by Martin Ash
‘You’ve not been ill-treated?’
‘No, sir.’
‘I am glad to see you again.’
‘Where do you go, Master Cormer?’
‘I am not entirely sure. I wished to clarify my status. I thought I might be confined to my chamber, but that appears not to be
the case.’
‘Master Cormer, this is a strange place. There is madness here.’
‘Aye, you are right. But why do you say that?’
‘Remember yesterday, when we rode into Dhaout? The dogs?’
‘The hanging corpses? I do.’
‘Well, later we - Ilian and I - walked a little way outside the palace. We passed people standing beneath trees. One man or woman or child beneath each tree that we passed. They appeared to be doing nothing, but after a while, when we had seen so many, I asked one why she was there. She told me it was to gather any leaves that fell. Feikermun has ordered that no leaf must lie upon the ground, upon pain of death to his citizens. He believes that his enemies, seeing leaves upon the ground, will take it as a sign of slackness and inefficiency. They will think him weak and distracted, and will attack in force to overthrow him. Hence every tree in Feikermun’s quarter of the city must have someone beneath it to pick up any leaf that drops from its branches. The task is tedious, especially at this time of year when few leaves fall. Yet foot patrols pass frequently to ensure that his will is adhered to.’
I nodded. I remembered the inexpectant faces the previous day, gazing from the shade of trees as we rode towards the palace. ‘It does not surprise me. Nothing does, anymore.’
Later in the morning I left Feikermun’s palace with Jaktem and went into the town. We made our way at a leisurely pace along half-deserted streets, past hanging dogs and doleful tree-attendants, until we reached the central square where Culmet’s Bazaar was situated. It was here, I recalled, that Inbuel m’ Anakastii had met and spoken with the man he had taken to be me. I was no closer to solving that mystery nor, I realized, had I learned anything about the enigmatic note delivered to me from the unknown Sermilio.
A good number of traders, peddlers and merchants were setting up booths and stalls and opening their shops, though not as many as on previous occasions I had been here. I saw several faces I recognized, but no one, of course, recognized me The atmosphere of the marketplace was somewhat subdued The citizens appeared cowed and anxious, and there were soldiers present in some number - that is, if one could properly term Feikermun’s beasts ‘soldiers’. They fought for him, it was true, and did his bidding with relish and gusto. But they were thugs with little or no formal military training; murderous bullies who lived for blood and took pleasure in the suffering they could inflict.
Above the buildings to our northeast, smoke could still he seen rising into the blue sky. I thought it seemed less than on the previous day, but whether that was due to the fires having been fought down or the smoke’s being dispersed by the morning’s fresh breeze I could not tell.
In an inn beside the square we met Ilian. I ordered breakfast for the three of us and Ilian told us of his intelligence-gathering activities. For the most part he had been endeavouring to learn more about the fighting at the border between Feikermun’s domain and that of Malibeth. His understanding was that Malibeth’s fighters had broken through Feikermun’s lines to reclaim an area of disputed territory consisting of two or three streets and their surrounding buildings. Unbeknown to Malibeth, Feikermun’s men had permitted her troops to advance into this area and had then moved in from two directions to cut off their retreat. Thirty or forty of Malibeth’s men had found themselves trapped. With the first light Feikermun’s beasts, led by Feikermun himself, had swarmed into the area. The battle was fierce and bloody, and still raging when Ilian had withdrawn in order to rendezvous at the inn with Jaktem. But in Ilian’s mind there was little doubt of the outcome.
‘They are fighting house-to-house, and it’s a hazardous business. But Malibeth’s men are divided into small isolated pockets. Feikermun is cutting them off one by one, then moving in hard from all directions for the slaughter. His tactic is to set the buildings ablaze where they hide and force them out. He has taken few losses, but the corpses of his enemies have been laid out in the road for all to see. It will soon be over, I think.’
‘Is he taking prisoners?’
‘I saw no evidence of that. Any who tried to surrender - and there were not many from what I could see - were hacked down on the spot.’
His account accorded with what I had gathered from the meeting in Feikermun’s chamber during the night.
‘Have you learned anything else?’
‘Little of value. The stalemate appears to endure between Malibeth and Feikermun. If anything, Feikermun has slightly gained the upper hand. But something seems to be brewing. Those I spoke to are convinced that Feikermun is on the verge of a breakthrough.’
‘In what form?’
‘It’s hard to be precise. People are too afraid or to ignorant to say much, but I’ve heard it said by more than one person that Feikermun is about to become a god.’
I sat back, pushing aside the plate, which I had cleaned of bacon and bread. ‘By what means is he to achieve this apotheosis?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do either of you know of a place called the Citadel?’
Both men shook their heads.
‘Could it be Malibeth’s fortress?’ I wondered.
‘Malibeth has no fortress, no permanent headquarters,’ said Ilian. ‘For security she stays on the move, using a number of houses in her quarter.’
‘The Golden Lamb, then?’
‘The Golden Lamb bases himself in a well-fortified barracks near the western edge of town. I’ve not heard it referred to by that name.’
‘Is this Citadel in Dhaout, Master Cormer?’ enquired Jaktem.
‘I’d assumed so, but perhaps I was wrong.’ I supped thoughtfully at my ale. ‘What can you tell me of the Golden Lamb?’
The two men exchanged brief glances. Ilian said, ‘Very little. He’s securely ensconced in the Waterstrike district in the west, and his domain borders both Feikermun’s and Malibeth’s. Since initially establishing himself there he seems to have taken part in little offensive activity but has strengthened his defences to guard against incursions by either of the other two. His strategy, it would appear, is to wait, perhaps in the hope that Feikermun and Malibeth will weaken one another sufficiently for him to move against them.’
‘Not a very sound strategy if it’s true that Feikermun is on the verge of achieving godliness.’
Ilian frowned and nodded to himself.
‘You know nothing of the Golden Lamb’s identity, or where he has come from?’
‘He keeps himself shrouded in mystery. I’ve been told he wears a mask or veil at all times. He commands disciplined troops in good number, and his area of the city is the least troubled. He maintains order, but through the implementation of discipline and law rather than terror.’
I finished my drink. ‘I’d like to visit the area of contact in Stonemarker. Can you take me there?’
‘Aye. I know of a good vantage point from which you can view almost the entire scene of battle. If Malibeth’s troops have not yet been conquered you can observe Feikermun’s methods for yourself.’
As we were leaving the inn I heard shouting and cheering. A crowd was gathering beside the street at one side of the square. Curious, I pushed my way through the press of bodies to try and see what had drawn them. I arrived to find soldiers cordoning off the street, and a moment later several figures on horseback rode into view.
First came a squad of six men-at-arms, ensuring the way was clear. The next rider was Feikermun of Selph. He was mounted on a dappled-grey stallion, and sat straight in the saddle, his head held high. He wore a ferocious grin on his face and his eyes blazed with triumph. Devoid of body art now, he was garbed in shining blood-red armour. In one hand he held aloft a sword. Skewered on its tip
was the head of a man, blood dripping from the ragged tatters of flesh and gristle which hung from its crudely severed neck.
Behind Feikermun came his one-eyed general, Hircun, and another officer. They too held swords high, displaying the same grisly trophies, and behind them marched Feikermun’s beasts, a column of about forty in four ranks. The first thirty or so bore pikes, upon each of which was mounted a human head. The remaining men carried items of armour, weapons, clothing, and in some cases the severed hands of their slain enemies. They whooped and sang as they marched, shaking the trophies at the crowds.
The people cheered as Feikermun pranced past, but I noticed that the loudest cheers were prompted by the soldiers lining the route, who roughly poked and prodded the townsfolk with the butts of their pikes to encourage the desired response. As the gruesome cavalcade passed by I turned and walked back into the square. ‘Plainly you were right,’ I said to Ilian. ‘The day belongs to Feikermun.'
We made our way into neaby Stonemarker and the scene of the battle which Feikermen had just left. The smoke thickened in the air as we drew closer. A number of fires belched smoke skywards, which was borne off to the east by the breeze. Ilian stopped at a long two-storey building which had a low wooden tower projecting from the roof at one end. At his knock a man appeared from within. They spoke briefly in low tones and I saw Ilian slip the man a coin. We were admitted. The man, having closed the door behind us, made off into the depths of the building.
Ilian led us through an empty storage area to where a flight of wooden stairs led up into the tower.
‘It was from here that I witnessed the battle this morning,’ he said as we climbed to a small room at the top of the tower. Narrow windows gave views in four directions over Dhaout. The north-facing window looked out onto the killing ground. Ilian pointed out the area where the battle had been fought. ‘That street there, beyond the junction, and two others on either side of it. You can still see what’s left of the bodies of Malibeth’s men.’
There were a number of burned-out buildings in the area he indicated. Two still burned, smoke and flame belching into the sky. In the middle of the road decapitated corpses had been laid out in neat rows. Several dogs hung from makeshift gibbets or the eaves of buildings, and here and there forlorn, isolated figures were to be seen standing idly beneath trees. The scene was macabre and bizarre.
Further away I could see barricades erected at the ends of streets. They were constructed of wood and stones, items of furniture such as tables, chairs, pallets, bedsteads - presumably brought from the surrounding buildings - and barrels, boards, upturned carts, uprooted fencing, sacks of sand or earth... anything, in fact, all piled willy-nilly on top of one another. Feikermun’s troops were much in evidence, either behind the barricades or glimpsed at windows inside the buildings or moving to and fro in the streets.
‘Beyond is Malibeth’s domain,’ murmured Ilian.
‘And the Golden Lamb?’
‘On the other side.’ Ilian crossed to a window in the western wall and gestured with a hand into the distance. ‘His border meets Feikermun’s over there, in a line extending roughly from the third tower on the city wall to that belt of trees in the centre. Further north it touches upon Malibeth’s border.’
There was not much to see. I don’t know what I had expected, but I felt father flat. ‘Is there open conflict between Malibeth and the Golden Lamb?’
‘From what I know there was fighting when the Golden Lamb first moved in. Since then things have been strained but quieter. Certainly the major conflict appears to be between Malibeth and Feikermun.’
‘But both must be highly wary of this powerful interloper.’
‘I would guess that Malibeth and Feikermun have set their spymasters to work to learn what they can about him.’
I turned away from the window. Something caught my eye overhead. I looked up. A strange figure was squatting upon one of the crossbeams in the room of the tower, observing me. I stared hard, my heart giving a sudden lurch, and even as I did so the thing vanished.
I looked at Ilian and Jaktem, whose faces were both upturned, following the direction of my gaze.
‘Is something wrong, Master Cormer?’ enquired Jaktem.
‘Did you see anything?’
He looked at me blankly and shook his head.
‘Ilian?’
‘No.’
I glanced up again. There was nothing there. I started for the stairs. In my mind I still beheld the figure hunched upon the beam. I had glimpsed it for just a moment, but I was convinced it was virtually identical to the pale creature that had hauled me from the marsh at Guling Mire.
‘Come,’ I said to the two men. ‘I’ve seen all I want. I’ve much to do.’
Eleven
Yes, i had much to do, but I didn’t know what. I had established beyond any reasonable doubt that Feikermun was on the verge of power, but I still did not know what form it took, nor where it came from. Nor did I know how I might discover these things. The answers would, if all indications were to be believed, be apparent soon enough, but by then, with this power in his hands, Feikermun would surely be unstoppable.
I had no way of spying on Feikermun other than by staying as close to him as possible in the remaining time I had. That in itself was problematic. He was well-protected and erratic, as well as dangerously deluded, and I had no connections here - at least, not as Linias Cormer. Ronbas Dinbig had contacts in Dhaout, though they were not close to Feikermun and, anyway, as far as they were concerned, Dinbig had perished weeks ago at Feikermun’s hands. It would be inadvisable to approach them now; a stranger asking about Dinbig, Feikermun or anything else would be bound to arouse suspicion.
The desperate idea came that I should summon Yo, pass my flesh into his custody and, disembodied, observe Feikermun. But I might follow him for hours without learning anything useful, and all the time I would be risking detection. If Feikermun found me out... I shuddered and dismissed the idea.
It did not help that I lacked precise instructions from the Hierarchy. Did they wish me to assassinate Feikermun? Not feasible if I planned to live beyond the event. Was I supposed to sacrifice myself for the greater good? I was not hugely enamoured of the concept.
And what was the greater good? How could it be determined? Removing Feikermun could well destabilize the region further, passing control into the hands of Malibeth and the Golden Lamb. Both were unknown quantities, particularly the latter.
Then there was Wirm. I needed to discover the extent of his influence and, equally importantly, the source and means by which he was procuring gidsha.
And still there remained the matter of my double. Even given his execution by Feikermun, I remained deeply curious to know who he was, what his designs had been, and how he had effected such a perfect disguise. Had my reputation or business suffered through his actions? Did his demise mark the end of the matter?
We were making our way back from the battle scene in Stonemarker when a sudden thought stopped me dead in my tracks.
‘Master Cormer?’
Jaktem and Ilian were looking enquiringly at me. I apologized - ‘A moment’s distraction’ - and we moved on. But I was far from easy in my mind. What had struck me was the idea that my double might somehow actually have discovered the identities of my contacts in Dhaout. He could have spoken to them, gained information, struck deals that would redound to my disadvantage... anything. It seemed far-fetched — there was no way he could have known about them — but the idea, once sprung in my mind, would not be dislodged. I felt impelled to make further urgent enquiries, no matter the risk.
And more: What of the Citadel? What of the ghostly woman who had appeared to me, and the pale creature or creatures who likewise seemed able to manifest and vanish at will? I was in danger of being overwhelmed by it all. Every step I took led me deeper into a morass of the inexplicable.
We were on a fairly busy central street approaching Culmet’s Bazaar. I turned to address my two companions. �
�I have business I must attend to. Meet me back at our chambers at three hours this afternoon.’
‘But, Master Cormer, won’t you need us? You’ll be unprotected,’ Jaktem protested.
‘Just do as I say. Find out anything more you can about the situation here.’
As I turned to leave there was a loud shriek ahead of me. Fifteen paces away the air seemed to shimmer and crackle. People fell back in alarm. An indistinct shape began to materialize out of nowhere.
Quite suddenly something was standing there. A tall, beast-like living thing, larger than a man. It had long, ropily muscled legs and arms, with curling talons on its hands and feet. Its body was covered in sparse brown hair. Its head was broad, with pointed ears, a long tapering snout and two rows of savage, uneven teeth. A slender tail, longer than the body, lashed back and forth upon the ground. There was something rat-like about the creature as it half-crouched, darting a malevolent gaze about it as if in indecision.