The Night of the Swarm

close in for the kill.’

‘But you did not lose the war.’

‘No, the Shaggat saved us then. His rise crippled the Mzithrin when they could least afford it, and gave us time to rebuild our forces. I did not fail — how they hated me for that! And even more so for not wishing to stab the wounded Mzithrin Empire through the heart when it was down. My peace emissaries were real, Isiq. Chadfallow’s mission to Babqri City was real. This half-century of madness need not have happened, this world need not today be so blighted and burned — if only thinking had been valued over tribalism and blind allegiances. Over unthinking service, as you say.’

She gazed up at the great flag over her chair. ‘I accept your declaration, Admiral. It is what I hoped for. But I could not possibly have let you know about my enterprise.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because if you had not joined that enterprise I would have fallen. One word from you to the Emperor would have sealed my fate. Magad has never ignored your warnings, Eberzam Isiq.’

‘And now that I am disgraced?’

‘But you are not disgraced,’ said Maisa. ‘You are presumed dead, and that is altogether different. As everyone in Alifros knows, you were last seen following the bearers of your daughter’s corpse through the streets of Simjalla, on Treaty Day. All was terror and confusion. Perhaps you were picked up and tortured by the Mzithrinis.’

‘I was tortured by Ott.’

‘Ah, but that is no tale to warm the hearts of Magad’s subjects. No, yours was a tragic death. If the Black Rags did not get you, then surely you collapsed of a broken heart, and were stripped of your wedding finery by a mob, and buried with the many beggars and tramps who perished that day. Or you returned to the Chathrand in secret, to accompany your beloved daughter to her final rest in Etherhorde, only to go down with the ship off Talturi. Such are the rumours in the capital.’

‘Ott said he would poison my name.’

‘Ott said whatever he thought would break you. But here is where fate has sided with us at long last. The Secret Fist truly believes that you are dead. How that miracle was accomplished I would very much like to know. I gather it has something to do with that plague of rats?’

Isiq closed his eyes a moment.

‘Never mind, never mind. Why would the Secret Fist pillory a dead man whom the Empire adores? Why waste a hero, when his death can provoke such a frenzy of patriotism? Magad did quite the opposite: he lionised you. He sent his own son, blind Prince Misoq, to the temple to pray for your soul. There is a bust of you already in the Naval Academy-’

Isiq looked up. She has a spy in the Academy!

‘-and when they open the little garden commemorating the wreck of the Chathrand, there is to be a tribute to you engraved in stone. You are still their tool, Isiq. You cannot escape them even in death.’

Isiq’s breath had grown shorter as she spoke. He was slipping. He should have foreseen everything Maisa had just told him. Great heroes like Magad needed the shoulders of lesser heroes to lift them up.

‘As for involving your daughter in my plans, that is quite absurd,’ said the Empress. ‘Sandor Ott and Arunis manipulated your family, Isiq. Ott selected Thasha to be the sacrificial bride; Arunis turned the plot to his favour.’

‘Ramachni does not serve you?’

‘Oh for Rin’s sake. His mistress was the great Erithusme, and none other. I haven’t the least idea what your daughter is to him. Mages guard their secrets as fiercely as monarchs, it appears. Ramachni came to me a decade ago and begged for help in guarding her. “I need a man of flawless honesty,” he told me, “but a fighter, too, and a thinker.” “Why not ask for a demigod and be done with it,” I said. All the same I gave him my right arm: Hercol of Tholjassa, and sorely have I missed the man.’

‘You must have suspected that there was more at stake than the life of one girl.’

‘Of course I did. And now I’m sure of it: Suthinia Pathkendle has been able to verify that much merely by watching her children’s dreams. Your daughter is somehow extraordinary, Isiq. Erithusme herself was the first to notice.’

Isiq looked at her dubiously.

‘I know,’ said the Empress. ‘You thought Erithusme was a figure out of fairy tales. But she was as real as Arunis, and indeed more powerful. Suthinia tells me she owned the Chathrand outright, long before the ship passed into Arquali hands. What’s more, the mage came to Etherhorde less than a year before Thasha’s birth. Don’t ask why: Suthinia doesn’t know, and Ramachni never breathed a word about it.’

‘You never had plans for her? For Thasha, I mean?’

Maisa shook her head. ‘None at all. Though I was practically the only one in Alifros without them.’

‘And now?’

Maisa looked at him a moment, then stepped to the wall and pulled on a rope. Isiq heard no bell, but moments later a servant appeared. ‘Rum,’ said the Empress. ‘Two glasses. The better stuff, the Opaltine.’

When the servant was gone she looked back at Isiq. ‘This is a special occasion. I have a small fortune in liquors, here, for my guests. One must try to keep up appearances. But I almost never drink. This will be the first time since early Umbrin.’

‘I am flattered that Your Imperial Majesty chooses to make an exception for me — with me.’

‘And were you impressed with Gregory and his freebooters?’

‘I have never been more masterfully smuggled.’

She gave a sudden laugh. ‘He is good at what he does. His buffoonery is an act, and so is his selfishness. He may not much care for Arqual or its fate, but he cares very much about his own beloved Ormael — so near at hand, and yet closed to him for ever. That is true patriotism: to go on loving the land that spits you out, reviled. They still call him Gregory the Traitor there, you know. But Gregory Pathkendle is also a man of vision. He married Suthinia, and he knew when to leave her. I began to court his help at Suthinia’s urging, and little by little I gave him my trust. Of course that culminated with Treaty Day.’

‘And your visit to Simja,’ said the admiral. ‘I remain astounded that you hazarded so much, merely to show your face to a handful of princes.’

‘Can you really believe that was all?’

When Isiq said nothing, she waved a dismissive hand. ‘Soon enough, soon enough. Gregory came through brilliantly, that’s what counts. And yet there was still a chance that he was helping us for purposes strictly his own: revenge, maybe? Revenge on the Empire that had burned Ormael? Even after he returned me safely to these Fens, I thought that might be the case. Now of course we may dispense with that particular theory.’

‘Why is that, Your Highness?’

‘Because he had you under his thumb for a week. If he wanted revenge for that bloody massacre he would have started with you.’

Isiq flushed. Perhaps he always would at the mention of Ormael.

‘Gregory is of course just one of my operatives. As this is just one of my strongholds. It has all been excruciatingly slow. How could it be otherwise, when a single betrayal would end it?’ She looked at him, chin high, and her gaze was bright and steady. ‘We are almost there, Isiq. Almost ready to strike.’

The admiral nodded, but his eyes flicked away. Nine hundred soldiers. Perhaps this was all a great vanity, an old queen’s way of jeering at death.

‘Your Majesty,’ he said (for one had to say something, before the silence did), ‘when did you learn that I was alive?’

‘Nine or ten weeks ago,’ she said. ‘King Oshiram informed me, of course.’

And was that, Isiq wondered, when you had your last drink?

‘I decided then and there to give my trust to Oshiram,’ she said. ‘I have not rued the decision. He was a fool to let himself be played so long by the Secret Fist, but it was hope for peace that tempted him, and to that temptation only the noblest yield. Besides, he will not be played again. As with you, his pride has been deeply stung.’

Maisa paused again, considering. Then she said, ‘He did it, you know. He put Syrarys in jail.’