by C. M. Gray
'We need a distraction, and I suppose it may as well be me,' said Mahra, 'just be ready.' She crouched down next to Nella. 'Take care of my friends. I'll meet you on the other side.' She pulled back from the wall and let go of Nella's hand, the little girl looked distraught.
'Aint yer coming with us?'
'Don't worry; I'll be there. I'm part cat, and cats hate water. But I'm also part bird, so I can fly across.' She gave Nella a big smile, and then turning towards the bridge and the crowd, she fell forward reaching out with her hands that had already become the soft paws of a sleek black panther as they touched the wet cobbles. Nella clapped her hands and squealed in delight causing both Tad and Quint to turn and say 'shhhh,' but silence wasn't necessary, the panther had already reached the bridge.
The effect Mahra's arrival had on the crowd was dramatic. The first person to notice her approach was a middle-aged man, helping his aged friend home after a day's entertainment at the pit. He saw the large yellow eyes staring out of the darkness, squinted his eyes to get confirmation they weren't lying to him, and then the blood drained from his face and his eyes opened wide. Letting out a shriek, he threw his aged friend towards the beast and tried to push his way through the crowd, past the pitman onto the bridge. The pitman, still unaware of the panther's presence, tried to stop him to check his hastily proffered pass.
'I need to get through; it's an emergency…. please, let me through now.'
The man angrily shook his pass in the official's face, desperately trying to get through. But now as he fought to get away from the danger, others also began to see what was approaching, and screams and cries of panic filled the air as a now panicked crowd tried to flee. The two pitmen rapidly losing control of the situation turned, in time to see the panther trot forward and let out a roar.
'Brother of Chaos, look at that monster!' cried the first. Raising his club, he tried to back away, but several people in the crowd shoved him forward. Then the panther leapt and the bridge lived up to the names of its city as Bedlam and Mayhem ensued.
Swinging their clubs wildly, the pitmen blew their whistles and screamed for help, finally succeeding in bringing two colleagues running down the street.
'Now,' hissed Quint, as he judged all attention was on Mahra. He pushed the others towards the gate that a now visible Pardigan was holding open beckoning urgently for them to come. Arriving with a slide in the mud, Quint shoved Elisop through, took a glance to where the sounds on the bridge had become very loud, and headed down the steps with Pardigan right behind him.
Back on the bridge, Mahra had been waiting for the sound of the gate to close and with a last swipe of her claws at her closest assailant; she turned and headed back towards the river. Leaping up on the wall, she turned to regard her pursuers as the four pitmen crept closer.
'I don't know where it came from, but we have to get it for the pit,' hissed the first pitman to arrive. The others joined him, spreading out. 'Looks powerful strong, get a net or something…' He glanced behind to see if someone was bringing a net, then looked back just in time to see the panther leap at him. His eyes opened wide in fear, and his hands came up in a futile attempt to defend himself, a shrill scream coming unbidden from deep inside, 'Yiieeehhh,' and he staggered back into the others. If he hadn't instantly closed his eyes anticipating the hit of the panther, he would have seen it change into an owl and glide harmlessly over his head and pass around the now silent, staring crowd.
The owl rose up and was quickly lost from sight in the falling rain and then she flew back past the bridge and over the river. The pitman, feeling no teeth, claws or weight upon him, opened his eyes and was helped up by the others, he glanced fearfully about and seeing no panther, fell back to his knees, sobbing in relief. Several of the onlookers dashed to the wall and stared over the edge, but both the owl and the panther had disappeared.
The trip over the river was slow, wet and extremely treacherous, and they weren't the only ones under the bridge. It was apparently quite a popular way to cross the river with several people coming in from the other side and one man dropping down from a grating in the wall. Stepping up onto the latticework of supports, Pardigan and Quint hurried Elisop along through the maze of wood and metal that formed the underside of the main structure. It wasn't a clear path. They began clambering over metal supports, across narrow girders and carefully placed wooden planks, and on several occasions they were passed and overtaken by people, each saying nothing in greeting, obviously all more used to the experience and vastly more comfortable with the terrifying drop to the rushing waters beneath. It may not be as congested as the road above, but with only slippery girders to hold onto as the mighty river thundered close beneath, it was busy enough that there was a constant danger of losing their footing or being accidentally nudged off as someone tried to pass.
'Can we go home soon, Quint?' shouted Pardigan over the noise. 'I think I'm ready to be a fisherman or just a trader!'
Quint smiled at his friend then grabbed Elisop as the little spy slipped. Regaining his feet, Elisop turned his frightened face to Quint, nodded his thanks and kept going.
'Can you see the other side?' yelled Quint. The noise from below them was deafening as the water clashed against the bridge supports. He was shielding his eyes from the spray, squinting between the beams. They were over half way, but the far bank could just be made out, still about thirty paces away.
'Yes, I can see it,' shouted back Pardigan without looking, 'but I'll not place-shift across and let you do this all alone. Come on, we're nearly there.' As the two friends herded Elisop on, Pardigan looked back to see if the three children were still behind them. Nella gave a wave and the two boys were grinning happily. Pardigan shook his head, amazed at how calm they were and concentrated on balancing across a particularly treacherous looking beam.
The far bank, when they did finally reach it, was a welcome sight. Mahra was standing there to help them from the bridge onto the muddy bank where they made their way, slipping and sliding wearily towards a crumbling stone stairway.
'We're through the worst, come on, this way,' said Tad pushing through to the front. With Nipper holding his hand, he led them up and into the lower city.
The citizens of the twin cities accepted that Bedlam was where the more affluent amongst them resided, such as those in the merchant class and of course those who had somehow gained the Queen's favour - Mayhem, by comparison, seemed to celebrate in its muck and filth. It was where the less affluent and therefore less desirable citizens of the twin cities lived and was just a little more… primitive.
'Where are we?' whispered Quint as they reached the top of the steps and gained their first sight of the lower city. Wooden planks had been thrown down at the side of the street as a walkway beside the mud, muck and manure that had been churned up in the street by the thousands of residents, their horses and carts. They followed each other, gazing about in wonder. The buildings lining either side were crudely built from rough-sawn wood, appearing less constructed than thrown together. The residents had obviously scavenged materials from wherever they could get them and erected the best shelter they were capable of with the aim of keeping the rain and cold out rather than as monuments to architecture, each building appearing to be a work in progress. The city was full of people, shouting, singing in accompaniment to numerous instruments - they all appeared to be drinking. In several of the buildings, the sounds of fighting, breaking furniture and smashing glass added to the growing unease of the little group, forcing them to quicken their pace as fast as possible along the muddy walkway.
They had successfully navigated three streets when a bearded man staggered from a doorway and blocked their path. They came to a sudden halt. He stared at them with bleary eyes, then turned away, dropped to his knees and vomited noisily into the mud. The noise drew the attention of a skinny mongrel. It had been sniffing experimentally at a pile of garbage close by, but it managed to make its way over through the mud, tail wagging where it lapped up the o
ffered feast with relish.
'Oh, Source, that's so disgusting,' muttered Mahra. She clutched Nella's hand and tried to pull her away, but the little girl looked up wondering what was wrong. 'We have to get away from here. I'm really feeling quite ill. It didn't help that the air was heavy with a mixture of smoke and bad smells. The residents obviously used the main street as an open sewer, piles of garbage leaned against every building, and there was a greasy, quite revolting smell of what might possibly be cooking food. As they shuffled on, past the prostrate drunk, they tried to stay on the planks while they gazed in lurid fascination at the life going on inside each building, where candles and smoky oil lamps cast low flickering glimpses of the occupants. No thought had been given to lighting the muddy streets. As the little group picked their way along the boards the lack of illumination made it treacherous and slippery, and soon all of them were coated past their knees in mud and dung. They huddled beneath their cloaks, miserable, avoiding people whenever they could, following the dancing figure of Elisop as he picked his way through the maze of streets and buildings.
He finally came to a halt and waited for them to gather around him. 'Salutations Mayhem,' piped up Elisop. A flash of lightning flickered as if on cue, illuminating the street and driving rain. They had stopped beneath a metal overhang that offered scant yet welcome shelter and Elisop was once again playing the part of jolly guide. The filthy miserable group that stood around him simply shuffled their feet in the mud hoping he would move on again soon.
'The buildings of the lower city are, as I'm sure you've noticed, made of wood, and from time to time they all burn down,' lectured Elisop. 'The citizens of the lower city tend to keep this in mind and build their… hovels,' he looked around in distaste, 'in a very low-cost temporary fashion. However, there is one building in the lower city that isn't made of wood,' he clapped his hands to get their attention and indicated that they should look around the corner of the building, 'that one!'
They shuffled round to see that out of the mud and squalor of Mayhem, a colossal shadowed structure rose up into the black rain-filled night. The brickwork stretching up into the darkness where its towers pierced the clouds with a dull unnatural red glow. No light showed from its many darkened windows, and only a single lantern hung outside the small entranceway. It creaked ominously in the chill breeze. Above the door, crouched low as if about to pounce, was a large stone bat. Its wings were stretched wide, and its teeth were bared as if ready to jump down and rip the flesh from anyone that dared approach.
'Welcome to the Chaos temple,' said Elisop, staring up, the smile slowly dropping from his face.
* * *
Chapter 17
The Heart of Chaos
Throughout the night, visions had swirled through the golden clouds of the scrying dish in a mesmerising blur of faces, rocks, paths and places. When at last fatigue overcame him and the visions finally slowed, Matheus Hawk sat back and allowed his senses to recover some control – he was all too aware of how close he was to collapse. The mental will required to focus the visions was enormous. Adding to this was the discomforting necessity of having the bronze dish heated on a fiercely burning brazier, making the whole task incredibly strenuous. Matheus closed his eyes, head pounding as he tried to relax his mind. The flesh of his face felt sore and burned from the heat, but setting pain aside, he tried once more to find the energy and concentration to prepare for one final session. A claw-like hand came up and absently wiped away the sheen of sweat that covered his face, his eyes never leaving the dish.
'Silence, Nhasic,' growled the hunter, 'I am close now.' The little demon stopped its chattering and sat back, baring its teeth in a silent shriek of hatred towards its master's back.
The visions in the dish returned to show parts of the Massif Mountains and then the Bolt, swept with snow in a howling blizzard.
'Where are they?' muttered Matheus. He passed a hand around the rim of the bowl, and the vision moved with it, offering a different view of where he had last seen his despised adversaries.
The hunched shapes of three figures came into view. Matheus tensed as he focused the dish closer, trying to see who they were through the blinding snow. It was difficult. They were stooped or crouched, their cloaks wrapped tightly about them, unmoving, already dead or slowly freezing as they suffered the worst weather the Bolt could inflict. The remains of a fire lay between them, long since extinguished by a combination of wet snow and lack of fuel.
'Just some of Morgasta's dogs,' mumbled Matheus to himself. 'Dead dogs now,' he hissed as his hands moved once more. The image in the dish turned to a blur as more of the Bolt was scanned. 'Nothing,' he finally conceded. 'No avalanche or wall! No way have they managed to stop Morgasta coming through, they have failed!' The image pulled out at a dizzying speed sending Nhasic back into a new fit of shrieking movement.
'Silence!' screamed Matheus. His hand slashed out, backhanding the little demon across the room where it landed heavily against the wall. It took more than that to hurt a demon and Nhasic jumped up, hissing, but the Hawk's attention had returned to the scrying dish.
After a further long period of fruitless searching with Matheus now swaying from side to side with fatigue, the image within the dish followed the path and fell upon a bedraggled column of people trailing behind a wagon – unmistakably, the very gutter rats he was after. Relief flooded through him. Drawing a breath he took a moment to still himself. They were out of the Bolt now and retreating towards the distant coast. Making their way along the northern boundary of the Massif, the riders were bent low in their saddles as the frigid wind and driven snow did its best to unhorse them. Matheus let out an evil cackle.
'They flee!' he crooned with delight. 'Their trip was for nothing, and they run scuttling back to my fat friend's ship!' Both hands gripping the dish, all thoughts of fatigue forgotten and ignoring the heat, he guided the vision down towards the wagon. Clearing the flurrying snow, he was immediately rewarded with a momentary glimpse of Bartholomew's unhappy face peering out from behind the wagons cover.
'Oh, you poor fat fool, drawn around like the useless barrel of cheese that you are!' With another movement of his hands, the scene changed, stopping briefly on several riders before finding the smaller figure of Loras. Matheus said nothing for a few moments as he studied the small figure wrapped under several layers of cloak. His knuckles whitened, as his grip on the dish became tighter. 'You, my young Magician… you I shall meet later, of that I am sure.'
'Loras will grind your bones to powder and feed your brains to your smelly little demon!' the screaming voice came from the darkness, high on the wall above Matheus. He turned slowly to look at his captive, chained helplessly and held aloft by red glowing coils of magic.
'You know this boy, Princess? How delightful and deliciously fitting, you may prove more useful than merely as a gift for our Lord of Shadows after all.'
'Loras will kill you!' shrieked Princess Fajera. 'He is a great Magician!' She spat as hard as she possibly could, but the thin ribbon of saliva barely reached halfway across the cave floor. Nhasic scuttled forward chattering loudly and dipped his finger into the glistening trail then licked it experimentally. Ignoring them both, Matheus returned his attention to the dish, once more spinning his hands rapidly around the hot rim. The vision pulled out to a greater height before dropping once more, ahead of the group, to horsemen travelling in the opposite direction.
'Ahh, now this may prove to be entertaining. A band of Morgasta's scum about to add spice to the day!' his laughter filled the chamber and Nhasic slipped closer to see what delight had befallen his master. 'Let us see how your young friend fares against a Barbarian sword, Princess. I hope he survives because I want to show you what his heart really looks like.' His laughter all but covered the sounds of the Princess's sobbing as he turned to watch with interest as the two groups came closer together.
* * *
Pardigan shivered uncomfortably as he waited for Mahra to say her goodbyes. Rain had
finally found its way beneath his cloak to soak the back of his shirt, and he was tired, uncomfortable and ready to curl up somewhere warm and sleep for a long, long time.
'Come on, Mahra, let's go,' he hissed, but she was ignoring him, trying to console the little girl.
'We have to go in.' Mahra was softly saying to Nella. 'We've come for something that was stolen, and it's inside this temple.'
'But it's an 'orrible place. People that go in and… well, they don't come out again. Just leave it; whatever it is ain't worth it. Come and live with us instead… won't you?' Mahra silently shook her head and pressed a gold coin into the girl's hand. Turning to Nipper, she did the same for him and then looked to Tad. She held out a coin, which he took, and appeared about to say something, but then changed his mind.
'When all this is over, we're coming back for you… do you believe me?' Mahra held the gaze of each in turn until they nodded. 'We're going to be away for a while, and then we will come looking in the drains for you. Just a few weeks and we'll be back, I promise.' She could see that both Pardigan and Quint were itching to get into the temple.
Pardigan peered nervously up and down the street then his attention was drawn to Elisop who was looking lost. He had brought them to the temple, but now appeared reluctant to go in - he couldn't blame him.
'You don't have to come with us you know.' Pardigan watched as the strange little man drew himself up, his bearing and whole character changing.
'I have important information for King Hugo, that is true, but you need me. We will all go in and then leave together.' He nodded in agreement with himself and then started towards the door, only to be stopped short as Quint grabbed his arm.
'This time, you can stay with me,' said Quint. 'Pardigan will lead, and Mahra will keep to the back.' Mahra nodded.