here where I know I have enemies.’
‘I’m going on a journey,’ Stenwold explained. The alarm in Jodry Drillen’s eyes was gratifying.
‘Going where? For how long?’
Stenwold shrugged. ‘Two tendays perhaps, three. A sea voyage.’
‘A what? Why?’ Stenwold had caught Jodry in the Speaker’s office, where the man was no doubt deciding on the colour of the new furnishings. Now the fat Assembler looked abruptly like the boy caught trying out his father’s outsized sword. ‘Stenwold… a sea voyage?’
‘For my health,’ replied Stenwold implacably. It was unfair of him, he knew. He was taking out on Jodry his own guilt over leaving Arianna. Jodry Drillen, new Speaker for the Assembly. He’s earned a little unfairness.
‘This isn’t Failwright’s lunacy is it?’
‘Why? Is it catching?’
‘Stenwold, stop doing that!’ Jodry snapped. ‘You can’t go. I need you here.’
‘You don’t need me now. You’re Speaker.’
‘Not all the Lots are in.’
‘You’ve beaten Helmess Broiler by a comfortable margin already. You don’t need me so badly you can’t spare me for two tendays.’
Jodry looked wildly about him, putting Stenwold in mind of a big bumbling fly trying to find its way out of a sealed room. ‘The Vekken!’ he got out. ‘Who’s going to deal with them when you’re away?’
‘They’re behaving themselves nicely.’
‘They’re not! They want to see me!’ Jodry exclaimed. ‘Me and you,’ he added awkwardly after a pause.
A worm of disquiet twisted inside Stenwold. ‘About what?’
‘I’ve no cursed idea. They’re your Vekken.’
That Vekken accord, the piece of botch-job diplomacy that Stenwold had been working on for so long, was still important. Stenwold’s lifetime had seen two Vekken wars, though he could barely recall the first save as an inexplicable period of fear and commotion during his youth. ‘What have you done to sour them, Jodry?’
‘Oh no.’ The fat man shook his head hard enough to make his jowls wobble. ‘Not me. I leave them to you, but this morning I find two of them bothering my secretary for an appointment. You tell me why.’
Stenwold grimaced. Part of him wanted to leave Jodry to fight his own battles for once, but this situation needed him. ‘We’ll see them immediately,’ he decided. ‘Send a man for them now.’
‘But-’
‘I board ship before dusk, Jodry. If you want my help with the Vekken, then you’re more likely to get it while I’m still on land.’
After Jodry had sent his Fly-kinden secretary buzzing off to locate one of the Vekken, the Assembly’s most likely new Speaker turned back to Stenwold, and eyed him narrowly.
‘What’s got into you?’ he asked. ‘What’s going on?’
Stenwold stared at him for a long while. I mostly trust you, he thought, but not quite that last bit, Jodry. I’m not so convinced of my own judgement where it comes to assessing my own kinden. He realized, with a start, that Tomasso the pirate had inspired more instinctive trust in him than this Beetle-kinden of notable family who had done Stenwold nothing but good. But Tomasso made no attempt to hide what he is, whereas Jodry’s whole career is based on impressions and pretences. The sour afterthought was unavoidable. And so is my own.
Jodry was frowning. ‘First you’re about to laugh at me, and now you look like you want to kill me. Stenwold… Is this about your niece?’
‘What do you know about my niece?’
‘I know she didn’t come back from Khanaphes, but Master Gripshod didn’t pass her name to me along with Manny Gorget’s, so I’m assuming she’s still somewhere amongst the living.’ The concern in the man’s jowly face was genuine, in so far as Stenwold could tell.
‘Trust me in what I’m doing.’ Stenwold dodged the question nimbly. ‘Trust me that I believe it to be in Collegium’s best interests.’
Jodry sighed. ‘Well, your record is good in that respect. I just hope that what you believe matches what you actually find there.’
The Fly-kinden returned just then, and behind him, walking with a smart military step, was one of the Vekken. The city of Vek had sent four ambassadors, men similar enough in appearance to be brothers, short, stocky, strong-framed, pitch-skinned. Stenwold was able to tell them apart now, from long afternoons of unrewarding negotiations.
‘Termes,’ he greeted the man.
‘Master Maker.’ Something had happened on the Khanaphes expedition to change the Vekken’s view of Stenwold. When their two delegates had returned, and shared their thoughts with their comrades, a breach seemed to have been made in their blank hostility. All of a sudden they could look at him without reaching for their swords and, when he spoke, they listened. Jodry was right in that.
‘Now perhaps we can get somewhere,’ the fat Assembler began. ‘You people don’t like me, but you like Maker here, yes?’
Termes stared at Jodry with antipathy, and Stenwold remarked, ‘They don’t like me, Jodry, they just dislike me less than most people.’
‘This is true,’ the Vekken confirmed, his voice clipped and tight as he squared off against the two Beetles. Weight for weight they could have made five of him between them, but Ant-kinden were strong and born to war. They displayed precious little body-language, either, what with living in each other’s minds all the time, but Stenwold recognized an Ant preparing for a fight.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s gone wrong this time?’
‘We know that Collegium conspires with our enemies,’ Termes said, righteously.
Stenwold would have preferred to deal with one of the two who had made the journey to Khanaphes. The sharp edges had been knocked off their hatred, whereas Termes was still spiky with it.
‘What enemies does Vek have these days?’ Stenwold prompted.
‘We know of the Tseni embassy,’ Termes continued implacably.
The response threw Stenwold. For a moment he could not even place the word ‘Tseni’. Then his memory supplied it for him: Tsen, that distant Ant city on the far west coast. A city that had no dealings with Collegium or any of the Lowlands, save that it had sent a meagre detachment of soldiers to aid in the war against the Empire, more a diplomatic gesture than any substantial military force.
‘Tseni embassy?’ he asked blankly. Of course, although a lot of ground lay between Tsen and Vek, every inch of it would have been fought over at some time or other. Ant city-states were never easy neighbours. ‘Have you heard of such a thing?’ he asked Jodry.
The man looked awkward. ‘Well, only today, in fact. Three Tseni turned up from nowhere, just walked into the Amphiophos and started asking who was in charge. Whereupon the news reached our Vekken friends, no doubt.’
Stenwold looked at the dark-skinned Ant. ‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it. If they are genuinely ambassadors, then we’ll hear them out, but they’re not here by our invitation. Do you believe that?’
Termes’s dark face neither confirmed nor denied it.
‘They must be hoping to trade on their contribution to the war,’ said Jodry, matching Stenwold’s thoughts.
Stenwold signed. ‘Termes,’ he said. ‘Jodry and I will speak to them now. And then, whatever they say, even if they promise us the moon on a plate, we’ll come and talk to you. And then I’m leaving the city for a while – on a matter unrelated to Tsen, Vek or any other Ant-kinden city-state.’ Because, otherwise, if he had simply left without stating that, the Vekken would take it as concrete evidence of betrayal. ‘And Jodry will pledge to make no agreements or decisions on this matter until I’ve returned.’ Or until he gets tired of waiting for the Fly-kinden to bring back my body. He brushed the thought away irritably. ‘You see the wisdom of that, Jodry? After all, you’re our newest Speaker, so you can explain to the Tseni how very busy you are. Your new role must demand a great deal of organization.’
Jodry gave him a measured nod. ‘Oh, yes. After all, everyone knows how oppressive the bureaucracy here is getting.’
Termes looked from one to the other, expressionless. ‘Congratulations on your new appointment,’ he said to
