Father Orlov said nothing.
I am the highest-ranking Vigilant on the island.
‘Perhaps you can drag yourself away from the cremations to start acting like it,’ replied Father Orlov, before turning smartly and marching towards Academy Plamya.
Silverdust would have sighed had he still had lungs to breathe with. The north-eastern wind howled more loudly in Father Orlov’s absence and Silverdust turned towards the gatehouse and approached the top of the stone stairs. White-tipped waves smashed against the dark stone of the cove far below. For a fleeting second Silverdust saw the ghostly outline of a ship. A second later and the vision had gone. A vision of the future, Silverdust decided. Guests would soon arrive on Vladibogdan.
Silverdust delegated as much as possible to the few Vigilants who had survived the uprising in the days that followed. He appointed Father Orlov as his deputy for no other reason than to keep a close eye on the man. Taking over Felgenhauer’s old office didn’t sit well with Silverdust, but necessity demanded his discomfort. The Matriarch-Commissar had never been given to decoration but had kept a fine selection of books, which Silverdust distracted himself with, despite having read them all a long time ago. A knock sounded on the door and Silverdust set aside the book he was reading with a flicker of irritation.
Enter.
The door creaked open and a half-starved waif of around ten years stared at the Exarch with wide eyes.
Fear not, I will do you no harm. There is a message, I assume.
The boy nodded, then blinked and shook his head.
‘No, not really. A ship has arrived and all the other Vigilants have gone down to the cove to greet it. I …’ The boy swallowed. ‘I thought you should know.’
I imagine Father Orlov is keen to make a good first impression and give his side of the story.
The boy nodded. ‘C-can I do anything for you, Exarch-Commissar?’
Silverdust wanted to laugh at hearing such a title.
Fetch me tea from the kitchen and instruct the cooks to make a fine stew – one fit for an Envoy. Go now and do not delay.
The boy pushed his fringe out of his eyes and raced out of Felgenhauer’s office as fast as he could. His office – not Felgenhauer’s office, Silverdust lamented, not any more. The boy departed with such haste he failed to close the door behind him, giving Silverdust a clear view to the antechamber beyond and the doorway that led to the stairwell. He spread his hands on the wide featureless table, waiting to meet the person he would have to spin a web of lies to.
The Envoy, when she arrived, appeared in the antechamber sheathed in blue silk with a stole made from a winter fox, the fur white and stark. Her smile was bitter and she sauntered into the room with a swagger that was almost theatrical.
‘Silverdust. There you are! Well, I thought I’d suffered a setback or two, but it seems Vladibogdan has endured nothing less than a catastrophe.’
Silverdust rose from his chair and bowed deeply. Now wasn’t the time for petty acts of ignored etiquette.
Envoy de Vries. We are honoured by your presence. How fares the Empire?
De Vries approached the office door, a circular portal, and made herself a work of art, leaning casually on the door frame.
‘The Empire is strong as ever, dearest Silverdust, but her forces.’ Envoy de Vries pursed her lips and tutted. ‘Shirinov and Khigir both dead, I hear. And a half dozen other members of the Holy Synod. And your precious Felgenhauer …’ The Envoy sighed and looked away as if she had become distracted, though Silverdust knew full well she was waiting for his reaction. He gave her none and the silence stretched between them until the Envoy turned to face him once more.
How may I serve, Envoy de Vries?
‘So inscrutable, Silverdust. So mysterious.’ The Envoy slunk into the room and sat down, putting her feet up on the desk. ‘What is it you actually do on this island, Exarch?’
I serve at the Emperor’s pleasure. Silverdust did not sit. He could sense Father Orlov waiting on the staircase, out of sight, yet close enough to eavesdrop. Silverdust could practically feel the man straining to hear, though the conversation would be one-sided due to his reliance on telepathy.
‘You don’t teach’ – the Envoy counted off on her fingers – ‘you don’t run the stores, you don’t organise the soldiers. You don’t perform any role or task as far as I can see.’
I am old. Felgenhauer, in her mercy, let me retire here. Not true, of course. Silverdust had carefully delegated more and more of his teaching duties until none remained.
‘I see,’ said the Envoy. ‘Well, Felgenhauer, in her mercy, gave me the slip while I was escorting her back to our beloved Emperor.’
How very unfortunate, Envoy de Vries.
‘Indeed.’ She forced a smile that could curdle milk. ‘The Emperor is very keen to hear what manner of events were taking place here on Vladibogdan leading to the uprising.’
He has always been the most curious soul. He was also impatient and bloodthirsty and petty, but Silverdust declined to mention this.
‘It seems the Emperor should have heeded Shirinov’s repeated requests, official and otherwise, for an audience.’
You would need to speak to Shirinov regarding his grievances. He never shared his concerns with me.
The Envoy stood and slammed her palm on the desk, but Silverdust did not flinch.
‘Shirinov is dead! And here you are, a supposed-retired Exarch, running Vladibogdan. What the Hel happened here? Who is Steiner Vartiainen, and why were you seen speaking with him after the uprising here?’ She leaned over the desk, struggling to keep her composure.
I stand behind this desk for no other reason than Father Orlov asked me to. Felgenhauer had some attachment to the boy, a boy without witchsign no less. He was brought here by mistake. Silverdust leaned over the desk, looming taller than the Envoy. Brought here by Shirinov’s mistake. The boy was sent to work in the forges and somehow entered into an agreement with the cinderwraiths. They massacred the soldiers and then the Vartiainen boy took wing on a dragon. He returned with a ship and took off with two dozen novices and most of our food. The ship sank in bad weather no more than two miles after they set out.
Envoy de Vries straightened up, adjusted her stole and smoothed back her hair. She stared at Silverdust for long moments then smiled, before giggling. Before long she had slipped into the chair, laughing uncontrollably. She all but shouted when her laughter stopped.
‘He left the island on a fucking dragon!’
Silverdust said nothing. The silence was interrupted as the waif entered the room and set the tray of food and tea down on the desk.
‘Well, I can’t fault your hospitality, Silverdust,’ said the Envoy as she lifted the lid of a small ceramic pot to reveal the stew inside.
