Athli looked at him; it was like looking at her own reflection in the polished visor of a helmet, for all the good it did her. ‘I suppose so,’ she said quietly. ‘After all, I don’t imagine I’d be doing any business even if you let me go.’
Javec smiled. ‘Thank you for reminding me. For what it’s worth, the provincial office has taken over the Shastel Bank franchise here - we’ve written to the Order to regularise the position, and I’m sure there won’t be any difficulties. I should congratulate you on the clarity and thoroughness of your records, by the way. When things have settled down a bit, I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you back as chief clerk.’
Athli looked at him for a long moment, and nodded. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said.
‘Unless,’ Javec went on - he was watching her very closely - ‘unless you feel you might be interested in joining Captain Loredan’s staff, wherever his next posting happens to be. It’d be just like old times, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Athli replied. ‘I don’t know a thing about military administration, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, you don’t have to make your mind up right away,’ Javec said. ‘We’ll see how things turn out, shall we? And now, if you’ll excuse me - thank you for your time; and for the tip about that possible Arrazin headpiece. I’ll most certainly follow that up.’
The two guards took a step forwards, and the Islanders stood up quickly. ‘Just one thing,’ Athli asked.
‘Yes?’
‘You mentioned Theudas - Theudas Morosin? What’s going to happen to him?’
Javec smiled. ‘Once again, thank you for reminding me. I’ve already talked to him; he’s going to join Captain Loredan. Interestingly, it sounds as if he might have some really rather useful local knowledge, following his recent detention by the plainspeople. I’m sure he sends you his best wishes.’
Athli frowned. ‘He’s already left, then?’
‘Either that or he’s on his way.’
‘I see. It’s just that I’ve got something that belongs to Bardas - to Captain Loredan; a sword, as it happens, rather a fine one, and I was wondering if Theudas could take it to him when he goes.’
Javec nodded. ‘The Guelan,’ he said. ‘Superb example, isn’t it? And the sentimental value as well, being a gift from his brother. It’s all right, we’ve already seen to that. But thank you for raising the matter.’
He nodded to the guards, and a moment later the four Islanders found themselves back in the corridor, having to walk faster than they’d have liked just to keep up. In due course they arrived at the Auzeil house, hot and out of breath. The front door was open, with a soldier standing on either side of it.
‘Excuse me,’ Eseutz started to say, but a hand in the small of her back propelled her into the house, and the door closed behind her. There were two more soldiers in the hall, and a further three in the courtyard. One of them, a long, skinny man in his early fifties, declared that he was Sergeant Corlo, and provided they didn’t give him any trouble, everybody was bound to get along just fine.
‘I don’t think I like him very much,’ Eseutz whispered, as she went with Vetriz into the south back bedroom. ‘In fact, I don’t think I like any of them.’
Vetriz didn’t answer; she’d been very quiet, in fact, for some time.
‘I don’t know,’ Eseutz went on. ‘I can’t see how this is going to work out. I mean, what about our ships? Or the rest of our property? They can’t just
take
it; what’re we supposed to live on, for gods’ sakes? And what are we supposed to do? Really I’d prefer it if they looted the place, so long as they went away afterwards and left us in peace. Being robbed is one thing, but—’
‘Eseutz,’ Vetriz interrupted, dropping heavily on to the bed, ‘please. I’ve got the most dreadful headache and I need to lie down for a while.’
‘What? Oh, all right. I’ll go and see if I can at least get them to bring me some clothes; assuming they haven’t confiscated them all.’
Has she gone?
Vetriz closed her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, thank goodness. She’s a nice enough person, I do actually like her a lot, but the thought of being cooped up with her indefinitely is fairly horrifying.’
I can imagine.
Vetriz smiled. ‘Being cooped up with anybody’s bad enough, I suppose,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure that’s going to be the least of our problems. What’s going to happen, do you think? Seriously.’
I wish I knew.
‘Oh.’ She sighed. ‘When that horrible man mentioned Gorgas Loredan, I thought I was going to die. I suppose I’ll have to talk to Ven about it, and he’ll be all pompous and aggravating. When I think of some of the specimens he’s got mixed up with—’
Perhaps you should have told him. But I can see why you didn’t
.
‘Oh, I can handle Ven. Alexius, what
do
you think’s going to happen? It looks like a ghastly mess to me, and it’s all our own fault. We shouldn’t have provoked them like that.’
Well, it’s done now. Once they’ve finished with this war, I expect they’ll go away. Then it’ll be up to you to try to make the best of it. Of course, they’ll keep the ships, and the crews too, until they can train crews of their own. If I were you, I’d be thinking about where you can go
.
‘Oh,’ Vetriz repeated. ‘Leave the Island for good, you mean? I’ve never . . . Oh, this is awful. They can’t do this to us, surely.’
Don’t count on it. They don’t need you. They’ll probably want the Island itself as a naval base, so there’ll be a need for inns, shops, things like that. But they tend to prefer their own people, in which case they might well evacuate all of you and send you somewhere else inside the Empire. It’s one of the things they do; it’s a very good way of keeping control.
Vetriz lay quiet for a while. ‘So where do you think we should go? Colleon, maybe - but it’s so hot there, I don’t think I’d be able to cope. And what would we do for a living? I suppose it depends on whether we’re able to take anything with us. I think we’d be all right running a shop, especially if Athli comes in with us - now there’s a born survivor, if ever there was one. I think Ven has friends in Colleon who’d help us out.’
Possibly. Of course, it won’t be long before the Empire annexes Colleon. Personally, if I were you, I’d be looking to go a long way further out than that.
She shook her head. ‘Now you’re really starting to depress me,’ she said. ‘Not that I’m saying you’re wrong. I just wish I knew how all this happened so quickly.’
Simple. It’s because Bardas Loredan made it possible for them to take Ap’ Escatoy. They’d been stuck there for ten years; there was no reason to assume they’d ever succeed. Arguably, if it hadn’t been for Bardas they never would. Ap’ Escatoy was impregnable, there was no way round it, and the Empire doesn’t have a fleet. Now Ap’ Escatoy’s fallen and they’ve got a fleet. As a study in how one man can affect the whole direction of the flow of the Principle, it’s absolutely fascinating. If only I were still alive, I could write a book about it.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
‘What the hell—’ Iseutz finally broke the silence. ‘What the
hell
is
she
doing here?’
Gorgas frowned. ‘That’s no way to talk about your own mother,’ he said. ‘Come on, this is a historic occasion, our first proper family reunion in - what, how long is it now, Niessa? Must be over twenty years.’ He thought for a moment, then clicked his tongue. ‘Of course, we know exactly how long it’s been. How old are you now, Iseutz? Twenty-three?’
In the exact middle of the table was a cup, which Clefas had put there to catch the drips from the roof. Their father had dished it out of a piece of plate steel cut from a helmet his father had picked up on the site of the last major battle fought in the Mesoge, over a hundred years ago. As the raindrops fell into it they made a plinking noise, like a light hammer bouncing off an anvil.
‘Twenty-three,’ Gorgas repeated, when it was obvious that nobody else was going to contribute to the conversation. ‘Which makes it nearly twenty-four years since the last time we were all together around this table. Well, nothing much seems to have changed around here, I’m glad to say.’
Clefas and Zonaras were sitting perfectly still, like mechanical iron figures in a clock-tower that haven’t been wound up. Niessa was sulking, her arms folded, her chin jutting as she stared out of the window at the driving rain. Iseutz was pulling a piece of cloth into strips, one end gripped between her teeth. Nobody had bothered to clear away the cups and plates from the last three meals, though Clefas had at least taken the time to squash a couple of cockroaches. Gorgas was sitting at the head of the table. He’d put on a new shirt and trousers for the occasion - Colleon silk with brocade - and he was wearing his father’s ring, which had been in the family for generations.
‘You’ll find your room’s pretty much the way it was,’ he told his sister. ‘Same old linen-chest, same old bed. Of course, you and Iseutz are going to have to share, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe we should think about turning the old apple store into another bedroom, though; it’s going to get a bit cosy otherwise.’
‘Where are you sleeping?’ Niessa asked, without moving her head.
‘In father’s room, of course,’ Gorgas replied.
‘I thought so.’
Iseutz had finished tearing her bit of rag into strips; now she started tearing the strips into squares. ‘Go on, then,’ she said, ‘say it, and let’s get it over with.’
‘Say what?’
She rested her hands on the table. ‘Any minute now,’ she said, ‘you’re going to say something like,
It’s just a pity Bardas isn’t here, then we’d all be together again.
Well, aren’t you?’
Gorgas frowned a little. ‘All right, yes, it would be nice if Bardas was here, but he’s not. He’s got a life of his own now, he’s making something of himself. He knows this house will always be here for him, as and when he needs it.’
‘Oh, for gods’ sakes.’ Iseutz banged the table with her mutilated hand. ‘Uncle Gorgas,
why
did you have to bring her here? Well, I’m not sharing a room with her, and that’s that. I’d rather sleep in the trap-house.’
‘Fine,’ Niessa muttered. ‘You do that.’
‘Niessa!’
Dear gods,
Niessa thought,
he sounds just like Father. Now that’s . . . worrying.
Gorgas was glowering round the table, his arms folded ominously.
Any minute now he’s going to tell me to eat up my porridge
.
‘And the rest of you, for pity’s sake. We’ve had our differences, gods know - and yes, before anybody else says it, yes, a hell of a lot of them were my fault, I’m not trying to pretend they weren’t. But that was then and this is now; and let’s be absolutely straight with each other, none of us is exactly perfect.’ He stopped, glowered again, and went on, ‘I didn’t want to have to do it this way, but I think it’s necessary. Let’s start with you, Niessa; you’re self-centred, completely amoral, you’ve never really cared about anything or anybody but yourself; when things got too hot for you on Scona you just walked away, leaving for dead all the people who depended on you - I was the only one who even tried to do anything; I managed to get some of them out and I brought them here, but you didn’t give a damn. You betrayed a city - a whole city, all those hundreds of thousands of people you practically sentenced to death, just so you wouldn’t have to pay your debts.
‘And the way you’ve treated your own daughter is little short of abominable. When I brought her home to Scona, what did you do? You threw her in jail, for pity’s sake. And don’t you start looking all smug and self-righteous, Iseutz, you’re the last person - you tried to kill your own uncle - no, you be quiet and let me finish. You tried to kill Bardas for something that wasn’t his fault. He was only doing his job, he had no way of knowing that man was your uncle, he didn’t even know you existed. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but really, you’re just going to have to come to terms with it and start acting like a sane, normal human being while you can still remember how.
‘And as for you two,’ he went on, swinging round and scowling at Clefas and Zonaras, ‘you’re every bit as bad, if not worse. You had everything; you had the farm, dammit, you had Bardas sending you all that money, every quarter he could scrape together by risking his life, and what did you do? You squandered it, threw it all away. Dear gods, when I think what I’d have given to have what you had; to be here, at home, doing what we were all meant to do, instead of wandering around the world fighting and cheating and screwing other people just to make a living - you know, I don’t get angry easily, but that really does annoy me.’ It was very quiet now; even the rain seemed to have stopped dripping into the steel cup. ‘About the only one of us who can honestly say he’s always tried to do the right thing, always put other people before himself, is Bardas - and he’s the one who can’t come home, because of what
we’ve
done to him. Isn’t that right, Clefas? Zonaras? He came here, when he needed somewhere clean and safe to go to, and as soon as he saw what you two had done, he was so disgusted he couldn’t bear to stay here, so he went off again - and now look where he is, practically an exile; and it’s you two who’re to blame for that, and I’m really finding it hard to forgive you for it - although I do forgive you, because we’re family, we’ve got to stick together no matter what we’ve all done. But for heaven’s sake, why can’t you all just make a bit of an effort and stop
bickering
with each other like a lot of spoiled kids? That’s not so much to ask, is it?’
For a long time, nobody spoke. Then Iseutz giggled. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but it’s comical, honestly. All those terrible things we’ve all done, and it’s supposed to make us all one happy family. Uncle Gorgas, you’re one of a kind, you really are.’
Gorgas turned and stared at her, making her shiver. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ he said.
‘Oh, come on. Listen to yourself. And just out of interest, has it slipped your mind that Uncle Bardas murdered your son and made his body into a—’