by Matthew Ward
When we crested the next rise, Tressia lay before us.
It was strange how circumstance altered perception. A few weeks ago, the city had felt like home. Now it felt like exactly what it was – the stronghold of a foreign nation with whom my people were at war.
Elspeth and I finally rejoined the road, her with Morecet's cloak tight around her, me with my hood pulled low to hide my pale skin. Only now did I realise how weary Elspeth appeared. Selfishly, I hadn't considered the cost of indulging my curiosity. When I enquired after her, she brushed my concern aside. She was pleased with herself, I think.
Here at last we found traffic – all the merchants, farmers and travellers who had been absent from the embattled southlands out in force as they carried wares and news between the capital and the outlying settlements. It was enough of a crowd in which to hide, but it wasn't without its dangers. Praetorians moved through the mass of citizens, their eyes presumably alert for suspicious activity. Even if my uncle hadn't sent spies to Tressia yet, it would certainly have been expected of him. Sadly, Elspeth and I fell firmly into this category. My hopes of mingling with the crowds to slip behind the walls were quickly dashed when it became apparent that anyone actually wanting to pass into the city needed a warrant to do so. From the sour-faced merchants waiting at the East Gate, this was a new stricture, and one which had not yet reached all corners of the Republic, but that was of little comfort to me.
I'd never seen such a guard on the East Gate. There were at least thirty soldiers in view, and there'd be more close at hand. The South Gate would be the same, or so I assumed. I grabbed Elspeth's arm and followed the road north.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly. "There isn't another gate in this direction."
"I know there isn't, but we're not getting in through a gate – at least not a conventional one."
"I'm not going to approve of this idea, am I?" Elspeth hissed.
"I doubt it," I replied. "I don't like it, so why should you?"
Then I told her all about it. I'd been correct. She didn't like it much at all.
Seven
With a supreme effort, I hauled myself out of the Silverway River, onto the paved towpath and staggered into the sewer tunnel. There, out of sight of the good citizens of Tressia, I retched up what felt like half of the river.
Goodness, but that had been vile. Stringy green slime clung to my arms and legs, there was a terrible taste in my mouth and I was, of course, sopping wet; every stitch of my clothing was water-logged. I wished, not for the first time, that I could have simply concealed myself aboard a barge, as Kai Saran had once done.
Indeed, that had been how my ancestor had entered the city, he and a warband of his finest fighters. Tressia's walls had always been a daunting obstacle, and many Hadari armies had ground themselves to nothing upon them. Kai Saran had sought to do things differently. Once within the city, he and his men had taken the East Gate and held it long enough for the main army to reinforce them. It had been an audacious plan, and one that had almost worked. If not for the exceptional valour of Josiri Trelan and Viktor Droshna that day, it would have worked.
Barges still arrived via the Silverway, and I daresay I could have concealed myself thus if I'd had the time to do so. Unfortunately, I was increasingly of the opinion that I couldn't afford to delay, and so had decided on this unpleasant route. I'd slipped into the water a little way upstream from the city walls, unnoticed by any save Elspeth, and half-walked, half-swum along the river bed. No living man could have done it, but the fallen that I'd become didn't need to breathe any longer.
By and by, Elspeth emerged at the tunnel mouth. I'd been far from certain she'd have been able to sneak past the gates – even in cat form – let alone find her way up to Arianwyn's house. It seemed she'd managed both. In Tressia, as in Skyhaven, a cat could go anywhere. Not that she was a cat now. Rather, she was clad in one of Arianwyn's long, hooded cloaks – Morecet's having been abandoned outside the walls – and in her arms was a cloth.
"You look absolutely vile," she opined. "And the smell isn't... Well, it's remarkable."
"At least for you it is only a smell. I can still taste it. Did you have any problems?"
"I was nearly trampled by a nobleman's horse outside the Cathedral, if that's what you mean," she said disgustedly. "Otherwise, no."
"See? I told you it would work."
She sighed. "Yes. You're much less conspicuous as the slime monster from the Silverway than you ever were beforehand."
"That's why I asked you to retrieve some clothes," I said patiently. "I assume you found some."
"I did," Elspeth allowed, placing the bundle on a dry ledge next to me. "You were right. There was plenty to choose from. I just hope I brought the correct items – mortal attire is so terribly tedious."
I threw a pointed look at her white dress, the hem of which trailed in filth, yet still somehow managed to stay immaculately clean. "Well, we can't all have a goddess' wardrobe to call upon."
"Envy does not become you." She sniffed, then shot me an impatient look. "What are you waiting for?"
"A little privacy."
She sighed. "Mortals. Very well, give me the sword."
Mutely, I unbuckled my belt and handed it over to her. There'd been no way Elspeth could have brought the sword into the city with her, and so she had reluctantly agreed I should have it back for a time. I reflected that if I hadn't experienced one of the peculiar rages whilst submerged in the vileness of the Silverway, I wasn't likely to find anything in the city to rile me so, but I supposed it wasn't worth taking the risk.
"Now, please turn around."
Elspeth rolled her eyes, but did as requested. Working as quickly as I could without risking my balance, I stripped off my ruined clothes and donned those that Elspeth had brought. Within moments, my pale skin – and its livid black scars from the fight at Valna – were covered by a white shirt, blue trews, black waistcoat and a hooded black cloak. The ensemble was a little on the large size, apart from the boots, which were ever so slightly too small. Nevertheless, it was close enough to current Tressian style that I wouldn't draw too many peculiar glances. It was fortunate also that the worst of the smell departed with my old clothes.
I tapped Elspeth on the shoulder. "I assume Arianwyn wasn't home?"
"Not so I saw."
"And no Zorya?" It was a slim chance, but I had to ask.
"You don't think I'd have mentioned it?" Elspeth asked querulously. "I don't think anyone has been in that house for days."
*******
A long and frustrating walk across the city later, we were standing across the street from the Hadari embassy – my embassy. Once again, I felt the familiar pangs of frustration. The entire building was boarded up and presumably abandoned. Two weeks. That's all it had taken for the Tressians to cast aside any pretence at wanting a peaceful settlement. Why else would they have ejected my staff from the building? I could have screamed with the sheer annoyance of it all, had it not been a guarantee of attracting unwanted attention.
For the first time in the better part of a day, I felt the dark whispers rise in the back of my mind, and I was glad Elspeth had my sword. There was no point in lingering, so we walked on through the crowds until we reached an empty alleyway where we could talk without fear of being overheard.
"What did you hope to find?" Elspeth asked.
"Mostly, a place to operate from," I said, one eye on the end of the alley. "I could have relied on the embassy staff. Unfortunately, it seems the Tressians have sent them home."
Or worse, I added in the privacy of my own thoughts.
"Or your uncle has withdrawn them," Elspeth suggested calmly. "Not that it matters." I made no reply. "You're giving up then?" she went on scornfully. "That's what mortals do, isn't it?"
"I'm not giving up," I told her through gritted teeth. "I'm thinking."
She rolled her eyes. "You've had plenty of time to do that."
"You're not helping."
Nierev. Nierev was my best hope now. How to reach her? Even if I could get inside the guardhouse without someone penetrating my fairly dreadful disguise, there was no guarantee the captain would be there. Where did Nierev live? I knew she'd once had a dwelling somewhere in New Town, but I'd no idea where.
"Edric..." Elspeth nodded over my shoulder.
"What is it?" I turned. Two brawny constables advanced along the alleyway, their pace that of hunters who didn't wish to alert their prey.
"We seem to have attracted attention," Elspeth muttered. "Run?"
I shook my head. We'd lingered too long outside the embassy. A clumsy mistake, and one that left us in an awkward position. We could probably outpace this pair, if needed, but once the inevitable hue and cry arose we'd have little chance of hiding. On the other hand, fight was as likely to draw attention as flight, so what was to be done?
Surprise was our only ally. The constables had their suspicions but no proof, else they'd have already summoned help. I led Elspeth deeper into the alley and around a corner at as nonchalant a pace as I could manage.
"If I take one of them, can you manage the other?" I asked quietly.
"Naturally."
"I don't want them hurt, if possible."
She snorted. "See that you remember that."
A pile of crates lay stacked against the alley wall a little way ahead, and I moved quickly towards it. As a hiding place, it was second-rate, but I supposed it might buy a second or two of surprise. Elspeth shot me a scathing look, shrugged off her cloak and handed both it and the sword belt to me.
"Keep your hands off the weapon." With a whisper of movement she was a cat again, trotting unconcernedly back along the alleyway.
I placed the cloak and sword behind me, and ducked back into concealment. The constables rounded the corner. I heard their footsteps pick up speed as they realised that they'd lost track of their quarry.
The sounds drew near to the far side of my hiding place. Would they continue on, giving me the opportunity to attack before I was noticed? Or would they be practical enough to check behind the crates?
Unfortunately, it was the latter.
"What do we have here?" The larger of the two men reached down for me.
Suddenly Elspeth was behind the constables, her light brilliant in the dark alley. Taken off guard, both constables spun to face her, then froze as she placed a palm on each forehead. At once, the constables' shoulders slumped and their heads fell forward. The man nearest continued to topple, and would have hit the floor had I not caught him.
"Your magic really is coming back, isn't it?"
Elspeth grimaced. "After a fashion; it shouldn't take physical contact, and I can't keep them that way for long. Weren't you supposed handle one by yourself?"
I laid my unconscious burden on the cobbles. "Are they dreaming?"
"Fitfully, and only for a short while." She poked the standing constable in his chest, and smiled as the man rocked back and forth on his heels.
I passed her the cloak and sword. "It's a shame that Nierev wasn't one of them. It would save me the trouble of finding her."
"Why, who is she?"
"She commands the constabulary. Right now, she's our best chance of finding Zorya."
Elspeth pointed at the constable. "And would this one know where she can be found?"
"Quite possibly."
Elspeth thought for a moment, then came to a decision. "Well, let's find out, shall we?" She steadied the constable's sway and leaned in close. "Tell me, where can I find Captain Nierev?" she whispered.
The constable's response was immediate. "When last I saw her, she was in her office." He spoke quietly, his eyes still closed. I wondered who he thought was asking the question, or if he even knew anything of what was going on around him.
Elspeth shot me a triumphant look, and beckoned me away.
"Should we leave them like this?" I asked.
"The dreams will fade soon enough. I don't know how much they'll remember. It varies from one to another."
She wasn't wrong about the dreams fading. Already the prone constable's eyelids were fluttering. On sudden whim, I retrieved a leather bound notebook and a pencil, the end of which had been heavily chewed upon in idle thought, from his greatcoat. Then, stepping over the slumbering form, Elspeth and I hurried out of the alleyway.
"That was an impressive trick."
She shrugged. "Mortals are incredibly biddable whilst dreaming. How else do you think mother recruits her prophets?"
How else indeed? I was grateful I hadn't slept since Elspeth had joined me. The idea that she could meddle with thoughts was an uncomfortable one, regardless of how useful it had just proven.
At least we now knew Nierev's location. The only problem was how to reach her. Had it been dark, I'd have climbed the drainpipe at the back of the guardhouse and break into her office from there. Alas, in daylight I'd be an obvious silhouette against a bright sky. It would only take a single curious pair of eyes, and I'd be in a great deal of trouble. On the other hand, there might be a way of bringing Nierev to us.
"Are dreamers sufficiently biddable that they'll follow your instructions even after they awaken?" I asked Elspeth.
She scowled. "Mother would not approve."
"But it can be done?"
Elspeth considered. "It can, but I can't, not now. If it was night, and the moon high above, perhaps."
It would have to be the hard way. I led Elspeth past the guardhouse, round the next corner, and thence into a wide and heavily-dunged alleyway. This was the access to the constabulary stables, and the earthy aroma alone guaranteed us privacy. We followed the alley down past the stables proper – there was no sign of equine life – reached a left hand turn, and paused while I wrote a brief message in my purloined notebook. That achieved, I told Elspeth to wait – a command she grudgingly obeyed – and headed round the corner.
The courtyard was just as I remembered it: a short stairway alongside a swift-flowing stream, and pitiful collection of dead and dying plants in the centre. The door that served as the guardhouse's rear entrance was let into a wall on the left hand side. When I'd come this way before, that door had been guarded by a single inept, and slightly inebriated, constable. This time, it lay under the steady watch of two entirely sober individuals – one a woman of about my age, the other a man some years older. There was to be no tricking my way past, but such was not my plan.
"Who goes?" The woman called out the challenge before I'd reached the top step. "This area is forbidden save to the constabulary."
"I know," I said, for once taking pains to disguise my harsh Hadari accent. "I've information for Captain Nierev." I held a folded piece of paper high, between two fingers. I kept my other hand at the same level, the better to convince the constables I wasn't a threat.
"Why not bring it to the front?" There was caution in the man's voice, but little hostility.
"I cannot help the captain if others see my face. Take this message to her, that's all I ask."
The constables exchanged glances. "Hand it over," the woman said. "I'll see it's delivered."
I walked slowly down the stairs, hands held high, and passed the note into the woman's outstretched hand. "It's urgent."
"I'm sure it is," she replied, clearly enjoying her moment of superiority. She held onto the note, clearly tempted to read it for herself, then thought better of it and banged on the door. "Davoth?"
The door opened and a young constable appeared, his eyes tracking me apprehensively as he greeted the woman.
"Information for the captain. Make sure that she sees it."
The lad vanished inside, and I was left beneath the unfavourable gazes of the two guards. They didn't like the situation a great deal, that much was obvious. Would their dislike manifest as interference?
At last, the door opened, admitting Nierev to the courtyard. Her lip twisted as she regarded me, then she turned to address the two constables. "You're dismissed. I'll call if I need you.
"
The guards didn't look terribly pleased to be sent away – the scent of a mystery must have been overwhelming – but they knew better than to argue. The door swung shut behind them.
Nierev looked me up and down. "Edric? That is you, isn't it?"
"You knew?" I asked, abandoning all attempt at concealing my accent.
"A reluctant guest who didn't wander off when unshackled? A little obscure, but I've a good memory." She did at that – it was a reference to our first meeting, and a joke Quintus had made. "Say what you have to say, and quickly. This little conversation is too easy to interpret as treason."
Her voice was more curious than concerned, or at least I thought so.
"It's as bad as that?" I asked.
"Worse," she replied grimly. "The council shut down the embassy – the staff are 'guests' in the palace at the moment – and there's been heavy fighting near Orosk. The war rages as strongly as it ever did. It doesn't help that Councillor Magorian's vanished."
I snorted. "Probably by his own design."
Her green eyes gleamed. "I don't think so. The signs all point to abduction, and the council is blaming your people."
"Why would we want him?"
Nierev hesitated. "There was a rumour going around that you'd been killed, and that Magorian had something to do with it. Under those circumstances, it seemed likely the Emperor might want him very badly."
That wasn't my uncle's way. Calda, on the other hand... "The rumours have reached that far?"
She nodded. "They're everywhere. I'm glad they're not accurate."
I pulled back my hood. No windows overlooked the courtyard, and Nierev deserved to know the truth. "Rumour is correct, I'm afraid."
Nierev put a hand on her sword, and took a half-step back. "If you've come to kill me you've chosen a bold place to make the attempt." Her tone remained genial.