The Ravens of Carrid Tower

by David c Black

  "The Shaa will say a threat is still posed."

  "He plays with words. I want to see a return on my investment."

  "We will, I promise. Is the 7th's money not enough for now?"

  "It's almost as damned expensive to keep up appearances as it is to pay real soldiers."

  "Increase the number of casualties. Isn't there some kind of fatality pay to families?"

  "There is. But I’m already pushing it. Any more won't sit well with the people. Even paper soldiers must win decisively."

  "I have a suggestion."

  "You have come to give that suggestion, I suspect."

  "Consul, I am here at your invitation."

  "Out with it."

  "Let the Shaa finish the fight with the Tribes."

  "The Rangers and my men are nearly there."

  "Call them back. Say the 7th are going to engage and let the Shaa deal with it.”

  "Why would the Shaa agree to that?"

  "They want you out now, I would imagine"

  "Why?"

  "Why wouldn't they?"

  Koh Deras could see Jaro's mind working.

  Greedy toad.

  "Do it. They can finish this. I will announce victory in the Assembly and withdraw. The timing is good, still a few moons to capitalise on this."

  "I will get the message to him."

  "But Koh Deras..." Jaro said looking back from a plant he had been examining.

  "Yes?"

  "I want those wagons coming North."

  "Understood, I believe he will agree to that.”

  “He better”

  “They are beautiful trees.” Koh Deras said pointing at the perfectly symmetrical evergreens lining the path. The two continued their theatre around the grounds that surrounded the Consul’s massive town house, Koh Deras with his usual relaxed expression and the Consul of Carrid scowling.

  "Is there anything else I can do for the campaign?"

  "Just keep Annick out of the news cycle as much as possible"

  "I do not own all of the papers Jaro. Annick has the people's attention. I wouldn't go as far as saying they are hungry for news about him, but it's close. He appeals to them. The working people at least."

  "Well if he wins we're all fucked.”

  "I will continue. Annick can't be kept out of the news or salon gossip if we tried. We report the stories of his incompetence instead. His dangerous ideas. His hatred. His resistance to change. We make him the talk of town. We make him the joke of town."

  "Good. They will see Annick is just a flash in the pan. A natural reaction to the progress we’re making."

  “I have full confidence in you, Jaro.”

  The Consul didn’t seem to like this comment and began to study his guest.

  “What’s your end in all this, Koh Deras.”

  “My end?”

  “Yes, you have been useful and I know that isn’t free.”

  “I don’t have long left, Jaro. Neither of us do. I would see what we’ve been working towards happen before then.”

  Liar.

  “I see.”

  Annick paced in his office in front of a large board covered in chalk lines and writing. Watching from the chair, legs crossed and focusing on what looked to be some kind of wooden paper weight was Varius, the Senator’s manservant.

  "What do you think?" Annick asked

  "The migration. It has to be."

  "Lead with it?"

  "I'm not sure about that. Perhaps start with the problem Annick and then we can keep returning focus to the arrivals."

  "I don't want to be a single-issue candidate Varius. They know the economy is bad and need solutions, not more worry. They need hope."

  "You won’t be. But we always have that. Every time Jaro talks about his little war in the desert, we remind the people that it is they who must now look after those who have fled the region. They are unsettled. We remind them that Jaro benefits from the additional votes he is sure to secure. His friends get cheap labour in their factories and mills while the common man sees himself out of a job, or competing at rates that can't feed his wife, let alone a family.”

  "The youth don't seem to care.”

  "They are foolish, but can we blame them?"

  "No."

  "Jaro enjoys their support because they have been taught to despise tradition. You represent that. They don't consider the impact on the working class, because they are not working."

  “Jaro’s useful idiots.”

  "Indeed. And we need to own that. What they hold in contempt, the working man respects. They are our base. The young have known nothing but peace and inherited prosperity. They are entitled. Our message speaks truth and that threatens their comfort. Their idea of the world."

  "I just wish they would listen, Varius. Every time I speak they just shout, even riot."

  "Thank them for that, we benefit from polarity more than Jaro does. And yet he stokes it. Annick, it’s too late to change our strategy and little to gain in questioning it now. We must go all in on this."

  "You're right. As always" Annick smiled at his friend, who had been in his family’s employ since he was a young boy.

  "The smith, the clerk, the stable hand. The soldier. Their wives. They may not have fought in the continental war, but they remember their parent’s tales. They rebuilt Carrid. Worked hard to save their kin from sharing the same experiences and hardship of their own youth. They watch Jaro and his friends do everything they can to weaken the state and finally, encourage their children to throw it all away.”

  "Carridean values."

  "Exactly. We may not see much of it here in the capital, but out there.” Varius pointed westwards out of the window. "They need to hear someone protecting them. Hard work, integrity, family. Jaro threatens all of it."

  "It’s still difficult for me to believe that we need to fight this. They must know that we are coming undone.”

  "They profit."

  "I don't believe it’s just that."

  "He has his reasons Annick, whatever they damned are. What difference now? None. They have empowered their friends at the expense of everyone else. He has fought a pointless war, mopping up millions of Quoroubi here to the sole benefit of their party and donors. Wages have never been lower, bread never so scarce and expensive. These are your arguments."

  "Reminds me of the slave crisis.”

  "Yes well, this time they walked themselves to Carrid"

  "The youth and their armchair academics argue from justice"

  "They argue from ignorance. Jaro should never have been in the Quoroubi, nor his uncle before. In any case, when have we or any state for that matter invaded a nation, sucked it dry and then put out a welcome mat back home. No state ever."

  "Okay, so let’s change the tone. I was going to try and maintain some composure in the debate, but I think I want to use some of this passion of yours.”

  Varius flushed at this. The pair had never observed protocol with one another in private, but as Annick had aged into manhood, the master tutor became the trusted manservant. He would forever be Annick's closest advisor and perhaps Carrid's sharpest mind.

  "I'm sorry Annick, this is your election."

  "And I won't win without you.” He smiled disarmingly. "Let's step it up. Go all in as you say. I'll bring some of this fire you raised in me."

  "You must not doubt your mission Annick, not now, not after you win. My fears when you were a boy were not certain. Today though, we stand on the very edge. We reigned over an empire of peace for eight decades and it doesn’t look like there will be a ninth. Weaken anymore and the Naru will challenge the order. The continent will tear itself apart again."

  "We're going to do it this time.”

  "I hope so Annick. If you win, we’ve bought more time.”

  The two fell silent for a moment before Annick looked at the paper in his hand. "If Koh Deras keeps publishing rot like this though, we might be out on the street in six moons."

  "Prison, mor
e likely."

  Annick laughed "That’s certainly where I should send Jaro."

  "You would?"

  "Oh, probably not." Annick sighed. "Pack him off to his country estate and tell him not to come back to politics."

  "Always were too soft."

  "Want to sneak into his ball?"

  "Can we?"

  "Get your coat". The Senator grinned.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Quoroubi Desert

  Kellick stood watching the organised chaos around him. The Ravens had found the tribe’s mountain fort.

  Not quite. Just a blockade so far. A big one.

  They discovered the blockade relatively easily. One of the scouts had returned after only a few minutes up the path to inform him there was a large rock slide from the limestone cliffs above. They would need to clear it before horses and siege equipment could access. Not far beyond the first obstacle was another. And then another. Five piles of boulders and mud in all, marking the way to the tribe’s mountain encampment.

  And slowing us down, it will take ages to clear this stuff. They've had enough time to prepare. It could easily be a trap. It's where I would spring the first one anyway. Boulders and hot sand thrown off the cliffs, we’d be fucked in this narrow passage.

  Like all the other Rangers, Kellick had climbed the mounds of rock easily enough on foot, making his way up towards the heights. He now looked upon a huge wall that billowed inwards blocking the route. They had chosen one of the wider points along the road allowing the wall to curve out in a crescent. Crude piles of rock formed the base of the fortifications and from the stone, lines of perhaps three hundred tree trunks strutted into the air fixed together with black iron fastenings.

  Where the hell did they get wood from?

  Both walls, even at their furthest point apart were within bow range of one another, making entering the murder zone extremely risky.

  We're going to bleed here.

  Kellick walked back from examining the wall towards the rest of his men, who were digging trenches and piling dirt across the narrow pass. He looked up at the steep cliffs on either side of them.

  "Sir." Kellick heard someone shout.

  The sergeant of the Eagle company.

  Kellick waited for the flustered man half running towards him.

  "Yes, Sergeant."

  "The General sent me, sir. There's a visitor from Carrid."

  "Who?"

  "Dunno, sir. Just said to get you."

  "What does he look like."

  "Highborn, sir."

  "Rapier?"

  "Aye.” The soldier said, quickly adding "er... Sir."

  "Thank you, Sergeant. We can walk back together."

  Cillius.

  Captain Kellick was responsible for A company, traditionally double the size of the others. He was the executive Captain and General 'Mak' Makaltus' clear favourite among the officers. The men knew he was smart. Despite his age they granted him a great deal of respect and deference. Some, like this man seemed to even fear the Captain who was developing a reputation for tactical brilliance. Brutally efficient plays that concentrated the Raven's lethal firepower anywhere the enemy left exposed or somewhat vulnerable. Never releasing the pressure. Never handing them an opportunity to do anything but react. He kept the Ravens alive and the men had begun to worship him.

  Trust, not worship. They worship Mak.

  "Sir."

  "Yes?"

  "Where are they?"

  I don't know.

  "They're out there, Sergeant. Watching us, you can be sure of that. Keep your men's eyes on the cliffs."

  In fact, I'll send some Ravens up there. We're sitting ducks.

  A quarter league down the path the two soldiers could see the makeshift command tent and Kellick left the Sergeant to resume his duties.

  "There you are.” General Makaltus said to the Captain as he approached.

  "Sir?

  "We're leaving."

  Kellick looked at Cillius before asking suspiciously "Why?"

  "Adderock sent me down, the Assembly has decided you boys have earned a rest."

  "And what about this?" Kellick pointed up to the heights.

  "The 7th are going to take over Captain" Mak said.

  "I see. Where are they?"

  "On their way."

  "How far?"

  "They will be here soon, Captain. But, you are to break the siege immediately..." Cillius looked around at the preparations taking place around him before continuing. Kellick noticed again the slight curling of the man’s nostril as he tried to hide a sneer. The agent from the Assembly didn't seem to like the Ravens much.

  Vile man.

  "...and return to Ja Deist. That's going to be home for the winter."

  "Are we expecting trouble there."

  "Of course not, Kellick. The war's over."

  "Very well Cillius. The Captain and I need to discuss logistics, give us a moment, will you?"

  "Naturally. I have better things to do than stand here waiting for you two all day." He joked, though neither soldier seemed amused. "The needs of state wait for no man, good day gentleman. I hope your journey is short and uneventful."

  "Good day" Mak said without looking at the man. The officers waited as the white trench coated agent walked away towards his horse and accompanying riders.

  Where does he get the clothes?

  "They think we're stupid" Kellick said.

  "Aye."

  "We should leave some Ravens and see who actually turns up."

  "Azon will do it. If it isn't the 7th he can make his way out."

  "If?" Kellick smiled wryly.

  "Jaro and Adderock have made a mistake this time. We will know for sure."

  "And then what?"

  "God knows, but I promise you Kellick, I’ll see him hang for this. All of them. They've betrayed us and Carrid. Before this is done we will have to fight the Shaa, and at the peak of his strength. They have enough arms from the desert already and will take everything up there.” He motioned with a flick of his head toward the fortified cliffs. “Then it’ll be thrown at us next. The elders can hold the heights for a month at best. Then what does Jaro think will happen."

  Kellick said nothing.

  "I can see those cogs spinning, Captain."

  He broke out of his pensive expression. "No plan this time I’m afraid. I was thinking what a great opportunity this could have been. Is. If Jaro had been smart enough to conceive a play like this to trick the Shaa here. With a battalion of pikes, we could repeat Hidabi gorge replacing the bridge for a landslide. Wipe them all out. Then when the Shaa’s dead, the rest of his flock out there will likely evaporate as quickly as word travels."

  “Still have this fortification to break through.”

  “They have no choice but to wait. Who knows, maybe we get orders from the Assembly to push for their surrender.”

  "Not a chance, Captain. Not while that corrupt bastard is Consul. There's no long-term military objective here, never has been. Only opportunism. He lied to us about the 7th and let those disgusting cannibals rise out of tribal ashes for god only knows what reason."

  “Coin. It’s always coin.”

  “He should have enough by now.”

  "So, what’s our plan?"

  "We go back to Ja Deist. Fortify for winter as ordered. Azon stays here for a while to find out how much Cillius' word is really worth. Whatever game Jaro is playing, it's going to backfire. If the Shaa comes here. Well, our theory isn’t a theory anymore. And they’re coming for us next."

  "To Ja Deist?"

  "Yes. They have to. It's on the way North. There's nothing left in the Quoroubi."

  "So, we are expecting trouble?"

  "Aren't we always? To hell with whatever the Assembly think about the war being over. Idiots. We dig in hard and wait for them to come."

  "We can’t hold Mak. Not for long on our own against the entire horde."

  "Better get thinking about some new tricks
then shouldn't you."

  A hundred leagues away from the Ravens, a small barefooted boy kicked around in the Quoroubi's hot sand. He found another pebble and placed it in a compartment fashioned from the tattered fabric wrapped around his waist. His only item of clothing. The weight from the little stones was starting to pull his makeshift shorts down and he kept tightening the knot every few minutes to stop them from slipping off. He needed more stones though and there was no room left in the pouch, so he made his way back to the camp for the third time that morning. A few more trips and one of the slingers will trade him some food for the crude ammunition.

  Please don't just steal them this time.

  The boy had been following the Shas's war bands for almost as long as he could remember.

  Always walking. The adults walk a lot. What did I do before I could walk? Could I always walk?

  He had vague memories of a women who used to hold him. Feed him. But he could not see her face now.

  The kind lady in my dreams. Who is she?

  The familiar tent city came into view on the boy’s horizon. It seemed to buzz in the haze and the boy started to run, realising that they were moving again. He didn't recognise any of the gaunt, emaciated faces watching him as he approached, but then he never did. He had learned not to look at them directly, hide in the shade and wait for anyone to leave something of value. Anything to eat. The boy knew that many of them were dangerous and to be avoided. Men who would try and grab him at night. The women too sometimes.

  The nights are scary. When they start to drink and shout. Then they come to find me. I don't like it when they touch me. Make me do things.

  He travelled to the centre, weaving in between tent strings, wagons and cooking pots crowded together. People raced around him shouting at one another, peeling stitched hide tent coverings off frames of bone and unravelling the gut bindings. The boy grabbed at one such support that appeared to be a leg of some sort, swinging under it and out into an area already cleared of tents and people. He needed to find the man who helped him sometimes when the other adults were too rough.

  He will let me sit in the back of the wagon. I don’t think I can walk far this time, my feet hurt.

  The outer rings of the camp were occupied exclusively by the ever-expanding flock. Fanatical to the point of mindlessness, the followers of the Shaa massed in countless numbers around their shepherd. Tied at first not by chains, but hunger and fear. Chained now and for all time by an ideology that penetrated the mind of the desperate irrevocably. Unburdened by the weight of responsibility, the Shaa’s followers knew that true peace came only to those who had already given up on this life. Those who could find ecstasy in misery. Those who wait only for their turn to serve. To die. They exist for that one opportunity. One purpose. A death to free them at the height of worldly suffering.