Empire in Black and Gold

here. Have you perhaps cultivated an interest in mining?’

‘No more than in anything else,’ Stenwold replied. He looked oddly out of place in Elias’s study, even amongst the reduced facilities of this simple house near the mines. The dust of the road was still on him and he wore his artificer’s leathers like armour, proof against sparks and metal shards. Even with a sword at his belt he was hardly cousin to the lord of the manor.

‘So, tell me,’ Elias prompted, leaning back in his chair.

‘I may need your help, Elias,’ Stenwold said simply.

‘If I can, but what’s the problem?’

‘My niece, Cheerwell, and some companions of hers, they appear to have gone missing.’

‘In Helleron? A College field trip, was it?’

Stenwold gave him a narrow look. ‘They entered the city a few days ago and were attacked, got separated. Cheerwell’s got a good head on her shoulders so she’d have thought of family.’

Elias shrugged. ‘Well you must try some of the others rather than me, although I would have heard, I think, if any errant cousin had come to town.’

Stenwold nodded solemnly, a man confronted with what he had most feared. ‘You haven’t seen her, then? No sign at all?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Elias stretched out another scroll of accounts. ‘But I’ll do all I can, obviously, to find her. Just say the word.’

‘Well.’ Stenwold took a deep breath, reflecting that a man of his age and position should not find himself in such a situation. ‘The word is that Cheerwell and a companion came to the very door of your townhouse. Her companion was a Dragonfly prince in full regalia, so he would have been hard to miss.’

Elias frowned at him. ‘What are you implying?’

‘That they came to you, cousin Elias. Cheerwell was running from her attackers and, like any sensible girl, she went to her own family for protection.’

‘Stenwold, I’ve already told you, I haven’t seen her.’ But Elias’s expression revealed a thin smile creeping up on it. Stenwold’s heart sank. A disappointment, perhaps, but equally not a surprise.

‘What’s going on, Elias?’ he asked softly.

Elias steepled his fingers, elbows planted on the desk. ‘My dear Stenwold, you have always been, shall we say, a maverick. The way you blunder about waving warnings at people, you’re the family embarrassment, really. Perhaps they may put up with it in Collegium, where I hear eccentrics are considered one of their greatest resources, but it’s different in Helleron. Here you can’t just charge about like some Ant-kinden pugilist looking for a fight. What precisely do you want?’

‘I want my niece, who is also your cousin,’ said Stenwold, his face now stripped of all warmth or humour.

‘You’ve made enemies here, Stenwold,’ Elias said, ‘and they hate it when you pry into their business. If you’ve got your niece involved in that, it’s your own fault.’

‘Yes, yes it is my fault,’ Stenwold admitted. ‘Although I had thought to keep her from danger by sending her here. So much for that. What exactly did you do to her, Elias?’

‘I?’

‘Shall we dispense with the dissembling? I can see that you’re desperate to gloat, and here am I, a willing audience. So tell me how clever you’ve been, Elias. What has happened to Cheerwell?’

Elias clasped his hands together, the essence of a merchant concluding a deal. ‘Your enemies heard about her, Stenwold, and they tracked her down.’

‘They tracked her to you.’

Elias’s smile dried up. ‘And if they did? The girl was blundering from trouble to trouble. She would have ended up in their hands eventually.’

‘You could have sheltered her.’

‘Why should I?’ Elias stood up, angry. ‘You bring your rantings to my door and expect me to put myself out for you? You’ve invented a war, Stenwold, and you can fight it. You’re the one who has been agitating all over Helleron about the best clients this city has seen in a hundred years.’

‘What have you done with my niece?’ Stenwold said, still the soul of reason.

‘I handed her over to them, Stenwold. And why not?’

‘Because she was your cousin? Ah no, we’ve been there.’ Stenwold’s hands were fists. ‘And how much did you get?’

‘If the Empire was kind enough to render a reward, then so be it,’ Elias told him.

‘You sold her then,’ said Stenwold. ‘Have you any idea what they’ll do to her? Torture her? Execute her?’

‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, they’re a just people,’ Elias replied. ‘They’ll probably make a slave out of her.’

‘Is that all?’ Stenwold hissed. ‘Just a slave, is it?’

From elsewhere in the house something thumped, and Elias’s thin smile broadened just a little.

‘She was a wanted criminal, in their eyes. As are you.’

‘Enough of this!’ Stenwold was right up to the desk, two feet of wood all that was between them. ‘Where have they taken her?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Tell me!’

‘I have told you. Why should I care where she’s gone? She’s gone, and that’s enough for me.’ Elias leant forwards across the desk until he and Stenwold were nose to nose. ‘However, you’ll find out, and sooner than you might want.’ Abruptly he broke off and took a bell from beside the penholder, ringing it loudly. His expression was triumphant when he added, ‘In fact, you can join her.’

The echo of the bell fell away into the walls. Stenwold had his hand to his sword hilt, a step back from the desk now, waiting. After a moment of looking at the room’s single door, he cocked an eyebrow at Elias.

‘And?’

Elias rang the bell again, and then a third time, so hard that it bounced from the desk top. The high sound sang out, fell silent. Nothing.

‘Guards!’ Elias shouted. ‘Guards! To me, now!’

There was the smallest of smiles on Stenwold’s face. ‘It can be so difficult,’ he commented, ‘hiring reliable staff these days.’

‘Guards!’ Elias bellowed again, and this time the door finally opened, and a man, a single man, entered, stalking into the room like death. A tall Mantis-kinden in green, a claw-like metal blade jutting from his right hand.

‘Tisamon,’ Stenwold said, and despite Cheerwell’s plight, despite his cousin’s betrayal, he could not suppress a grin. ‘I didn’t know if you’d got my message. I didn’t know if you’d come.’

The Mantis smiled back, or as much as he had ever done. ‘Ten years since you last called for me. How could you think only ten years would keep me away? I am no fickle Beetle-kinden, Stenwold. We remember.’

‘Who is this?’ Elias demanded. ‘What is going on?’

‘You have made use of my talents in the past, Master Monger, in matters of business,’ Tisamon told him mildly. ‘My name is Tisamon of Felyal.’

Elias’s eyes bulged. He had missed the name the first time but now it came to him in full force. ‘I will pay you twice what this man is offering,’ he croaked. ‘Five times.’

Tisamon’s lips twitched and he shook his head.

‘He takes money,’ Stenwold explained to his cousin, ‘but he fights for honour, and that’s a currency I fear you’re not good for.’ He was round the edge of the desk in a moment, his sword out while his free hand grasped Elias’s robe at the front.

‘Stenwold, please-’

‘You sold my niece to the Wasps,’ Stenwold hissed through clenched teeth.

‘Please, I can-’

‘You have nothing worthwhile to offer me,’ Stenwold said. He found that his sword arm was actually shaking