Almost the entire outer wall of Bruckin was an airship dock of some kind, with vessels coming and going day and night, casting their shadows on the dwellings outside the walls and offloading cargo or picking up materials to deliver elsewhere in the valley. The wall was split into separate zones, with industrial traffic sent to one section while diplomatic passengers disembarked in more grandiose fashion. Roldan Stryke moved through the streets inside the walls, the inner edges of the docks occasionally visible high above where they jutted out into space, or connected via walkway to taller buildings. He was near to where he and Martoc had arrived on their previous visit, in the winding streets and alleys below the mail depot. Trade continued as ever, despite the growing presence of the king's army on the horizon. Jokes were made about how the king was taking military exercises very seriously these days, or noting that the army must have been especially disoriented to be so far from Treydolain; the unspoken understanding was that conflict was inevitable and would become a reality soon, but in the meantime the ships came and went as ever, flying high above the massed forces on the expansive, grassy plains.
Roldan had his target in sight. It had taken over a week to track him down, a process made altogether simpler by the cooperation of the Bruckin security forces. Garrus Lief had been exceedingly pleased with the news he'd delivered on his arrival. Roldan hadn't enjoyed sharing knowledge of the King's Eyes movements within Bruckin but it had been a necessary divulgence; besides, the King's Eyes were gone - the cell which remained in Bruckin was isolated, caught in the in-between of the looming conflict.
The hooded man up ahead had paused to examine the contents of a street-side food stall. It was a ploy, Roldan knew, to test whether he was indeed being followed. The man had one arm near his side, presumably ready to draw a weapon.
Roldan approached and stood next to the man. "How are you?" he asked. He pointed at the food frying in a pan before them. "Can I buy you lunch?"
Turning his head, Michels face was neutral and expressionless. After a few seconds he shrugged and turned his mouth up ever so slightly.
They sat on rickety chairs around an unstable table below the overhang of a tall building while the food was prepared. Roldan stared across at Michels, the former head of the local King's Eye intelligence group.
"I've got people all around here," Michels said. "They will not hesitate, not for a second, if they think you're going to try to take me in."
"I've got my own people now," Roldan said.
"We know. You've been keeping strange company, Stryke."
"You heard what happened?"
They fell silent as plates of hot, steaming meat and vegetables were deposited onto the table. The cook fussed over them for a few moments, then realised that he was unwanted and returned to his kiosk.
"A lot has happened," Michels noted. "Are you referring to anything in particular?"
Sitting back in his chair, wondering in the back of his mind whether it would continue to hold his weight, Roldan kept his eyes on the other man. "King's Eyes are gone."
Michels nodded. He took a bite of the meat, holding it in his hands, appreciated it slowly, then put it back on the plate. "That's why I heard. I also heard you were there. That you were the only survivor."
Spreading his arms wide, Roldan smiled. "I'm still here, aren't I? I'd already got out. Lucky, really. They killed everyone."
"Who did it?"
"I wasn't able to get any real information. I can only assume that Guijus ordered it."
"He wouldn't do that."
"He's a king," Roldan said. "He can do what he pleases."
Michels raised his eyebrows. "You've been doing a lot of thinking."
"It's the times we live in."
Gesturing at the food, then the buildings towering around them, Michels continued. "Why are we here, Stryke? Who are you working for now?"
It was Roldan's turn to eat, while he considered his words. He'd never known Michels, had never worked with him before, so didn't know how to read the man. "I'm working with Bruckin for now. That's how I found you. Beyond that? Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing."
"And what do you want from me?"
"Not just you. All of your people. Sounds like you're still in contact with your group. You know what's coming. What's outside those gates. Everyone needs to work out which side they're on, and quickly."
Michels dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "And if I'm not on your side?"
"Then I won't hesitate to take you down," Roldan said. This was reminding him of the good, old days.
"Doesn't have to be like that. You let me go now, maybe you'll never see me again."
Picking up a chunk of bread, Roldan mopped up the gravy on his plate. "Listen," he said, "there are factors at play here that you're not aware of."
"I hear a lot of things. Even with the network down."
Pushing the plate away, Roldan looked up at the sliver of sky above, casting its feeble light down into the canyon between the buildings."Keep this to yourself, but I've heard credible reports that King Guijus is no longer the main in charge. Queen Anja's calling the shots, now."
"That is hardly news."
"She also has a magical suit of armour which she used to personally decimate Baron Lief's personal guard and scuttle the Black Scree."
Michels stared back impassively, his lack of response telling in of itself. "I heard that was an accident with the docking rig."
"It happened while she was assassinating Baron Lief."
"Then he is dead? There have been confused reports from the court."
It was Roldan's turn to betray nothing and maintain a neutral face. Until he ascertained Michel's intentions, it would be best to withhold his knowledge of Lief's survival. "It's been covered up. I saw the wreckage. The bodies. It was a hit, through-and-through."
"You've got my attention," Michels said. "I'll contact you. Thank you for lunch."
Abruptly, he stood and departed, pulling his hood back up as he blended into the flow of people going about their days. Roldan could have him seized with a gesture, but that would serve no purpose. There was nowhere Michels could go in the city where he would not be found again; regardless, Roldan had a feeling he'd be back.
Throwing a couple of coins at the vendor, Roldan walked off in the opposite direction. Since returning he'd tried to summon memories of his early childhood, but the streets remained elusive and unfamiliar, refusing to accept him as one of their own. The smoke from the explosions at the shipyard had long since dispersed but Roldan could swear the smell lingered still in the air Perhaps it was the dust that had blown over the mountains after the tremors, settling insistently on anything that didn't move. Whatever had happened to the north had shook the entire continent.
The heat of Bruckin steamed into the frigid air and Roldan felt more acutely aware of his dislocation than ever. Though he'd always wandered, the capital had always been an anchor - a central fulcrum around which his life had pivoted. Setting foot on Treydolain streets would now get him killed. He'd come to an arrangement with Lief, but that was possible only because he was not connected to the shipyard sabotage. It was only a matter of time before he was recognised, or somebody put the pieces together. Perhaps the army would attack before that happened, then there would be bigger things to worry about. Perhaps they would all be killed in the siege.
He turned his thoughts back towards Lagnin, that small village at the foot of a glacier, nestled in the shadow of the Barrier Mountains. He remembered the little girl that always ran to meet him when the ice ship arrived at the dock on the outskirts of the forest. To his dismay, her name eluded him. What was her name? He'd spoken to her every month on every visit, when she'd conveniently insisted on updating him on village activity. At least Lagnin was far from matters of state and the egos of kings and barons. Perhaps he could go there when all this was over.
Of course, without some kind of miracle, Bruckin wouldn't survive a direct onslaught by the combined Lagonian forces. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was on the right side, and whose orders he should be following.