by Sandell Wall
“Do you remember me?” Remus said.
“Quarry boy,” Pricker said in his lazy drawl.
“That’s right, we met in the quarry.” Remus said, as if speaking to a child. He gestured behind him at the town. “What happened here? Did you have a hand in this?”
Pricker glanced at the ruined city behind Remus and then back at his face. “Soldiers wanted what wasn’t theirs. Pricker didn’t want what they wanted.”
“So you stayed out of it.”
Pricker shrugged.
Behind Pricker, there was motion in the big tent.
“Who’s in there?” Remus called out, hand going to his weapon.
Out of the shadows shuffled an injured man. With his gray hair and soft body, he looked too old to be in the Legion.
“My name is Odisian,” the man said. “I was the century clerk, before the revolt.” His voice quavered as he spoke. He was not quite cowering, but Remus got the impression the man would grovel if threatened.
“Don’t press Pricker too hard,” Odisian said “He’s not a talker, but he saved our lives. Lorent, curse his traitor's soul, returned from the Wilds and told us that the barbarians had overrun the fort and slain both Centurion Durost’s and Centurion Immers’s centuries. He left my century behind in Delgrath, and marched into the empire to seek reinforcements. Four weeks later he returned. He told us that Emperor Pontius had fled the palace and that House Lome was the new power in the empire. He told us to join him, or die. Those that refused were put to the sword.”
Odisian nodded at Pricker. “Pricker here protected me when Lorent came for us. He killed twenty men before they gave up. I’ve never seen anything like it. When those of us loyal to the emperor saw the fighting, we rallied behind him and beat the traitors back. But they had an army, and there were only a few of us. We stayed here in the camp, forced to watch helplessly as they looted Delgrath and murdered its citizens.”
As Odisian talked, the surviving Legion soldiers crept out of ragged tents around the camp. Remus’s men formed a circle, hands on their weapons. At least twenty-five dirty survivors clambered into the open, and they were armed. They eyed Remus and his men with hungry intent.
They don’t fear ten men. And with Pricker on their side, they might attack the entire squad. These men want blood and vengeance.
Remus considered the obvious threat and then glanced back at Odisian. Gone was the cowardly old man. Odisian’s expression was hard, his gaze penetrating.
“We saw you march in from the east,” Odisian said. “Tell me true: from where do you come, and who do you call emperor? Take care with your answer. We bury traitors in the rubble.”
Chapter 5
AVENTINE AND SAFFRIN TRAVELED all night, reaching Umgragon with the dawn. Surrounded by the miasma that was the side-effect of its runestone defenses, the great city seemed to cling to the darkness, metal spires and pinnacle rooftops clawing at the night, desperate for a cloak to ward off the light of the rising sun. She shivered, remembering the effect of the citadel’s nullifying runestones. If she entered the hazy cloud that covered Umgragon, her ability to power runestones would be suppressed.
Outside the towering perimeter walls of the city, the camp of refugees had doubled in size since she had last seen it. Mysterious raiders had been landing on the coast and ravaging the Umgragon countryside. The citizens of the province fled to the citadel, seeking protection, but thus far Governor Wranger denied them entry.
“It seems my dear husband continues to ignore the pleas of his people,” Saffrin said bitterly. “I’ve no idea if any of my agents have survived. We had prearranged meeting places and signals for making contact. If we can get into the camp, I can identify my presence in secret so that only my people will know me.”
“We encountered the raiders in Tickton,” Aventine said. “Holmgrim and I saved the innkeeper and his wife and helped them escape to Umgragon. His name was Marthis. Maybe he’ll help us, if we can find him.”
Aventine led Saffrin into the camp. This early in the day, most of the displaced citizens were still snoring in their makeshift tents and homes. Dressed in their drab underclothes, the two of them looked like refugees themselves, so they were able to navigate the chaotic sprawl without attracting notice. Some of the shacks looked more permanent than Aventine remembered. She was surprised to see what looked like a blacksmith. Across the way, several people were cooking food in a huge cauldron. It looked like a crude restaurant.
“If Wranger doesn’t deal with this soon,” Saffrin said. “He’s not going to be able to make them leave. These are the roots of a city growing here.”
Aventine approached the crew working over the big pot. One of them, a pretty young woman covered in dirt, looked up at her in curiosity.
“Do you know Marthis?” Aventine said.
The girl smiled, her teeth flashing in the grime on her face. “Oh, aye. He runs the inn.” The girl pointed toward a huge, filthy campaign tent deeper in the camp.
“That’s an inn?” Aventine said, looking dubiously at the ugly structure. Stitched together from animal hides, the tent towered over everything else. She guessed at least a hundred goats died to provide the leather.
“Yep, only one we’ve got,” the girl said.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Tell Marthis that you came from the Quaking Kettle and he’ll be sure to give you a discount.”
Aventine headed for the giant tent that was supposedly an inn. Around them, the camp was coming alive. She wanted to be out of sight before the throng awoke. There was no telling who might recognize Saffrin, even in her disheveled state.
“You trust this man, Marthis?” Saffrin said.
“He served with Holmgrim in the Legion, and he’s loyal to the emperor,” Aventine said. “He has no love for Governor Wranger.”
“You gamble much, testing his loyalty.”
“Do you have a better idea? We need to find a place we can lie low within the camp. We can’t wander around in broad daylight, someone will recognize you.”
“No, I see no better option, but don’t reveal my identity. He knows you. If he asks, I’m just a rebel survivor.”
Aventine nodded, but did not reply. They had reached the grimy tent. The door was pinned open, and inside were at least fifteen cots jammed end to end. At the back, a flimsy partition had been set up to create a small private space. Half the beds were occupied. Mud sucked at their feet as they walked inside—the smell was terrible.
Aventine saw movement behind the partition, and a heartbeat later Marthis appeared. Rugged and swarthy, he looked out of place as an innkeeper. He squinted in the morning light, trying to make out Aventine and Saffrin where they were silhouetted in the doorway.
“Aventine?” he said. “Is that you?”
Aventine made a shushing motion with her hand and took five quick steps to stand before Marthis.
“Aye, it’s me,” she said. “Keep your voice down. Someone might know my name.”
Marthis’s eyes grew wide. In a hushed voice he said, “By the blood of the emperor, it is you! I thought to never see you again after you and Holmgrim disappeared into the city. That same night the castle burned and hundreds of soldiers marched into the mountains. Since then, they say it’s war in the Brokenspire Peaks.”
“We’ve come from the mountains. For the past month Holmgrim and I have fought with the resistance. Yesterday, the First finally rooted out and slaughtered the rebels. We’re all that’s left. Holmgrim is in the hills, waiting for us to return.”
Behind them, a few of the sleeping figures stirred, disturbed by their conversation.
“Come with me,” Marthis said, keeping his voice low. He led them behind the partition at the back. There was just enough room for a bed, a table, and his chest of personal belongings. “My wife’s at work in the camp, so we’ve some privacy. Now tell me why you’re here. If you’ve escaped the First, you’re fugitives of the highest order. Why walk back to the enemy’s doorstep?”<
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Aventine glanced at Saffrin. “We need to get a warning into the city. With the rebels in the mountains dead, the First will turn their attention to hunting loyalists inside the walls. They need to know what’s happened, that there’s no help coming.”
“And you come to me for this?” Marthis said, his voice hard. “If the First finds you here, my life is forfeit.”
“Governor Wranger has betrayed Emperor Pontius. The rebels he’s been hunting in the mountains are those that refused to turn traitor. They were forced to flee Umgragon because they tried to stage a revolt and open the gates of the city to let the refugees in.”
Marthis did not immediately respond. Aventine watched as the man grappled with the implications of what she had told him. His forehead wrinkled in thought, Marthis stared at the ground between them.
Here’s the test of his loyalty. Will he risk his life to help those who still serve the emperor?
Aventine’s hand crept toward where her dagger was hidden under her shirt. If she did not trust Marthis’s answer, he could not be allowed to leave.
“Damnation,” Marthis finally said. “The official message from the city was that the rebels tried to assassinate the governor, but that rang hollow with me. The First has been snatching people from the camp for ‘questioning.’ They don’t return. They’ve all been good people, people I know. None of them were in on a plot to assassinate Wranger.”
He let out a big sigh and scrubbed his face with his hands. Then he straightened and squared his shoulders. “Very well. If Wranger has turned his back on the empire, I’ll stand with you. Once in the Legion, always in the Legion. I’m the emperor’s soldier until I die. What would you have me do?”
Aventine gave Marthis a grim smile. “Holmgrim’s friends are chiseled from the same rock he was.”
Marthis snorted. “I’m not brave, just stubborn. You tell that big heathen I’ll see him again when this is all over.”
“I will,” Aventine said. “We need a place to lie low and meet our contact in private. If any rebel agents have survived, they’ll find us. Once we deliver our message, we’ll need to stay hidden until nightfall. Holmgrim will be waiting for us in the south after dark.”
“That’s easy enough,” Marthis said. “You can hide out here. I’ll tell my wife we have guests; she’s as loyal to the emperor as I am. Never would have married her otherwise.”
Saffrin spoke up for the first time. “We are in your debt. Your loyalty will not be forgotten.”
Marthis squinted at her. “You seem awfully familiar. Do I know you?”
“Oh, certainly not,” Saffrin said. “I’m just a rebel fighter that escaped with Aventine.”
Marthis did not appear convinced, but he did not press the issue.
“I’ll have to keep running the inn,” Marthis said. “If I were to close up, that would attract attention.”
“Go then,” Aventine said. “We’ll lift the tent wall if we need to leave.”
Marthis nodded. He gave the two of them one last look and then walked around the partition and back into the public area.
“You have to stay here,” Aventine said, turning to Saffrin. “There’s no way you can walk openly around the camp. I’ll go in your stead. Tell me what signal I need to leave to find your agents.”
Saffrin shook her head. “You could walk straight into a trap and never know. Without me, you’re blind.”
“And with you I’m a target. You’re going to have to trust me.”
Saffrin looked torn, but she finally relented. She reached under her shirt and pulled out a piece of red fabric. About the size of Aventine’s open hand, it was cut in the shape of a diamond.
“Put this on top of a tent near the wall. If any of my people still live, inside the city or out, they’ll be watching. Find a place to wait. Within two hours someone should come remove the signal and loiter in the area, looking for you. Make contact with them and bring them here. Test them with the phrase, ‘At dawn’s light the night fades.’ They must respond with, ‘The emperor’s will is the sun of day.’ ”
Aventine took the red diamond of cloth and tucked it into the waistband of her pants. “If I’m not back by evening, assume the worst,” she said. “If that happens, don’t wait for me. Get out and find Holmgrim.”
Before Aventine could leave, Saffrin reached out a hand and caught her by the forearm. Aventine turned to see Saffrin gazing at her, a searching look on the other woman’s face.
“Why do this?” Saffrin said. “Why help me? Without you and Holmgrim we would not have lasted two days in the mountains. Yet you stood with us. And now you risk everything to help me send a message to my brother. Why?”
Aventine was moved by the emotion in Saffrin’s eyes, by the gratitude she heard in the woman’s words. She placed a hand over Saffrin’s. “Because it’s what my mother would have done. Because it’s what my father would want. And because it’s what the emperor would command.”
“If I had ten more like you, I would rule the Black Citadel,” Saffrin said, her eyes shining.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Aventine said. “We have to survive first. You’ll be back someday, but not now. Keep that in your mind. We leave at dusk.”
Gently, Aventine removed her arm from Saffrin’s grip. She turned and raised the tent wall up just high enough to scoot under. A heartbeat later she was standing on the other side of the leather wall. The morning sunlight warmed her face. In front of her, people moved about the camp with purpose. Carpenters worked to erect new shacks, livestock were being tended to in crude pens, and everywhere else signs of fledgling industry and trade hinted at the beginnings of something.
Saffrin’s right. In another month, this will be a small town.
Anonymous and ignored, Aventine set out through the busy encampment. People smiled and nodded at her, but no one gave her a second glance. Half a mile away, the walls of Umgragon defied the sun with their cold, black stone.
Doing her best to look like she belonged, Aventine navigated the muddy footpaths that crisscrossed the camp. Soon, she was staring up at the battlements from only a hundred feet away. Even in the daylight the city’s defenses were intimidating. She scanned the tops of the walls, worried she might find a First Legion watchman looking back at her, but she saw no one.
When she spied a suitable tent, low to the ground and near the wall, she strolled casually toward it. As she passed, she slipped the cloth diamond from her waistband and slapped it onto the sun-bleached leather. There was no wind, so the patch of fabric should stay in place. She resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had spotted her.
The signal set, Aventine kept walking. Now she had to find a place to wait. Many of the refugees had carried everything they owned with them when they fled their homes. Some had piled their material possessions high on wooden wagons and pulled them all the way to Umgragon. These carts littered the camp, and beneath their wheels was room enough for a person to hide.
Aventine picked a cart that would give her a good view of the tent she had marked. As she neared the wagon, she risked a quick look around to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied that she was unobserved, she ducked into the cool space between the spoked wheels. Boxes were stacked around her hiding place, so unless someone poked their head down to look under the wagon, she was invisible. She settled in to wait.
For an hour she watched. Nothing happened. The refugees did not venture close to the city walls. In the middle of the second hour, when she was about to give up hope, a figure appeared. Strong and handsome looking, perhaps a refugee laborer. He walked along the border of the camp, seemingly aimless, but Aventine could tell he was searching for something. She waited for him to find the red diamond. When he did, he did not acknowledge it in any way.
A chill shot up Aventine’s spine.
She had been on her hands and knees, ready to crawl out and call to the man. She hunkered back down. Now that he had seen the signal, the stranger no longer searched for it. Inste
ad, he was on high alert, walking fast to get away from the immediate area. Aventine shrank back, trying to hide from his gaze.
He was supposed to take the cloth!
She held her breath as he walked past the wagon she was hidden under. He had not seen her. He did not reappear, but she knew he was somewhere watching and waiting, just as she was. Aventine was trapped. She had no doubt the stranger was one of Wranger’s men. If Saffrin’s contact did appear, there was no way to talk to them without revealing herself. And if she stayed quiet, Wranger’s agent would probably stalk and kill the rebel sympathizer.
Before she could decide on a plan of action, a second figure appeared. It was the young girl she had talked to at the kettle. She was hauling a wooden pail. Aventine’s heart sank.
Please don’t be the contact.
The girl walked some distance from the tents and dumped the contents of her bucket on the ground. She made a show of stretching and massaging her muscles. At the same time, she turned and looked out over the camp. Done with her chore, she picked up her pail and walked back toward the tents. So quick that it was almost unnoticeable, she plucked the red diamond from the tent roof as she strolled past.
Blast. Why is nothing ever easy?
Before the girl could vanish into the bustle of the camp, Aventine scrambled from her hiding place and chased after. Wranger’s man might see her, but there was nothing she could do about it. She came up alongside the girl and gripped her firmly by the elbow. “At dawn’s light the night fades,” she said into the girl’s ear.
“T-the emperor’s will is the light of day,” the girl said, her voice shaky.
“Don’t stop,” Aventine said. “Someone else was watching you. They’ll be following us. Do exactly as I say.”
The girl nodded.
“Go directly to Marthis’s inn,” Aventine said. “The Lady Saffrin is hiding inside, waiting to speak with you. I’m going to double back and try to intercept Wranger’s man.”