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‘Well, of course not,’ she admitted. ‘Still, she is very bold to expose herself to any public-spirited assassin who might come along. But you’re right. I am no killer and your people would suffer.’

‘I am glad you see matters so, for I have brought just such a thing with us,’ Amnon continued, unperturbed.

‘A snapbow?’ she demanded.

‘I thought it might be useful.’

‘Maybe it will be, at that,’ she allowed, retrieving the glass from him. ‘So, what’s the woman doing now . . .?’

Seda stood perfectly still, watching a score or so of old men and women, the pick of the Ministers of Khanaphes, bow their heads to her.

Of course, my brother never set foot out of Capitas, she reflected. Where our father and grandfather flew with the armies, he buried himself in the Imperial palace for fear of encountering the hatred of his subjects. How different a man might he have been, had he been welcomed like this in Szar or Myna or Vesserett. And was that so unlikely? If any city wished to avoid the Imperial scourge, how better to do so than with such a complete display of supplication as this? The Khanaphir government’s public obeisance to her was a gesture to melt the heart of the harshest tyrant, and surely she was not the fear-ridden monster her brother had been.

Surely, surely? She knew what they said about her: her servants, her advisers, her generals. Those near to her had heard the rumours by now, for all that she had done her best to keep the knowledge contained: the Empress has strange tastes. Missing slaves caused no great comment, but there would inevitably be some palace steward who had done the relevant arithmetic to work out just how many were vanishing, and other servants of her private chambers who had to deal with the detritus . . .

But that is for a reason, she assured herself. It is not like my brother’s pointless cruelties. I need . . . And she did need, and she could feel that need within her even now, which would have to be slaked sooner rather than later.

Behind her, Gjegevey the Woodlouse was picking his way down the airship ramp, leaning heavily on his staff. He paused to see the Ministers in such submission.

‘Ah, remarkable,’ he murmured, and she knew from the faint unsteadiness in his voice that he, too, suspected it was more than diplomacy that had brought them to their knees.

‘Rise,’ Seda commanded. ‘The Empire thanks you for your reception, and it knows that you will have prepared suitable chambers for us.’

There were Khanaphir servants scurrying away even as she spoke, and she had no doubt that the city’s bounty would be laid bare for her by the time she reached the Imperial embassy, or wherever it was they chose to receive her. She tried to focus on the political and material matters in hand, while keeping at the back of her mind her very personal reasons for demanding to come here.

Still, some instinct she could not name had prompted her to touch the First Minister’s brow like that, and she would swear that, as she did so, she had heard a distant voice echo from out of the very earth itself, and it said: Kneel.

Kneel.

And Che awoke to see the first pale skies of dawn, her heart hammering in her chest as though she had been running, clutching at the very ground itself to remind herself of where she was.

Twelve

They stopped briefly in Szar, just a night’s rest, while Varmen spoke to some Way Brothers about the road ahead. Che had not been happy about their guide going off on his own. It seemed easily possible to her that he could be going to meet with brigands, to arrange an ambush. She expected Thalric to dismiss this idea, given how well he and the other Wasp seemed to be getting along together. Even before she mentioned her fears, though, she found Thalric already setting out to keep an eye on the man.

‘And I thought you liked him,’ she accused him.

Thalric laughed bleakly. ‘Let’s just say I’ve lost faith in my ability to judge my own kinden.’

The Wayhouse had been vacant for several years during the tail end of the Imperial occupation, and inviting the Brothers