Authors: Peter F. Hamilton
Mayor Owain was standing on a wooden platform at the end of the stables, surrounded by a gaggle of advisers and three other Masters. He wore his maroon and sapphire robes with a startlingly white fur trim, the hood loose over his shoulder. As always, Owain’s mind was perfectly shielded, while his facial expression radiated interest in the vista before him.
‘Not long,’ Larose muttered to Edeard as they waited at the foot of the stairs of the platform.
The regimental bugler sounded formation, and the horses quickly arranged themselves in front of the Mayor’s platform. Ten ge-eagles settled on the stable roofs. The colonel saluted from his saddle.
‘I wish you good fortune on your endeavour,’ Mayor Owain said to the assembled regiment. ‘I am confident you will restore order to Talence province. Whilst bandits may find it easy to elude local farmers and sheriffs, they will soon discover it is altogether different to run and hide from a stalwart man of the regiment riding after them. It is with pride that I see you leave today, knowing that our city is the symbol of hope that all on Querencia turn to in their moment of deepest need. I know that above all, the militia can be relied on to complete their task with honour.’
The colonel led his troops in a hearty three cheers for the Mayor, who applauded them back. Then the bugler sounded slow advance, and the regiment began its ride to the City Gate, and its undertaking beyond. Their ge-eagles took flight, soaring out towards the crystal wall.
Owain stood on the platform, his face perfectly composed until the last man rode past. It was only when the first of the wagons began to roll out that he turned and made his way down the steps.
‘Your honour,’ Edeard said courteously as the Mayor reached the ground.
‘Waterwalker, thank you for coming. I hope it’s not too inconvenient.’
‘No, sir.’
Owain actually smiled. ‘Ah, polite as well as effective. How long before you’re our Chief Constable, eh?’
‘I don’t think Walsfol has anything to worry about, your honour.’
‘We shall see. Walk with me, please.’ He waved a hand at the gaggle of advisers, who fell back discreetly; Captain Larose and the soldiers took up position just behind them. Owain chose a narrow track which led back towards the Outer Circle Canal around Majate. The meadowland on either side was just about deserted.
‘I regret that we seem to have started off on the wrong foot, young Waterwalker. I blame myself, you are Finitan’s protégé, after all.’
‘He supports banishment, your honour.’
‘Yes. So do I.’
‘I didn’t know that, your honour.’
‘Still polite even in the face of provocation. You are too kind, Waterwalker. You see me as someone who has opposed your clever exclusion warrants, and who of course will fight Finitan and his proposal.’
‘It does seem that way your honour, yes.’
‘I’m sure it does. That is because you are young, and – your pardon – can as yet only visualize short-term benefits. Do you really think, do you believe in your own heart, that I do not want this city rid of crime?’
‘No.’
‘Precisely. Well I thank you for that courtesy. I actually rather like the idea of the exclusion warrants. You are to be congratulated on implementing them, and against such strong political opposition.’
‘Given what I understand of this city’s politics, a policy which you opposed would always gain support from other quarters.’
Owain grinned smoothly. ‘Which brings us to today. What did you think of the regiment?’
Edeard glanced back towards the stables. The last of the wagons had now left the wooden buildings. Animals bleated as they were herded along behind. ‘I think the bandits will be in a lot of trouble.’ The Jeavons station’s ge-eagle was spiralling lazily above City Gate, showing Edeard five new wagons belonging to the Weapons Guild. They were parked to one side of the road, waiting. He knew they would follow the regiment all the way to Talence province, where they would sell pistols to the frightened farmers and villagers, profiting Owain’s Guild still further just as Jessile said. It wasn’t a crime, he acknowledged, but that didn’t make it right, either.
‘Yes,’ Owain said. ‘But why are they there in the first place?’
‘They are everywhere.’
‘Indeed they are. The bandits and the gangs are symptomatic of our society’s failings, Waterwalker. That is what I am truly opposed to.’
‘I’m not sure I understand, your honour.’
‘If you banish the gang leadership from the city, where will they go?’
‘Beyond the borders of the furthest province, or some distant island, that’s what I had in mind.’
‘Of course. It would seem humane, I’d expect nothing less from a man of principle like you. We’re all guilty of listening to the city’s tittle tattle about you, Waterwalker; but not once have I heard it said you lack integrity, and for that I thank the Lady. But have you considered what will occur a year, or even ten, after they begin their banishment? The resentment? The lure of returning? If they didn’t come back here they would surely join with the bandits.’
‘So what is your proposal? I assume that’s what we are discussing.’
‘We are. My proposal, as you put it, is that we do not treat the gangs and the bandits in isolation. We all live on one world. We must become one nation. Our problems must be dealt with in unison. The militia regiments out in the countryside, the constables here in the city. When we have rounded up all of the miscreants, then we can exile them in perpetuity. I like your idea of a remote island – that would certainly make them containable.’
‘So what’s the difference between you and Finitan?’
‘Finitan thinks only of the city, of short-term solutions. Don’t tell me you haven’t worried about what happens to people after banishment.’
‘I’ve considered it, your honour,’ Edeard admitted. ‘We seem to be making things worse on the Iguru, what with all the highwaymen; that’s why I wanted banishment.’
‘But do you see we can’t treat these problems in isolation?’
‘I understand both problems have to be confronted, yes.’
‘I am happy to hear that. Unfortunately, the easy one is the city. You have shown us how it can be achieved, Waterwalker. Nobody doubts you will ultimately succeed, not even poor old Buate.’
‘I’d settle for Bise capitulating.’
Owain laughed. ‘Don’t worry. When the time comes, I will stand over Master Bise personally, and ensure he signs the exclusion warrants for Sampalok.’
‘Your honour?’
‘It is simple politics. Master Bise believes he can gain more influence by supporting me. In Council it pays me to encourage such support. Ultimately, Bise will accept the inevitable, and his nefarious allies will be purged from our streets.’
‘That’s . . . a relief to know.’
‘I thought it would be. So, whilst not asking you to switch your support – for Finitan is your patron, and I would not want to foster such disloyalty – do you at least agree with some of my objectives?’
‘Yes, your honour, I do.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Why can you not reach a concord with Master Finitan?’
‘Sadly, we have been adversaries for too long. Neither of us trusts the other. And I have to say, I will campaign long and hard to retain my office no matter what we agree or disagree in private. Such is the nature of humanity, worst of all flawed specimens like us ancient conservative Masters. Do you think it likely that Finitan will back down?’
‘No.’
‘Precisely. I wanted to reassure you of my own goals, because whoever wins this election, it is you who will be fighting the gangs on the streets.’
‘Thank you, your honour.’
‘I admit, knowing you will be working for the city is of considerable relief to me. The constables have performed little short of a miracle since the day you walked on water. And that resounding victory over dear little Mirnatha’s captors was extraordinary. I admit to joining the cheers of joy along Grand Major Canal that day. I ask the Lady that she will be equally generous granting the militia victory. Theirs will be the more difficult task, and the one bogged down in politics.’
‘How is that?’ Edeard asked. They’d nearly reached the Outer Circle Canal, up ahead he could see the bronze and jade bridge which Rah himself had commissioned.
‘The countryside wishes to enjoy the benefits of the city without having to pay the cost,’ Owain said. ‘Five times since last summer I have dispatched our regiments to aid desperate provincial governors. And what payment have we received? A grudgingly given reimbursement for our basic costs. To what avail? The regiments ultimately have to come home, leaving the lands open once again to infiltration by the bandits. It is a nonsense, a gesture which achieves nothing in the long term. If we are to achieve stability and an end to this dreadful felony, then the provinces will have to pay taxes to Makkathran for organizing their defence. Militias will have to be stationed permanently and strategically across the countryside. Such achievement will require tremendous organization, one province cannot be favoured above another. All costs – and they will be considerable – must be borne equally. The rule of law available to all without prejudice. Both the Master in his mansion and the farmer in his cottage will have to answer to the same authority.’
‘One nation,’ Edeard said.
‘Precisely. At the moment city and provinces are naught but a loose affiliate. And look where it has taken us, to the verge of anarchy. To face this new threat, we have to consolidate the forces of civilization, to strengthen our boundary and enforce our justice. Only in a nation where equality reigns can this happen.’
They walked over the bridge together. Edeard’s mind was awhirl trying to take in all the Mayor had said. Standing in the shade thrown by the sprawling conglomeration of Parliament House’s buildings, Owain faced Edeard.
‘I hope you no longer consider me an enemy, Waterwalker.’
‘I never really did, your honour.’
‘That gladdens me. Maybe one day, when your generation has risen to high office, you will extinguish the vanity and foolishness of petty politics that so bedevils us today. I wish you luck in that.’ He inclined his head, and walked into the tower housing the Guild Of Clerks. His entourage went with him; Captain Larose smiled knowingly as he passed Edeard.
‘Ho Lady,’ Edeard exhaled. He turned and made his way slowly round the base of Parliament House, towards the bridge which would take him back into Jeavons.
So whoever wins, they’ll support me against the gangs
.
Despite everything the Mayor had said, he still hoped it would be Finitan. Though the idea of a penal colony on a remote island was an intriguing one.
Of all the people in Makkathran, Nanitte was the one Edeard would never have expected to see waiting for him in the street outside the tenement. But there she was when he made his way home that evening.
‘Can I talk to you?’ she asked as he reached the tenement’s entrance.
Edeard’s farsight swept round. He wasn’t just searching for people he knew (this wouldn’t look good to Macsen, for a start), but to see who Buate had got watching. ‘You’ve got one minute,’ he said, after confirming there was nothing immediately suspicious.
‘Not out here, this is too important.’ Nanitte’s voice was brittle; her old self-confidence had gone.
Edeard took a good look. Beneath her dark-blue cloak, she wore a low-cut green and white dress, with her hair arranged in long waves. Now, out here in the sunlight, he could see the heavy makeup on her face. Even that didn’t completely cover up the bruise. Her lip had recently been split as well.
‘All right,’ Edeard said reluctantly. ‘Five minutes.’
Nanitte looked round the inside of the maisonette with interest. Her hand slid over the cold alcove, fingers touching the milk jug and fruit. ‘It is all different in here, just like they said it was,’ she said as she walked over to the bed. A hand tested the firmness of the spongy substance.
‘Who said?’
‘Girls I’ve talked to. On Ivarl’s behalf, of course. They talk freely to me rather than him.’
Edeard grunted. ‘Right.’
‘He was obsessed with you.’
‘And his brother?’
Nanitte slumped. ‘I hate him.’
Edeard indicated her face. ‘He hits you.’
‘Among other things, yes.’
‘Leave him.’
She laughed bitterly. ‘You said that with a straight face. You really do come from another place, don’t you?’
‘Probably.’
‘I want to leave him,’ she said. ‘Those things you said to him the other night. That’s all going to happen, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Even if Owain gets elected; I was talking to him today.’
‘So I’d be thrown out of the city.’
‘That depends how deep your involvement is.’
‘I was surprised I’m not on your warrants already.’
‘We’re concentrating on the violent ones for now.’
‘It wouldn’t be much of a life for me out there, not like that, not the whore of an exile.’
‘Why are you here, Nanitte? What have you got to tell me?’
‘He’s going to buy guns, a lot of guns.’
‘Who from?’
She gave him a thin smile. ‘If I left now, by myself, I thought perhaps I could go to one of the big towns beyond the Iguru Plain, somewhere no one would know me or what I am. I could buy a small house, or some land. If I had that, I could find a husband, a nice provincial man. I’d be able to make sure he loved me; whores make the best wives, did you know that? I’m not quite sure I could do the whole housemistress and children thing for him, but we’d be happy, and all this, my life, would be gone.’
‘I wish Buate thought like that.’
‘No, you don’t. You’re enjoying this, it makes you
live
. You need to see him defeated, you want Makkathran liberated from the gangs he controls. You need an ending, Waterwalker. Throwing them out just so they can drift back into the city over months and years won’t be good enough for you. The Waterwalker requires finality. I don’t know what you’ll do to achieve it, but I know I don’t want to be here when you do. Out of you and Buate, I think I’m actually more afraid of you.’
‘That’s a very nice summary of me. Shame it’s not particularly accurate.’