all be swinging from a gibbet before the week’s out.’
‘But no one can,’ Egmont hissed. ‘The Old Man’s suspicions aren’t hard evidence.’
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘But her location would be.’
Egmont’s composure shed like dead skin. ‘What does that mean?’
I turned my attention towards him. ‘You should have been more careful when you went to see her.’
‘Bullshit.’ It was the first time I’d ever heard Egmont swear. More evidence, if it was needed, that he was losing it. ‘You don’t know anything.’
I rattled off her address, enjoyed the effect hearing it had on the Director. His face went red, an unattractive contrast with his outfit.
‘I’m hearing a lot of talk about secrets,’ Egmont said, coming
on heavy to make up for his moment of weakness. ‘It occurs to me that if you weren’t around anymore, this would cease to be a concern of ours.’
‘If you were thinking of offing me, you should have done it before I was in a room with you and your boss.’
‘I’ve got four very large men stationed outside this room.’
‘If they were inside, that might even worry me.’
‘We searched you before you came in.’
I dropped the blade in my sleeve out into my hand, made a little flourish. ‘Not well enough.’
Egmont recoiled about three inches. Not so far, but then again we had a desk between us.
Monck didn’t move, though – didn’t so much as blink. ‘There’s no need for threats between friends,’ he said finally, nodding towards Egmont but keeping his eyes on me.
‘Friends, exactly.’ The knife went back into its sheath. ‘And as your friend, let me give you a piece of advice. This game you’re playing with Black House – you aren’t going to win it.’
‘No?’
‘No. The Old Man’s slowed some, but your crew is only half-professional at best. Egmont bungled his play with Albertine. If the Old Man knew what I know, he could move on you this very moment, crush you beneath his boot heel, all under the full color of law.’
‘And why doesn’t he?’
‘I’d assumed that much was obvious. It’s because I’m not on the Old Man’s side.’
‘You’re on ours?’
‘I’m very much not on his.’
Monck took an ashtray out of his desk, then passed it over. ‘You seem to be working yourself up to a suggestion.’
I rubbed out what little was left of my smoke. ‘I assume you have a plan in case they move against you. An uprising within the city, a strike on Black House and whatever ministers you think will back it. Probably an attempt to, shall we say, safeguard the King? Perhaps even spirit him away to a location in which a careful watch can be kept on his well-being?’
‘We have contingencies for every eventuality.’
‘Good. Activate it tonight.’
Egmont bristled. ‘Madness – our strength grows daily. We’ve got the votes in parliament, and thanks to your recent activities, Black House is short its top heavy.’
‘I admit – the board seems weighted in your favor. But you’re missing the critical point.’
‘Which is?’
‘You aren’t as smart as the Old Man – you aren’t nearly. And you don’t have his resources, and it’s always easier to hold on to something than it is to take it outright. You think your success is the result of your own abilities – I think it’s a fluke, that he’ll find a way to even it out if you give him the time.’
‘That’s an … interesting assessment,’ Monck said, in a way that almost made me think he didn’t really believe it.
‘Thank you.’
‘However, I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with the Director. To move on Black House at this stage would be … premature.’
‘But I haven’t dropped my trump yet.’
Monck shot me a smile somewhere between mocking and placating. ‘By all means, continue.’
‘I can give him to you. Wrapped up in a pretty little bow. Without the Old Man to lead the resistance, you might even have a shot at pulling it off. Assuming you don’t dally your way to the gallows.’
‘What do you mean, you can give him to us?’
‘I mean that I can arrange to have the Old Man arrive at a time and place of my choosing, and I can arrange to have him unguarded when he does.’
Suddenly the room got very serious. Monck and Egmont spent a while staring at each other as if trying to transmit information through their eyeballs.
‘Also, I can ensure his second-in-command becomes yours.’
Egmont bristled.
‘Or your third, if you’re really so attached to the Director. Or, hell, you can put an ax in the back of his head, if you’re that thick with blood lust. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. Co-opting Guiscard might save you from outright war with the remainder of Black House.’ But I didn’t actually think that. Guiscard wasn’t really the Old Man’s number two, not in the sense that he could order anyone else in the shop around. The Old Man was not one to share the reins.
‘And why would you do this for us?’ Monck asked. ‘Is it simply hate?’
‘Don’t underestimate hate – it’s kept me going for half my lifetime. But no, that’s not the only reason. You’re going to do something for me, Lord Monck.’
‘And what is that exactly?’
‘Albertine,’ I said. ‘You’re going to give me Albertine.’
Egmont didn’t say anything, but then Egmont was no longer really a factor, hadn’t been since midway through the conversation. Monck seemed to think so too, which is why before saying anything to me he turned towards his Director of Security and said, ‘If you would give us a moment.’
No one likes being sent to the kiddies’ table, though I think Egmont minded less than he might have. When the door had closed Monck looked at me for a while. I could feel the weight of the man’s pupils on me. They would have held down a sheet of paper.
‘You know,’ he began finally. ‘I’ve been hoping we’d meet for a while now.’
‘It’s a bit late in the day for flattery.’
‘Not flattery. Albertine filled us in on the backstory. That you’d risen from street urchin to become the Old Man’s number two. That if things had gone a different way, I’d be playing this chess game against you, instead of him.’
‘You’re playing it against me right now – or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘All that work, and you end up right back where you started.’ He shook his head slowly, as if in sympathy. ‘And all because of a woman. You must hate her very much.’
‘I hate a lot of people,’ I said. ‘It gets hard to keep track. As it happens, there’s something I’d like to ask you as well.’
He made a friendly sort of gesture with his hand. ‘By all means.’
‘Are you a fanatic, or a hypocrite?’
‘Those are my only two options?’
‘A hypocrite, then.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘A fanatic would have gotten angry.’
His smile reminded me of the Old Man’s. It had no meaning, it was just something to do with his face. ‘I believe in the fundamental tenets upheld by the Sons of Śakra.’
‘Not like Hume believes them, though.’
‘It isn’t required of Brother Hume that he gaze upon the larger picture. Brother Hume is lucky that way, I am not. But don’t think my convictions false – the country requires a moral regeneration.’
‘That’s the task you’ve set yourself? The moral regeneration of the Empire? You’ll have an easier time grasping the scepter.’
‘Gaining power is only the first step.’
‘Power isn’t something you sit on, it’s something you chase after. And it moves fast – if you want to hold onto it, you’d better not burden yourself with anything as heavy as decency.’
‘I would think that a man with your background would appreciate what’s required of someone, if they hope to make a change.’
‘What is it with you would-be tyrants – it’s not enough to rule the world, you want to be coddled for your megalomania?’ I shook my head. ‘I reserve my pity for the people that get caught beneath your tread.’
‘No grand enterprise ever succeeded without sacrifice.’
‘Not yours, though. Never yours.’
‘Someone needs to be in charge.’
‘Seeking the position ought to disqualify you from holding it.’ I found myself wanting a hit of breath very badly, but didn’t think it would go down well with Lord Monck, however tarnished his ethics had become. ‘You don’t need to sell me on anything – I don’t care why you want what you want, don’t even care what you’ll do once you get it. You’re a tool to me, like I am to you.’
&
nbsp; ‘And what will you use me for?’
‘To make sure the Old Man suffers, before he dies.’
‘And Albertine? What do you want with her?’
‘I’d like to take her to tea. I’d like to string her up by her thumbs and let the hounds loose on her. I’d like to hear her thoughts on a tapestry I’ve recently acquired. What does it matter to you, Lord Monck? I’m giving you the world in exchange for one member of it. A fair price, I think we can both agree.’
‘Albertine has … done us good service. The Sons are unused to betraying our allies.’
‘No grand enterprise ever succeeded without sacrifice.’
He didn’t flinch, but he blinked in a flinch-like fashion.
‘I’m not interested in debating morality. You’ve heard my proposal – we both know you’ll accept it. There’s moves to be made. Feigning righteousness is a waste of everyone’s time.’
He folded his fingers together, gazed up at the ceiling, gave every impression of being deep in thought. ‘Where should I send her?’
‘Low Town,’ I told him. ‘Low Town is where it ends.’
47
The first thing I’d done after coming into the house was to shut all the lanterns save the one nearest the entrance. The second thing I’d done was take a seat in the darkness, light a cigarette and get to waiting. There was no point in being antsy, not this late in the game.
And yet, as I watched the door swing open I felt a moment of terror so exquisite that I had to stop myself from screaming. I’d been seeing her face in my head for ten years. In sweet repose, in mocking laughter, in reconciliation and crushed beneath my boot heel. The genuine article was something of a shock.
‘Hello, Albertine.’
I wasn’t sure if she recognized my voice, but she at least recognized it wasn’t Monck’s.
I flicked open the shutter on the lantern next to me. ‘Don’t try and run,’ I said. ‘I can’t guarantee the men outside will be gentle in subduing you.’
I was obviously not who she was expecting. But she was a professional, and the first thing a professional learns is that they will, at some point, die in the service of their country. She took a long, deep breath, and closed her eyes. They were dry when she opened them.
She Who Waits (Low Town 3) Page 35