‘It does not surprise me, Atri-Preda, that your kind saw it that way. And I do not doubt that such concerns were present in the mind of the Warlock King. Did we conquer you in order to survive? Perhaps.’ Brohl considered saying more, then he shook his head, watching as four wardogs closed on a wounded cattle dog. The lame beast fought back, but was soon down, kicking, then silent and limp as the wardogs tore open its belly.
Bivatt asked, ‘Do you ever wonder, Overseer, which of us truly won that war?’
He shot her a dark look. ‘No, I do not. Your scouts have found no other signs of Awl in this area, I understand. So now the Factor will consolidate the Letherii claim in the usual fashion?’
The Atri-Preda nodded. ‘Outposts. Forts, raised roads. Settlers will follow.’
‘And then, the Factor will extend his covetous intentions, yet further east.’
‘As you say, Overseer. Of course, I am sure you recognize the acquisitions gift the Tiste Edur as well. The empire’s territory expands. I am certain the Emperor will be pleased.’
This was Brohl Handar’s second week as governor of Drene. There were few Tiste Edur in this remote corner of Rhulad’s empire, less than a hundred, and only his three staff members were from Brohl’s own tribe, the Arapay. The annexation of Awl’dan by what amounted to wholesale genocide had begun years ago-long before the Edur conquest-and the particulars of rule in far Letheras seemed to have little relevance to this military campaign. Brohl Handar, the patriarch of a clan devoted to hunting tusked seals, wondered-not for the first time-what he was doing here.
Titular command as Overseer seemed to involve little more than observation. The true power of rule was with Letur Anict, the Factor of Drene, who ‘is highly ranked in the Liberty Consign’. Some kind of guild of merchants, he had learned, although he had no idea what, precisely, was liberating about this mysterious organization. Unless, of course, it was the freedom to do as they pleased. Including the use of imperial troops to aid in the acquisition of ever more wealth.
‘Atri-Preda.’
‘Yes, Overseer?’
‘These Awl-do they fight back? No, not as they did today. I mean, do they mount raids? Do they mass their warriors on the path to all-out war?’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘Overseer, there are two… well, levels, to this.’
‘Levels. What does that mean?’
‘Official and… unofficial. It is a matter of perception.’
‘Explain.’
‘The belief of the common folk, as promulgated through imperial agents, is that the Awl have allied themselves with the Ak’ryn to the south, as well as the D’rhasilhani and the two kingdoms of Bolkando and Saphinand-in short, all the territories bordering the empire-creating a belligerent, warmongering and potentially overwhelming force-the Horde of the Bolkando Conspiracy-that threatens the entire eastern territories of the Lether Empire. It is only a matter of time before that horde is fully assembled, whereupon it will march. Accordingly, every attack launched by the Letherii military serves to diminish the numbers the Awl can contribute, and furthermore, the loss of valuable livestock in turn weakens the savages. Famine may well manage what swords alone cannot-the entire collapse of the Awl.’
‘I see. And the unofficial version?’
She glanced across at him. ‘There is no conspiracy, Overseer. No alliance. The truth is, the Awl continue to light among themselves-their grazing land is shrinking, after all. And they despise the Ak’ryn and the D’rhasilhani, and have probably never met anyone from Bolkando or Saphinand.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘We did clash with a mercenary company of some sort, two months past-the disastrous battle that spurred your appointment, I suspect. They numbered perhaps seven hundred, and after a half-dozen skirmishes I led a force of six thousand Letherii in pursuit. Overseer, we lost almost three thousand soldiers in that final battle. If not for our mages…’ She shook her head. ‘And we still have no idea who they were.’
Brohl studied the woman. He had known nothing about any such clash. The reason for his appointment? Perhaps. ‘The official version you spoke of earlier-the lie-justifies the slaughter of the Awl, in the eyes of the commonry. All of which well serves the Factor’s desire to make himself yet richer. I see. Tell me, Atri-Preda, why does Letur Anict need all that gold? What does he do with it?’
The woman shrugged. ‘Gold is power,’
‘Power over whom?’
‘Anyone, and everyone.’
‘Excepting the Tiste Edur, who are indifferent to the Letherii idea of wealth.’
