Justine flipped the blade in her hand, catching it by the steel, hilt towards the merchant. He stepped back apace, face marred with fear, before smiling once more and greedily accepting the steel. “Please refrain from such displays.” Then, after a moment. “Does it interest you?”
“If it does, you have no taste.”
Justine turned to the sudden voice; it was familiar but she could not place it. Blue eyes flashed beneath a light brown hood and a slight smiled crossed shadowed lips. “Do I—”
“Begone!” the merchant cried. “Or must I summon the guard? They will come, see that they will not.”
“They will come,” the hooded woman began strongly, “but not for the reason you may think. How much longer do you think they will let you sell crude steel?”
“Do you question the very steel forged from the great mountain?”
“I question your word.”
“I have half a mind to …”
The newcomer suddenly turned to Justine, gauntleted hand grasping her forearm. She tried to jerk free, but the grip was strong, and her other hand fell to the satchel. The stranger, undeterred, said, “This merchant’s swords are brittle; they shall break ‘gainst a training dummy. There are merchants worthier of your coin.”
“It was not my blade that broke!” the merchant insisted. “I know the steel you tried to return—it was not mine. Begone, both of you, before the guard comes.”
Justine grimaced whilst they spoke. She wanted to grasp the God Stone, withdraw it, and cut away this woman’s arm. I would ne’er leave the city if I did that, but if this woman draws the attention of the guard…
Suddenly the woman pulled away, though not before dropping a coin in Justine’s hand. Turning it over quickly, it was worn with wear, silver, with a broad sword upon one side and an escutcheon on the other. The coin would not be accepted by any merchant either side of the sea. I was given its kind, long ago. A lifetime ago. When I was knighted. It means less now, but …
“Have I convinced you?” the woman asked.
“I see no harm,” Justine said, stuffing the coin in a pouch hanging from her belt, though her left hand ne’er left the satchel. “Lead on.”
“Do not come back!” the merchant shouted as Justine followed.
The hooded woman weaved in and out of the crowds, leading towards a tight crop of blackened stone buildings; they were closely built and nearly leaning in on each other.
Who are you? Justine thought, shouldering past the indolent crowd, never taking her eye from the hooded stranger. And how do you have a coin from the Royal Protectors?
“The alley—do not tarry!” the hooded woman shouted, rounding a corner and taking a dirt road away from the market square.
Justine quickened her step, the crowds fading to a dull murmur. Shadows engulfed the alley, and she slammed the woman against the wall, forearm to the stranger’s throat. “Who are you?!”
“The guards, if they—”
“Who are you?!” Gabriel, lords Arthur and Theodore, and Amos. Justine had enough of their games and riddles, and she would not suffer any more, even if this stranger had naught to do with them. “Answer or you shall never speak again.”
“I am ever yours,” the hooded woman said.
Justine backed away. The woman drew down her hood and Amerie looked back. “I thought the coin would be enough.”
Justine pulled down her own hood. “It is good to see you after …” She let the words trail off. Amerie was here, in Lord Theodore’s city, far from where Irwin Kole could have been. “There is an important matter that—”
Amerie pulled Justine against the wall; a pair of city guards gazed down the alley briefly before turning away.
“They will not be the last,” Amerie said quietly. “Follow me.” She sped off.
“You will give me answers,” Justine said, catching up. Amerie led through a maze of alleys that were unrecognizable as the next. “The guards be cursed.”
“My friend, if you force speech, you will give up all that I have done.”
“I gave you leave to search for Irwin Kole, not pick out steel in Lord Theodore’s city.”
“And that is why I came here.”
Justine did not understand. “Answers—”
“Await you,” Amerie said pleasantly, unlocking a narrow wooden door to a stunted home a few paces before the end of the narrow alley. “Then you shall have your answers.”
Justine reminded herself that Amerie had always remained true to her word. In the wake of so much treachery and betrayal, the knight’s loyalty was one of the only comforts.
She smiled briefly at Amerie; the knight’s face was joyous and little doubt marred it. I must trust her. Whatever my misgivings. “It has been a long journey.”
“Mine as well,” Amerie said, inclining her head to the steps. “It will be for naught if we are seen.”
Reluctantly, Justine patted Amerie on the shoulder and descended the wooden stairs. The steps groaned with every stride, and in the distance the burnished yellow glow of candles glittered. No windows scaled the darkened walls, but bookshelves stuffed with parchments and leather tomes lined the wall. In the centre of the chamber a slender man hunched over a squat wooden desk, his feathered quill scratching endlessly over a worn parchment.
Justine turned to Amerie, who bounded down to the chamber not far behind. The knight had the slightest of smiles, simply pointing to the man.
“Who are you?” Justine asked, unsure of what voice would respond.
“Returned already, Amerie?” the man said without raising his eyes, as if Justine’s question was of no consequence. “Has my word meant so little to you? Yes, yes, we shall defend your Dale, but I must see to other matters.”
“You did not answer my question.”
“Justine?” The man raised his eyes and clapped his beringed hands together, letting the quill smudge the parchment. She knew who it was, but it led to more questions. “I did not know it was you, nor that you were in the city.” He shot Amerie an accusatory glare.
“I did not know either,” Amerie said flatly. “I would have thought Justine would still be in Dale, though I do not question her decisions.”
“Much has changed Amerie,” Justine said flatly, hoping that would end the subject. “Irwin Kole, it is good to see you.”
“And you, Justine,” he replied, striding towards her with arms outstretched. She raised a hand and Irwin stopped in his place; a hurt look was smothering his face. “Ah, dinner first, yes, I do recall my manners.”
Dinner was the last thing Justine wanted to do with Irwin Kole. “You have pledged ships to my cause?”
“Yes, yes, I have,” Irwin replied, smiling broadly and rocking back and forth on his heels. “We do share an enemy Justine—one that I am only too eager to see cast down. My fleet, your knights and warrior priests, it may just be enough to stave off the legions that Lord Theodore holds at his beck and call.”
Little doubt rested in her mind that Lord Theodore possessed formidable strength, but Irwin Kole fled the northern settlement with little to his name, and now he claimed fleets, not simply an array of ships? “I wish to hear your story, Irwin.”
“Story, Justine?”
Justine sighed. “I saw some of the men and women loyal to you, not freely walking but bound and chained. I know that you managed to flee the northern settlement, but I doubt how you managed strength at sea.”
Irwin walked back to his desk and picked up his discarded quill and placed it back in the inkpot. “That does beggar an explanation. So be it, but it may be long in the telling.”
“He is long-winded, Justine,” Amerie said, a smile crossing her face, “that much has not changed. It is worth your time to hear.”
“You had better start, Irwin,” Justine said, leaning against a wooden pillar.
Irwin cleared his throat. “To begin, I will not recall our impoverishment and imprisonment, save our escape. Lord Theodore is a bastard, but not one so lost to manners.
I was kept away, though spared a dark cell. I had some comforts, and that, it seemed, proved ruinous for the pompous ass.
“Much of the strength that Lord Theodore had and still possesses are young men, no more than boys, truly, who think this is all a lark. It was not hard to outwit them; I lessened my guard with tempting offers and overpowering all that remained. I took the keys in the dead of night, freed who I could, and fled to the eastern coast without regret.”
“Many were left behind,” Justine said strongly. “Is that why you are in the city?”
“Ah, Justine, you would ask for my story in the correct order. I will tell you of my presence here, but pray, may I tell it from the beginning?”
Justine inclined her head.
“Just so. I told my friends that we had to hurry, for the lord would not be far behind. I pushed day and night to the south and east, resting only when we were deep beneath the boughs of the forest. My friends were tired and restless, yes, but I kept them alive. A favour they have not forgotten. Anyway, we came to the end of the forest, to a sheer cliff. I leaned over the slide and saw handholds. I knew at once what it was: a smuggler’s hideaway.
“Many who accompanied me did not wish the descent, but I told them to come or die—by the lord’s hand or the beasts that dwell near. They all came, and not a one, I am pleased to say, fell to their death. It was not long until we did find a smuggler’s hideaway, and there we dwelled for some weeks, eating away at all the stores that were there.
“Then a guest arrived. Or should I rather say a crew? A gruff, lanky man led a band of mercenaries. He was, hmm, most unkind, Justine, until he saw who I was, and I saw him: Mach Kaneer.”
“Am I supposed to recognize the name, Irwin?” Justine asked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. The story seemed sensible to that point.
“Mayhap so, or not,” Irwin answered, chuckling. “He is a mercenary captain, make no mistake, but he was often employed by the Guild. We knew each other. He, too, had grown dissatisfied with King Adrian, and was less than fond of Lord Theodore. And me, well, not all men care for me, shocking as it may be.”
I cannot imagine why, Justine thought whilst narrowing her eyes.
“So instead I made him an offer,” Irwin continued. “Whence Lord Theodore’s head was severed from his shoulders, all my hidden caches along the Trechtian coast would be his to do with what he will. I thought this a good offer, until he laughed and laughed. I doubted myself in that moment and asked why he laughed. Mach simply said there would not be enough caches to satisfy all the captains who would answer the call.”
“Mercenaries,” Justine said, chewing the word. “You have a fleet of mercenaries?”
“That will be at your disposal, Justine,” Irwin said triumphantly. If her disgust permeated his arrogant countenance, he did not show it. “At last count I have fifty ships; an even keel to Lord Theodore’s, I assure you.”
“All whose loyalties I cannot trust,” Justine said, unsure of the arrangement.
“I have not met with these men and women, Justine,” Amerie said quietly, “though I believe it a risk worth taking. I am not so naive to think that they will not fly to where the coin sacks are heaviest, but you saw the people in the market square. They do not prosper. Lord Theodore despises us—and you, most of all—and so all his coin has gone into this legion. If Lord Theodore falls, then—”
“All the metal ore of these mountains will be ripe for the taking,” Irwin said quickly. “These are promises that I may have made. Understandable, given the situation, yes?”
“A wroth kingdom to the west,” Justine began, sighing, “and scum to the east who have tasted blood. Whether Trecht moves against us or not, these mercenaries of yours would profit from our ruin.”
“You are distrustful, I understand, and—”
“You understand less than you think,” Justine said curtly. “Now, Irwin Kole, why are you here?”
Irwin wringed his beringed hands. “I had only met with your trusted knight this morning. Before this day dawned, I thought to contend with Lord Theodore on my own. I, and no other, am here to listen to whispers and learn of his intent. Knowledge, as all who trade know, far exceeds any good in a ship’s hold.”
“And what have you learned?” Justine near shouted but did not care. It was all madness. “What knowledge have you learned.”
“Some of use, others, not nearly as much. Sadly, most of it is on the lips of every drunk in the city, so I shall not bore you with it.”
Justine grunted.
“This may please you,” Irwin began and frowned for the first time. “I have it on good authority that Lord Theodore has met with a man cloaked from shoulders to foot. I have not seen this man myself, but it is said his rheumy yellow eyes and long white hair are unmistakeable. Is that not familiar to you?”
Justine’s hand shot for the satchel at her waist. Amos was in the city and meeting with Lord Theodore. The game of blood and broken bodies was not near an end. How many more must die for this? How many?!
“Justine?” Irwin asked, leaning over his desk, eyes flittering with concern. “Who does it remind you of?”
“King Adrian was advised by a cloak man, masked in shadow, was he not?” Amerie asked.
“That is what I wished to hear,” Irwin said, smiling once more. “Perhaps the three of us can go to dinner, yes?”
“Do not press your luck,” Amerie said without kindness.
“Yes, yes, I understand. Hmm, but yes, it does seem oddly striking that the very thing we fled from is what Lord Theodore wishes to run headstrong towards. All the more reason we must put an end to this.”
Yes, we must, but it does not end the way you think. “Is the cloaked man still in the city?”
“Ah no,” Irwin replied quickly. “He left some days ago.”
“Where is he?!”
“Justine, this man is beyond our concern,” Amerie said strongly. A little too strongly. “When Lord Theodore can no longer command, this man’s voice will be silent.”
“Where is he?!” Justine repeated. She saw Amerie sigh deeply. I am sorry, my friend. This is my burden; I must see it through.
“Do calm yourself, Justine,” Irwin said as he withdrew a weathered map. It was of this continent: mountain ranges sprawled near everywhere, though flat plains broke up the rugged land. “Here.” He pointed to a faded road heading east. “There are no towns and cities that way, but they say there is …”
“There is what?” Justine insisted.
“Here.” Irwin pointed to the far eastern mountain range, southeast of the city. “The mountain breaks, as if a giant broke through it. There the air warms, even in the heart of winter, and no snows touches the sands that churn.”
“A desert?” Justine asked.
“The Desert of Death, they call it,” Irwin explained, his face creased with worry. “None who enter ever leave it.”
Justine took the parchment, folded it, and tucked it behind her belt. “Amerie, I want you returned to Dale. We must be ready.”
“You are welcome for the map,” Irwin said distantly.
Justine ignored the trader. “The walls must be finished, whatever the priesthood says. I will return once I see to this cloaked man.”
“No.”
Justine could not remember a time when Amerie had been defiant. Her most trusted knight looked back scornfully. “This is not a debate.”
“It should be.”
Irwin buried himself in some papers, humming tunelessly.
“This is not the time for this, Amerie. I need you to trust me.”
“I do, Justine,” Amerie said, looking away. “When Lord Theodore lands upon our shores, we will need you. You lead us all here.”
In a flash the God Stone resonated; Justine shot her hand to the satchel. The voices echoed in her head, but she pushed them away.
Amerie looked back longingly. “When can Lord Theodore set sail, Irwin?”
“Weeks, at the earliest,” he said without rais
ing his eyes.
“I promise I will return ‘ere they set sail,” Justine said, embracing Amerie. The knight barely moved her arms. “I promise.”
“You had better.” Amerie walked over beside Irwin Kole. “There are some matters which I …”
Justine knew the matter was not settled, but she raised her hood and ascended the stairs.
The horse reared, nearly throwing Justine off. She pulled the reins, steadying the horse. Settled, she fanned her hands above her brow and saw an immense break in the mountains, as if a boulder had smashed through it. A dry air beat at her and sand glittered in the distance.
“Good, good, I will not press you further,” she said, dismounting from the slender bay. Unstrapping her saddlebags, she rapped the horse on the rear and he sped back towards the city. “Safe travels, faithful beast.”
She pressed towards the break in the mountains. It looked like an enormous maw; the sheer rocks from the side bearing down like teeth, the sand swirling and churning.
Foot upon the sand, she stopped and gazed outward. The horizon was a bland orange, pocked by sand dunes rising and falling. The heat felt oppressive and drear.
Unslinging the satchel from her shoulder, she unlatched her cloak and cowl, stuffing it away. Her hands drifted to the boiled leather armour, but she decided to keep it on. A water skin at hand though. Always.
Hours drifted together. The heat seemed to rise, even when the day waned. By dusk she nestled underneath a sand dune and bit off some beef jerky, though she spit out sand and dust. When her stomach rumbled, she wrapped it back up and took a brief swig of water before looking to the stars. The same here as it is back home. Small comforts.
Time seemed to stand still. The stars twinkled but they seemed less clear than they were a moment before. Justine shook her head, thinking of Amerie. When this has come to an end, I will talk to you, my friend. I shall account all of this. My father’s burden, Gabriel, Amos. All of it. Until then, I need you to trust me.
She sighed deeply. It was easy to think about, less simple to do. Slumping against the sand dune, her eye lids felt like lead and she let sleep take her.
She awoke to a scorching heat. Allowing herself a sip of water and another strip of jerky, she strode eastwards, weaving in and out of sand dunes. She tried to keep her eye on the ground, searching for some sign of Amos but there were none. Occasionally, she looked atop the sand dunes and saw remnants of stone towers and broken foundations. They peaked her curiosity, but she knew it was a wasted effort.
The Prelude to Darkness Page 16