As soon as the outer gate was opened, the refugees crowded around the emerging battalions. Overflowing faeces from the latrines and smoke from pit fires combined to provide an intense odour, while behind them their tents stretched across the tundra like a city of cloth. Dogs ran in purposeless circles, ducking under hung-up washing that had frozen solid and didn’t even move in the wind. The muddied road to the east stretched right alongside this hellish encampment. Grubby men wrapped in innumerable layers of rags pawed at the horsemen pleadingly, while the sight of a mother carrying her dead child in a sling was almost too much to bear. Brynd suspected that his guilt at ignoring them would come back to haunt his dreams. Everywhere there was hopelessness.
‘These refugees…’ Chancellor Urtica stood at the window, focusing his gaze through the spires towards those camped outside the gates of Villjamur. ‘They annoy me somewhat.’
Tryst stepped out of the shadows. ‘You wish them to be eliminated now, sir?’
Urtica peered back at him, still gripping the windowsill. ‘Timing is everything, my dear fellow. Indeed timing is everything. Of course, I wish them gone, disposed of, because they’re a blight on the Empire. Remember this city is a city of legends. Long have poets written about the nights of Villjamur. We can’t have their like here, no.’
‘And your plan?’ Tryst asked. ‘Is this why you asked me here?’
‘One of the reasons, certainly,’ Urtica said. ‘But I also wondered how you were getting along with our little friend, the rumel investigator.’
‘Not bad,’ Tryst said. ‘He’s keeping very quiet about the murders. Makes me think he knows something. He doesn’t usually keep everything quite this silent, though.’
Urtica said, ‘You suspect he’ll find the murderer?’
‘I’m certain of it,’ Tryst said, hoping he could mask the fact that he himself had caught her already. Once he had finished with Tuya, he’d make sure she was arrested and executed, but meanwhile he had his own schemes to pursue. Yes, timing was everything. In the meantime he didn’t want to consider his actions a betrayal of Urtica’s trust.
‘I have received numerous requests from the Inquisition hierarchy about permitting Investigator Jeryd into the Council chambers for extensive questioning sessions. I am, however, wary of allowing such a move.’
‘Certainly not, chancellor. I have taken moves already to ensure that Jeryd is sufficiently distracted.’
‘Good.’ Urtica scrutinized Tryst till the Inquisition aide felt nervous. ‘Tell me, as his assistant, what do you yourself know about these murders?’
‘Very little,’ Tryst lied, ‘because there isn’t much to go on. It seems each councillor was hunted down with a purpose. By some savage creature, in each case.’
‘Creature, you say.’ Urtica’s expression revealed surprise. ‘Hmm, these are indeed strange times. I have had reports of the dead rising up to walk amongst the living… but that is strictly between you and I.’
‘Of course, chancellor. Of course.’
‘Our military operations must not be declared openly, though news will filter out eventually.’
‘Who do we fight?’ Tryst asked.
‘The Varltungs. I’m slightly concerned not to have heard any further intelligence yet. The routine garuda flights have stopped. Not only that, but we’ve thousands of stinking refugees outside our fucking gates, living in their own sodding filth and disease. It’s only a matter of time before their diseases reach into the city itself.’
‘You have schemes in mind, sir?’
‘Indeed I do, Tryst. Indeed I do. Another reason why I wanted you here was to pick your brains.’
Urtica walked to the door, opened it to check if anyone was around. He then locked it, drew Tryst into the furthest corner of the room. ‘We swear to the Ovinists now,’ he said, and Tryst understood what he meant.
Urtica placed an arm around Tryst’s shoulders. ‘Say our new Empress were to sign various decrees to… eliminate these refugees. Say she set things in motion secretly, and they were suddenly… revealed to the Council and the Inquisition. What would be the official outcome as denoted by the laws of the Empire?’
‘Well…’ Tryst began pondering the question, while he tried hard to recall his studies of the ancient and complicated laws of the Jamur Empire. ‘It would be considered an act of conspiracy of genocide against her own people – against the free people of the Empire. At the very least she would be stripped of her title, and probably executed. But this all depends – wouldn’t it be tantamount to a coup? How do we get the military on our side?’
‘The military do not serve Rika directly. They never served Johynn either – they take orders from the Council, so as to prevent a dictatorship. That’s why he never trusted any soldier apart from Commander Lathraea for most of the time. Don’t worry – I have pacts in place with certain senior officers.’
Tryst felt proud at this sign of proximity to his Ovinist leader, infatuated by their closeness. The man had thought of everything. He was an inspiration.
‘Now then, what I’m about to tell you will be extremely confidential. I will reward you with immense power after this is done, for I myself will ascend the ranks. At the very least you shall step from grade Minoris to Majoris…’
Power.
The dialogue had moved on, but the word still hung in the air like a noxious odour. Power was what he should have achieved in the Inquisition, and it was power that Jeryd had denied him simply because of his race. Power was what he wanted so badly, to prove himself worthy.
Tryst said, ‘I will honour your confidence, Magus Urtica.’
‘Good. Now, I fear this next discussion will require us to be somewhere even more private. Shall we?’
On one of the bridges overlooking the frosted spires, and well above this city suffocating under snow, Urtica discussed his concepts. It was to be a quick manoeuvre, a simple, brilliant plan. They would forge a decree of execution for the thousands of refugees, and have Rika’s signature on it. He would say that it was signed in the presence of not only Urtica, but also Tryst as a casual member of the Inquisition. He would make it appear as if Rika was issuing an order for the Inquisition torturers to go about removing the refugees and killing them. He could say that the Lady Eir would be there too, and forge her signature as well. Kill two birds, as it were. Other Ovinists could join in on the fun and pretend to have been ‘witnesses’, and those members in the Council could say that they had been asked to consult her on logistical matters about removing corpses from the city on a large scale.
Forgery: such a blissful art.
Ancient laws would then spring into motion – that no ruler can harm those under the starred banner of the Empire – and Rika and Eir would be arrested. Then executed. Chancellor Urtica, now hero of the moment, would himself be Emperor – the first of a new lineage. The Jamur Empire would be finished. The Urtican Empire would begin. All the while, no one would really notice if, given the right amount of stealth, Rika’s plans for removing the refugees went ahead…
Tryst felt satisfied as he looked upon his city. Felt proud to be involved with the genius that was Magus Urtica. Despite the Freeze, Tryst had suddenly regained a sanguine outlook on things.