The Ravens of Carrid Tower

by David c Black

  Taleese

  "Can I ask you something Chiros?"

  "Always. Of course. What is it Bo?"

  "The other night at Ranon's with Gomes and Phondock. They were talking about the Naru. Saying... saying there might be trouble or something."

  "Did they now?" Chiros said with a wry half-smile that suggested at least partial agreement. Chiros motioned to a bench under one of the giant trees in his garden. "There could be Bo. One day at least. What did they say?"

  "That Talon used to be allies with the Naru. In the war. They think if it came down to it, the King would side with Galtus. They're closer than Carrid is.”

  "Not just by proximity. Do you know much about the King here?"

  "Not much, his father seems pretty revered. No one wants to talk to me much about the new one. Gomes thinks they're embarrassed.

  "Ashamed more like.”

  "Drinking, partying too much?"

  "Aye, and gambling. He's a particularly bad one at that. Both Galtus and I have loaned him money in the past. Got him out of a few tight spots."

  "You're kidding? You bailed out a King? His Palace must be filled with gold."

  "The richer you are Bo, the higher the stakes. In the taverns they wager coppers, in the Palace one could only presume kingdoms. In any case he was a Prince when I dealt with him. Always caught up in some scheme or other, trying to cover his tracks from his father’s counters.”

  "Seems stupid to me."

  He's not a wise man, nor is he stable. Galtus has been slowly acquiring influence over him for cycles now."

  "How do you know?"

  "It's my business to know. Decisions made in the Palace could impact my enterprises immensely. Usually for the worst."

  "You spy on him?"

  "I buy information."

  "That's the same."

  Chiros smiled. "I have learned much about the Jumithol family over the decades. His father was a calculating, ruthless man."

  "He always looks so kindly in the paintings and sculptures."

  "He managed perceptions extremely well. To be fair to him though he oversaw an unprecedented period of growth in the kingdom and for the most part left us all alone."

  "And the new king?"

  "I don't think he ever wanted the job. He was a playboy, travelling the continent partying with various house aristocrats."

  "I see."

  "Nevertheless, once on the throne he consolidated power quickly and left the army to run the kingdom. Their expertise over trade and commerce extends no further than extorting bribes and we have a damned general in charge of the economy. I have to deal with these people, Bo. Negotiating tax and licences with armchair soldiers.”

  “Why has he given them control?”

  “Safe pair of hands. Also, if anyone is going to betray him, it’s the Generals. Easier just to give them power in the first place and enjoy all of the benefits of ruling without needing to actually... Well, rule.”

  “Doesn’t sounds like he deserves it.”

  “No one deserves that kind of power, Bo. They are just born into families that have it and will do anything to stop it slipping away.”

  Bo was about to make a comment about Carridean democracy before Chiros suddenly continued, “the man's cruel and vindictive too, but that's beside the point. He’s a weak man."

  "And Galtus knows that?"

  "He's exploiting it. Most of the weapons the Taleese army wears now were forged in Narubez. He's is nearly bankrupting the kingdom buying warships from Galtus.”

  "Warships? Why? I would have thought Carridean ones are better."

  "Galtus isn't meant to have any warships, Bo." He said with emphasis, "and now he's selling them."

  "Does the Assembly know?"

  "Of course. The RIC know everything that happens in Lathania."

  "Have they done anything?"

  "No. In truth they can't. A harsh letter probably."

  "But they're just ships right, doesn't mean war."

  "No, it doesn't. The point is, as you said, if it came down to it. Which road would the King take? I think that's clear."

  "And will it ever..."

  "What, war?"

  "Yes."

  "I really hope not Bo. Bad for business."

  "I'm more worried about getting out of here."

  "We'll be fine. I have made arrangements. Should the time come."

  “Arrangements?”

  “Don’t worry about that Lad. Think of it more as insurance.”

  "But why? Why would they fight?"

  "Because Carrid is falling Bo. Slowly but surely the empire of peace collapses. From inside. It's always from inside, you know that right?"

  "I don't understand."

  "Empires grow until they cast a shade upon everything around them, Bo. Much like this tree." He said turning to touch the bark of the enormous Oak they sat beside. "They don't stop growing until their natural limits have been reached. Usually when it meets too much resistance or runs out of resources to sustain expansion.

  "Like the desert."

  "Exactly. Carrid has the north, allies in the west and a desert or sea between it and anyone else. The same is true for all states though on the continent, save for the hatchet job the Assembly did chopping up Naru territory after the war."

  "I see. Is that why Carrid didn't just take the continent for itself after the war?"

  "It means that they would have had to take all of it or none of it. The Naru would have done it for sure. Any of the kingdoms, had they the power, perhaps would have too. Carrid never really wanted the war, but the Naru had to be stopped. After they won, they didn’t govern like other conquerors had in the past. They took no land nor sovereignty. Instead everyone was just forced to play by rules of the game. Carridean trade laws mainly."

  "Sounds pretty decent of us."

  "Yes, well language can be worked that way. They didn't throw away their victory. The Assembly did what a king would not. Perhaps could not. They were smart. Currencies were pegged to Carridean Sats, of which the Assembly alone can mint. Opening trade made it safe for Carridean merchants to move into any local market they saw a profit in. They could now turn up in any town, with more cash and expertise than the locals, sucking money out of the state. They did it here, and they did it in Narubez.

  “Like you did?”

  Chiros seemed taken aback by the remark, but finally shrugged, “Yes, I suppose me too. I never saw myself as mercantile though Bo, I love the Taleese people and have tried to use my gold to help them. Some of it anyway. In any case lad, Narubez was filled with Carridean merchants and money lenders for a time. Before Galtus threw them out.”

  "I didn’t know that.”

  "That was the way we did it. With the continent at peace, everyone started getting wealthy again, much of that gold came north to the tower."

  "So, what happened?"

  "We stopped growing and everyone else caught up. Like this tree. Carrid doesn't produce anything anymore. Not enough anyway. We consume everything this continent can grow or make and the flow of gold reverses. We alone had to finance the peace, pay for forts and regiments all over the place. But it's not that Bo, it's the rot. It's all changed, what it means to be a Carridean. People have become complacent and entitled. Weak.” Chiros was obsessed, Bo had come to learn, with notions of polarity. Strength and weakness, order and chaos.

  ‘History accounts for nothing more than the eternal battle between order and chaos, Bo.’ Chiros had said one night. ‘Mirror images. Time spins and the pendulum ticks between eras of instability. Too much chaos, followed by too much order. Carrid tamed the chaos of war with the strength of its people’s character, industriousness and resolve. When they stopped fighting for peace though... Well, it’s ruined the Tower. Weakened our spirit... Chaos returns and the next battle looms.’

  He paused, and Bo noted that he hadn't seen his mentor so animated since they had met. Chiros stood quickly, regarding the tree again. “Look at it Bo, this thing hasn
't grown an inch in ten cycles."

  "Have you been measuring." Bo joked.

  "Actually, yes."

  "Really?"

  "Never mind that. It's using more energy to maintain itself than it did to reach such a scale. Its leaves grow with deformations and fall off quicker than the branches can regrow them. Parasites and insects have taken hold, robbing it of the luxury to even stagnate in peace. It will start to rot one day, probably already has somewhere deep inside and then it’s just a matter of time until everything has become corrupted. Eventually, the roots that supported such a glorious flourishing, become so dry and withered the whole thing collapses.”

  "Where is Carrid in this process?"

  "A lot further along than this tree."

  "And that means Galtus will challenge the Assembly’s hold on power?"

  "I believe he already has. Over and over again. They know he's re-arming as fast as possible, blatantly showing off their new weapons. Galtus has made a mockery of the, albeit unfair peace conditions. If he can count on Talon to back him, the only shred of resistance for him south of the desert is Drorea. The legions would probably make light work of the kingdom. It would take Jaro and the Assembly months to come their aid. Not to mention the damned Shaa in the way."

  "Why have they let the Shaa grow?"

  "I don't know Bo. I don't know."

  "So, what do we do?"

  "We carry on as normal and hope for the best. But we're leaving if it gets too hot. Galtus could completely take the south at any moment and we're suddenly on hostile terrain."

  Great.

  "Wonderful."

  "Don't worry Bo. I've been talking about this for cycles. Never happened yet."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Argot Plateau

  Raulin had been forced to leave his horse when he reached the mountains. The road he travelled on changed course before it met the base of the snow-capped peaks, breaching the clouds unseen above. He walked the animal over the final stretch through boggy grass, outraged crickets and frogs jumping from the foliage on all sides with each sodden step forward.

  He had expected a climb eventually to the plateau which crossed through the centre of the range, but not so near to sea level. For a bell or so he skirted the edge of the cliffs looking for a suitable access point before deciding that it all looked the same.

  Typical.

  The agent grabbed the first tree root protruding out of the brown earth and pulled himself up, lifting his foot to wedge it between fractured rocks just below his waist. The further he climbed the less life could be found as he scrambled between boulders and the moss gave way to ice.

  This would have been easier twenty or thirty cycles ago. I’m too old for this rubbish. Mountain climbing alone in winter... Gods.

  Raulin had been concerned about the mission ever since Galtus summoned him to the Palace. They did not know where the temple was located. They were not expected. More importantly they did not have a good negotiating position. Raulin and his men had travelled the continent, solving the Empire’s problems. Troubleshooters, Yarrian likes to call us. He preferred to think of himself as a spy. Most people would just say assassin.

  But of course, Narubez doesn't have an intelligence committee or operators of any kind. We’re not allowed one under the terms of our surrender eighty cycles ago. If we did then yes, I would be a spy. My predecessors caused havoc during the war and Carrid feared us more than any other element of the Narubezian war machine.

  With better training, equipment and discipline, the Assembly’s smaller force smashed the Imperial army again and again on the open field. Nevertheless, Carridean soldier and agent defections were devastating to the Republic over the course of the war. Leaks. Warnings. Betrayals. Forts which dropped their guard for but a moment were raided and burned. Fleets at anchor were holed in the night and sunk. Supplies of arms and food were stolen in such vast quantities, with a regularity and efficiency that indicated the scale of Naru penetration into the Carriddean war effort.

  We made the republic pay for every inch of ground, forcing them to stretch their resources perilously thin, defending every strong point across the continent and later, the Ciavelli river.

  Narubez would fall before the Assembly had a chance to cross however.

  From within. Traitors. We would have fallen eventually. No one questions that. Even Galtus, pushed back to our pre-war borders as we were. Their naval prowess allowed them to dominate the seas and the few Imperial battleships we had left had been trapped in Naru harbours since the outbreak of hostilities. And those combat monks. Appearing out of nowhere above our legions and falling in between the packed ranks. The speed. Too fast to see as one or two of them carved through the blocks of men, blades flashing under the sun in an arc of brilliant reflected white light as it cut through the armoured columns. Hundreds of soldiers seeming to explode behind the light as countless severed bodies flew out of the red mist. The monks ripped through the entire army like a bolt of steel edged lighting leaving nothing but chaos and blood. After a moment of chilling silence, the screams that followed stole the last shred of resolve from those still standing. And as fast as they arrived, the monks were gone. We could never have won, but we should not have surrendered so early. Given up so much.

  Raulin rested on the flattest rock he could find and stretched out his tired legs. The sun was bright but hung low in the sky and offered little warmth. The green plains were far below now and the highway he had taken could only be seen as a razor thin black line curving out of sight to the right.

  The plan...

  If one could call it that.

  Was to just keep going until the warlocks made contact.

  Which probably means sleeping up there. They are obviously shy, or they wouldn't have made their little nest in such an inhospitable and inaccessible location. They will have wards. Probably already know I’m coming.

  The warlocks were indeed aware of the aging spy, who had picked himself up, kicked a pebble over the ledge in an unusual display of frustration and was now slowly making his way up the steep rock face. Two small birds hid in the shadows of a crevice between two boulders. They were watching the trespasser, waiting for their older brother who had left earlier to deliver the news of Rawlin’s arrival.

  Far, far above the ancient warlocks bickered amongst themselves. In a rare moment of unanimity though, all came to the consensus that this meeting had the potential for opportunity. Otherwise Galtus would not have sent Raulin personally. The agreement was fleeting though, and they quickly resumed their argument over whether effort should be taken to make the spy’s journey a little easier.

  As Raulin stood and dusted himself off for the next stretch of his climb, the warlocks finally reached an uneasy decision. They could wait.

  It was at that moment of consensus that the distant sun had fallen from sight and Rawlin was forced to finally stop climbing, being unable to see anything beyond arms reach. He had journeyed for far longer than he should have, visibility deteriorating with each leg up. Nothing resembling shelter had been found in the last few bells and the thought of a night spent out on the rock face pushed him forward in pursuit of any cave or crevice large enough for him to squeeze into.

  That was a mistake. It’s even colder up here and I’m trapped.

  Rawlin curled up in a ball behind a boulder, most of his body exposed to the freezing, biting winds. He pulled his second cloak over his body and mentally prepared himself for the torturous bells ahead. There would be no rest tonight.

  If I sleep, I’ll likely never wake up.

  Yet he did sleep a little, once the sun had started to slowly rise in the horizon and the chill subsided. Sleeping later in fact than he would have done had he laid in his own bed, exhausted as he was. A flake of snow settled on his cheek, then another on his forehead finally rousing the shivering man.

  Get up oaf, you need to find a cave for tonight at the very least.

  He packed the additional clothing he had wrappe
d around his limbs the night before into his sack and strapped it tightly to his back. Looking up, he still couldn’t see the peak, even though the clouds shrouding the sky leagues above had thinned.

  Cursing, he pulled off his wet gloves and threw them over the ledge, considering them to be more a liability at this point. They were not designed for mountaineering and the soaked fine leather had begun to shred at the finger tips and the base of his palms.

  Nothing I am wearing is designed for this climb. Wool and leather. I’m twice the weight I damned started.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Carrid

  As is understandable for men at the latter stages of their lives, the two men appeared to tire early of the state function’s excitement and both politely exited together. They walked out of the main hall into an adjacent porch which opened into the Consul’s garden.

  A real garden. It’s the largest private grounds in the tower and it rests firmly on rock.

  Jaro led his guest, with a mannerism suggesting an evening tour of the grounds was about to take place.

  "Those ferns are growing well." He pointed to plants lining the path highlighted from below with green ore lights.

  "This is meant to be the first time you have been here, Koh Deras."

  "You seem... frustrated Jaro. I would have thought to find you in high spirits. Victory so close at hand and all."

  "Victory Yes. But where is the coin you promised. Wagons laden with goods flowing up the Harukan highway. This election is costing me a fortune. Annick the treacherous upstart..."

  Curious choice of words. Koh Deras thought to himself behind an expressionless face.

  "We agreed the Shaa could wait until the Tribes had been completely removed from the desert."

  "We conceded that because the trade routes were not secure."

  "And wise it..."

  "The Tribes have been removed." Jaro interrupted sharply. "I want those wagons moving. Now, Koh Deras."

  "He will say we go back on our word."

  "The last of them are trapped in the mountains. The Rangers are on route. It's not even technically in the desert for god's sake according to Aldo."