Everything was practically as we'd left it. Lupa and Estrada still sat in their respective places on the platform. Here as outside, the only difference was in the increased number of armed men spaced around the walls. Whether or not Lupa was really expecting some move on Alvantes's part, he certainly wasn't worried about giving the impression of distrust.
Yet his tone was hearty as he called, 'Guard-Captain, good to have you back. You've had ample time to consider, I trust?'
'I have,' replied Alvantes.
'And you've concluded, no doubt, that what is right for Mayor Estrada here, what's right for Mounteban and the people of Altapasaeda, is right for you too. You can return to your post — and so long as you keep yourself within the bounds of the new regime, your life can more or less return to what it was before all this… unpleasantness.'
Alvantes's face gave nothing away. 'Yes. A nice idea — in theory. What I'd like to know is what I can expect in practise. Do you have leave to talk terms on Mounteban's behalf?'
Lupa looked uncomfortable. 'Terms? Well… to a degree, of course.'
'A degree? Lupa, can you negotiate or not?'
'Certainly, if a little negotiation is called for, then…'
'If it's called for? If you're offering me a job, surely I've a right to discuss details?'
Despite my fears, despite all my doubts, it was hard not to enjoy the show Alvantes was putting on. Even he seemed to be warming to his part. I'd told him to keep the conversation going for as long as possible, but I was beginning to suspect he had far more in mind than that.
Lupa flicked sweat from his brow with a rubbery palm. 'Guard-Captain. The situation is one where compromise on your part is both expected and required. You must see that…'
'You must see that this arrangement of Mounteban's is one possibility amongst many. I have other options, Lupa.'
'But would those options be so beneficial to all involved?' Lupa made no effort to hide the sudden edge of danger in his voice. 'To the good folk of Altapasaeda, say, or to my lovely co-mayor?'
'I hope that wasn't a threat.'
'A threat? Aren't we simply discussing possibilities and their repercussions, as civilised men will?'
'Because,' continued Alvantes, 'the only good threat is one you can back up.'
As though on cue, a booming crash assailed the room. It came from the direction of the western walls, and resounded for a very long time. Even if I hadn't been expecting it, I'd have recognised the crunch of falling masonry.
Lupa almost jumped from his great seat. I watched his expression vacillate between horror and denial. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'you haven't noticed how many of my men surround you?'
Alvantes smiled — and if that smile chilled my blood, I could only imagine what effect it had on Lupa. 'It might take more than a few men.'
From outside came a beat like a hundred great drums pounding with no guiding rhythm. It was steady, and it was rapidly drawing nearer.
Lupa cocked his head towards it, his eyes round. 'Whatever it is you're doing, make it stop!'
Alvantes held his one hand up, palm out. 'I'm doing nothing.'
'Whatever that is…'
Outside, someone shouted. Another voice joined the first, and another. Then they were drowned out by the hammering swell of noise.
Just as it seemed about to overwhelm us, the cacophony abated. It was the briefest reprieve — barely enough for Lupa to begin a sigh of relief. A moment later, impacts resounded from all four walls, each deafeningly loud. A shiver ran through the floor, setting every man, every piece of furniture, quivering like a tuning fork.
'Damn you!' Lupa had to bellow to make himself heard. 'Stop this!'
'Stop what?' Alvantes looked perfectly, terrifyingly at ease amidst the chaos. Dust rained from the ceiling. Chunks of brick rolled in cascades from its edges, as if a great fist were closing around the building. Lupa's lackeys stumbled towards the centre, arms raised to shield their heads.
Then everyone looked skyward, all together.
Everyone except Alvantes and me. I didn't need to look. I knew the roof had begun to heave aside, buoyed upon a sea of massive hands. Instead, I pictured the scene outside in my mind's eye. Saltlick had brought only a quarter of the giants, the youngest and strongest. That still meant more than twenty, each twice the height of a man — and each more than capable of reaching the top of the walls.
Maybe some of Lupa's lackeys would attack them. I hoped against hope they'd be too afraid, but fear was as likely to make them dangerous and stupid. Perhaps swords would be unsheathed. Perhaps arrows would be loosed.
The giants were tough. I'd seen Saltlick shrug off wounds that would have felled a man on the spot. Every one of them had endured Moaradrid's battle against the Castovalians, and all the hardships that had followed. They would keep going. And if a mob of giants tearing the roof from a building was a chilling sight, how much worse if those giants seemed impervious to pain, oblivious to injury? Cowards — and the kind of men who followed a creature like Lupa were always cowards — would not fight an unwinnable fight for long.
At least, that was what I kept fervently telling myself.
'Make it stop! Agree to Mounteban's proposal!' screamed Lupa.
'I have an alternative proposal,' shouted Alvantes over the din of tumbling masonry. 'You and your men leave Muena Palaiya tonight.'
As he spoke, Alvantes began walking unhurriedly across the space between them. With each step, Lupa cowered deeper into his makeshift throne.
'You'll go back to Castilio Mounteban,' Alvantes continued, 'like the lapdog you are, and you'll carry him this message. Muena Palaiya is off limits. Soon, Altapasaeda will be too. Then there'll be no rock anywhere big enough to hide him.'
Alvantes stepped onto the low platform.
'Or, if that's all too much to remember, simply tell him this.'
One last step brought his face a hand's breadth from Lupa's.
'Tell him we're coming for him next.'
Abruptly, Lupa tumbled from his throne. It looked as though he'd tipped over in his panic — but in another moment, he'd dragged Estrada from her seat, and had a knife pressed to her neck. It was a short blade, hardly more than a stiletto. That didn't change the possibilities of what it would do to Estrada's throat.
'I'll kill her!' Lupa's voice was a squeak now, quite unlike his usual croak. The expression on his face was one of sheerest terror.
Alvantes made no move towards him. 'You won't,' he said. 'I know you, Lupa. You're gutless through and through.'
'Tell them to stop!'
'I couldn't if I wanted to.'
'I'll kill her.'
'No, you won't.'
Lupa twitched massively, as though lightning had jolted his rubbery body. Suddenly, the noise of the giants' impromptu demolition was gone, leaving weighty silence in its wake. Lupa's eyes swung up, acknowledged the naked rectangle of night sky above.
He dropped the knife. It clattered off the platform, spun, lay still. 'No,' he said. 'I won't.'
'Leave,' Alvantes told him. 'Take your men. If you're not gone in an hour…' Alvantes also turned his gaze upward, studied the cavity that until recently had been the roof. 'Well. That could just as easily have been your head.'
Lupa nodded ponderously, eyes not leaving the starspecked blackness overhead. For all his swollen bulk, he looked small before Alvantes. He climbed from the platform, with a grunt of exertion. When he stumbled towards the doors, his men fell in behind him. Every one looked petrified at the prospect of what awaited them outside — but no less scared at the prospect of staying to face this man who commanded monsters.
Perhaps they'd have been less afraid if they'd stayed to see the tenderness with which Alvantes held out his
