The Ravens of Carrid Tower

by David c Black

  The guards wouldn’t let them inside in any case…

  Aldo had moved into the tiered suite after his promotion to the head of the Republican Intelligence Committee eight cycles ago and had repurposed it as an unofficial operations centre. Hand picked analysts worked full time in offices that were hidden away in the upper levels of the house. They collected and decrypted messages from the constant arrival of carrier birds before deciding which information needed to be relayed to Aldo, and which could go to the RIC offices in the Assembly complex.

  They are my filter.

  They were in fact a conduit between two parallel intelligence operations. Those that Aldo trusted… And the rest of the Assembly’s intelligence community.

  You make it sound like I’ve gone off the reservation. My first statement was correct. Those young men and women are a necessary filter.

  From what?

  Contamination. And Loss.

  It was at that particular wandering thought, when one of his trusted analysts came running out into the garden to disturb him.

  “What’s got you so excited?” Aldo called from the chair, folding the broadsheet paper and laying it on his lap.

  “It’s big, sir.”

  A filter. See.

  Aldo read the note quickly and raised an eyebrow with slight surprise. Then he smiled.

  Oh, Jaro’s not going to like this. Not going to like this at all.

  “Get my coat. I need to see a man about a pirate”

  A passage in the rock had been excavated by a previous owner that allowed the occupants to reach the seventh level and accept any guest without having to pass the gate guards.

  Or be seen at all. A principle reason for choosing the place. Seized property of a disgraced judge with a penchant for female company and discretion.

  Aldo and his team had expanded the narrow tunnel network allowing them to access both the seventh and ninth levels and it was there he climbed the steps towards. Finally reaching the upper floor he exited inside a small lockup hidden from view on a busy hanging freeway that stretched across the core. The air was damp, but the room was clean and well looked after. Wooden boxes were neatly piled in one corner and a desk had been pushed up against a wall with a sheet over it.

  Aldo checked the small pieces of hair he had left attached to various joins in the desk’s drawer and door and was finally satisfied the room had not been disturbed.

  It never was.

  The spy unlocked the door and walked out into ore light that dotted the tower’s core like stars in the night.

  He walked the short distance to a huge mechanical counterweighted lift that would take him up to the eleventh level. Oiled wheels and woven steel cables span above the opening within glass casing and Aldo watched cogs whir above them as the platform shot up from below. Three other people waited beside him for the lift’s arrival, a well-dressed young couple which Aldo assumed were well off tourists from the mainland. They were far too interested in the mechanics of the various machines around them, a curiosity most citizens native to the tower barely glanced at anymore. The other man looked like he may have worked for the Assembly, though his belt was hung a little too loosely for Aldo’s tastes.

  Looks like that dandy, Annick.

  And in that momentary jest, the aging spy’s instincts were proved once again preternatural. The man was indeed an admirer of the Republic’s fresh-faced and purportedly roguish upstart. The two gentlemen nodded as unknown gentlemen do, before both turning to find a collection of points on the wall to stare at silently, so they wouldn’t have to acknowledge each other again for the duration of their journey upwards.

  Annick held in his case the first piece of thread that would unravel Jaro’s power. This other stranger had just returned from the Quoroubi and was on route to bring Annick the next.

  From the western lift gates Aldo walked across a small bridge to the sky ferries which took passengers horizontal and diagonally around the tower’s internal sub districts. Unlike the lower levels though, access to the eleventh floor and above was restricted to residents, public servants, military officials and anyone rich enough to buy an access permit.

  The spy headed straight for the Consul’s town house with a slight spring in his step. The footmen at the door recognised the man and parted to let him in. One motioned to an area in the lobby where Aldo should sit before turning back outside. The spy ignored this instruction and strode straight up the grand stairs two steps at a time.

  He peaked through the open door to make sure Jaro was indeed alone before bursting through. “Komet is dead and Galtus is occupying Echovia, Consul”.

  “Aldo, you…” Jaro said with lingering shock from the sudden intrusion. It wasn’t long though before the spy’s words registered with him though and panic triumphed. “What?! How is that possible?”

  “We’re not sure yet. All we know is that they landed on Echovia and the pirates have surrendered.”

  “Their fleet?”

  “Working on it, Consul.”

  “What is Galtus playing at? This is tantamount to war. He pisses on our treaty. If he puts to sea one of those vessels under his banner, he’ll be....”

  “He has been breaking the terms since the day he arrived in the Palace, and the Assembly did little more than talk in circles.” Aldo paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. “This time it’s different.”

  “Explain.”

  “They’re Pirates, Consul. Everyone benefits from their eradication.”

  “Not us. Certainly not me.”

  “In any case, he’s done it. We need to be realistic, he will take those ships and probably the sailors to man them too. There’s no evidence of slaughter so far.”

  “How many ships?”

  “The last number we have is two hundred and eighty-two warships, but likely less now if there were any engagements at sea.”

  “How could you let this happen Aldo! The Assembly will be furious. Galtus… Gods…”

  “Sir? It’s not…”

  “You are the First Falcon. Our eyes over Lathania and you were blind to this. It’s a bloody disaster, man.”

  “With respect Consul, we are not tasked with monitoring the seas. I believe that is the Naval Intelligence’s responsibility.”

  “Can we sink them? Send the monks?” Jaro asked, already knowing the answer was no.

  “That would be war.”

  “This is an absolute disaster, Aldo.”

  “It’s certainly not good. That’s a lot of ships.”

  “And we just let him take them?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid that’s all we can do. We’re too late to change that now. This is a remarkable victory for Galtus. I had warned you and the Assembly many times that the Imperial army has grown in size and sophistication over the cycles. We have underestimated them, Consul. We have underestimated him.”

  “As I said. Fucking disaster. I want the monks on this, find out exactly how many ships are sailing south.”

  “Yes, Consul.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Quoroubi Desert

  "Why do we always have to do this shit Rill?" Canno said.

  "Dunno, Kellick trusts us I guess."

  "He trusts Azon more and he can do it better anyhow."

  Rill ignored his friend, who had asked variations of the same question repeatedly since they left camp at dawn's break.

  The two fell back into their silence, lying just below the crest of a small dune under a leather tarp covered in sand and branches which obscured their profile from any unwanted eyes in the desert beyond. The scout rangers had been there for hours watching the road on the far orange hued horizon, shimmering under a burning sun. They were waiting for the approach of a great mass of people.

  If they are even coming this way. Rill thought to himself.

  Captain Kellick had made his orders clear.

  ‘Stay put until sighting is confirmed.’ Yes sir... We can do that, sir. Always us, isn’t it sir...

&nbs
p; Both scout rangers had objected on the point that the tribe could be coming from a hundred different routes and what should they do if they never show. Kellick's reply was characteristically laconic. ‘Bring plenty of water.’

  Rill had confidence though that the intelligence was sound, it usually was. They would be able to return to camp soon.

  Kellick must already know what's coming at least, if not we would've been sent down there counting helmets and horses. Probably miss the battle. Ha, imagine Canno's bitching then.

  It was true that there were many routes to the mountains the approaching army somewhere in the distance could take. Between the Republican forces in the North though, and the Shaa in the South, this desert tribe was running out of options.

  Poor bastards. Rill considered with sympathy as the blistering sun wheeled in the sky.

  Disparate groups of people, never unified before, finally making peace with one another in the face of annihilation.

  He knew the mountain range that the last scrappy groups of people coalesced on would be their final tribal gathering.

  This one won't even get close. And then what? Not my concern though, is it.

  The two scout rangers didn't have to wait long as the unmistakable rise of dust in the distance began to plume into the sky.

  Too wide. Outriders.

  "See, not so bad." Rill said throwing a small pebble at the white cloth Canno had wrapped around his head for shade and more importantly, stopping the interminable streams of sweat making its way down his brow into his eyes. "C'mon, let's go."

  They packed away their kit and collected the two unstrung longbows resting behind them. Then almost on all fours, crawled back over the peak above them to slide their way back down the rocky dune towards the horses. Though it was most certainly unnecessary, the pair out of habit had taken extreme care to clear away any signs of their presence.

  Intelligence confirmed.

  They made their way back to camp following a shallow dried up red river bed, which from the size of the cracks in the rock-hard clay, had been waterless for cycles. The Quoroubi desert was a vast, worthless wasteland as far as Rill was concerned.

  A barren expanse, too hot by half, hardly anything grows, miserable and ungrateful people, religious to a fault. At least I’m not a Pike.

  The relatively lightly armoured Ravens and the other scout ranger regiments had suffered in the war from the heat. Almost all of them were northerners, used to far cooler temperatures.

  Two cycles in a human shaped oven.

  The scouts would never admit it, but they shared at least a small degree of sympathy for the Republican Pikes and Swords, baking throughout each battle within steel shells. Many of them during the course of fighting had started unloading gear down to just briefs, blades and breastplates.

  And to severe sanction. The infantries officer corps have only just started listening to Kellick and Mak about adapting their kit to the challenges of fighting in the desert. Two cycles later and almost as many dead in the training pits as the actual scraps. The Ravens have lost only fifty-three men this entire war. None in training.

  "All of this is bullshit you know, Rill." Canno announced as the pair cantered through the heat.

  Rill smiled to himself, wiping sweat off his own brow this time, as the well-worn conversation started up again.

  "Which bit?"

  "All of it. Why are we working so hard for this?"

  "Canno you are the laziest bastard in the regiment. Just do your..."

  "Don't mean me, idiot." Canno said cutting off Rill's words. "I mean the army. I mean Adderock and Jaro. I mean the Assembly."

  "They were trading with Galtus, I dunno. You and I just follow orders, that's it. Simple. What does it matter to you anyway. You want to kill the Shaa instead? Or the Naru?"

  "I'd rather kill the Shaa, yeah."

  "He will have his turn."

  "No Rill, he won't. What have we done so far? Nothing, that’s what. Could have stamped it out at any point, even now. Easy."

  Rill had no reply to that. It was true, the Shaa's followers had been appearing in many of the towns liberated from the tribes by Carrid forces, then forcing conversion on the populous to an extreme interpretation of their holy desert scrolls. Steadily growing in strength and influence in the region almost since the war began.

  The stories about what happens... After we leave.

  The general consensus among the rangers for their commander’s eyes wide shut approach to the cult was that the Shaa posed no threat to Carridean operations in the desert. The horde had actually been useful in hemming in the lightening quick mounted tribal warriors. All knew that the Carrid forces could have extinguished them with ease, half of the fanatical followers wielded nothing more than knives and pitchforks. Instead though, the rangers had just been ordered to stay out of their way, clear the next town. Let the 7th army clean it up and focus on the next mission.

  What happens when they consolidate their holy lands?

  "So, this is it then?" Canno continued, breaking Rill’s thoughts on the latest mess the Assembly had gotten itself in.

  "This is what?"

  "All this fighting, cycles under this fucking sun, for what? We have less control in the desert now than we did when we started. Kicked one group out and let another one walk right in."

  "I dunno, do I Canno."

  "You haven't thought about it?"

  "Of course, I have. And I still don't know."

  "I'm sick of this."

  "You already said."

  "I mean it this time Rill. You don't feel the same?"

  "Canno your problem is you think and feel and talk too much. We're here to find stuff and kill stuff. It doesn't matter who or what or why. And pack this talk in when we get back. C’mon we're nearly at camp, the flies are getting on my nerves."

  "Think the mess will be open?"

  "Not a chance.” Rill laughed. “Kellick will have the army ready to march, he's waiting for us to tell him which way to send them, remember?"

  Canno grunted kicking his horse softly to accelerate ahead of his companion.

  Just under a bell later the pair reached the plain where the Grey Ravens and an unexpected cohort of Pikes had made camp the night before.

  "It does matter Rill."

  "I know it does Canno."

  Captain Kellick was in his command tent when the scouts returned. The guard at the door informed them he was in a meeting with an official from the Carrid Assembly but would pass the message on immediately.

  Job done.

  Kellick took the note and quickly read it, nodding to the guard to return to his post.

  "They are coming." He said to the two men standing around the map table in the centre of the large command tent as he walked over to the brazier, dropping the parchment in. One was dressed similarly to himself in scout ranger light armour. Articulated breast and shoulder plates. Each piece of steel was covered in a tight layer of cotton dyed to a tan, beneath which he wore a sandstone hued tunic specifically chosen to match the Quoroubi's ancient bedrock. The man next to him was slighter. Dark haired and dressed in civilian’s clothes.

  Expensive ones though. Green netted scarf, white loosely fitted silk and cotton shirt, tan trousers and desert boots. I wonder if he can use that rapier at his belt?

  "From the Hidabi." Kellick continued. “It seems you were right Cillius.”

  "Then we proceed on the gorge?" The agent from the Assembly asked and Kellick wasn't completely sure if it was indeed a question at all.

  "We're agreed. It's a good plan." Confirmed General Makaltus. "How long do we have?" Pointing the question to Kellick.

  "Rill says it will take them at least four-bells to reach here and then it’s another two to reach the river. If Cillius is right and they have their women and children with them, they will be moving at the pace of the slowest wagon."

  "I am."

  "Then we march immediately. Kellick bring up the rest of the units and get your Ravens
prepping the southern pass to dismantle and join us."

  "Yes sir."

  "There is one more point we need to discuss." The agent quickly stated.

  Both soldiers flashed a glance at one another.

  "Yes, Cillius?" General Makaltus asked, intentionally drawing out the response with a slight air of scepticism.

  "We haven't discussed what are we are going to do with them. Once they break."

  Both men looked at each other again, before staring back at the agent questioningly.

  "Do with them?"

  "Yes."

  "Cillius we're going to do what we always do, force surrender as quickly as possible."

  "Yes, well." Cillius said slowly. "Jaro has some concerns about that."

  "Explain yourself." The general said, his voice rising.

  "We're not sure we have any more room for er... prisoners. The burden on the state for those we already have is becoming a load to bear, General."

  Kellick laughed, breaking protocol. "The ones you have already? Do you mean captured soldiers in a couple of camps or the hundreds of thousands of people on the run from this war, already settled in Carrid and every damn where else."

  Pausing his reply to stare at Kellick, the agent began coldly, "Jaro has told me that there will be no prisoners. This war is about to end and we... You. Cannot make any more mistakes."

  Kellick looked at his mentor across the room, seeing the tension building around the man's jaw beneath his carefully trimmed white beard.

  "What do you want Cillius? Us to go in there with short swords and clean out the women and children or for your Pikes to do it?" Kellick asked with exasperation.

  "Of course, not Captain, we're not barbarians, are we?" the agent replied, pausing once again this time much longer. "But there is a river, isn't there." He said suggestively.

  "This is outrageous!" Mak boomed throughout the command tent. "You have had this whole agenda from the start, coming here personally with Jaro's intelligence. How did you know they would come from Hidabi? Even Azon couldn't find them. Why are you here instead of Aldo's agents?"

  "We have other reliable sources in addition to Aldo's network, Mak."