Wartorn Obliteration

gone, and the day's drizzle misted down through shafts of drab daylight.

The old ash made a grimy paste where it was wet, and the interior reeked still of the burning, of scorched grain and seared wood. But there was a corner where it was dry, and it was where Bryck waited while Aquint was brought inside.

Quentis waited with Bryck under the intact segment of the roof. She gave him a reassuring look as they both heard the footsteps shuffling toward the granary's entryway. And Bryck was reassured by that look. It meant that she had faith in him. It meant more than that probably, meant emotions and affections that he could not—would not—take for granted. Once, with Aaysue, he could have made assumptions; now...

He and Quentis had made love only the one time. So far. That was how it felt, that the first occasion would lead inevitably to others, that Quentis wanted it that way. The two of them might be at the start of something. But by the sanity of the gods, what did he want?

He didn't know. Or if he did, he wasn't telling himself what it was.

With a silent self-disgusted sigh and a somewhat strained return smile to Quentis, Bryck turned his attention toward the trio of figures entering the abandoned structure. The Circle had sentries watching the granary's perimeter, and Bryck had received warning that they were approaching. He had also been assured that they weren't being followed. He was pleased with the efficiency with which everyone was operating. The Broken Circle, it seemed, was becoming a tight, able little group.

As they picked their way over the interior rubble, Deo and Radstac pressing their blindfolded charge between them, Bryck's first impression of the Internal Security officer was of a man in a state of high dudgeon. His second impression was that this fellow Aquint wasn't afraid, not in the most obvious sense anyway. He was keeping cool, waiting to see what happened. Deo pulled back the hood of Aquint's cloak, and with a neat tug, undid the blindfold over the man's eyes. They had put it on him to make him less likely to offer up any resistance.

Radstac and Deo had led him here through a serpentine route of unused alleys. Now they let Aquint go, both stepping back, Deo's crossbow at the ready and Radstac no doubt set to pounce lethally if their erstwhile chief made an untoward move. Aquint blinked repeatedly but didn't lift a hand to rub his eyes.

Bryck gazed at him a long, silent moment. Water dripped in a tireless patter from the semi-demolished roof.

Aquint's pique finally won out over his cautious reserve. 'You're the Minstrel.' He said it, voice rasping over the name; he did not ask it.

Bryck stared levelly, standing a few paces off, glad now that he'd chosen to show this man his face. It felt proper. 'Yes,' he said.

'I've waited a long time to meet you,' Aquint said, then let out a breath that deflated him noticeably. Just as quickly, he drew himself back up. There was fast calculation in the man's eyes. 'If you wanted me dead, you'd have killed me back there. Like you did Cat.'

Bryck couldn't quite check the frown that creased his brow or the flicker of his eyes toward Deo, standing behind on Aquint's right. According to the Circle's two new recruits, Cat was Aquint's deputy or some such. Deo lifted his shoulders slightly at Bryck.

'We would have already killed you,' Bryck agreed. Aquint was looking for an edge in this somewhere, he sensed.

Aquint nodded, then deliberately folded his arms across his chest, adopting a nonchalant stance. 'Then— and I'm just guessing here, of course—I suppose when you finish making whatever revolutionary speech you feel compelled to make to me, one who so insidiously collaborates with the hated Felk, you might get around to telling me what in all the bleeding gods you want from me.'

This time Bryck managed to check a smile. It was an impressive display of bravado, particularly under the circumstances. Bryck indulged himself with a glance toward Quentis, standing several steps away. In her amber eyes he again sought and found reassurance.

'We know about you what your two former agents know about you,' Bryck said to Aquint, tone frank, not belligerent. 'You've been assigned by Abraxis, a powerful Felk lord and mage, to seek out dissent in Callah. You like this assignment. You want to keep it as long as possible. You're not Felk yourself, and you have no genuine loyalty to the empire. But you'll go along with this, finding and arresting rebels here in Callah, so long as it serves your ends. You are a collaborator, but the Felk haven't won you over. You're interested only in your personal gain and well-being—and perhaps that of your youthful partner. You're not loyal to the Felk, because you have no loyalty to give.'

It didn't appear to faze Aquint. But if he was the kind of man Bryck had just accused him of being, he wouldn't react to such an allegation. Bryck considered another course.

'Are you curious as to how your two associates so quickly became our confederates?' Bryck asked.

Aquint's lips moved sourly. He glanced behind at Deo. 'I'm not entirely surprised about this one. From the start I sensed something weak in him.' He turned about the other way, eyed Radstac. 'But her—that is startling. I'm not disappointed, mind you. But I'd figured her for the smart one. And joining up with your wretched little band isn't a smart move.' His gaze swung forward once more and settled wryly on Bryck. 'You're going to be hunted down, however many of you there are, and Jesile's going to have your heads taken off. You and the gods know how many innocent Callahans. Yours is a sorry cause.'

Behind him Radstac showed no response, but Deo's teeth bared in an ugly grimace.

Bryck nodded. 'Well, now we've both made our speeches.'

Aquint sniffed an involuntary laugh at that. They were equal adversaries. Perhaps that gave them all the common ground they needed to communicate. And Bryck did wish to communicate.

So he told Aquint how Radstac and Deo had joined with the Broken Circle.

It was, in the main, Quentis's doing. Rumors had spread about a new pair of troubadours in the city, ones very blatantly singing songs of dissent against the Felk. The songs themselves were spreading as well, rather infectious tunes with clever provocative lyrics, one or two of which Bryck nonetheless recognized as traditional songs that had been revamped to new purposes.

He dispatched Quentis to investigate. She had easily enough located the tavern where they were going to play last night—which led Bryck to wonder how this duo was operating with seeming impunity in a city where the Felk came down brutally on signs of defiance. But he wanted to meet these two. He had thoughts of persuading them to perform songs even more inflaming, calling directly for an uprising of the Callahan people. The giant sigil on the wall of the Registry—since painted over, of course—had had an effect. So had that execution in the square. The people were stirred.

Quentis had observed the performance, then approached the two musicians and proposed a rendezvous. Then she exited the tavern.

Deo followed her out. But Quentis wasn't alone. Ondak, her older cousin, had gone along and waited outside the establishment. When Deo eagerly rushed after her, Ondak stepped from his nook and seized the vox- mellifluous. Radstac had come out into the street pursuing Deo, but by then Ondak had a cleaver to his throat. It was sufficient to induce Radstac not to act hastily. Ondak quickly discovered that Deo wasn't the imbecile he was pretending to be. In fact, when the four withdrew off the street, it was found that the troubadours weren't at all what they seemed.

Deo confessed everything, immediately and earnestly; and added to it his avid desire to join the rebellion. Radstac claimed the same, though appeared to Quentis's eye to be merely following Deo's lead. Still, Quentis decided the strange pair should indeed meet the Minstrel—that night. This was too urgent to wait for the next day.

Bryck did meet the two. Deo was very convincing in his zealous desire to strike against the Felk. Convincing, too, were his reasons. He was a wayward member of Petgrad's royalty, one who wanted to make his own mark in this life. So fervent was his ambition that he'd attempted to assassinate General Weisel, the head of the Felk army. Radstac, it was revealed, was a Southsoil mercenary who was in Deo's employ.

It was too fantastic a tale to be any kind of sane covering story.

'So, after all this you contrived to capture me,' Aquint said. He frowned his puzzlement. 'Why?'

'You're an important figure,' Bryck said.

'You could've made better use of your two new acquisitions.' He didn't bother glancing behind at Deo and Radstac. 'They could have gone into the Registry, with the proper access, and assassinated Governor Jesile.'