The Key To The Grave (#2 The Price Of Freedom)

by Chris Northern

  #

  The east side of the river was much the same as the west had been, irrigated farmland packed close to the banks, breaking into moorland inside a mile or so. Small fields of plough-lands with their attendant farms and small communities, sheep herded on the moors. But the road south was clear and broad, following what had clearly once been a city-made road but now was a grassy track since the foundation stones had long since been removed for building materials. Out of curiosity I asked Jek where the road went.

  “North? It leads to Hederan, another city fort from before. There were mines there. The story goes that the citymen came, mined the place out and then left again.” He shrugged.

  I let it drop. It was as much as I had suspected. And I could infer what I wanted to know from his answer; that there were no further forts turned towns in the north. Just these two. Curious, but not that interesting. If Hederan had already fallen to the Necromancers he would know of it and would have said. I guessed its situation was much like Learneth's. The Necromancers did not seem to be coordinated. It was clear that they had not secured this area before heading south to stir up the Alendi and other tribes against us. Ishal Laharek had a few allies south of the mountains and clearly had some influence in Learneth, but the lands around and between Learneth and Hederan were only now being subverted. I already had some indications that there were rivalries between the Necromancers, that they vied with each other for power and influence. I decided to stop thinking of the Necromancers as they, and start thinking of them only as individuals with similar methods but greater and lesser industry and competence. Ishal, who had influence in Twobridges and Darklake, possibly an ally in Duprane, and clearly some influence in Learneth. Another who worked his will among the surviving Alendi who had fled into the hills. And surely a third Necromancer worked in Learneth and had some influence there. Then there was the one Dubaku had killed, and maybe a handful of others not so far away.

  “How many Necromancers are there?”

  Jek shrugged. “I don't know. How could I? From what I have heard, they were never many. A dozen, two dozen. Not more, I would guess. They are are jealous of their power and do not spread it readily, so they are always few. In the past they have focused their attention around Battling Plain. I know that ten or twelve years ago they extended their influence to within a couple of days travel of Hederan in the north. I used to travel that far to trade.”

  “Why did you stop?”

  He looked at me, face grim. “They mark their borders with talking corpses, Sumto. They don't encourage outside involvement in their business. I took the hint.”

  “But you didn't guess that the Blackrobes and Necromancers were the same?” I couldn't see how he had not made the connection.

  He shook his head. “I'd never seen one of them, or spoken to anyone who had. I suppose I thought I would know one of I ever saw one. I was wrong.”

  I could understand that, I guess. It is easy to assume that you will know evil when you see it. Easy to be wrong.

  We made good time, stopping for the occasional rest break, until about noon when Dannat's mare picked up a stone in her hoof. He called a halt, dropped to the ground and expertly dug the stone free before walking her in a circle. The mare still limped and I muttered a curse. The road behind us was clear. We'd seen the odd farmer about his business, but no sign of Ishal behind us. The road ran straight and true with no overhanging trees to ruin the view, so I knew he wasn't within shouting distance of catching us. Still, now we were slowed and he might catch us before we came to Learneth.

  I looked around and picked out the biggest horse. “Double up with Jek and lead her.” It was the best we could do. The pace slowed, and the delay chafed at me. I didn't want to confront Ishal on the road, not now. I nervously kept a better eye on our backtrail. How far back there were they? Had the men from Learneth given it up by now or did Ishal still have them with him? There was no way of knowing and it worried me.

  Around noon we stopped at a farmhouse and Jek traded for local clothing for Jocasta. It was a struggle to get the family of farmers to part with anything; cloth is time-consuming to weave and expensive because of it, and it cost us more than I'd hoped; the clothes forthcoming were threadbare and patched. Still, now all of us looked more or less like locals. There was no purpose to be served in buying clothing for Dubaku. I'd spoken to to him on the road, outlining my plan to seek out his people. It was hard to tell if he was grateful, but he had thanked me solemnly. When I had raised the issue of his disguise he had informed me that he intended to be unseen. He had then volunteered the information that if he should take a weapon into his hand he would become visible again; the spirit who cloaked him would do so only for his own safety, not to aid him in an assassination attempt. It was, I think, the first time he had volunteered any information about his abilities, and I guessed that it would have to do for now. Yet I suspected that it indicated a new level of cooperation.

  We also traded Dannat's lame horse for another. Seeing horses at pasture was the reason we had chosen that farm to stop at. Dannat was reluctant at first, claiming a fondness for the animal. After a time I lost patience with him.

  “If you want to walk, then walk, we won't wait. Otherwise, leave your lame beast here and let's get moving,” I'd snapped. It was no idle threat. I sympathized with his objectives, wanted to see his sisters freed, but wouldn't endanger the rest of us for his sentimentality over a damn horse. Ultimately, I didn't need him and he had no claim on me. He'd relented and we had moved on.

  Learneth came into sight in the afternoon, in the rain. Apart from being wet, cold and miserable, I was happy enough. Guards and rain don't mix, and whoever they had at the gates was less likely to be attentive because of it. It had been agreed that Jek and his family would lead us in, claiming us as relatives from the south. I took a long look at each of us as we approached the town, and caught Sapphire doing the same thing, seeing if we passed for what we were purporting to be. He seemed happy enough, except for Dubaku, who took the hint and called on his ancestors to hide him from sight.

  “I smell smoke,” Sapphire said calmly.

  I tipped my head back and scented the air. It was a town. They would have to burn something for heat and cooking. I wasn't at once surprised or concerned. The light was poor, the clouds low and the rain constant and misting in the wind. The rain was driving down any scent, but still I faintly caught a hint of the smell of burned wood. I grunted non-committally. It might mean nothing. I squinted through the rain, looking for details. Before the low walls and squat towers typical of a city fort lay a scattering of buildings and holding pens. Flickers of movement caught my eye, men and beasts in swirling and chaotic motion. Cattle bellowing in distress. A flicker of flames, bright through the rain. A scream sounded loud, and suddenly cut short. A shout. And then, suddenly clear, a clash of arms. I didn't think coming in secret was going to be an issue any more.

  Learneth was at war.

  #

  “It's hard to tell,” Jek said.

  War is about control. Control of water, food, money and materials, resources, men and strategic strongholds. That is what Issarin Carrul says, and I know him to be right. The fight before us was a battle, all-be-it a chaotic and disjointed one with relatively few people involved, a battle for food in the form of livestock. I had no idea who was in conflict, or whose side I wanted to take but I knew for certain that I did want to take sides and lend my weight decisively to one side or the other. Yet I needed it to be the right side, the side in opposition to my enemy. I really needed to know who was who, and Jek's ambiguous response wasn't helping.

  “Just tell me what you think. Quickly.”

  We had stopped and fanned out across the road. The chaotic fight ahead of us seemed to be taking place in small engagements all over the area outside the gate and it was impossible to tell how many people were involved or even how many sides there were. The road led through this to a gate that had burned; a haze of smoke lay over the town, speaking
of other burned buildings inside. We could enter the city or, as I thought best, we could begin here and now to take control.

  “Those are stockmen,” he pointed out a group of men to the right of the road, manning a makeshift barricade between two large buildings, “and slaughtermen mixed among them. No soldiers that I can see there.” He pointed the other way, standing in the saddle. “That is a clash between city guardsmen fighting each other with a few citizens mixed in.” So the magistrates are at odds. I'd guessed and hoped that would be the case; power vacuums will be filled. By me if I had anything to say about it. “And further away there is some fighting among the stockmen's homes, closer to the walls. No idea whose involved, it's too far to see.”

  “Right.” This wasn't helping. What were the sides? Where had the lines been drawn and who had drawn them? Where did I need to be for best advantage? “See those stockmen?” I pointed off the right at the men who manned the barricade and watched things unfold, just as we did. “We are going to join them and see what they know. They are not going to be pleased to see us and may not play ball, so weapons away and try and look innocuous.” Yeah. That was going to happen. Still, I didn't have a better idea and we had planned to blend in, dressed for it, prepared for it. 'Just some folks come in from the country with no clue what was happening... so, what's happening?' I kicked my mount into a canter and headed hard that way. I needed information. They had it. And they were just citizens; either they were under orders or things had degenerated so that no one was in control. They weren't actually fighting anyone, so they were my best bet at getting some idea of what was going on with least resistance. I hoped they were not too jumpy to talk.

  I did a headcount as we came closer. I made it eighteen at the barricade. They had spears, not bows, which was good – though it was raining and the strings of bows would soon be useless in the wet. They looked grim and determined, edgy and nervous, frightened and excited, typical mixed emotions of men thrust into the fight unexpectedly. They were aware of us and watched us come without a sign of pleasure at the prospect of an encounter. They didn't know if we were friend or foe; despite our look, despite the fact there were women and children with us, they were wary, uncertain, defensive. Things must be a mess.

  I reined in before we were close enough to be challenged and as my companions gathered around me I dropped from the saddle. “Wait,” I said.

  “I'd rather you didn't do that,” Jocasta said, and I could hear the worry in her voice.

  “I want information, not a fight. Look at them. To them we are locals, countrymen and with us women and children, and still they are nervous. Best to take their fear away before they feel threatened, don't you think?”

  “I didn't say I thought you were wrong, just that I'd rather you didn't do it.”

  “I could go,” Jek chipped in. “I may be recognized. It may go easier for me.”

  True, but he didn't know what I wanted and I wouldn't let anyone negotiate on my behalf if it went that way, and there wasn't time to play send the messenger back and forth, and Ishal was behind us, who knew who far? And most importantly I didn't want to stand here arguing about it in the rain. “Then come with me, Jek.”

  I heard him dismount as I walked away. I was half way across the thirty-odd yards between us and the barricade before he came up beside me. “Do you think women know how it undermines your authority when they challenge your decisions in public?” He said conversationally.

  “She'll know later when I tell her.” If I remembered. “Do you think it's worse when they are right?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. Right or wrong I recognize that man on the wall.” He raised his voice. “Pradas! What the hell is going on?”

  One of the men leaned even further forward onto the piled cart in front of him, a short length of wood in one hand, the other sheltering his eyes as he peered into the rain. “Jek? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

  “Long story, friend. And I asked you first!”

  “Hold it right there! That's close enough!” The new voice belonged to a big, meaty man who clearly ate to support a level of exercise he no longer indulged in, a man with big arms and shoulders but also a big belly. “What do you want?”

  “News,” I hardly had to raise my voice over the sound of the rain all around us, or the sounds of fighting not so far away, we were so close. “What's has happened here in Learneth? Why are you at arms? Are we invaded?” I thought the 'we' was a nice touch.

  “Who are you?” The big man called, and I suddenly wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but Pradas came to my rescue.

  “Leave it be, Drant. I know Jek as headman of Tael, and any man with him is sound, I tell you.” He didn't stop for an answer, even though Drant turned an impressive frown of displeasure on him. “There's no telling what's happening, Jek. I'd get out of here if I were you.”

  Jek shrugged. “We may do that, but I still want to know what happened.”

  “There's nothing here for you!” Drant called out. “We are hard pressed enough to care for our own and protect what we have!”

  “The Magistrates are holed up in their homes and all have men under arms now,” Pradas said, ignoring his companion. “The crowds have been looting for days, egged on by Hathen Elt, a priest out of Battling Plain who preaches that those with the most should tithe to those with the least, and those with less should give their possessions to those with nothing. Madness, but the majority lapped it up, and those who are idle and feckless loved it best of all. Easy to rouse a rabble who are motivated to steal and believe themselves just in doing it. But who's to stop them when they get started? At first it was just few, and some others gathered to protect themselves when the city guard proved unwilling to do it, or even helped the rabble strip the wealthy. Now the whole town is in chaos. The magistrates are holed up and every one of them has men under arms and they are fighting among themselves, some for Hathen Elt and his teachings and some against and some just out for themselves. The council isn't meeting and no one seems up to the job of taking charge.” He shrugged. “There has been no market for days. No trade. No baking of bread or any normal commerce. People are hurting, some have fled. It's chaos, man, and you are better off out of it.”

  I'd been listening but also casting about, aware of the sounds of fighting as the rain eased off, the sound of its drumming lessening and finally petering out as Pradas spoke. “Why has the council not declared martial law?” It was a city term but I had no doubt he would understand it, Learneth had been a city fort and had adopted our political system in miniature, which was common enough.

  “Didn't you hear me, man? The council is broken, divided. There is no law here but that of our own arms and will to protect our own.”

  A ripple of interest passed through the men in front of us; they nudged each other and pointed off to one side; over the space of a few moments their attention focused away from us. I glanced that way, as did the men we were speaking to, and saw a group of men gathering at the edge of the pens across the road and a little closer to the city walls. Their interest was in us and they were armed with spears and clubs. I could see them clearly now the rain had ended and made out one sword among them and two wearing chain hauberks and helms. A quick head count gave me a number. Thirty-two men, and so clearly preparing to move against us that they might as well have worn signs proclaiming their intent. I glanced back to see Sapphire and Dannat had turned to face them, still mounted and weapons ready, the women and children behind. There was no time left for talk, and sometimes actions speak louder than words.

  “Come,” I told Jek and made haste over the slippery ground to join our own even as the attackers began to move our way. Behind us Pradas called an instruction to 'warn the others,' telling me clearly that the eighteen men we had seen at the barricade were not alone. There was no doubt in my mind what we must do, but no guarantee that it would have the desired result either. Still, I thought as I climbed into the saddle of the horse Jocasta held for me, one had to start somew
here and this is where we were.

  “We move away fast,” I ordered and put words to action. We were clumped close and it took a few moments to negotiate space to kick the mounts to speed. The attackers closed the distance but not fast enough, howling insults as we galloped clear of them. As soon as I was sure they could not catch us I drew rein and called a halt, turning my mount in a tight circle to see what transpired. As I'd guessed, the enemy had already changed course to attack the barricade of Pradas and Drant, which had been their original intent.

  “And now?” Sapphire asked calmly.

  “Dubaku, Jocasta, Rian, keep the children here till this is done.” I didn't wait for answers but instead began to walk my mount back the way we had come, watching a surprisingly coherent and determined attack unfold. I drew my sword and waved to indicate my men should form a line. To my right Jek came abreast of me, and to the left Sapphire and Dannat.

  “We will take them in the rear and break them if we can. If they set spears, draw rein and look to the flanks,” I ordered, watching as we came slowly toward my target. One of the men in armor was walking up and down the line, either facing us more or less or partly with his back to us. His men were two deep at the barricade, the second line thrusting hard with long spears to keep the enemy back and let the first rank climb. He was urging them on, watching for slackers and giving them an earful where needed. He was busy but managed as well to keep an eye on us. He glanced our way every third second even when his back was to us and I marked it. As soon as he turned away I gave the order, “Now,” and kicked back my heels. Mud and clods of earth flew as our mounts' hooves dug into the earth and together we gathered pace to a gallop in the seconds he was not looking our way. Still we had closed no more than half the distance before he knew we were coming; then he faced us boldly and snapped crisp orders. His men fell back a pace from the barricade, disengaging easily from the fight, and the rear rank turned, set the butt of their spears into the earth and crouched so that we would run onto them should we continue.