The Covenant Rising d-1

by Stan Nichols

  ‘We’re not going to change your mind on this, are we?’ Karr realised. ‘You always were your own man, Kinsel. Go ahead and attend the damned reception then. I’ll have some of our people reconnoitre the place beforehand, and they’ll stay nearby in case of trouble.’

  ‘What’s so special about this reception?’ Caldason asked.

  ‘All gatherings of top state officials interest us for the unguarded comments that tend to be dropped. This one’s particularly important because the commanders of the fleets are going to be there.’

  ‘Why do they interest you?’

  ‘We’ve heard rumours about an expedition that’s about to be mounted. It’s supposedly a trade mission, though there seems to be a lot of military involvement. We suspect the Bhealfan flag’s being used to cover some empire adventure. The whisper is that the flotilla’s heading north, so we think it might have something to do with Zerreiss, the warlord.’

  ‘The man who fell from the sun,’ Tanalvah said.

  Karr frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘I heard him called that, in the ship on the way here. They say his own people gave him that title. I don’t know why.’

  ‘I knew he had some fancy names, but I’ve never come across that one before.’

  ‘I’ve heard something similar,’ Serrah added. ‘That came from seamen, too, and they’re usually a good source of information. When they’re sober. And back in Gath Tampoor my unit had a briefing on him.’

  ‘I’d be keen to hear about that.’

  ‘Don’t get too excited; it was pretty basic stuff. No more in it than you probably already know.’

  ‘I think I see where this is going, Karr,’ Caldason said. ‘You’re hoping to make this warlord your ally. An asset to the Resistance, like Founder magic.’

  ‘It’s crossed our minds. My enemy’s enemy and all that. But equally, we’d be concerned that Zerreiss might make an alliance with Gath Tampoor. An accommodation could suit both sides, and we’d have another force ranged against us.’

  ‘What’s to stop them doing the same with this Clepsydra thing and what you call the Source? They must have heard of them. Why haven’t they located them and turned Founder magic against the Resistance? Not to mention against Rintarah. Come to that, why hasn’t Rintarah tried finding them?’

  ‘We have no answer to those questions.’

  ‘An obvious one would be that these artifacts don’t exist and the empires know it.’

  ‘Or that they believe they’re just legends and haven’t bothered looking. Or they have searched and they’re just too hard to find. We still think there’s everything to play for, Reeth.’

  ‘Then the sooner you get me out there the better.’

  ‘We’ll be working on it, believe me. But you’re forgetting something. We’re putting ourselves out for you, so you could at least meet us halfway. Why not do the same as Serrah here, and Tanalvah, and join the Resistance formally? I know you wanted to think on it, but really, what’s there to think about?’

  Caldason looked from one face to another, lingering just a little longer on the impassive Serrah.

  ‘All right,’ he said.

  Taken aback by Reeth’s sudden change of mind, Kutch exclaimed, ‘Don’t forget me!’

  ‘Excellent,’ Karr enthused. ‘You can both have your own impromptu swearing-in ceremony, right here.’

  ‘Just make good use of me,’ Caldason told him. ‘I’m growing bored with inaction.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. You’re going to be earning your keep from now on, believe me.’

  Caldason was only half listening. His attention was on the inscrutable expression Serrah wore.

  21

  A lot happened in the course of the next few days.

  The social gathering Kinsel Rukanis attended passed without incident. But it was disappointing in intelligence terms. He learnt almost nothing about the supposed trading mission to the north, except that it was due to depart in a matter of weeks.

  Nobody was greatly surprised when Kinsel and Tanalvah Lahn set up home together, living with Teg and Lirrin as a family.

  Kutch began his training as a spotter, supervised by Phoenix himself. It proved harder than he expected, leaving him exhausted after most sessions and sometimes uncharacteristically fractious.

  There was a riot in one of Valdarr’s poorest quarters, sparked by a dispute over the provision of clean drinking water. The authorities’ heavy-handed response left eleven dead and an uncounted number of injured. Somebody burnt down a militia staging-post later the same day, bringing more reprisals.

  A small group of insurgents, using a customised bootleg enchantment, managed to conjure an enormous flying pig. Hovering above the city, it spewed a multicoloured alphabet that arranged itself into a coarse limerick featuring a local official. Sorcerers had to be brought in to neutralise the pig with anti-glamour bolts. But not before the anatomically impossible feat described in the limerick had amused a wide swathe of the population.

  An obscure member of the Bhealfan royal family was attacked in the street by a man with a grievance. The man was downed by bodyguards wielding glamoured shock sticks.

  A district organiser with the Resistance disappeared, presumed captured or dead, and there was talk of betrayal. A mid-ranking military chief was assassinated on his own doorstep by an archer hiding on a rooftop opposite. A magical brawl between groups of licensed and unlicensed sorcerers started a fire that gutted half a dozen riverside houses and an inn.

  And Reeth Caldason and Serrah Ardacris prepared to commit a robbery.

  The United Revolutionary Council had ordered the formation of a special operations unit, similar to the one Serrah had commanded in Merakasa. But Serrah wasn’t made its leader. That role was pressed on a reluctant Caldason, for reasons best known to the council. If Serrah resented demotion to second-in-command, she didn’t show it. Perhaps because she allowed herself to reveal little in the way of emotions. Or because, in practice, she and Caldason led the group jointly.

  Beneath them in the band’s command structure were two ‘subalterns’, with eight ‘privates’ forming the pyramid’s base. Half the membership was drawn from the ranks of the Resistance. The other half came from the Fellowship of the Righteous Blade, hand-picked by Quinn Disgleirio. All were seasoned fighters. But the unit lacked a thirteenth member, due to the scarcity of combat sorcerers.

  At the end of a hard day’s training in a small wood beyond the city limits, Reeth and Serrah were summoned to Karr’s hideaway. No one else was present at the meeting. It took place in a cellar whose entrance was concealed by a glamour that mimicked a solid wall. Used for planning and briefing sessions, the cellar was brightly lit and well appointed.

  They sat at one of several large benches, taking refreshments. For Serrah and Caldason, who shared frugal appetites, that meant light fare and plain water. Karr allowed himself a goblet of diluted brandy.

  He swallowed a mouthful and said, ‘Is everything going well with the band?’

  ‘Seems to be,’ Caldason replied. ‘They work together and take orders. No problems so far.’

  ‘You being a Qalochian isn’t an issue? I should hope it isn’t, of course, but prejudice can exist even in our ranks.’

  ‘No more an issue than Serrah being a Gath Tampoorian, I’d say.’

  ‘Good. So, you think the band’s ready to be put to the test?’

  ‘Ready as it’ll ever be.’

  ‘Serrah?’

  She nodded. Her eyes were less hollow, there was more colour in her face. Rest, nourishment and having a purpose had begun to revive her. ‘Ready and eager. Particularly if there’s a chance of doing some damage to my old masters.’

  ‘Then I think you’ll approve of what we have in mind.’ Karr took another drink. ‘It’s no secret that one of the ways we finance ourselves is through stealing. Not from the common people, of course. We take from the masters, the imperialists who squeeze their vassals dry. You might call it ethical robbery. It�
��s something of that kind I’m proposing for your unit.’

  ‘A politician involved in criminal enterprises?’ Caldason gently mocked. ‘Whatever next?’

  Karr laughed. ‘Does beggar belief, doesn’t it?’ More soberly, he added, ‘But there’s a real contradiction, of course. No decent public servant should be forced into illegality, no matter how deserving the cause. There comes a time when the disparities are too difficult to balance. I think that’s where I am now.’

  ‘What are you going to do about it?’ Serrah asked.

  ‘The day’s close when I’m going to have to give up so-called legitimate politics. To do what I urged Kinsel to do and get out. Things have gone too far for lawful opposition to make much difference now. Direct action’s the only path I can see.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’ve stuck it out this long,’ Caldason said.

  ‘You hold on to your illusions, you know? Once, politics seemed to make a difference. Somehow you lose sight of the fact that it doesn’t anymore. You don’t see the piecrust promises and downright lies, and go on believing that the platitudes matter.’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune. Not that long ago you were saying politics still had a value.’

  ‘Partly it was seeing Kinsel come so near to grief. That was sobering. But mostly it’s the general situation. The more we kick out at the state, the more they ratchet up their oppression. That’s only to be expected, but it makes it harder to achieve anything through official channels. It certainly makes it more difficult for me to live two lives.’

  ‘So you’re going underground.’

  ‘Probably. But I’ve not officially made the decision, so keep it to yourselves, will you?’

  They nodded.

  ‘I’ve got us away from the subject,’ Karr went on, businesslike. ‘First priority is your mission. And it’s the sort we particularly favour; a redistribution of some of the taxes leeched from the provinces.’

  ‘Redistribution,’ Serrah repeated, quietly pleased with the word.

  ‘Yes. It doesn’t all go back to the people, but we pass on as much as we can after our needs.’

  Caldason raised an eyebrow. ‘So

  you’re

  taxing them.’

  ‘They give it willingly, Reeth, believe me. Look at it as the state collecting donations on the Resistance’s behalf. And the collection we’re concerned with happens once every three months. That’s how often they bring in the tithes from outlying districts. In this case, from quite a wide area to the east of the city. That’s rich farming land, several good-sized towns and a lot of villages, as you know. Should be a hefty take.’ He produced a large rolled parchment and nodded at the bench. ‘Clear that, would you?’

  They swept aside the food and drink. Karr unravelled the parchment, which they weighted at the corners.

  ‘A paper map,’ Serrah muttered. ‘Quaint.’

  It showed an edge of Valdarr where a hamlet was being absorbed by the spreading city. The effect was like the profile of a face with an absurdly long nose. A smattering of buildings thrust out from the urban mass into virgin countryside. The farthest end of the captured hamlet, the tip of the nose, met a small river, with a few buildings on its far side. At that point there was a bridge. When the road it carried reached the city side, it turned sharply and narrowed, threading its way through a cluster of houses and tree-lined lanes.

  ‘That’s the only bridge for miles,’ Karr informed them. He didn’t have to spell out the potential for ambush.

  Caldason pointed at the map. ‘You’re sure they’ll go that way?’

  ‘They vary the route every time, but we have good intelligence that it’s going to be along here.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘That’s the thing. This evening. In about four hours.’

  ‘Gods, Karr,’ Serrah exclaimed, ‘that’s cutting it a bit fine, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. But the tip-off just reached us. It’s tonight or in another three months, and next time we might not know the route.’

  ‘What sort of numbers are we talking about?’ Caldason said. ‘How’s it protected?’

  ‘One or two wagons for the load. Escort party of between twelve and twenty, going on past form. Certain to be paladins among them.’

  ‘They outnumber us.’

  ‘I’m sure you can be inventive on that score. And maybe we can bleed their number with a few diversions.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Serrah mused. ‘They’re going to be well glamoured, aren’t they?’

  ‘Chances are they’ll have standard magical ordnance. But so will you. Only you won’t have a trained sorcerer on hand to work it properly. This is a dangerous mission, I won’t pretend it isn’t. Which is why I have to be sure your band’s up to scratch.’

  ‘It is,’ Caldason assured him. ‘We can deal with this.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be quite so hasty,’ Serrah said. ‘This is all last minute, we’re going to be outnumbered, the band’s untested, and -’

  ‘Oh, come on. You know we can do it.’

  ‘

  Planning

  , Reeth. It’s the key to any successful operation. How much preparation can we do in four hours? What’s our strategy if things go wrong?’

  ‘It looks pretty straightforward to me. It’s perfect terrain for waylaying a convoy and we’ll have the element of surprise.’

  ‘Rushing in blindly’s a lot worse than not doing it at all, believe me. Remember, I’ve had experience running units like this. The least we should do is give the rest of the band the choice of coming along or not.’

  ‘This isn’t a temple picnic, Serrah. We’re supposed to be a disciplined unit. We can’t give people the option of backing out. You’re worrying about the band too much; they’ll be all right.’

  ‘

  You’ll

  be all right, you mean.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘You’ve got this invulnerability thing, haven’t you? Well, the rest of us don’t have that luxury. You might keep that in mind when the lives of our band are on the line and you feel like behaving recklessly.’

  ‘I’d trade what I’ve got with you any time,’ Caldason replied icily. ‘And I’m not invulnerable. I can still be killed, or maimed if the wound’s bad enough.’

  ‘So you say. I’m just thinking about the safety of the group.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s something you know all about, isn’t it?’

  She glared at him. ‘What?’

  ‘They say you got a rich kid killed over in Merakasa. One of your band, wasn’t he?’

  ‘They say you’re a murderer of innocent women and children.’

  ‘That’s horse shit.’

  ‘Right.’

  Karr watched them as though they were a game of pass the ball.

  ‘I’m not careless with lives,’ Caldason rumbled.

  ‘And

  I

  am?’ Serrah returned.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘

  When

  are you respectful of other people’s lives? When you’re having one of your uncontrolled berserks, maybe?’

  ‘That’s not fair. I have no -’

  ‘Excuse me,’

  Karr grated. ‘Can I have your attention, please? Thank you. If you two can’t work together I’ll have to disband your unit. Which would be a shame because we see this mission as a rehearsal for more ambitious assignments. And not only will it increase our funds, it’ll get you that bit nearer to the Clepsydra, Reeth. So why don’t you both turn your little creative tensions towards the job at hand?’ He beamed at them. ‘What do you say?’

  They looked at each other. Serrah shrugged.

  ‘Fine,’ they chorused.

  It was dusk by the time they got to the site and in position. That left about a quarter of an hour before the convoy arrived.

  The point they chose was on a tight lane. One side was lined with outbuildings and abandoned properties. The other fronted the boundary of a wood, wher
e a pair of cottages stood in a small roadside clearing.

  Caldason and Serrah, on horseback, had hidden themselves on the wooded side. The bridge was to their right, but couldn’t be seen. What they could see was a lookout, stationed at a bend in the road, who had a clear view of the approach.

  To their left was the city, sparkling with its usual dizzy magic. Light bursts, lancing beams, glamours born and dying like a million swarming fireflies. The distant urban roar.

  Out here on Valdarr’s hinterland there was little in the way of magical discharge. Hardly anybody was about. A mild breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle, and grass after a recent shower. It was quiet, except for the sound of axes biting timber.

  The sky was turning the colour of lemons and blood as the sun sank. Stars glinted against spreading purple velvet.

  Serrah took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as though savouring a fine tobacco. The distraction of the mission seemed to have lightened her earlier testy mood.

  ‘At least the air’s better in these parts,’ Caldason remarked.

  ‘It’s not something I’m usually aware of.’ She added by way of explanation, ‘I’m a city girl.’

  It was the first time he’d known her volunteer any kind of personal detail. ‘I prefer the reality of the countryside,’ he confided.

  ‘That’s an odd choice of word;

  reality

  .’

  ‘It’s the Qalochian way of seeing the world. To us, cities seem an unnatural way to live. Unreal.’

  ‘You’ve never got used to them? Even after all your…’

  ‘Years? No, it gets worse. More people buzzing pointlessly about more buildings. More self-deluding magic. None of it’s restful to the spirit.’

  She glanced in the direction of the lookout. ‘Change happens. You can’t fight it.’

  ‘Live as long as I have and you realise that, believe me. But some things never change. People don’t, not really. They wallow in ignorance and always have an appetite for cruelty.’

  ‘I’d like to think there was some kindness and wisdom, too.’

  ‘So would I.’ His tone didn’t allow for any.