fleeting across the Wasp’s face: surprise. Of course, in the Empire, it was orders or nothing, and men lived or died by the whims of their superiors. That was what Jodry had always understood, and it was interesting to see it confirmed in these present circumstances. ‘Look, boy, I admit that, since the war, the student body has never been so diverse — Solarnese, Ancient Leaguers, Tseni, all manner of curios turning up at our gates looking for their accredits. Spies, some of them — but there is a school of thought saying that showing a spy that we are a benevolent, humanistic society that believes in equality and opportunity for all is by no means a wasted practice. It worked with Sarn, after all. However, and despite the recent alliance, no Vekken youth has applied to study here, and wisely so, for the wounds are still fresh from their most recent attempt to subjugate us. Not quite so fresh as the wounds your Second Army made when they camped outside our walls.’
He looked from face to face: Leadswell’s dark features, Averic’s exotic pallor. Both were waiting for the strike, so that they could parry and riposte in kind.
‘I know a little about how matters work within the Empire. One central authority over corps, armies, Auxilians, slaves. A place for everyone, hm? So what am I to think? That you’re a renegade or you were sent? You’ll appreciate how the situation out east makes the question pertinent, and I’m not surprised that you find it hard to walk down a street in this city without being called out.’
Leadswell opened his mouth again, but Averic just said, ‘I was sent, sir. But I was sent by my family. Do you think nobody in the Empire looks over at Collegium and wonders, What is their secret strength? But I am not a spy. There are those in the Empire who believe that the future may bring us to terms with the Lowlands — with Collegium therefore. What better adviser and ambassador than one who has studied with you? Would you not have some scion of yours serve in the Imperial army, if he could?’ The boy’s voice was careful: not fierce with sincerity, nor hesitant with doubt.
‘It’s a pleasant enough thought,’ Jodry allowed, bringing all his scrutiny to bear, but finding the Wasp’s features impossible to read. The boy’s hands were fists, he saw, clenched tight, but none of that made it to his face. ‘You must admit that the future you describe seems unlikely just now.’
Averic shrugged. ‘I hope for better, sir. That the war between our peoples is not finished seems unarguable, but all wars eventually end. My family have made an investment. They are soldiers, as all our people are, but they are merchants also.’
‘Leadswell, I recall you from the end-of-year debates,’ Jodry noted. ‘You spoke very well in favour of just such a future as young Averic describes. You lost, however. The judges were unkind, perhaps.’
Eujen Leadswell took a steadying breath, neither of them feeling it necessary to mention that Jodry had been one of those judges. ‘Master Drillen, you asked why I came. Do I fear for my friend under Collegium justice? No, for he has broken no laws. But any man may call him a spy, and I do not trust that the law would be swift enough to save him. You talk of our educating spies about our cultural superiority. Averic has been shown precious little of that, Master Drillen. What report do you think he would give of us if he returned home now?’
‘That we were more like his people than he had thought,’ Jodry snapped, nipping the oratory in the bud. ‘Do you envy the lot of an Imperial’s life — and I mean that of our kinden there, who do well enough as the Empire goes? Do you think it is some grand lie that suggests the Empire is a cruel regime that makes cities into slaves and slaves into corpses?’
‘I think that it is our duty as Collegiate men to do all we can to change the Empire, Master Drillen,’ Leadswell shot right back, and Padstock tensed, for the lad was abruptly leaning over Jodry’s desk towards him, all awe at the office of Speaker forgotten. ‘But I think that if we treat them as nothing but a threat, then we shall create our own future. Also, I know him. He is my friend. I choose to trust him. He is no spy.’
Averic’s face was very set, but Jodry wondered if he detected some suppressed emotion there, even if only the eyes were a party to it. ‘And when the Empire comes to us with armies and not with words?’ he asked. ‘How will you meet them, then?’
Leadswell stepped back, his face bitterly displaying the thought, So, you think I’m a traitor, too. ‘As I did last time they came, Master Drillen. When Tynan’s Second was at our gates, I was loading artillery on the wall.’
‘And you?’ Jodry’s gaze swept towards Averic, meeting that lack of expression head on. Before the Wasp’s silence became awkward, Arvi opened the door with another Fly accompanying him, a woman in a grey robe that was decidedly not Collegium standard.
‘Mistress te Mosca,’ Jodry observed. He had wanted this interview but, now it was cut short, he found that he was relieved. For Leadswell is right, of course, from a certain point of view — right and yet too late. That ship sailed before the Wasps put us to the siege the last time.
‘Master Drillen.’ Sartaea te Mosca was not a full Master of the College, but a mere associate. Still, she had been hired to head a department left vacant, and one that nobody else wanted. She taught Inapt studies, as the College preferred to refer to the mysticism and flummery that surrounded the ways of the old Moth-kinden. She was a young lecturer, but a few decades amongst the Moths at Dorax had given her a curiously ageless air, which in Jodry’s experience persisted even after she had downed close on her bodyweight in imported spirits. She had also taken a keen interest in Averic and Leadswell and all their little clique, and was sociable enough to have garnered a certain fondness amongst the College Masters.
‘Mistress te Mosca,’ Jodry repeated. ‘These two lads appear to have found their way to my study. Would you perhaps ensure they reach their lodgings?’
She studied him, testing her Moth-taught inscrutability against his professional regard, and breaking first, into a slight, submissive smile. ‘I’d be delighted to, Master Speaker.’
She turned to go, the two students lagging behind, and Jodry tapped his pen on the desk for their attention. ‘One more thing, young Leadswell. I know it is always a fine thing to imagine yourself the rebel, fighting for a grand cause against the ignorance and prejudice of many. Believe me, Stenwold Maker traded on that for decades, and you might want to think about that. However, I trust that in your social history classes they still teach the rivers hypothesis? That no society travels all one way, dances to a single tune, but there are mingled flows, so on, so forth? Did you see the play The Officer’s Mistress?’
Leadswell frowned at him, shaking his head, knowing the trap was there, but unable to see where Jodry was going with this.
‘Too late now, then. It closed after four nights. Full houses, too. A grand shame. Set during the war, don’t you know? Some piece of business about the Empire in the second and fourth acts.’
‘I don’t understand, Master Drillen,’ Leadswell admitted.
‘The theatre owner brought the curtain down,’ Jodry explained gently. ‘Not healthy, you see, to be associated with something that’s making fun of the Empire, for all that the commons rush to laugh. After all, you never know who your patrons might be next year. You never know who’s making a list right now. You might want to think about that.’
Arvi would, left to his own devices, have escorted the two students from Drillen’s chambers coldly and without ceremony, to let them know just what the establishment of the Assembly thought of them, as interpreted by himself, the Speaker’s secretary. However, they were accompanied by Sartaea te Mosca, who was a Fly-kinden teaching at the College, and Arvi had an entirely intentional double standard when it came to his own people. Those who had made enough of themselves to become respectable always found a friendly reception at the Speaker’s offices. Besides, Arvi was now, in his own estimation, sufficiently advanced in society to start casting around for his own dynasty, and attractive and influential Fly women were always worth keeping on the right side of.
The two youths looked shaken, as well they might, but te Mosca’s admirable presence was calming them, and Arvi indicated to her, by a careful nod and a twitch of an eyebrow, that he would give them all a moment to settle themselves before turning them out of doors. Her smile, in return, was small but elegant, and Arvi made careful adjustments to the mental list of eligibility that he carried constantly in his mind. He considered whether offering a little warmed-over wine might be appropriate, but no doubt the students would want some too, in which case the only appropriate offering would have to be an insultingly poor vintage. Associating with the student body at all, in fact, seemed to indicate a flaw, in this woman’s judgement. He frowned to himself and annotated his list further.
At that moment a Beetle-kinden woman burst in, the doorman actually running after her in an attempt to restrain her.
‘I need to see the Speaker right now!’ she snapped, heedless of the other visitors. Even as Arvi rushed at her, hands up to implore discretion, she was saying, ‘No! Get out of my way, you bloody functionary. That maniac Gripshod is going to blow up the whole city if somebody doesn’t stop him…’
