by Simon Brown
Now householders, who had been reluctant to come out after the screams, left their homes to gawk at them.
‘This is daft,’ another muleteer said.
The door on one of the houses across the street burst open. A middle-aged man appeared on the landing, saw Mikhel and his band and shouted out, ‘For the Sefid’s sake! Help me!’
But before anyone could ask him what the trouble was, something dark and quick and barely human leaped out of the house and fell on him, its open maw closing around the man’s neck.
Without thinking, Mikhel lit one of his packages and hurled it at the monster. It exploded right on the doorway, hurling the monster onto the street where it writhed in pain as fire quickly consumed it. Some of the muleteers ran forward to help the man who had been attacked.
‘It’s too late!’ Mikhel shouted back at them. ‘Get back in the circle!’ Then he turned to the householders, who were frozen in shock at what had happened. ‘Run, you fools! Run for your lives!’
*
‘Lord Protector, I need to know where we are going and I don’t expect to be brushed off like Avenel.’
Paimer regarded Montranto warily. The officer was getting less trustworthy as time went on, ironically because he was developing a conscience, or at least the semblance of some patriotism for Rivald. Too late, he thought, then immediately told himself it was never too late.
They had stopped for a short rest for the sake of the horses. Around them the day’s last light was fading from the sky. With luck they would reach his new estate soon, then they could rest properly for one night before moving on.
‘I wish I could tell you everything you want to know, Commander, and no matter what you think, I did not brush off Secretary Kendy. It was impossible at the time to answer his questions.’
Montranto looked uncomfortable, but not enough to back down. ‘Is it possible to answer mine?’
Paimer nodded wearily. ‘Some of them. We are going to my estate to collect my relatives.’
Paimer saw Montranto stiffening.
‘I know you do not like my relatives, Commander, but I hope you will feel differently when all this is over.’
‘All what is over?’
‘After my estate, we are going as quickly as we can to Hamewald.’
‘What for?’
‘Governor Chierma Axkevleren is dead.’
‘Chierma? Dead? How do you know this? I have heard nothing of it from Avenel, nor seen any correspondence about it.’
‘That is because Avenel does not know, and no correspondence has been sent. He has only just died. Undoubtedly Chierma’s secretary has something on its way now.’
Montranto cleared his throat. ‘This is the Sefid, isn’t it? That’s how you know.’
‘Commander, you have changed a great deal in the last three years, becoming in that time an officer I am proud to have on my staff, but sometimes you are a fool. Yes, it is to do with the Sefid, but no, that is not how I know about it. Chierma himself wrote to me telling me he was about to carry out an action, an extremely dangerous action, and I’m almost absolutely certain it would have required my niece the empress to respond drastically and dramatically. Now do you understand?’
Montranto stared dumbly at Paimer.
‘I see not. Well, the upshot is that we are now on our way to Hamewald to make sure that Chierma is indeed dead, and if so to put you in his place.’
Montranto gasped. ‘Me!’
Some of the escort, who were a little way in front and behind them, looked curiously in their direction.
‘Who else have I got?’
‘Well, your relatives for a start.’
‘They will never rule again,’ Paimer said. ‘But they may still serve Rivald.’
‘Serve Rivald?’
‘I think it is too late to save Hamilay,’ he said. ‘Now, let’s not waste any more time. We need to get to my estate as soon as possible.’
*
Mikhel, the muleteers and a handful of householders who had joined them in the circle survived the night. When daylight finally came, sending the creatures scurrying back into holes and under houses and into the darkest, coolest alleys they could find, they found themselves surrounded by the dead, the burned and the half-eaten.
Mikhel did not give his small party enough time to wonder what they had lived through, but immediately set them to organising pyres for all the bodies they could find. ‘But stay away from anywhere dark, any recesses or corners or basements or attics. When you go in a house, open every window, jam open every door.’
While they did that he rushed north to find his company and, after a quick explanation of what had happened overnight in Koegrah, force-marched them back to the city, reluctant though they were to enter it. By the time he returned to the street where he and the others had made their stand, the militia captain and a hundred or so militia had congregated, looking bewildered and terrified at the same time.
‘You were right, Commander,’ the captain told Mikhel, grasping his sleeve. ‘I am sorry. I had no idea such monsters existed. And I saw their eyes!’
‘Enough of that,’ Mikhel told him, removing his hand. ‘We have to organise, and quickly. Are these all your men?’
‘Yes. We lost so many. We had to pull back all night so they wouldn’t overwhelm us.’
‘What did you do with the bodies?’
‘Do with them? Nothing! What could we do! There were too many to bury.’
‘Don’t bury them. Burn them. It’s the only thing that stops them.’
‘Stops them?’
‘We have to get everyone out of Koegrah who is alive.’
‘Why, man?’
‘We have to burn the whole city. It’s the only chance we have.’
*
The carriages carrying Paimer’s relatives were moving as quickly as they could, but Paimer found it frustratingly slow. At this rate, it would be another four days at least before they reached Hamewald. Paimer wished he could have left the relatives behind, but he did not see how he had any chance at all against Lerena without them, not that he thought his chances were all that good with them by his side. As soon as he got to Hamewald he would leave Montranto in charge there and decide his next move, but he was reasonably certain it would involve moving north into Hamilay and towards Omeralt. At some point someone had to deal with Lerena, and he did not know anyone else in the world who might get as close to her as he could. Well, he admitted to himself, as close as he once could.
One question remained above all, though. Once he confronted Lerena, what would he do next?
*
It woke as soon as the sun was below the horizon, no longer concerned to stay hidden from view, only from the burning sun. The call was growing and it had to answer, and there was still a great distance to go. It sniffed the air for direction, caught a scent of fire, the only thing it was afraid of. It looked behind and saw the city it had escaped from the previous night lit up in flames. The whole place was burning, burning into the sky like a giant pyre. Then all around it the members of the family who had also escaped rose to their feet, looked briefly back towards the city, then moved off, heading southwest as fast as they could travel.
25
‘Are you feeling unwell, your Grace?’ asked Captain Ainchell.
General Second Prince Rodin Kevleren, commander of the imperial military expedition to the New Land, wondered if he could get away with answering the facetious captain by turning from the railing and vomiting over his nice white pants.
Strictly speaking he could do anything he liked, being a Kevleren, short of rebuking, renouncing or revolting against Her Majesty Lerena Empress of Hamilay. But strictly speaking was not plain speaking, and he told himself quite plainly that vomiting on the captain was not an action that would in the long term make his stomach feel any more comfortable or benefit his mission.
‘I am coping, Captain,’ he said, swallowing between words. ‘But thank you for your concern.’
‘I hope it was nothing you ate,’ the captain went on.
‘I assure you, it is the sea. This damnable rolling is doing it. Nothing to do with the food, which I am sure I would appreciate twice as much as I already do if I could keep it down for longer than it takes for me to scramble from the table to the side of the ship.’
With that, Rodin spat into the ocean for the hundredth time that day. He felt completely drained, and was surprised there was anything left in his stomach to throw up. From his position hanging over the quarterdeck’s port railing he could make out the stern lights of many of the ships he commanded. There seemed to be an awful lot of them, but he was sure some vessels had succumbed to the series of storms they had encountered. But all of that had been expected; they were travelling on the southern edge of the monsoons and had known they would encounter heavy weather. What no one could have known was that Rodin, usually so taciturn and contained, would prove to have not the legs of a seaman but the stomach of a newborn. Life at sea had proved hard enough for him in the calm waters the fleet had sailed through after first leaving Somah, but when the big waves and driving winds hit them halfway through their crossing, Rodin ended up sharing his time afloat between his sickbed and this exact spot, a sailor constantly assigned to him with a bucket and mop to clean up anything from his stomach that the wind threw back on deck.
And then there was Captain Ainchell, stiff as a ramrod, navy through and through, professional, loyal to the empress and a thoroughly brutish and sarcastic piece of work. Still, Rodin had to concede, Ainchell had got the flagship, the Star of Ember, through the storm without sinking her, and plotted a course that had kept the fleet mostly together and mostly afloat. They would not know exactly how together and afloat until the weather subsided or they saw land and could anchor in the lee of some bluff or headland. But enough, Rodin was sure, to complete their task of subjugating Kydan.
Although.
Although subjugating Kydan was the ultimate objective of the expedition, it might not be the best way to start it off.
Rodin promised to think more on it after consulting some of the charts and maps that were stored in his cabin, assuming his stomach allowed it.
*
Galys hung out the window of the second-floor room she occupied in an inn called the Somah Arms. From where she was she had a pretty good view of the harbour except for the western arm, which was blocked by a long dock and warehouses. While no one could say Somah was a quiet port, there was definitely an air of decline about it. A lot of the frenzied bustling activity she remembered was gone, and although it had been a hard city in her time it had had its fair share of revellers and rowdies. Now everything was business as usual, but just business as usual. No drunks singing to missed wives and mistresses, no jugglers and singers, no puppet shows or circus acts.
Kadburn knocked on her door and entered.
‘How did you go?’ she asked.
‘Not well,’ he said, sounding tired. ‘The steam carriage doesn’t run as regularly as it used to, and when it does it’s carrying special cargo for the capital. Not much room for paying passengers, apparently; only one carriage is set aside for them, and it’s expensive.’
Galys was disappointed but not surprised. It would tie in with the general malaise the city seemed to be suffering from, like an old oak tree that had died but not realised it yet. ‘We can hire horses,’ she said.
‘Or try to get on the steam carriage further up the line, after it’s dropped off some of its cargo.’
‘That’s a point. Learn anything else?’
‘People aren’t being that communicative with strangers, especially strangers from the capital. I must have Omeralt stamped all over my face, because all I get is “yes”, “no” or “bugger off”.’
Galys grinned at him. ‘Have to say, if I saw you for the first time with all those scars and everything, I’d tell you to bugger off too.’
Kadburn snorted. ‘It’s more than that, Galys. I reckon you’d do no better down there. Something’s scared them good and proper, and they don’t trust anyone they don’t know, especially if they come from the capital.’
‘Spies?’
‘Can’t say, but it’s hard to know what else would give everyone such a bad case of the jitters.’
*
The land came first, not the end of the storms, and as soon as they found a protected bay the fleet dropped anchor, huddled together like seagulls on a high rock. The sea still had a roll in it, however, and although the surviving ships were now safe, the prince leading them still found it impossible to keep food down and dignity maintained. Nonetheless, Rodin had charts and maps spread out around his room, including his cot, and was measuring and calculating with a compass and pointers when Captain Ainchell made an appearance.
‘The winds are easing, your Highness, and the rain has stopped. Another day or two and we can resume our journey. I’m not sure how far south of Kydan we are, but it can’t be too far.’
‘Four days if we’re not beating into the wind,’ Rodin said, tapping one of the maps. ‘We’re anchored off a point called “The Beard” according to this, or “Dikthion” according to another. Either way, measurements come out the same.’
‘You’ve been busy,’ Ainchell said, not entirely with approval. He looked around the cabin the way a parent might the room of a messy child.
‘What are our losses?’
‘Five ships, your Highness, including the transport that turned back before the weather got really foul. Three transports all up, and two of our larger warships not much smaller than Star of Ember.’
‘How many men?’
Ainchell shrugged with his mouth. ‘Three thousand, thereabouts. More than enough left to storm Kydan.’
‘We’re not storming Kydan, Captain. At least, not straightaway.’
‘Really, your Highness? I thought our orders were to bring the rebel city under heel as soon as possible.’
‘Which we will do, Captain, but without the risk of losing everything in the first assault, our fleet included.’
‘And you suggest instead?’
Rodin looked around him, found the chart he was looking for and drew it before him. ‘This is one of the charts sent to me from Beferen after the empress conquered Rivald.’ He moved the chart so Ainchell could see it as well, but the captain did not deign to look. Rodin sniffed. ‘It shows the coastline south of here, towards Sayenna.’
‘Sayenna? Our orders, your Highness, are –’
‘Yes, I know, to take Kydan. We’ve gone over that already. But Sayenna is a proper city, firmly on the land, with a wide harbour offering plenty of landing sites. By all accounts it’s smaller than Kydan, considerably smaller, so will offer less resistance to an assault from the sea.’
Ainchell’s eyes flickered towards the chart.
‘And Sayenna is also further away from the monsoons, and the prevailing winds will carry us there. And the enemy, should they be expecting an invasion, won’t be expecting it to hit this far south. Once Sayenna is taken, we have a secure base in the New Land from which to operate. Then we attack Kydan by land from the east, and by sea from the west.’
‘I recall that was tried once before,’ Ainchell said. ‘Something I covered in Strategos Reed’s reports, I think. That attack was led by a Kevleren, too.’
‘By barge and militia. We’re going to attack with a proper army and a proper fleet.’
‘I see,’ Ainchell said neutrally, and Rodin could not tell if the captain really saw anything at all.
‘Captain, I don’t think my cousin will want either of us back in the old world if we don’t take Kydan, and rushing in by sea without preparation, and without any attempt at discovering why previous efforts have failed, especially previous efforts carried out by officers of her majesty’s navy, is inviting disaster.’ He thrust the chart towards Ainchell. ‘When the weather has cleared, set a course for Sayenna, and signal our intentions to the rest of the fleet.’
*
After paying for their accommodation at the Somah Arms, Galys and Kadburn found an alley and carefully counted their money.
‘I thought we had more than this,’ Galys said.
‘Things are more expensive than in our day. As it is, we’ve got every Hamilayan coin we could lay our hands on in Kydan.’
‘If prices in Somah are anything to go by, it’s not going to get us very far.’
‘Do you have friends in the city we might borrow money from?’
‘An engineer and a physic, old friends from university.’
‘Couldn’t you have made some rich friends?’ Kadburn said.
‘You should talk.’
‘My friend was rich. He was a prince, remember?’
‘Anyway, things here are so strange I don’t know that any old friend can be trusted. We just have to make do with what we have, and get to Omeralt as quickly as we can.’
‘Before we starve to death, you mean.’
Galys jingled the coins in her hand. ‘There is not enough here to buy two horses, and we can’t use the steam carriage.’
‘Actually,’ Kadburn said, ‘we can’t pay to get on the steam carriage. There’s no reason we can’t still use it.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
Kadburn shook his head. ‘I cannot believe anyone in this world is as honest as you.’
They stopped talking when a tall, angular man with red hair entered the alley and walked towards them. It was just possible, Kadburn thought, that someone might be using this alley to get through to the next street, but why was he not even registering their presence, pretending he could not see them at all? Even as he had the thought, another man, not much shorter than the first but as bald as a plate, entered the alley from the other direction; he too seemed more interested in brickwork and sky than in the people in front of him. Kadburn tapped the hilt of Galys’s dagger to warn her.