The God Tattoo: Untold Tales from the Twilight Reign

by Lloyd, Tom

  She’d been walking through the library’s corridors just as she had when Miriss surprised her with the hood of his robe down low – except in her dreams they were strangely unfamiliar and threatening. The shadows had lain thick on the ground, sometimes obscuring walls or blocking her path. She’d been forced to turn down corridors that did not exist in the real library, but were interminable in her dreams.

  All the time, Gennay had sensed someone watching her, or something. She heard footsteps echo through the courtyard, but when she opened a set of shutters she saw no one there. In an empty room she had sensed a constant presence, always just behind her shoulder, out of sight but as close as her own shadow.

  After a moment of recollection, Gennay was chased back inside by the cold evening air. Not so biting as the previous day, it was still too chilly outside to be there with only a shawl around her. Back inside, she saw the workmen packing up for the day, also eager to be home before the pale daylight vanished. She ignored their anxious looks as she headed up the stairs, but at the top she realised they were all facing her way. She curtly bade them a good evening and headed for her desk, the look on her face enough to see them out as soon as they’d dropped tools and found their coats.

  Within a minute, Gennay was alone, sat at her desk with her head in her hands. As she stared at the page below she found the words squirming under her gaze and the throb in her head increased until she closed her eyes again.

  ‘Oh I’m so tired. I’m tired and stupid,’ she muttered, vainly massaging at her temple.

  She sighed and stopped, tentatively opening her eyes as though afraid of what she might see. There was nothing there, just a mess on her desk and the cold empty library all around her. The one lit lamp in the room was on her desk and the rest of the hall was becoming increasingly gloomy.

  As she sat there, she felt the shadows intensify and grow threatening. A sudden sense of panic blossomed in her stomach. She glanced around and saw there were no looming grey figures now, just a disquieting emptiness, but that failed to help her spirits.

  ‘Right, I’ll go home before the light’s gone,’ she declared with flimsy resolve. ‘I don’t want to be here after dark and clearly I’ll get nothing achieved in this frame of mind.’

  She covered the fire and carried her lamp downstairs – moving with exaggerated briskness to make as much noise as possible, suddenly afraid she’d hear the rustling of pages again before she left. She collected her coat and extinguished the lamp, sparing a last glance for the twilit library. Nothing stirred.

  ‘Master Bewen can check the library tonight; I’ll send him back with the key.’

  With that she left and locked the door behind her, hurrying across the courtyard until she was in the street and not so completely alone.

  ‘Dangerous streets, these,’ said a voice behind her. ‘You might want to be careful as you go.’

  Gennay jumped, her hand going to her mouth to cover a scream as she whirled around. There was a man behind her, stocky with greying hair and a commoner’s clothes. She took a step back – it was hard to tell, but he looked like the man who’d been watching her in the street the previous day.

  He was older than her; a few winters older than Pirn, Gennay guessed, with as many signs of a hard life etched into his face. His grey hair was not quite unkempt but, as with his clothes, some attention to it wouldn’t have gone astray.

  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ she asked, taking another step. He didn’t attempt to make up the ground but stood beside the wall, a mocking smile on his grubby face.

  ‘Well, you’re out here now. That makes it dangerous to my mind.’

  ‘This street’s well patrolled by the Watch. If I scream they’ll come running soon enough.’

  The man just smiled in a vaguely patronising way, reminiscent of Gennay’s brother in that it made her immediately want to slap him. ‘I ain’t the one who just popped a man’s shoulder out.’

  ‘What? How do you know about that?’

  ‘I passed your gaggle of scribes, put it back in for ’im. I’ve seen it done a few times in the past, the longer you leave it the harder it is to get it back in. Good thing he’s a scrawny little bugger that boy, not much muscle to get in the way.’

  ‘And they told you I did it?’

  ‘Well, said he’d fallen badly after you startled him. Sounded odd, but I ain’t the sort o’ man to rule out the curious.’

  Gennay put her hand in her pocket, just in case. ‘And what sort of man waits to address his betters in the street after performing such a service?’

  ‘One who wanted to talk to you anyway.’

  He pushed off from the wall and took a step forward. She couldn’t see a weapon on the man, but his coat was easily long enough to hide a dagger or short-sword and there was something in the gleam of his eye that made her feel even more vulnerable than she had in the library.

  ‘Well, I must leave, and I suggest you don’t follow me – my father’s steward will be meeting me and he doesn’t take kindly to your type.’

  ‘Few men do,’ the stranger agreed with a grin, ‘but that’s life for you. I’d appreciate it if you did spare me a little time however, Mistress Thonal.’

  She froze. ‘You know my name?’

  ‘Aye, there’s a lot of talk about this library you’re building – learning for the common man and such.’

  ‘You wish to be educated?’

  The man chuckled at that and shook his head. ‘I’ve got my letters and a whole lot more learning besides, but I’ve given up hoping I’ll ever appear educated. No, it was the library I was interested in, was hoping I might find some information in these books of yours.’

  ‘The library is not open to the public, the collection is barely starting to be assembled. The valuable works have not even been delivered, if that’s what you’re looking for.’

  ‘So quick to judge,’ he sighed. ‘I’m not looking to steal, just to learn some odd bits of history, and about the Knights of the Temples. Someone said you were getting copies of their libraries.’

  ‘Then come back in the morning,’ Gennay snapped, making to move away. He stepped towards her, not quite barring her path but making it clear he could if he wished.

  ‘I’m more of a man of the shadows myself, was hoping I could borrow your key and look at a few works before the steward and watchman arrived to lock up for the night.’

  Gennay shivered. ‘Even if I was willing to let you, I doubt you’d find the shadows in the library to your liking.’

  ‘Eh?’ He frowned. ‘Not to my liking? There something wrong with the shadows in there?’

  ‘What? No, it’s just . . .’ She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing, just an idle comment from someone who’s not slept as much as they need to. Sir, I don’t know who you are, but I cannot allow you access to the library, not until it is officially opened and certainly not unattended.’

  He regarded her without speaking, as though trying to puzzle something out. Before the stranger could say anything more however, a voice came from down the street and they both turned.

  ‘Gennay!’ called a young man, hurrying forward through the snow. He wore a long cloak but as he closed the man flicked it aside to make clear to the stranger he was carrying a sword.

  ‘That appears to be my cue,’ the stranger said. He gave her a small bow. ‘Thank you for your time, Mistress Thonal – keep a weather eye on those shadows.’

  Gennay gasped at that last comment, but he was off before she could overcome her surprise and reply. The stranger trotted away towards a side-street, not with undue haste but he covered the ground quickly and had disappeared around the corner by the time her brother reached at her side.

  ‘Gennay? Are you well?’ Emin asked, giving her a worried look. ‘Who was that?’

  She forced a smile and nodded, trying to ignore his piercing stare. Her brother’s eyes were a lighter shade than hers, so pale a blue they were halfway to white and even she found them unsettling when he asked q
uestions in earnest.

  ‘Quite well, and the man didn’t give his name – he was just interested in the library.’

  ‘That’s all? You look like you’ve seen a ghost – did he threaten you? I can catch him still.’

  She raised a placating hand. ‘Nothing like that, he just unnerved me.’

  To emphasise her point she took hold of her younger brother’s arm. Emin was hardly rash, but protective of his sister and sufficiently skilled with a sword that he’d easily outmatch the stranger.

  ‘That’s all?’ Emin lifted her head to look his sister straight in the eye. ‘That’s not like you, to be so frightened by a stranger for no reason.’

  ‘I’ve been taking fright at all sorts of things this week, jumping at shadows,’ she said, managing a brief laugh. ‘I’m over-tired, little brother, that’s all. My mind’s been playing tricks on me because I’m not getting enough sleep – if you’d spent any time at home this last week you’d have noticed that.’

  The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Uncle Anversis has had me out by nightfall, watching shadows as it happens.’

  ‘So you’ve not been drinking and whoring all night?’

  ‘Not so much as you think.’ His smile was a wicked gleam. ‘And anyway, where’s the fun in paying a woman? Far better to talk her into it.’

  Gennay raised a hand to stop him. ‘I don’t want to know the details, just as long as none of my friends are involved.’

  ‘Best you don’t know then,’ he said firmly.

  She shook her head, trying not to laugh. ‘Well, at least it won’t be the virtuous ones, I know you well enough for that. Why has Uncle Anversis got you chasing shadows?’

  ‘Ah now, it’s for a better reason than you might think. We’d been discussing malign spirits for reasons, well, reasons of far too much wine to be frank . . . however, it led us down an interesting path; that of drummer boys in these winter months.’

  ‘Drummer boys? You mean those gangs of youths who walk through the streets making a racket and trying to extort money from people?’

  As she spoke, Gennay shivered and Emin slipped an arm around her shoulders, setting them on the path home. ‘They’re the ones; Uncle claimed they were performing a service to the city whether they knew it or not. I thought they were nothing more than a bunch of common thieves. So of course, a little evidence was required and I’ve spent a few evenings on rooftops watching them come and go to see what nasty spirits were chased away by the commotion.’

  Gennay laughed, the sound abrupt and startling in the evening quiet. ‘Oh honestly, the two of you drink too much. So, once you watched the hordes of the Dark Place chased from Narkang’s streets you thought it was time to escort me home?’

  Emin just smiled his infuriating smile. ‘Something like that, yes. Come on, enough shadows for the both of us today, I think.’

  The next day came and went in a flurry of activity. Gennay started the morning late, her mother insisting that she rest rather than be heading to the library before dawn was fully established. It had the desired effect and when she did leave the family home it was with a renewed spirit and fervour for her work.

  Engaged in practical details of the offices and cataloguing the largest crate of books thus far, Gennay had no time to even think about the strangeness of the previous days. By the time the light waned and the library was taken over by shadows, she was as ready as the others to head home, weary but undaunted.

  By the next day, the scribes in the guildsmen offices were working on their first commissioned work and the library, for the first time, offered a glimpse of the place it would one day be. As the sun sank to the horizon and the craftsmen left, Gennay stood side by side with Sarras on the mezzanine, looking down at the hall below.

  ‘We’re getting there,’ she said at last, the pair of them savouring the shared sense of achievement. ‘It’s been one of those days when I feel we got something proper done.’

  ‘That we have, Mistress Gennay,’ Sarras agreed, looking more at ease in her company than he ever had. ‘Perhaps we should close up early today, in celebration?’

  She turned, knowing he was not one for laziness. ‘Are you trying to be gallant, Sarras?’

  The tall scribe blushed and lowered his gaze. ‘I apologise, Mistress, I hadn’t intended it to sound that way.’

  ‘But?’

  He hesitated, then bobbed in agreement. ‘But you need more than one good night’s sleep, and you’re not the only one. My imagination’s been playing tricks on me too and some of the young clerks have starting taking fright at nothing. Today was a good day, Mistress Gennay; let’s not allow our own foolishness to change that.’

  She smiled, wanting to laugh and hug the man but knowing she could do neither. ‘Very well, I do see your point. Go on then, chase your scribes from their offices and send them home. I’ll tidy up here.’

  Sarras went as instructed, taking the ring of keys with him to lock up that end of the building on the way. Gennay damped down the fire beside her desk and set about arranging the piles on her desk, piles that had only grown larger now more books had arrived and she was in the middle of preparing a card index. She stacked everything neatly and walked around the desk as the first pair entered the hall, two young copyists talking excitedly.

  She smiled and wished the earnest young men a good evening, but as she did so her sleeve caught the pile of index cards and spilled them across the floor. To make it worse, a half-dozen or so kept going and scooted over the swept flagstones, ending up halfway down the stairs.

  ‘Oh for pity’s sake,’ she muttered, surveying the mess.

  ‘Do you need a hand, Mistress?’ called one of the copyists, halting at the main door.

  ‘No, you go on,’ Gennay said, shaking her head at what she’d done. Her mood was good enough, however, that she was soon smiling at her carelessness and dismissed the pair with a wave. ‘Get yourselves off home, I’ll be done here in just a moment.’

  Her smile became broader when, as she waved, she discovered one of the cards had managed to get stuck inside the voluminous sleeve of her green woollen dress. It fluttered out and before she could catch it, swooped down to join its fellows on the stair.

  ‘Oh honestly, how did I manage that?’

  The remaining scribes soon followed the first two, each calling goodbyes to Gennay, until there was only Sarras waiting for her by the main entrance.

  ‘Start without me,’ Gennay said in a slightly muffled voice as she bent low to pick up the cards. ‘I’ve dropped a stack and will need a while to put them back in order.’

  Sarras assented and went to lock the south wing door that led to the guildsmen offices before he started towards the kitchen and stores. Gennay fetched the last of the cards and carried them back to her chair, arranging the pack against her stomach until she had a single, ordered block again.

  From downstairs came the click of latches and scrape of bolts and for a moment Gennay pictured Sarras as he went through the routine. They were both meticulous people and she could easily imagine each sound as it came; Sarras always followed the same routine every night. Eventually. there came the nearer scrape of the door into the hall and the oiled click of its lock, but then there was a few seconds of silence.

  Gennay frowned at the cards in her hands, surprised at hearing absolutely nothing until a slight grunt of annoyance broke the quiet. She smiled; Sarras had spotted something out of place. No doubt one of the workmen would be receiving a telling-off in the morning.

  There were footsteps and the creak of a hinge, then a gasp. She looked up. That wasn’t the sound of a man irate. Gennay set the cards down just as Sarras emitted a strangled whimper. At the balustrade she leaned over and saw Sarras backing into view, his face white with terror. The scribe had his mouth open and arms raised as though about to ward off a blow.

  The keys tumbled from his unresisting grip and clattered on the stone floor. His whimper grew into a fearful keening and his hands shook with fear; so terrified
was he that Gennay watched him stagger a few steps away and then his knees simply gave from under him and he collapsed onto his behind.

  That seemed to break the spell for both. Gennay raced down the stairs, but before she could reach Sarras he had scrambled to his feet and run for the door, shrieking. He slammed it behind him hard enough to rock it on its hinges and rebound, swinging back towards Gennay and crashing against a table behind before she could make up the ground.

  Instinct made her falter, but then Gennay was out of the open door. The cold wrapped around her exposed face like a whip and she faltered, seeing Sarras slip on the frosty cobbles but fight his way up again and barrel onwards, crying out piteously all the while.

  Gennay turned around, a sudden spark of fear in the pit of her stomach. Through the open door she could see the left-hand of the two reading rooms past a tall shelf stack, its door half-open. Inside, it was dark and she couldn’t see much but she pulled out her knife before edging forward all the same. There was a stack of books on the table, one open upon it, but nothing else that she could see through the gloom. She blinked. The shadows behind the desk seemed to squirm as she peered hard enough for her eyes to water and blur. When she looked again all was still, but before she had a chance to investigate further an inhuman shriek came from beyond the courtyard, followed by a heavy thump.

  Gennay turned, almost dropping the knife in her alarm. There were shouts and screams coming from the street. Without stopping to grab the keys to the library, she ran towards the commotion. More voices added to the clamour, horses and humans all panicked and fearful. She reached the gate and stopped dead, uncomprehending of the chaos in the street at first. There were people running towards her from all directions, men shouting and somewhere a young child howled. Torches bobbed through the evening mist, lending the scene an ethereal air.

  A coach drawn by two bucking horses was hauled to a halt by its driver, dragged askew across the road, and a coachman had jumped from it before the wheels had even stopped turning. He ran to the back of the coach and Gennay saw a bundle of cloth there on the ground. The cold seemed to intensify around her, fear freezing her gut and numbing every sound and sight.