Rebellion: Tainted Realm: Book 2

by Ian Irvine

  His potion caused nausea and severe gut pain. Had the double dose, on top of the strain of working that powerful magery, been too much for him? And where was Holm? Why hadn’t he come to Tobry’s aid? Had he been killed already? Tali raised her broken blade to hurl it at his opponent’s throat, then lowered it. That would leave her weaponless.

  Metal scraped on stone behind her. The female guard was still lying on the floor but she had raised her sword to the horizontal, and now she swung it awkwardly at Tali’s ankles.

  Tali sprang high. The sword shaved leather off the heel of her left boot, slipped from the guard’s hand and went skidding across the floor. The male guard looked around, thinking he was under attack, and Tobry thrust his blade home.

  Tali went for the female guard but the woman’s head thudded backwards into the stone floor. She was bleeding to death from her belly wound. Holm raced out of the passage, sword in hand.

  “Where have you been?” whispered Tali.

  “Guarding the clangours and watching the hall. We’d better get moving. When they don’t return, they’ll be missed. How long have we got?”

  “Depends on their rounds. Two hours at most.” She turned, her voice rising. “Tobry?”

  He was standing listlessly, the bloody sword dangling, and his eyes were glazed. He was going paler by the second.

  “Are you hurt?” said Tali. She could see no mark on him.

  “Just – overdose.”

  “Maybe you’d better wait here.”

  He grimaced. “I’ll cope. Which way?”

  Tali struggled to remember; too much had happened too quickly. “Er… left. What time is it?”

  “Must be after eleven,” said Holm.

  “Then the slaves will be in their beds. We’ll head to the men’s quarters first.”

  Tali knew quite a few Pale men by sight but had no friends among them. And the men were beaten down by exhausting labour in the mines and foundries. Why would they listen to her?

  She put that problem aside and focused on the immediate one – getting there. The men’s quarters, which were past the heatstone mine, were about a mile away. She wasn’t looking forward to going that way – a whole mine full of heatstone was bound to cause her excruciating pain.

  She took the guard’s sword in place of her own and they set off along the carved and painted tunnels. This time their luck held and they encountered no one on the way. It was just as well; Tobry was staggering and Tali’s wrenched wrist was so painful she could barely raise the sword.

  As they approached the barred entrance to the heatstone mine, the wall art became ever more dark and threatening. It was always so in places where the Pale lived and worked. The art in the rest of Cython depicted gentle scenes from nature, seldom showing humans, but here the walls were sculpted into wild scenes of jungle, storm and moor, and there were eyes in the darkness. Hunters. Predators.

  It was a warning to the Pale. Try to escape and this is what you will face.

  Tali crept past the mine entrance, keeping to the outside wall of the tunnel and as far away as possible from any heatstone. The pain was like being stabbed through the skull but she could not stop.

  “Heatstone?” said Holm.

  “Help me past.”

  He put an arm around her waist and heaved her along. Tobry lurched in their wake, twitching, sweating and still looking as though he was going to throw up. Once they had gone a couple of hundred yards past the mine, her headache began to ease.

  “What a miserable crew we are,” she said.

  “Speak for yourself,” said Holm, who had perked up since leaving the pondages.

  “The men’s quarters are around the next corner and down a hundred yards. Tobry, I’ll need you to work a concealing magery to get me past the guard post.”

  “What’s wrong with your magery?” Tobry said limply.

  “It’s weakening. I’m saving it for an emergency.”

  They struggled on. “Knock the guards down,” said Tali. “Stun them… or whatever… then deal with them while I rouse the men.”

  Her biggest challenge. The only time she had addressed a multitude had been at Lady and Lord Ricinus’s trial. Her tutors had not given her instruction in rhetoric, which was forbidden in Cython and would have earned her a chuck-lashing. How was she to convince all those worn-out men that rebellion and probable death in Hightspall was preferable to their miserable existence in Cython?

  They crept around the corner.

  “I can see the guard post,” said Holm, “but there aren’t any guards.”

  “What if we’re too late?” whispered Tali.

  “Get going!” said Tobry. “Courier must be – through – Seethings by now.” He slumped against the wall, holding his belly. His lips were an ugly grey, his eyes dilated.

  She bit her lip. There was nothing she could do for him. And he was right. Lyf’s courier would have reached the entrance to Cython by now. In half an hour he could be handing the death order to the matriarchs. All depended on how urgent it was, and how long they took to act on it. What if the enemy already had a plan and were just waiting for the order? There might not be much time at all.

  The men’s Empound, which consisted of banks of tiny, individual cells arranged around a large assembly area, was as neat and well scrubbed as everywhere else in Cython.

  But the place felt empty.

  Tali eased open a cell door and peeped in. She saw an empty stone bunk, a neatly folded ragweed blanket, a full water jug and a peg in the wall where the slave would hang his loincloth at bedtime. Every slave’s home looked like that. Few had any other possessions.

  She checked several other cells, randomly. They were all the same – like the women’s cells, only smaller. She tasted water from one of the jugs, and it was fresh. What could have happened to the men? The cells did not look abandoned – just empty.

  She went back to Tobry and Holm. “They’re not here. What do I do now?”

  “Where could they have gone?” said Holm.

  When she thought about it, the answer was obvious. “Mating nights.”

  “Which are?”

  “The three nights a month when the mated men are allowed to visit their women folk, and the younger men and boys go home to their families. They’ll be in the women’s Empound.”

  “Then your call to rebellion will have to be absolutely brilliant,” said Holm.

  “Why so?”

  “If you were seeing your partner for the first time in a month, would you go out to listen to some rabblerouser who was probably going to get you both killed?”

  CHAPTER 92

  “Wan’ me to take – guard down?” Tobry was worse, slurring his words. He was constantly checking behind himself now, his eyes wide and fearful.

  It was midnight, and the entrance to the women’s Empound was guarded. Tali pulled him back out of sight.

  “We can’t risk magery here.” Can’t risk you using it either, in your condition, she thought. You’d get it wrong and give us away.

  “Why not?”

  “The enemy’s quarters are just up there.” Tali pointed back to a broad tunnel leading off this one, “and the entrance is heavily guarded. If they hear anything suspicious they’ll be out in force.”

  “How are you planning to get into the Empound?” said Holm.

  “As a slave,” said Tali. The condition she most feared, but there was no other way.

  They went back and hid in an empty storeroom a hundred yards away. Tali tried to prepare herself mentally, but it was hard to focus when Tobry was throwing up blood in a corner.

  He wiped his mouth and staggered across. “What if you’re seen?” He sounded a little better.

  “Slaves are allowed to leave the Empound at night to relieve themselves. The squatteries are around the corner.”

  “Why don’t they have them inside the Empound?” said Holm. “That’d make more sense.”

  “Cythonians are fanatical about cleanliness. Even with all the lime
they use, the squatteries stink. They’re all well away from the living areas, with special air wafters and pipework to get rid of the smell.”

  “But if they recognise you —”

  “Why would they? Lots of Pale are blonde, and most are small. I’m a common type.”

  “Never common,” said Tobry. “I’d better come with you.”

  “You’re tanned and weathered! Any fool would know you’re not one of us. Why do you think we’re called the Pale?”

  “That’s not the real reason, is it?” said Tobry bitterly. “You’re afraid I’ll crack up.”

  Tali couldn’t deal with his troubles as well. The challenge facing her once she got into the Empound – if she did – was too overwhelming. “You said it. I didn’t.”

  His look told her he knew exactly what she meant.

  “You know what you’ve got to do,” said Tali. “Go down past the subsistery – the Pale’s dining hall – the entrance looks like the mouth of a grinning eel. Then head around and to the right. Break into the weapons stores and the tool stores —”

  “What if we can’t?” said Holm.

  “If your lock-breaking skills don’t work, Tobry will have to use magery. Find anything that can be used as weapons – enough for thousands. Especially heatstone – there’s a storeroom full of it, here.” She showed him on the map. “Once you’ve done that, come back, deal with the Empound guard and keep watch. If you run into any of the enemy, and you probably will, you know what to do.”

  “Why not deal with the guard now?” said Holm.

  “The guards change in an hour, and it’s going to take me longer than that to get thousands of Pale up and talk them into rebelling.” Assuming she could. “Off you go; I’ve got to get undressed.”

  They went out. Tali took a length of green rag from her pack, stripped and put her clothes, boots and knife in. She rumpled up her hair and fastened the loincloth around her hips.

  And she was a slave again. A half-naked, helpless slave that any Cythonian could strike down. She could feel the slave’s mind-set rousing, the hope draining out of her. Tali fought it. No matter how she was dressed, she was the Lady Thalalie vi Torgrist, here to save her people.

  After taking a deep breath, she adjusted her loincloth, readjusted it, then went out, practising the slave’s listless walk, the downcast eyes and dangling arms. Around the corner, up the gentle slope towards the guard post.

  It was hard to breathe; a knot tightened in her belly. You look like a common slave, she reminded herself, like all the others here. Why would any guard take notice of you?

  She watched him from the corner of an eye as she passed. He looked up, then down again. Slaves went in, slaves went out. As long as there was no ruckus in the Empound, he wasn’t concerned. In a couple of hours there would be a huge ruckus, but by then Tobry and Holm would have dealt with the new guard. If Tobry was still on his feet.

  And if he hadn’t had an attack of shifter madness. She should have given Holm the emergency potion, which was in the bottom of her pack in the storeroom. Too late now. She couldn’t go back.

  Tali followed the tunnel in. It curved around to the right and the wall art here was ferocious and threatening, full of toothed beasts in savage landscapes under lowering skies.

  Her greatest challenge was yet to come, and it was the one she was least well equipped for. What if the Pale wouldn’t rebel? Why would they listen to her, an escaped slave who had stupidly come back to slavery? What if they laughed at her or mocked her? The thought of standing up before such a vast sea of hostile faces almost made her wet herself.

  Tali plodded to a stop, feeling the panic rising. The courier could have reached the matriarchs by now; he could be handing them the death order. Would they debate it, wait until the morning, or act at once? Eighty-five thousand lives depended on the answer.

  The women’s Empound had the same layout as the men’s quarters, curving slices like honeycomb each containing thousands of little cells arranged around a circular assembly area a couple of hundred yards across. The arching ceiling was held up by thick, octagonal columns arranged in arcs, carved from the native rock. The only difference was that the cells and the assembly area were larger here. On mating nights the Empound had to accommodate many more Pale.

  She crossed the assembly area, went to the first cell, shoved the door open and said, “Get up. The enemy are coming to kill you.”

  “What?” a man’s voice said thickly.

  “Kill us?” cried a woman.

  Tali did not reply. She ran down several doors and said the same thing, then scrambled up to the next level of the honeycomb of cells, then along and up again, repeating her message but offering no explanation. She crossed to the next section of the honeycomb, then to the section after that.

  She could not go to every cell, or even every row; that would have taken hours. Tali was trusting to the slaves’ natural curiosity and ever-present fear to get them outside and rouse their neighbours.

  Their lives being mind-numbingly tedious, the smallest bit of news or gossip fascinated them, as did any kind of violence against their fellow slaves. Her well-chosen words offered both and soon thousands of Pale were outside, all whispering at once.

  In fifteen minutes, she judged that everyone who was coming out had done so. There were people everywhere along the walkways to the cells and in the assembly area, tens of thousands of them. Such an assembly was forbidden, so she had to sway them quickly. The strong slaves preyed on the weak and anyone who could gain favour by denouncing her was likely to do so, unless she convinced them that their own lives were in peril.

  Tali stood at the edge of one of the walkways, halfway up a bank of cells where the maximum number of people could see her. She held up a hand and the talking ceased. She had to be quick, and she had to put it simply, clearly, persuasively.

  “You know me,” she said. “I am Tali vi Torgrist, the first Pale ever to escape from Cython. I killed Overseer Banj with mighty magery. I know the way out. I’ve come back to free you, because —”

  “Why would we listen to you?” sneered a familiar voice, off to her right. It was a tall, beautiful slave with a fall of shining black hair and skin like rubbed amber. Radl.

  Tali’s heart stopped, then restarted, beating twice as fast. Radl had been her enemy since childhood, and since her man had been executed in the heatstone mine last year she burned with barely suppressed fury. But she was a natural leader who kept the Pale in her group in line better than their masters could, and she had saved many a life by doing so.

  “There’s a death order out for the Pale.”

  “Explain!”

  “Up above, the war’s turning against Lyf,” said Tali. “He has to make sure Cython is safe, in case he has to retreat here. He’s just issued a death order on the Pale.”

  “I don’t believe you,” said Radl.

  “It’s true,” Tali said desperately. “His courier will be here by now, handing the death order to the matriarchs.”

  “How could you know that?”

  “There isn’t time for this,” said Tali. “Please, Radl, we’ve got to get them out.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I’ve been spying on Lyf with magery. For weeks. I was afraid this would happen.”

  “I think you’re lying,” said Radl, smiling thinly.

  “Why would I come back to slavery? If they catch me, I’m going to suffer the most agonising death they can create.”

  “Yes, you are.” Radl licked her lips. “But the slave who betrays you will be well rewarded.”

  “Are you prepared to bet your neck on that?”

  Radl frowned.

  “If I’m telling the truth, you’ll lose your head to the Living Blade, like everyone else,” said Tali. She reached out to Radl. “I’ve seen the death order. And I saw the courier leaving Caulderon, two hours ago. He’ll be here by now.”

  “How’s the war going?” Radl said abruptly.

  The Pale h
ad only one source of news – what their masters told them. Most of the time that was nothing, though of course they knew there was a war on. Keeping one eye on the gathering, Tali sketched the situation in Hightspall in as few words as possible.

  When she finished, Radl just stared at her, and Tali began to sweat. Even if the courier wasn’t here yet, more than an hour had passed since she and Tobry had killed the guards at the pondages. The moment their bodies were discovered, the hunt would be on and all Cython would be roused. Then the rebellion would be crushed before it begun.

  “All right,” said Radl. “I believe you. But they won’t listen.”

  Some of the slaves were already heading back to their cells, their minds closed.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ve spent all my hours since Mia’s death blackening your name.”

  “Why would you do that?” Tali said hoarsely.

  Radl shrugged. “She was my friend and you caused her death. And I’ve never liked you. I was working on a similar plan, and your escape ruined mine.”

  Tali shivered. She felt sure Radl was going to betray her.

  “But I love my people and I want them to escape,” Radl said unexpectedly. “What’s your plan?”

  “I’ve got two allies here. They’re breaking into the armouries right now. We arm our people, as many as we can, and run for the nearest exit.”

  “All the exits are guarded and booby trapped.”

  “But the enemy are expecting an attack from outside, not inside. Holm knows how to disable traps, and Tobry can blast down the guards with magery.”

  “It’s not much of a plan,” said Radl. “The enemy have thousands of trained fighters; we have none.”

  “I was hoping not to fight. Have you got a better plan?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Wait; there’s one other thing.” Tali explained how small pieces of heatstone could be used like grenadoes. “We can attack the enemy with heatstone if we have to, and since they’re superstitious about the stuff, I don’t think they’ll use it against us.”