Only five of these seats were occupied. Ulther lounged in the central throne with three other Wasp-kinden on one side and a Beetle on the other, all watching the newcomer’s approach intently.

‘Thalric!’ Ulther’s voice, though not loudly spoken, rang the entire length of the chamber, showing that the builder had done his work well. ‘Captain Thalric, as I sit here! Now tell me, how well have you done for yourself, since we parted company?’

Thalric saluted smartly before the tiered dais, although it took considerable skill to keep his initial reaction to the man’s changed appearance off his face. It’s been more than ten years, he reminded himself sharply but, excuses aside, being governor of Myna obviously suited the old man too well. That his hair was white now, instead of grey, was time’s due, but his belt now strained to keep his waist in check, and even the tailor’s skill was not enough to have the fine gold shirt conceal the man’s bulk. There were two chins resting above the topaz gorget, and a face that had been merely heavy when Myna had fallen was jowly now.

His hesitation was noticed. ‘Oh sit, sit,’ Ulther insisted without rancour. ‘When you’re my age even you will want to find a more sedentary way of serving the Empire – and then see where it gets you. The way I look at it, if I had simply gone home to my family and managed the farm, then I would look just as bad and nobody would mind. I don’t see why things should be so different just because I’m on public display all the time.’

Thalric ascended the steps and found a vacant seat, eyes flicking across to the others there.

‘Captain Thalric served with me during the conquest, and a fine officer too,’ Ulther explained for their benefit. ‘Thalric, these here are my advisors, at least for the present. Captain Oltan is Quartermaster Corps, and Captain Rauth is Intelligence.’ The two Wasps nodded towards Thalric suspiciously. ‘And then Masters Draywain and Freigen, who are with the Consortium of the Honest.’

The Consortium was the Empire’s attempt to regulate trade but, from what Thalric had heard from his Rekef contacts, it was a narrow battle over exactly who was regulating whom. He gave the Beetle-kinden and the bored-looking, middle-aged Wasp a nod. Perhaps it’s one of these who is responsible for strangling the supply lines. Perhaps I can exonerate Ulther after all.

And is that what the Rekef wants?

‘What brings you here, Captain? Come seeking promotion?’ Ulther grinned at him, and that grin, for all that aged and fleshy face, remained wholly familiar. Inwardly Thalric twisted. He had wanted a private audience with this man, a chance to speak frankly.

‘A change of pace, Colonel,’ he said easily. ‘It’s been a long time on the front line for me. I’ve been asking for a chance to rest my feet for months. They sent me here. Do I get my wish?’

‘We’re always busy here, Captain,’ Ulther said. ‘However,’ he added, avuncular, ‘I’m sure I can find you a tenday to lick your wounds. Make yourself at home in my city.’ When Thalric raised an eyebrow at that, Ulther’s smile broadened. ‘I’ve got Myna firmly in the palm of my hand, Thalric, and when it twitches I squeeze. It’s a simple lesson, though they never do seem to learn it.’ He clapped his hands and a moment later a dozen servants came in from a door behind them, bearing trays with flasks and goblets. ‘Let me show you what Myna can offer, shall we?’

‘I’m surprised, in a way, that you’ve not moved inwards, towards the capital,’ Thalric said. The servants attending them were all women, he noted, and all of them young. Not one of them was Mynan, either, which was undoubtedly a wise precaution for body slaves. Ulther had obviously ransacked the Empire for servants pleasing to the eye, and there were even a couple of Wasp-kinden amongst them.

‘Who would they get to replace me?’ Ulther took a goblet and watched appreciatively as a Spider-kinden slave poured it full. ‘I know Myna better than any, even better than the pestilential natives themselves. I keep a lid on the pot, you see, boil as it may. They would have risen up a few years back when Maynes did. They were all set, but I knew it in advance. Crucify a handful on the crossed pikes, arrest a few more, and then the families of the ringleaders packed off as slaves to Great Delve. A firm slap early on will stop a tantrum later.’

‘Very creditable,’ agreed Thalric. He helped himself from the tray of sweetmeats proffered to him, glancing up at the slave who served him. She was one of his own kinden, fair-haired and handsome, but she kept her eyes lowered, as slaves should.

‘These two,’ he said, indicating the pair of Wasp slaves. ‘Objectors or Indebted?’

‘Indebted, to the best of my knowledge. There’s a lot of them on the market these days, especially from the capital itself. Terrible, terrible situation.’ Ulther’s sympathy was transparent. ‘Still, I try to give ’em a good home, where I can.’

The young woman remained very still, and Thalric wondered what trauma she was now thinking back to: sold to pay her husband’s debts, or her father’s?

‘I’ll send her to your quarters later, if you want,’ Ulther offered. ‘We might as well make your stay here a memorable one.’

‘I’ll take you up on that,’ Thalric said. He sensed the woman stiffen slightly: a Wasp’s pride against being passed from hand to hand like a chattel. She was a chattel, though, merely a slave and a commodity. There was no more to it than that.

Thalric raised a goblet, and he and Ulther touched rims across the face of Captain Oltan.

‘Here’s to “memorable”,’ said Thalric, but he felt sad as he said it. Memorable, yes, but for all the wrong reasons.

Ulther settled more comfortably into his padded throne. ‘Speaking of memorable, or so I hope, I have now a little entertainment for you: a new jewel in my collection. I even understand that you yourself escorted her to my city.’

Thalric raised an eyebrow, even as he filed the repeated my city away for later perusal.

In answer, Ulther clapped his hands once more and the serving slaves retreated several steps behind the crescent of chairs. A moment later two men walked in, of local appearance. One was white-haired and bearded, and he cradled a stringed instrument that Thalric did not recognize, something like a stretched lyre. The other was little more than a boy and carried a small drum. They made themselves unobtrusive amongst the pillars and sat waiting. Thalric had already guessed what would come next, for a pair of soldiers then led the Butterfly-kinden dancer into the hall. Aagen’s special delivery. Inwardly, he made another note.

‘Well at least take the chain off her,’ Ulther directed. ‘She’s not a performing felbling.’

One of the soldiers closed the door whilst the other carefully unlatched the chain from the woman’s collar.

Thalric sipped his wine, which was sweeter than his taste preferred, and settled in for a wait. He had never much appreciated dancers or the like. He had caught a glimpse of this one performing before and she was good, but it was not his choice of entertainment.

The woman, named Grief in Chains as he recalled, stepped out until she was within a shaft of sunlight. It fed her skin so that the shifting colours there glowed and burned. From their unseen niche the musicians struck up, a slow picking of the strings at first, the drum a low but complex patter.

Grief in Chains moved, and she took the sunlight with her. It sparkled on her skin and ghosted like mist in the air behind her. And she began to dance.

Thalric maintained his lack of interest until the music changed tempo, the pace quickening bar after bar until she was spinning and leaping across from sunbeam to sunbeam. Then she was in the air, the iridescent shimmer of her Art-wings unfolding about her, and his breath caught despite himself.