by Wil Clayton
A Strange Song of Madness
Part 2
Wil Clayton
Long Shadows on a Wide Plain series
Copyright 2015 Wil Clayton
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Chapter 14
Shaol held himself against the metal casing of the barrel as it rocked from the movement of the wagon beneath.
Two days had passed since Shaol had taken to the streets of the city in the early morning wrapped in the clothes of the dead. Shaol found his way to a dirt alley across from meat store and waited until Yor emerged from within carrying a large cut of salted meat for an Under. Yor's bald head reflected the morning light, he had lost his ferret skin cap since Shaol had seen him last. When the deal was done and the Under was on his way home with the meat, Yor crossed the street and approached Shaol.
"They said they got you," said Yor.
"They did," replied Shaol.
"Pysuun?"
"I need you to get me on the next run."
Yor sighed and ground his teeth.
"Come inside," he said finally.
Shaol waited for the run amongst the carcasses. The hole in his side slowly mended, helped by the paste that burnt it clean and held it shut. The small amount of time Shaol had left was passing but there was nothing he could do to change that, so he sat on his stool and tried not to think on what was done. No one came for him, no one spoke to him, the silence only interrupted by the occasional appearance of Yor when he came to collect a lump of meat and salt that was needed.
The day of the goods run came and Yor entered the room in with a single barrel and Shaol lowered himself into it.
"Thank you," said Shaol as he climbed into the barrel, "I'll be back for you."
Yor shook his head and handed Shaol a pry bar.
"You'll need this to get out," said Yor simply.
Shaol lowered himself into the space.
"Its a good thing your small," sighed Yor looking down at him and then added, "don't end up like Pysuun, lad."
Shaol did not respond, he just lowered his head and positioned himself in the barrel. Yor placed the top on the barrel and hammered it shut. The world was dark as things shuffled in the room outside, then the barrel lurched to the side and up.
"What's in this?" grunted someone as the barrel fell back to the ground.
"Salt," said Yor, "don't spill it."
"A hand," called the voice.
The barrel tipped again and Shaol held himself in place, the pry bar started to slip but he was able to grab it before it hit the metal. The barrel swayed as it was carried from the room then came the sounds of the street. The ones who carried the barrel grunted, the barrel dropped onto the wagon and then it started to roll, tumbling Shaol over as it went. The pry bar flew free and started to bounce around the small space, Shaol quickly grabbed the pry bar as it flew past him and held it tight.
"Fix it with some bags," came Yor's voice.
Shaol sighed to himself, no one had heard the pry bar. The barrel jolted as things were thrown against it. Shaol sat quietly in the dark with the cold metal gripped in hand as the rest of the goods were packed around him and then the wagon lurched forward, though the city and towards the gate.
The wagon came to a stop as it had reached the mouth of the gate. Shaol's stomach dropped as the realisation came to him, it had taken so much to get here, he was alone, he was wounded but he would not fail the ones that still waited for him.
The barrel was rolled from the wagon and it tipped again, it rocked for a few moments and then hit the ground. A shudder went through the barrel and into Shaol's body, his chested ached, still hurt from the blow he had taken from the metal pole.
Shaol heard someone grunt as the barrel lifted again, it did not tip this time as it was carried by a guard beyond the gate and into the tunnel.
Soon, the barrel was loaded onto the second the wagon, the ones who laboured outside made no sound as they went about their task and then the wagon rolled forward to its final resting place somewhere within the belly of the fortress.
Now, Shaol sat listened to the sound of metal wheels scrapping on the tunnel's stone floor outside the barrel.
The world started to lean as the wagon made a long, slow left, then it suddenly swung back as there was a quick right and then it stopped. The goods were unpacked, the barrel was lifted and placed on the ground, then the wagon wheels started to scrap again as they were pulled away.
Shaol listened. He heard nothing for a good amount of time, so he took the pry bar in hand, put it to the edge of the top, tapped it and worked the pry bar between the barrel and the top, the metal bowed and the cover came free.
Shaol tilted the top and looked up through the small gap. All he could see were thin, stone pillars which soared above, capped by large arches holding a stone roof which reflected the soft, half light of torches. There were no walls in sight, the barrel was sitting in the open.
Shaol lowered the top still feeling unsure, he would give it some more time, the goods wagon may still be nearby, Unders may come to fetch goods for the Masters, guards may pass on a patrol.
Time passed and as it did Shaol grew more confident as nothing moved outside the barrel. He lifted the top and raised his head above the rim. The room stretched out in every direction, there were no walls, only the widely spaced, thin pillars between which sat countless piles of goods. Food, wood, stone, fabric, leather, tools and many other strange objects, which Shaol had never seen before. Each pile sat unattended and unguarded in the soft orange light of torches that had been secured to the pillars.
Shaol pulled himself from the barrel and looked for a place to hide but every pile was as exposed as the next. In the distance, Shaol could see the black wall and the large gate which started the path back to the city. The gate was as tall here as the one that towered over the city, but there were no guards, only two large, black braziers taller than three men which sat on either side of the gate, unlit and abandoned.
Shaol looked behind, away from the black wall, there he saw stone steps which rose from the floor and climbed all the way to roof and disappeared to the left and right into the half light. The piles of goods in front of the steps were unlit, a good place to hide and decide how to move forward. Shaol made his way toward the steps.
"Shaol," called Raphtune's voice, "this way."
Shaol's eyes scanned the space ahead, the young boy's head stuck out from behind a pile of stone and bricks, crouched low to the ground. Raphtune did not wait for a response, the face disappeared, Sh
aol hurried forward and when he reached the bricks he saw the boy in the distance working his way through the room from one pile to the next.
Raphtune kept a good distance in front of the Shoal as the boy glided through the room like nothing Shaol had seen, each step seemed a continuation of the one that came before with was no hesitation in the motion . Raphtune would find himself behind a pile, he would have looked for what was ahead, be around the pile and across the floor without a single pause, without a single sound, without a sign of effort.
Shaol followed the small shadow which slip through the space and tried to be as silent as the boy but he had to move quickly to keep up and his heavy, metal boots only made the fast, hard steps louder.
Raphtune disappeared from sight, Shaol hurried to where he had last seen the shadow and there he found a small space dug into a pile of goods, the entrance hidden by some empty boxes that Shaol pushed aside and entered.
"I didn't expect to see you here," said Shaol as he ducked low and found a spot in the small space.
"Raphtune the Missing is never where people expect him to be."
"I'm glad you are," smiled Shaol "how did you get in?"
"I have my ways," said Raphtune simply and pulled a bag out from under his shirt, "I got here the day after you tore apart your Master's house, the fortress seemed far safer than the city after that."
"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving the city?"
"I've decided it's safer to keep a distance from you," said Raphtune finding a jar of black ink in his bag, "I would still like to get out of Tarlnath with my life."
"You think I'm dangerous?"
"I don't take unnecessary risks," replied Raphtune taking a piece of cloth from his bag and unwrapped it, inside there were sticks stained with swirls of all different colours, "and you should start doing the same."
"I haven't done anything that wasn't needed."
Quietly, Raphtune placed a small mirror on the ground. Carefully and precisely, he angled a lantern sitting on a wooden box behind him to illuminated his slender, face. Shaol watched the boy, not sure if he was going to speak again. Raphtune dipped one of the sticks in the ink and started to draw a curve on his forehead, down his cheek and hooked the line at the chin. Raphtune had learnt the lines that marked the Unders.
"The town was in such a flurry six days ago," Raphtune broke the silence without looking up from the mirror and starting another line, "In the east quarters everyone was alive with gossip, an Under had staged an open attack on a guardhouse using the mists of Zeria as cover. How the Masters were frothing, going wild with fury and turning stupid with fear.
"Seeing this, I grumble to myself, 'This will complicate matters, Raphtune the Missing, it is best you find Shaol and tell him to wait while this mess settles'. So, I cross the city to the Clan Leader Aksit's house, to check on my dear friend and do you know what I saw Shaol?"
Shaol was quiet.
"A whole host of Masters yelling and screaming in the streets, a Demon had torn apart the home of Aksit, the gods had not been able to protect one of the most powerful clan leaders in city, it had even killed one of his boys, helped by Unders, no less. The Horror.
"So, now, I say to myself, 'Don't leap to conclusions, Raphtune the Missing, surely it wasn't Shaol and Pysuun. They wouldn't be such fools as to kick the hornets nest, especially after being patient for so many years, mere moments before freedom would have been theirs.'"
Raphtune seemed to be enjoying his rant.
"So, I go to my dear friend Kiri who works the goods wagon and I ask her, 'have there been any peculiar requests Yor has been making lately', and it turns out two barrels of salt had been added to the goods list for no reason.
"Two barrels, in one trip, how odd, I ask if Yor explained the sudden appearance of these goods, no reason had been given, it had just been added. But then I stop and say to myself, 'Oh, Raphtune the Missing, this is just a misunderstanding on your part, the two would never go together. Not only would it already be strange to any of the Unders that worked the wagon, but if they were caught they would be stuck together, helpless, with no plan of escape.'
"So?"
"It was more difficult than you know," interrupted Shaol angrily.
"It was always going to be difficult, Shaol, did you think it was going to be any different?"
"No," replied Shaol low and quiet as the question had struck away his anger.
"Now, as I was saying, I go to find out what has happened to Aksit and his loyal servants when I ran across the guards closing down the city, quarter by quarter, and that was when I knew I had overstayed my welcome, forget the fortress, forget my dear friends, I said rightly to myself and went to get out of the city. To my dismay I found the Orsil had locked down every exit I knew, even the abandoned water tunnels at the rear of the city. I'd never seen them so focused, so organised, I could not stay in the city another day.
"Luckily, I had was ready for something like this and inside a hollow stone I found passage on the wagon that took the building supplies from the masons. A bit riskier than I like but I was left with few choices.
"So, here I have been for the last few days, surprised you and Pysuun were not already here tearing apart the fortress in your mad hunt, I am guessing that there was more destruction to wrought in the city. In any case, I'm glad you finally got through, you being here will make things easier."
"You still want my help?"
"I need you to get out," said Raphtune flatly, "as chaotic as you are, Shaol, I trust you and that is more than I can say for anyone else in this place."
"Did you bring the cloaks?"
"Did I bring the cloaks?" exclaimed Raphtune looking up from the mirror waving his pen in the air, "could you have given a few days to make them? You don't just throw fabric at some blades and cloaks appeared. I have some very fine, grey fabric sitting in my den on the other side of that wall, along with some wonderfully, strong thread, which was very hard to acquire. A lot of good any of that does us, now.
"But I have found some grey fabric in these piles, and some scissors, all we need thread and time."
"The Grey Men are hunting me after that night," said Shaol simply waiting for Raphtune to start again.
"How?" asked Raphtune quickly.
"Did you see their spirits?"
"No."
"The Grey Men can bring spirits in the mist and they found me and Pysuun, Friend is sure they know us and can hunt us now."
"Shaol, you are a master," laughed Raphtune.
"They had Pysuun, I wasn't going to let them harm him."
"Where is Pysuun?" asked Raphtune innocently.
"He's dead."
Raphtune's pen stopped where it was on his arm for a moment, then he shrugged and continued to draw the line.
"You don't care," growled Shaol.
"Twenty four, I counted in the eastern quarters, hung and disfigured. More in the west, I had stopped counting by that time," replied Raphtune without emotion, "the Orsil cried a web of deceit had corrupted their city and there swords would purge it, did you stop to think of those men and women?"
"I know how the Masters keep their city," growled Shaol.
"And yet you did it anyway," sneered Raphtune suddenly angry, "and then sit there and ask me to weep for your friend, for the one you knew?"
Shaol was quiet.
"I'm not saying you killed them, Shaol, and I'm not saying you weren't right to knock that bastard down and kill his boy. But you know the Orsil, you know what they are, you went about it like a fool and because of it others suffered, others that you knew, others that I knew and they suffered for a man who is no longer with you."
"And what would Raphtune the Missing have done?" spat Shaol.
"You talk as though there was something that could have been done."
"You would have done nothing," said Shaol firmly, "you have sat by and left a friend to die."
"Where is Pysuun?" repeated Raphtune the question no longer innocent.
&
nbsp; Shaol fell quiet and silence stretched between the two until Raphtune looked down at the mirror on the ground and, without another word, he finished the lines he needed to look like Shaol, an Under of the stone city and nothing more. Raphtune started to wrap the pens in the stain cloth.
"Now, listen to me," said Raphtune quietly, "no more. You get the treasure, I'll see what I have come to see and we walk out that gate over there."
"We must find Hassa," said Shaol.
Raphtune sighed.
"We cannot come back for her, she must come with us," said Shaol with a hard voice, "Friend is not able to help anyone in the fortress."
Raphtune was quiet for a moment.
"I have found Hassa," said the boy with a reluctance in his voice.
"Have you spoken with her?"
"I do not move with your swiftness, I'm afraid. I think its best we keep our distance until we are ready to leave. We will take her with us, then."
"Why?"
"We don't need her now. We get her on the way out."
"Hassa will know the fortress, we'll move faster with her."
Raphtune went to speak, but then stopped.
"She will be able to find us thread for the cloaks," continued Shaol.
"If you insist, you can speak to her," said Raphtune finally, "but if she can't help, we go into the fortress without her."
"Where is she?"
"The city beyond the tunnel," said Raphtune, "come, its easier to move before they return from the fortress. Bring the pry bar."
Raphtune pulled himself from the space. Shaol followed, the pry bar heavy in his hand.
"Follow. Quietly," whispered Raphtune and he was off again through the piles.
Shaol followed he looked ahead and noticed there was a large, dark wall which divided the area, Raphtune was leading him towards it.
The wall was much further than it appeared and it took a good while before the pair reached it. Set into the wall was a large set of wooden doors the height of a dozen men. To the side, a small, rough tunnel with no doors, large enough for a wagon and nothing more, had been cut into the stone. Raphtune disappeared into the tunnel and Shaol followed.