Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 372
22
"You’ll have to pardon me if I seem a bit out of sorts,"
said Armiger as he sat down opposite General Matthias. "I was
chatting with one of your men on the battlements when a rock
from one of Parliament’s steam cannon took his head off."
Matthias grimaced. "I heard about that. Happened this
morning. Lavin’s a devil, a positive devil. And the queen
admires him! That’s the damndest part. Listen, I’ve got a little
beer here from our emergency stock. Care for a cup?"
Armiger nodded. He had talked briefly with Matthias
twice, but the man was understandably busy--and, it seemed,
wary. It was that wariness that had made Armiger ask for this
meeting; he needed Matthias on his side.
They sat in Matthias’ tiny office in one of the palace’s
outbuildings. Outside the single small window a dismal drizzle
fell on the tents of the refugees. It was oppressively quiet
today.
Matthias poured two pints of pale beer and they both
tasted it. Armiger noticed that his hands were shaking slightly;
the incident on the wall had shocked him more than he would
have believed possible. It was only a man who had been
destroyed, after all. And while Armiger might have lost his
own head had he been standing a meter closer, he could have
grown another one, given enough time. He had no rational
reason to be upset. But he was. He was.