Stormtide

by Den Patrick

  ‘Send troops to the borders of the Scorched Republics and await further orders,’ said the Emperor. ‘We may not be able to control the story, but we can at least control the land.’

  Silverdust clenched his fists in frustration. Talk of dragons was an unwelcome distraction.

  ‘Your Imperial Highness,’ said Envoy de Vries. ‘Obviously the dragons are important, but something terrible happened on Vladibogdan. We have lost over half our students, the Ashen Torment has been destroyed, and Felgenhauer taunts us from her hiding place in the forests of the Slavon Province. Someone must pay for this treachery!’ A handful of courtiers broke out in applause, no doubt supporters of de Vries.

  ‘This Ordinary Shirinov,’ said the Emperor after a long pause. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Dead at the hand of Steiner Vartiainen,’ replied the Envoy. ‘Killed on the beach at Cinderfell. The Exarch was the highest-ranking member of the Holy Synod on the island.’

  ‘Silverdust,’ said the Emperor, with a faint smile. ‘So the novices still hand out nicknames to their mentors.’

  They do.

  ‘What’s your real name, Exarch?’

  I have not gone by another name in many years, Your Imper—

  ‘Tell me your name!’ roared the Emperor.

  My family name is Pyli. My parents called me Serebryanyy, on account of the halo of light that I was born with.

  ‘Serebryanyy Pyli.’ The Emperor’s eyes widened in surprise. For a fleeting second his mental defences faltered and Silverdust was dizzied by the strong feelings of shock that emanated from the Emperor. And there was fear.

  ‘Serebryanyy Pyli?’ The Emperor’s mouth curved into a sneer. ‘Do you come here to mock me in my own court?’

  Envoy de Vries looked puzzled.

  I meant no offence.

  ‘Serebryanyy Pyli are the Solska words for silver dust.’

  My family were Spriggani nomads who lived in Shanisrond. They took the name Pyli as a point of pride before they settled in the Province of Karelina.

  ‘Serebryanyy Pyli.’ The Emperor sounded out the words as if they were a particularly repulsive curse.

  ‘I am unfamiliar with the name, your Imperial highness,’ said Envoy de Vries, keen to insinuate herself into the conversation. The Emperor gave her a bitter smile, then mounted the steps to the throne slowly, as if a great weariness had overtaken him. He retook his seat and fixed his gaze on Silverdust.

  ‘I knew a Serebryanyy Pyli once, before the Empire was born. So many decades ago now. You are not him. Serebryanyy Pyli is dead.’

  And yet you yourself endure down the ages, your Imperial Highness. Such a thing might be rare but not impossible.

  The Emperor dispensed with the need for spoken words and sent a question using the arcane. So you have the other Ashen Blade? Silverdust did not reply. He had long heard of the Emperor’s life-draining dagger, but no one had ever mentioned the weapon being part of a pair.

  The doors at the back of the court boomed open and a bedraggled messenger hurried in.

  ‘Exarch Zima has found the rebel Vartiainen in Vostochnyye Lisy! Even now he tracks him through the streets.’ The court broke out in a rumble of shocked gossip. The Emperor gestured for the messenger to come closer. The business of Vladibogdan was forgotten with word of Steiner’s actions.

  ‘This is not over,’ said Envoy de Vries from between gritted teeth. She watched as the Emperor pressed his messenger for more information.

  It would seem not. But it would appear to be over for today at least.

  ‘You will not survive this,’ said Father Orlov.

  I had never imagined I would. Silverdust left them, sweeping from the room even as the Emperor convened a huddle of generals, Envoys and Vigilants.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Steiner

  ‘I feel like we’ve spent the whole night running back and forth across this awful town,’ said Steiner. He clenched his numb fingers into fists, hoping some feeling would return. They stood in the shadow of a cart stacked high with bales of straw.

  ‘That’s because we have spent the whole night running back and forth across this awful town,’ said Kristofine, her breath steaming on the bitter morning air. She was pale beneath her hood, the beginnings of dark circles forming beneath her eyes.

  ‘Let’s hope we can smuggle ourselves aboard this ship and be done with this place,’ said Steiner. The docks were loud and busy with carts and horses delivering or picking up cargo or fish. A stream of surly sailors and fishermen wended their way to and from the sea. The mood was sour and many shot wary gazes at the horizon, where plumes of smoke hung over the town like dire banners.

  ‘Vostochnyye Lisy isn’t going to forget about us in a hurry,’ said Kristofine, looking ruefully at the red sky.

  ‘Seems like everywhere we go a building burns down,’ said Steiner.

  A trio of labourers was unloading crates from a wagon on a long stone pier. The Imperial ship waited at the far end, guarded by half a dozen soldiers.

  ‘Look,’ said Kristofine, pointing down the street. Soldiers emerged from a nearby tavern, dragging Marek after them. He was awake, with fresh bruises on his face and rope binding his hands.

  ‘Do you think he told them anything?’ said Kristofine.

  ‘I couldn’t say,’ replied Steiner. ‘How about we deliver some straw to those fine men on the pier?’ He patted the cart beside them.

  ‘That’s your plan? To steal this cart?’

  Steiner approached the front of the cart. A wizened old man sat on the driver’s seat, squinting at the soldiers escorting Marek. The old man supped at a pipe and fixed Steiner with an unfriendly glare.

  ‘Bad times all around,’ growled the old man, nodding towards Marek. ‘They say an inn and two houses burned down last night. Seems ten people died and some outsiders were spreading lies about the Emperor. Bad times.’

  ‘Lies?’ said Steiner. ‘I know a few things about lies. A Vigilant visited that inn with a score of soldiers. They didn’t seem too keen on asking questions. They let their maces do the talking. As for the fire’ – Steiner shrugged, remembering Lidija launching motes of fiery arcane light at Exarch Zima – ‘that was the owner. She set fire to the place by accident in the chaos. She’s dead now. Killed by the Vigilant.’

  The old man leaned forward and squinted at Steiner. ‘You seem to know an awful lot about it, young ’un.’

  ‘I was there,’ said Steiner. ‘And that man is my father.’ He nodded towards Marek, who was slipping further away with every moment. ‘Now do you want to drive your cart over there so I can get a little closer, or are you going to make trouble for us?’ The old man drew on his pipe for a moment and looked at Steiner from the corner of his eye.

  ‘You’ll get no trouble here, young ’un,’ said the old man. ‘The Empire never did nothing for me but raise my taxes.’ He flicked the reins and clucked his tongue. ‘Be sure to keep up.’

  The cart approached the pier and the driver guided his horses onto the narrow stretch of grey stone. The Imperial ship loomed at the end of the pier, masts reaching high into the sky as a chill northerly wind whipped and snagged at the cloaks.

  ‘Hoy there,’ an angry voice called out. ‘What in the name of …!’

  ‘I was told to deliver my straw to that ship,’ growled the old man. ‘So why don’t you move your damned crates out of my way.’

  Steiner smiled at Kristofine and snuck towards the crates. They ducked down behind them when they got close and Steiner dared a glance around the side. Marek was just twenty feet away; the cart had pulled onto the pier directly behind the soldiers.

  ‘We have to do something,’ he whispered in desperation. Kristofine shook her head and pointed to the ship. Waiting at the top of the boarding ramp was Exarch Zima. His robes were blackened and one sleeve was missing entirely. The arm was bound up in bandages but Zima was no less fierce, his bestial mask all the more imposing for the scorch marks discolouring the surface.

&
nbsp; ‘How in Frejna’s name did he survive that?’ said Steiner.

  ‘Vigilants aren’t like other folks,’ said Kristofine. ‘You of all people should know that.’

  ‘We won’t be able to sneak past him,’ said Steiner, ‘we have to get Father now.’

  ‘Then what?’ said Kristofine. ‘I want him back more than anything, but we’re surrounded and there’s nowhere to go.’

  ‘I’m going to start a fight,’ said Steiner. ‘Grab Father as soon as things turn interesting.’ He stood up and approached the cart before Kristofine could reply.

  ‘Leave him alone, you worthless dog,’ shouted Steiner to the nearest labourer. He was already swinging before the man had turned around. Steiner’s fist caught the labourer under jaw and the man collapsed over the front of the cart, becoming tangled in the reins. A great shout went up from the other labourers and the soldiers looked around. Steiner drew out the sledgehammer and held it aloft.

  ‘Looking for me, arseholes?’

  The labourers fled at the sight of the scorched, scarred, sledgehammer-wielding lunatic who had appeared from nowhere. All but one of the soldiers started towards the cart and Kristofine snuck forward from her place of hiding by the crates. She had drawn her sword and Steiner prayed she wouldn’t need to use it. He climbed the bales of straw and made the sign of the four powers at the soldiers.

  ‘Come on, halfheads! I killed Shirinov, I can easily kill any of you. In my sleep most likely.’ He wasn’t sure he got the words right, but he shouted in Solska all the same.

  The soldier guarding Marek spotted Kristofine and stepped forward to stop her, but Marek kicked at the back of the soldier’s knee, bound up and bruised as he was. The soldier stumbled forward and Kristofine barged into him, knocking him off the pier. The weight of his armour took him to the bottom of the bay in seconds. Steiner had just enough time to see Kristofine start to cut Marek’s bonds when the first soldier climbed the bales. Steiner swung and struck the helmet where the red star of the Solmindre Empire rested at the brow. The man fell backwards and crashed to the stone pier below.

  ‘Come on, halfheads. There’s plenty of this for everyone.’

  Everywhere Steiner looked there were soldiers. Soldiers streaming down the boarding ramp of the ship, soldiers rushing across the docks from the town, soldiers trying to mount the cart and its cargo of straw. He swung again and knocked another soldier from the side of the cart.

  Kristofine and Marek fled to the side of the pier where a handful of small vessels had been tied up. Kristofine clambered down to the rowing boats, nearly falling as the choppy waters made them bounce and bob. Marek made to follow her but stopped as if shoved back onto the pier.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Steiner looked along the pier to see Exarch Zima. The Vigilant had forgone the usual dictates of the Empire and used the arcane for all to see, though it was subtle. The Exarch gripped Marek with raw concentration, just as Shirinov had done to Maxim. To anyone watching it would seem as if Marek were hesitating.

  More soldiers swamped the cart. They had tired of being beaten back and settled for rocking the cart side to side. Steiner swore and grabbed onto the bales but the motion became more intense, more pronounced, as more soldiers joined the effort. With a mighty heave one side of the cart was lifted clear of the ground and the cart plunged into the bay, taking Steiner with it. The shock of the cold water left him breathless and he kicked and struggled under the weight of his sodden cloak and pack. He struggled on, kicking out for shore, half-floating, half-swimming in the chilly water. Soldiers shouted to one another along the pier and pointed.

  ‘Come on, lad,’ said a voice from above.

  ‘What?’ Steiner turned to see two fishermen looking over the side of their row boat. One had a hand outstretched.

  ‘The game is up. You’ve had your fun with the Empire. You can drown here or take my hand.’

  Steiner didn’t see he had a choice. It took long moments to haul him into the boat.

  ‘’Fraid we’re going to have to turn you in,’ said the fisherman. He was a wiry man with a broken nose and spoke from one side of his mouth. ‘The soldiers have seen us fetch you up. There’ll be no peace for us or our families if we don’t.’

  ‘I understand.’ Steiner nodded and shivered, then looked towards the pier for some sign of Kristofine. Marek was being dragged to the ship and Exarch Zima followed just a few feet behind.

  ‘Awful shame,’ said the fisherman. ‘The dragon rider himself washes up in my boat and I have to be the one to turn him in.’

  ‘It’s not your fault. Bad times all around.’ Steiner sighed. ‘And the dragon rider is a damn fool who tried to rescue his father without a plan.’

  ‘The Empire doesn’t seem to care too much for other people’s plans, even if they do have them,’ said the fisherman.

  ‘Is there anything we can do for you?’ said the other fisherman. He was a stout sort with a broad face, perhaps the same age as Steiner.

  ‘You tell everyone that Lidija the innkeeper gave her life fighting the Empire. Her sister was taken when she was young, and Lidija had to hide her whole life. You tell people that witchsign isn’t a taint, it’s a rare gift with a high price. You tell people Lidija is a hero. That’s what you can do for me.’

  It took a long time to reach the docks and Steiner suspected the fisherman had deliberately kept the soldiers waiting. A sergeant pressed forward and imposed himself among the armoured bodies. Steiner glanced back over his shoulder and watched the Imperial ship unfurl her sails and begin to drift away from Vostochnyye Lisy.

  ‘You Steiner?’ said the sergeant. Steiner nodded and shivered, feeling like a drowned cat.

  ‘Going to need you to hand over that sledgehammer. Slowly now. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.’

  Steiner did as he was told and let a soldier bind his wrists.

  ‘I can’t decide if you’re mad or drunk,’ said the sergeant.

  ‘Just foolish,’ whispered Steiner as he watched the ship sail further away, taking his father to Khlystburg no doubt.

  ‘We’d best get you inside,’ said the sergeant. ‘You won’t be able to answer many questions if you die of cold.’

  Steiner spent the night at a dockside inn under guard. He was roused from sleep early the next morning and marched down to the docks, then guided to a galley and led to the centre of the ship. The sergeant tied him to the mast.

  ‘Just so I can keep an eye on you,’ said the sergeant. ‘If you can escape Vladibogdan then anything’s possible.’

  ‘I had help on Vladibogdan,’ admitted Steiner.

  ‘You may want to keep that detail to yourself, or you’ll dilute your own legend.’

  Another group of soldiers approached the galley and Steiner almost collapsed against the mast with relief. Walking among the soldiers with her head held high was Kristofine. She looked utterly defiant – if she had cried during the night she resolutely refused to shed her tears now. She had never looked more beautiful. Kristofine nodded curtly to the sergeant as she was brought aboard.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, as if she were a passenger and not a prisoner.

  The sergeant nodded to her. ‘And good morning to you. We’ll make a small cabin available to you while we travel, but Steiner stays on deck. He’s too dangerous to remain out of sight.’ Kristofine stepped forward and gave Steiner a long, lingering kiss before the soldiers took her away. Steiner watched until she disappeared from view.

  ‘You’ll keep her safe?’

  ‘As if she were my own daughter,’ replied the sergeant.

  ‘Other soldiers might …’ Steiner couldn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed the sergeant. ‘Other soldiers might. But the captain runs a tight ship and my men and I are better than dogs, so she’ll be safe, Vartiainen. You have my word on that.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Steiner didn’t expect an answer but the sergeant seemed unusually affable given Steiner’s crimes. The sergeant looked out to sea and
to the north.

  ‘You’ll find out in good time.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Kimi

  Kimi woke to the dim light of a brazier. She coughed and tried to cover her nose but her hands were bound together.

  ‘What’s that smell,’ she croaked, her throat dry and sore. She was in a cavern wider than Romola’s ship, the ceiling unseen in the darkness. Water ran freely down the walls and collected in a stream at the centre, burbling as it coursed over pebbles and rusting plates of armour. There was no wood in the rusted iron brazier, nor was it coal. Kimi huddled closer to the ruddy light. The burning peat gave off a malodorous smoke that made her head ache. There were other braziers around the cavern, all shedding a sombre light. It was then she remembered being clubbed unconscious as Marozvolk was pulled down by the gholes. She shuffled forward on her knees and inspected her bonds more closely.

  ‘Frejna’s teeth,’ she whispered. The slender rope was made from hair. Human hair if she had to guess. She opened her mouth to call out for her friends just as a chill breeze swept into the cavern. Kimi stared with widening eyes, mute with shock, as an immense serpent entered the cavern from a narrow tunnel. It was vastly different in every way to the stunted juvenile dragons she’d fed on Vladibogdan. The creature was the colour of sour milk at first glance, but as Kimi looked harder she realised there were motes of sickly green shining in its iridescent scales. The serpent half-slithered, half-crawled on four wiry legs that grasped at the walls as much as they grasped at the floor. Most disturbingly of all, the serpent moved silently despite its great size. ‘Veles,’ Kimi whispered to herself in disbelief. For a moment it was hard to think, breath would not come and every muscle froze. The creature turned, coiling about itself like a rancid ribbon in the wind. Scars the colour of pitch and dried blood ran down its back. The serpent paused at each of the braziers, stirring them up with a single claw, causing them to glow more brightly. Kimi feigned sleep as the dragon came near, yet she could feel an overpowering presence beside her. Kimi opened an eye just enough to see and almost flinched as the dragon’s maw hovered over her. It sniffed at her, snuffling down the scent of her. She clamped her eyes shut and prayed to Frøya out of desperation. Veles gave a barely audible growl, so deep and low that she felt it more than heard it. May Frejna’s eye not find you, she thought. The sound of screaming filled the cavern and for a moment she feared she had surrendered to her terror. Veles had moved off across the cavern when she dared to open her eye again. A dozen gholes dragged three men into the chamber. Each was attired in black with a heavy travel cloak. Each wore a sheath on his belt but their weapons had been confiscated or lost in the fight. Kimi looked around the cavern with growing dread. Where was Marozvolk? Was Tief here somewhere?