Quicksilver Rising

‘You saved my life. That warrants some measure of trust.’

Caldason shrugged dismissively.

Kutch had fallen quiet during their exchange. Caldason noticed his crestfallen expression. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m hearing about a side of my master I never suspected. I mean, I knew he had no love for the state. Now it turns out he was involved in something big. Something important. But … I didn’t know. He never told me about any of this.’

‘It was for your own protection,’ Karr replied, ‘on the principle that what you didn’t know couldn’t endanger you. Domex was engaged in a selfless purpose. That’s why they killed him, whatever pretext they may have used. Have no doubts about that. You’ve every reason to be proud of him, Kutch.’

The boy swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. ‘Is it because of this plan of yours that the government wants you dead?’

‘Perhaps. I don’t fool myself that they’re entirely ignorant of it. There are informers and spies enough in the dissident ranks.’

‘That messenger glamour in the likeness of a bird. It was sent to warn you of the attack?’

‘Yes, by associates in Valdarr. I could have wished it had arrived earlier! There’s treachery in my circle, and lately near to hand. But I think it more probable this latest attempt on my life was because I’m a general thorn in the authorities’ side. My death at the hands of apparently common brigands would suit them well.’

‘They’ve tried before?’

‘Several times.’ Karr sounded as though he took pride in it.

Caldason broke in with, ‘Why should they bother killing one of their own?’

The patrician regarded him narrowly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The way I see it you are the government, or near as damn. You play their game.’

Karr laughed, half cynically, half genuinely amused. ‘You have a properly jaundiced view of authority. Politics has been my way of challenging the state. I don’t claim to be very effectual, and at best my views are barely tolerated, but it’s what I do.’

‘How much bread does it put in hungry mouths? When does it ever favour the weak over the strong?’

‘You’re right, politics is a fraud. I know. I’ve been a practitioner of the black art all my life. It makes accommodations, turns a blind eye, appeases those who tyrannise us.’

‘That’s rare honesty from your kind. So why bother with it?’

‘Because I believed governance was about the best interests of the citizenry; that the system could curb the excesses of our colonial rulers, maybe even help break their hold. They’ve branded me for that belief.’

‘I’ve heard. They call you naive, militant, insurrectionist, radical –’

‘And they call you pitiless.’

‘Depends on who’s doing the calling.’

‘Exactly.’

Kutch said, ‘If it means getting out from under those who grind people’s faces, isn’t radical a good thing to be?’

Karr smiled. ‘Well put.’

‘It was something my master used to say,’ the boy admitted, a little shamefaced.

‘Then it’s to your credit that you honour him by repeating it.’

Caldason shifted, looked down at Karr. ‘This great scheme of yours, it’s some kind of political manoeuvre?’

‘Politics … plays its part.’

‘What are the other parts?’

‘Protest takes more than one path.’

‘That sounds like another way of saying it’s something to do with the Resistance.’

Karr held his gaze. ‘I’m with the Opposition. Others are the Resistance.’

‘They’ve been known to shade together.’

‘As I said, our rulers slander those who stand against them. They’d have people believe all their opponents are terrorists.’

‘Does that mean you think the Resistance are terrorists?’

‘Why, do you?’

‘No.’ He glanced Kutch’s way and added caustically, ‘But then I’m an outlaw, remember.’

‘What’s your point, Caldason?’

‘Any plan meant to really change things would have to involve the Resistance to stand a chance.’

‘I repeat: opposition takes many forms. There are peace-loving witnesses of conscience and priests who disagree with the regime, let alone revolutionaries, agitators, proto-democrats and the rest. Even the Fellowship of the Righteous Blade’s no longer dormant. Did you know they’d reformed?’

‘So it’s said.’

‘Who are they?’ Kutch asked.

‘They’re an ancient martial order,’ Karr told him, ‘founded on patriotism. Their ranks boast some of the finest swordsmen in the land, and they’ve helped keep alive a tradition of valour that was once universally respected. They’ve often appeared in times when this country’s independence was threatened.’

‘And proved inept, if Bhealfa’s present state’s anything to go by,’ Caldason remarked.

‘Perhaps they would have achieved more if they’d had greater support from the rest of us,’ Karr replied pointedly. ‘At least they’re doing something.’

‘If you think a bunch of idealists with outmoded notions of chivalry have much to contribute to your cause, I suppose they are.’

‘Dissent isn’t as black and white as you think. The few politicians of my persuasion need all the allies we can get; we’re fleas on the backs of oxen.’

‘That just about sums up the size of your task.’

‘Even an ox can be brought low by enough flea bites.’