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Authors: Adrian Tchaikovsky
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like the Antspider feel normal.
‘You!’ Breaker suddenly spat out, the word shot through with loathing. ‘Out!’
And then there’s that : a pale young man had just appeared in the doorway, late and yet still managing to pick his moment.
‘What does that think it’s doing?’ Corog Breaker, veteran and conservative, had been given a target for his temper.
Is it me again? Do I get to do my usual grand job of salvaging the situation? the Antspider was thinking. But Eujen was already standing up to receive the brunt of Corog’s wrath.
‘Master Breaker, this is our fourth.’
‘I will not have it in the Forum.’ Breaker’s voice came out dangerously low.
‘Master Breaker, Averic has been accepted as a student of the College,’ Eujen pressed on, all formal politeness.
‘I’ll not have a Wasp in the Forum.’
‘What authority have you?’ Eujen Leadswell managed, in the face of Breaker’s wrath.
‘I am Master Armsman of the College,’ Breaker thundered. ‘If I say he’s not to set foot on these tiles, he’s banned. Bring your complaints to the Masters,
do. Let’s see how many of them have any cursed sympathy with you. Or don’t you think they were up on the walls doing their piece when that lad’s Empire came?’ The last words
saw Breaker’s face rammed close to Eujen’s. ‘Just you think, boy, about what your choice of friends says about you.’
With that, Breaker had clearly had enough. He stormed out, choosing the doorway that Averic had been hovering in, forcing the young Wasp to back out quickly to avoid being knocked aside. The
brief quiet that Breaker had been speaking into degenerated almost instantly into a storm of gossip, much of it derogatory and aimed at the Dregs.
Eujen looked over at Averic. The young Wasp had his fixed smile on, the one he used whenever his kinden became an issue. He had not taken one step forward.
‘Leadswell!’ It was one of the opposing team, a burly man named Hallend, shouldering his way through the crowd that was already breaking into clumps spread out across the fighting
ring. ‘What were you thinking, bringing one of them ? You think that they understand any kind of fighting but the real thing?’
‘You think he’d beat you to death with a wooden sword?’ Eujen asked witheringly.
‘I think I know his lot’s temper,’ Hallend spat back. ‘And if not now, then later – a knife in some dark alley, or that sting of his. We all know how they like to win. I lost an uncle to his kind in the war,’ Hallend persisted. ‘My parents fought his people to keep our city free. And now their spies are walking about in daylight, students
at the College.’
‘My father died in the Vekken siege,’ Eujen snapped, ‘and now the Vekken are our new great friends and allies. How was that achieved, save that Maker’s party reached out
to them? Two generations ago we counted Sarn a great threat to our north, but then we went to them with open hands.’ He gave Hallend the chance to draw breath for a rebuttal, and then spoke
over him fiercely. ‘But every Makerist agitator in the Assembly tells us there must be war with the Empire. We must not trade with the Empire. We must be on our guard against the
Empire’s spies. Is there some moral difference between Vek and the Wasps? No, it is just the fact that the Empire is far away, and so the Makerists can rail at it with impunity. It is because
the Empire is large, and so they see too great an effort in converting it to our philosophies, so they do not try. It is because the Empire seems set to last, and it is convenient for some men to
have a strong enemy abroad. What other tyrannies are hidden at home when all eyes look over the wall for an army? What taxes, what confiscations, what laws are passed? Does the Empire hate us more
than Vek has hated us? No. Is the Empire the unrelenting, irredeemable evil that the Makerists paint it? No. The distinction is not one of morality but one of
‘You!’ Breaker suddenly spat out, the word shot through with loathing. ‘Out!’
And then there’s that : a pale young man had just appeared in the doorway, late and yet still managing to pick his moment.
‘What does that think it’s doing?’ Corog Breaker, veteran and conservative, had been given a target for his temper.
Is it me again? Do I get to do my usual grand job of salvaging the situation? the Antspider was thinking. But Eujen was already standing up to receive the brunt of Corog’s wrath.
‘Master Breaker, this is our fourth.’
‘I will not have it in the Forum.’ Breaker’s voice came out dangerously low.
‘Master Breaker, Averic has been accepted as a student of the College,’ Eujen pressed on, all formal politeness.
‘I’ll not have a Wasp in the Forum.’
‘What authority have you?’ Eujen Leadswell managed, in the face of Breaker’s wrath.
‘I am Master Armsman of the College,’ Breaker thundered. ‘If I say he’s not to set foot on these tiles, he’s banned. Bring your complaints to the Masters,
do. Let’s see how many of them have any cursed sympathy with you. Or don’t you think they were up on the walls doing their piece when that lad’s Empire came?’ The last words
saw Breaker’s face rammed close to Eujen’s. ‘Just you think, boy, about what your choice of friends says about you.’
With that, Breaker had clearly had enough. He stormed out, choosing the doorway that Averic had been hovering in, forcing the young Wasp to back out quickly to avoid being knocked aside. The
brief quiet that Breaker had been speaking into degenerated almost instantly into a storm of gossip, much of it derogatory and aimed at the Dregs.
Eujen looked over at Averic. The young Wasp had his fixed smile on, the one he used whenever his kinden became an issue. He had not taken one step forward.
‘Leadswell!’ It was one of the opposing team, a burly man named Hallend, shouldering his way through the crowd that was already breaking into clumps spread out across the fighting
ring. ‘What were you thinking, bringing one of them ? You think that they understand any kind of fighting but the real thing?’
‘You think he’d beat you to death with a wooden sword?’ Eujen asked witheringly.
‘I think I know his lot’s temper,’ Hallend spat back. ‘And if not now, then later – a knife in some dark alley, or that sting of his. We all know how they like to win. I lost an uncle to his kind in the war,’ Hallend persisted. ‘My parents fought his people to keep our city free. And now their spies are walking about in daylight, students
at the College.’
‘My father died in the Vekken siege,’ Eujen snapped, ‘and now the Vekken are our new great friends and allies. How was that achieved, save that Maker’s party reached out
to them? Two generations ago we counted Sarn a great threat to our north, but then we went to them with open hands.’ He gave Hallend the chance to draw breath for a rebuttal, and then spoke
over him fiercely. ‘But every Makerist agitator in the Assembly tells us there must be war with the Empire. We must not trade with the Empire. We must be on our guard against the
Empire’s spies. Is there some moral difference between Vek and the Wasps? No, it is just the fact that the Empire is far away, and so the Makerists can rail at it with impunity. It is because
the Empire is large, and so they see too great an effort in converting it to our philosophies, so they do not try. It is because the Empire seems set to last, and it is convenient for some men to
have a strong enemy abroad. What other tyrannies are hidden at home when all eyes look over the wall for an army? What taxes, what confiscations, what laws are passed? Does the Empire hate us more
than Vek has hated us? No. Is the Empire the unrelenting, irredeemable evil that the Makerists paint it? No. The distinction is not one of morality but one of
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