Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1)

by Ward, Matthew

  Three weeks I waited, with never a glimpse of my royal brother. But all the time, whispers of his recent deeds had come to my ears; tales of villages put to the sword for imagined offences, of client kings imprisoned or tortured to death. I remembered thinking back to all the hopeless campaigns I had fought, the slaughter of our warriors in battles whose victory promised no military gain. I thought of Agranor, our father's most trusted warleader, ritually executed a year earlier on the slimmest of pretexts. Still I had not wanted to believe. But then I met with the Empress, and her words – and her wounds – convinced me I could no longer turn a blind eye.

  "Elandra lives," I said at last. "I believe she's happy."

  Alfric smiled sadly. "I'm glad. I repaid her kindnesses poorly. I hated myself the first time. But on each occasion it got easier and easier, and I began to hate her instead."

  I said nothing, not wishing to utter anything that might have been taken as forgiveness.

  "What of the war?"

  "Ended. I made peace after your death. It holds, for now."

  He nodded."I thought you would. And the Empire?"

  "It endures, so far as I know."

  Alfric stared at me. "What do you mean? Do you not rule?"

  "It was decided I'd serve better elsewhere," I said. Alfric might appear much changed from the man I had known, but I wasn't about to share more of myself with him than I had to. "I am our people's voice in Tressia now. Or I was."

  Alfric snorted. "I assume our uncle is emperor?"

  "He is."

  "It should have been you. But then I suppose Eirac would be hard-pressed to be a poorer fit than myself."

  For a moment, I felt sorry for him. "Why the change of heart?"

  "This place brings perspective," he said. "It's like bright sunlight after fog. Or perhaps I'm trying to understand where my life went wrong, so that Ashana will welcome me to the Evermoon, and its silver trees." He shook his head. "I don't know any longer. I'm trapped here in this horrible, empty land. The longer I stay, the less I remember. Sooner or later, I'll be just like the others, shuffling mindlessly along to who knows where. There was just enough of me left to recognise your face. That pulled me back from the edge, but it won't last."

  Did this horrible fate await us all, or was it reserved only for those who had lived as my brother had? "What happens now?"

  Alfric stood and gestured towards the mist-wreathed woods. "Now, I take you back to your companions, if we can find them. After that, I don't know. I'll probably fade away." Without another word, he walked off up the beach, leaving me to follow.

  *******

  My brother and I walked unspeaking through barren woods and dead fields until we came to the banks of a river – presumably the same river into which I'd fallen. This we then followed inland – if indeed that word had any sense in a place such as this.

  "How do you know where to go?" I asked, suddenly suspicious of my brother's motives. It wasn't as if he'd given no cause.

  "This river is Otherworld's mirror of the Silverway," he replied. "It has a rare permanence. I'm hoping we can pick up your friends' trail from where you fell in."

  After a time, we reached a bridge – little more than a wooden roadway laid across stone pilings. A pair of raven-headed statues guarded both approaches. At last I saw other ghosts, moving in endless column from our side to the far bank.

  "Good," Alfric said, satisfied. "We have arrived."

  "Are you sure? This looks completely different."

  "I'm certain. You were always talented, my brother, but I don't think you could have arrived here without help. The woman, perhaps?" I nodded. "When you were separated, your perceptions took over. Or had you not noticed how much the lands we've recently walked resembled those in which we grew up?"

  "So do you see what I see?"

  "I'm dead. I see what is in your mind, what is in her mind, and I see the empty void this place truly is."

  "So how do we find them?"

  "Look further down the road."

  I did as instructed, and saw stone buildings in the middle-distance. Beyond, a great stone wall reached skyward. "We're close enough that Arianwyn's perception of Otherworld is taking over."

  "Is that her name? I didn't know, but you're correct."

  "But why aren't they further ahead? They can't have covered a fraction of the distance you and I have."

  He shook his head. "Time doesn't pass the same for everyone here. Be thankful, and take the gift offered to you."

  We set off at a redoubled pace. With every step the lifeless countryside melted away, replaced by the rubble and decay of Arianwyn's cityscape. Finally, I rounded a corner and saw Arianwyn and Jamar less than a hundred paces in front of me. Of the revenants, there was no sign.

  "Go," Alfric urged.

  I hesitated. "Will you not walk with me a while longer?"

  He shook his head. "I don't think so. I'll go my own way."

  How much longer would he last? How long before he faded entirely? "Goodbye, Alfric. I wish you could have discovered in life whatever enlightenment you found here. Things might have been very different."

  My brother smiled briefly and pulled up his hood. "Go."

  I ran through the ghostly throng, not wanting to lose my companions again I was so close.

  Arianwyn spun round, a look of amazed relief on her face. "Edric! We thought we'd lost you!"

  Maybe I'd rate a hug this time, I thought inconsequentially.

  Jamar greeted me with a broad grin and a shallow bow.

  Arianwyn went one better and embraced me with bruising enthusiasm. "How did you find us?"

  I glanced back up the hill, searching for Alfric. I saw no sign. "I had a guide. Someone I used to know."

  I didn't want to spoil the joyful mood with an explanation about Alfric. Jamar was aware of most of the details already, of course, but I assumed Arianwyn knew nothing.

  "I've never heard of such a thing," she said warily.

  "It definitely happened."

  "Oh, I don't doubt you." She spoke hurriedly, but there was an odd look in her eye all the same.

  "What about you? Last I saw, you had revenants at your heels."

  "They abandoned their pursuit just after you fell," Jamar replied. "The lady thinks they can't cross running water."

  "Really? That's interesting."

  "It's only a guess, based on some dubious legends," Arianwyn pointed out, "but it's the only explanation I can think of."

  Had the revenants been after me? I recalled the strawjack, twice tracking me across the city in an effort to recover the portalstone fragment. But I didn't have the fragment now, Arianwyn did. Perhaps she was right; perhaps the revenants could be thwarted by so simple a method.

  "Please tell me we don't have much further to go."

  Arianwyn pointed to the towering fortress-wall. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tired. "Almost there. We'll be safe soon."

  *******

  We soon stood in the wide concourse lying inside of the city wall. The fortress she'd indicated lay a hundred yards ahead, and I now saw that it was almost identical in design to the one where Solomon had imprisoned me. Yet it was the wall that captured my attention – or rather the gaping breach where it tumbled to ruin a few yards away from where we were standing.

  The breached section was a mess of rubble and broken stones, perhaps twenty paces wide in all. It was half as tall as the wall, yet still a good ten times my own height, making the bank of debris a steep climb for any who wished to attempt it. I couldn't imagine trying. Ghosts flowed over the rubble slope from the far side of the wall, spilling over the rise to join the crowds swarming along the concourse. I'd never seen Otherworld's inhabitants – Alfric excepted – follow anything other than the roadways, and I was about to ask Arianwyn about it, when I saw the bodies.

  The breach was choked with dead, their alien nature to the realm betrayed by the colours of their raiment. Most were clad in Hadari green, but some were in Tressian blue. They la
y on the rubble, eyes open to the black sky, mouths gaping in empty screams and unfinished prayers. I tried to count them, but so thickly were they piled I abandoned the task as impossible.

  Ignoring Arianwyn's restraining hand, I walked to the foot of the breach and knelt in front of a body clad in the golden scales of a Hadari royal guard. "Are they real?"

  "I think... I don't know," said Arianwyn. "I'm sorry. We're told Death loves to torment the living with their fears, and this is one of yours, isn't it?"

  "It must have been a glorious battle," Jamar observed distantly.

  "Perhaps," I said. "But why? Is it the reflection of something that occurred in the living realm whilst we've been trapped here?"

  "I don't think so," Arianwyn said. "To shatter the wall would take a great deal of time. I doubt we've been here long enough."

  "I was told that time passes strangely here. Perhaps we've been here longer than we think."

  "Or maybe it's bait," said Jamar. "Intended to catch our attention whilst a trap closes."

  I suddenly felt very cold. "It might be all those things."

  All at once, the air around us was alive with growls. Dark shapes forged their way through the crowd. Two revenants advanced from the direction we'd come, and another two crested the breach. Their approach was slow, almost painfully so.

  "Quickly," I ordered. "Head for the tower."

  "I'm afraid that won't be possible, savir." said Jamar.

  Looking towards the tower, I saw another pair of dark shapes.

  As one, the revenants drew their swords, the smoke from the blades mingling with the vaporous forms of the ghosts they passed through. Jamar drew his own sword in response.

  Arianwyn glared at him. "I said that weapon won't hurt them."

  "And I listened, savim," Jamar replied respectfully. He plucked a brass-bound shield from the corpse-strewn slope and hefted it thoughtfully, testing its weight and balance. "But your only chance is to break through the group between us and the tower. Move quickly. I don't know how long I can hold them."

  "Jamar..."

  My words were cut off as he roared a challenge, and charged to meet the revenants in our path.

  Smoking blades came around with impressive speed, but Jamar caught one high on his shield and knocked the other aside with his own sword – the revenants' weapons, at least, could be thwarted. Not so their flesh, alas. Jamar made one exploratory strike at his rightmost attacker, but the blade passed its body without leaving so much as a mark. The others quickened their pace.

  "Come on." I shoved Arianwyn in the direction of the tower and she broke into a run.

  Jamar circled around the revenants, to stand as a bulwark between us and our pursuers.

  A second pair of revenants joined the fight now. Jamar didn't seem to care. He fought with a skill I knew I'd never possess, his sword and shield moving to block every strike with seamless grace.

  Then, when I was just a few steps past him, a dull crack split the air. Jamar's shield had split. He hurled the remains at the closest revenant, but the pieces passed straight through. He was forced back, desperation creeping into his parries.

  The next blow pierced Jamar's guard. Blood flowed from a gash on his forearm. The revenants' blade-work was as nothing compared to his, but four-to-one odds – soon to be six-to-one – were more than even Jamar could overcome. I was certain he knew this, and meant to sacrifice himself so that we could escape. But as the last two revenants moved to join the unequal battle, I came to a decision. I slowed, stopped, and then ran back.

  Arianwyn called out. I ignored her. I was tired of others getting injured or killed because I hadn't taken the right action, or had taken it too late. We were all leaving, or none of us were.

  I reached Jamar at the same time as the last pair of revenants. I grabbed the collar of his tunic and hauled him backwards. Two swords hissed through the air where he'd been standing.

  "You were supposed to run," Jamar protested.

  "I'm royalty." I spoke with a bravado I didn't feel. "We're too stupid to do anything sensible, and we don't follow orders."

  The revenants surged forward. I drew my sword. As the blade cleared the scabbard, it burst into a brilliant white flame.

  Jamar gasped, and I stared in amazement. The revenants checked their advance, then came on again. Recovering my composure, I parried a downward cut, then, acting on an instinct I couldn't fully explain, lunged at my attacker.

  The result was everything I could have wished for. As the blade pierced the revenant's chest, the creature let out an agonised howl, and little wonder, for the white fire instantly set light to its ghostly body. Robes, flesh and even the sword blazed brilliant and brief. Then the revenant was gone, leaving only ash behind.

  I expected the others to flee at that point, but still they came on. Jamar blocked a stroke aimed at my neck. I back-cut at my attacker and the white flame consumed it.

  The survivors moved to flank us, perhaps thinking to trap and overwhelm us. Jamar cried out as a blade sliced into his arm, but the attacker's strike had left his defences open. It too burst into flames as I hacked at its spectral neck. At that, the surviving revenants finally withdrew. They didn't flee, but walked slowly backwards into the crowd.

  "They'll be back." Jamar winced in pain, and clapped a hand to his wounded shoulder.

  "And we'll be gone," I said, trembling with a mix of pride and battle's aftermath. Sheathing my sword, I called to Arianwyn. Together, we half-led, half-carried Jamar towards the tower.

  Fourteen

  Arianwyn led us straight to the central keep. The fortress was in poor condition, with gaping bastions and shattered turrets. I didn't know whether the keep fared better in the living realm, but I'd have rather defended a well-built house.

  I took Jamar's weight while Arianwyn set about opening a portal beside the main gate. His bleeding had slowed. Assuming the revenants' blades weren't poisoned, he'd recover.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Jamar shifted slightly and then pushed me away. "My thanks, savir, but I can still walk. I merely needed a moment or two to catch my breath."

  He scabbarded his sword, which had hung loosely from his hand. Then, leaning against the wall of the keep, he slid slowly into a sitting position. I moved to help, but he waved me off.

  "Don't worry so much. I've no intention of dying here."

  "It seemed you did, only a few minutes ago."

  "Ah, but that was different. That was for a cause, and in the defence of others." He smiled. "This would be stupidity. And embarrassing. If the lady is to be believed, I'd probably reappear a few feet away. You'd have a fine opportunity to lecture my ghost about its foolishness."

  Arianwyn touched my shoulder. "It's done. We can go."

  I offered Jamar my hand, but he shook his head and slowly clambered to his feet. I made sure that I was the last through the portal – I didn't want to leave anyone behind, not this time.

  From the state of the tower's Otherworld shadow, I'd worried its counterpart in the living realm would be a sanctuary in name only, offering little protection against the elements, let alone whatever forces Quintus or Solomon might marshal against us.

  As it transpired, I needn't have worried. The tower's interior seemed in good repair. Peering through an embrasure into the dawn beyond, I glimpsed an empty courtyard bounded by sturdy walls. The lack of obvious defenders was a troublesome sign, but I decided not to worry about that for now.

  I'd not known whether the tower was Arianwyn's home or merely another temporary base. Either way, I'd expected it to be about as dusty and uninhabited as my now-vanished embassy. This had seemed a reasonable assumption, given the austere nature of the townhouse we'd left. As it transpired, I was flat wrong.

  The circular entrance hall was palatial in both scope and detail, with a broad double-winged staircase of the type present in my late, unlamented residence. Suits of gleaming armour – of a type that had passed out of service many centuries ago – were proudly displayed
around the perimeter, and a glorious crystal chandelier hung from the sculpted plaster ceiling. Lights set into banisters and alcoves lent the chamber a warm and welcoming glow. The burgundy carpets were rich and deep-piled, the tiles and mahogany furniture polished to a brilliant sheen.

  Only one thing seemed out of place. At the foot of the stairs stood a solitary statue, crafted, so far as I could tell, from a pale grey stone. It was hewn in the likeness of a classically beautiful and slender young woman, standing demurely in silent attendance. The face was frozen in a slight but knowing smile, the eyes of a white inlay so pure as to be almost luminescent. The hair was the same colour as the eyes, and ringletted in a manner similar to Arianwyn's. This much was not unusual. I'd seen many such statues during my time in the city – but someone had decorated this one in a long pleated blue skirt, a ruffed white blouse and a tabard bearing the image of a spread-winged phoenix and five, six-pointed, stars.

  I was wondering if the suits of armour concealed other statues – anyone eccentric enough to dress one would likely dress more – when Jamar sank heavily into wooden armchair. Arianwyn frowned at him. Was she was about to echo my recent concerns? It would be interesting to see if she fared any better.

  Clearly changing her mind, Arianwyn closed the portal without a word. With another lingering look in Jamar's direction, she crossed to the foot of the stairs, and addressed the statue. "I'm afraid there's been a change of plan, Zorya. The townhouse is no longer safe. We'll have guests for the foreseeable future."

  To my surprise – although in hindsight I don't suppose much should have surprised me any longer – the statue's head inclined in acknowledgement. [[I understand, Mistress Arianwyn. I shall see that suitable quarters are prepared.]]

  The voice was that of a young woman, neither high nor deep; expressionless, but possessed of a musical quality. Each word was very slightly spaced from the one preceding it; just enough to suggest precision of speech, rather than hesitation or unfamiliarity.