Page 45 of A Trade of Blood

I drew closer to observe. One masked officer was strolling along, breathing the airs from his pot with a serene look on his face, like amendicant at meditation. I glanced at his pot and saw that he appeared to be churning simple grass and leaves within it—more or less exactly what the others had been snipping from the fields.

I peered at his heralds, hoping they could offer some explanation. They merely told me the fellow was a spatiast: another type of Imperial Sublime, like myself, but whereas I was augmented to perfectly remember all I experienced, a spatiast was augmented to analyze, capture, and manipulate physical distances to an inhumanly perfect degree. This made them astonishing artists, mapmakers, and engineers—and, occasionally, deadly crack shots. But I had never heard of spatiasts ambling about huffing muddy waters like a mood-addict puffing at a tincture.

The officer looked up at me with a queer bliss to his gaze.

“Ahh—apologies,” I said. “Didn’t meant to interrupt.”

He blinked and smiled a little. Then he extended a hand to me, his thumb, index, and middle finger stuck straight out, his ring and pinky curledin.

I rode alongside him, waiting for the meaning of the gesture to become apparent. When this did not occur, I coughed and said, “Are you all right, sir?”

Then a calm, loud voice from ahead: “What do you want?”

I looked up. The figure in the cart was now leaning over the arm of his throne, his masked face still resting in the palm of his hand (for I sensed the voice was male—perhaps). He watched me with a rather bored expression while the cart trundled along, wheels squeaking.

“I’m Signum Dinios Kol, sir,” I said. “From the Iudex. I wished to speak to the Orbiis commanding officer, if I cou—”

“Ohh,” he said, as if disappointed. “Did you.” He raised a hand, and the parade came to a halt. Then he sat there for a long while, blinking slowly, and again leaned forward to peer atme.

“You,” he said finally, “are wearing blue.”

“I…yes. That is so.”

“Adarkblue. Not the light blue of the canton custodi.”

“Ah. Yes. That is also true.”

“Mm. So—you are Iudex, then!” he said with a touch of pride, as if he’d just solved a tricky puzzle. “For onlytheywear dark blue.”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “I…believe I said that.”

“Did you?” he said absently. “I can’t recall…You said so much, after all.”

I frowned, aware that I had only said a handful of words at most.

“So—what is it you wish to talk about?” said the fellow. “We’re very busy today, chap. Got a lot of fields to review. Many samples to taste, and flora to sample. The wet season comes, and with it many molds, many invasive species floating downstream, many rivulets and ravines slashing through.” He studied me again. “That horse is much too small for you, by the way.”

I struggled to get ahold of this conversation. “I…wished to speak to the commanding officer of the Orbiis here, if I could, regarding a specific organism.”

“Ohh?” said the fellow. He pushed his blond hair back with a flamboyant flick. “How intriguing…I don’t often get chaps riding out of nowhere wishing to chat about organisms. Even specific ones. Which one might you mean?”

“The guiding web,” I said.

Instantly, all the Orbiis officers—even the ones who were masked and tasting of the churned grass-waters—turned to look atme.

The throned fellow’s dreaminess dropped like a curtain. “Ahh,” he said. “That one.”

“Yes.”

“Well. Shit,” he muttered. He reached up and began to unbuckle his mask. “Then I shall help you. I am Commander Raudoti Tauri, the lead officer of the Orbiis here. But…” He paused. “I note—you are Iudex.”

“Yes?” I said warily. I did not wish to revisit this subject again.

“I have actually never met a Iudex officer. And you are here to talk to me…aboutthe guiding web?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Then that would suggest something…well, criminal has occurred regarding its use.”