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

by Chris Northern

  #

  “There will be nothing left alive in there now,” Meran said.

  I washed the filth from my body in the cold waters of the river as waves of warm air washed over me from the burning town. The night was alive with its light, the air full of rising smoke and sparks that spun and drifted in the swirling air. To one side of me the bridge was packed with people, guided across in droves by my soldiers. It hadn't taken long to shift the emphasis of their attack as soon as Sapphire had guided me to them.

  I took care for my balance in the racing waters, chilled to the bone and gasping but determined to be clean. Meran and the commanders of my maniple stood in an island of calm on the gently sloping bank of the river, backlit by the raging inferno that had been Learneth. Sapphire squatted on the bank not more than two feet away, watching me calmly. I had the impression he was ready to grab and support me should I completely lose my footing, which is something I struggled more or less constantly not to do.

  “That is where she was,” I said. “Find out where she is now.”

  “The centurions have put out the word already,” Meran responded calmly. “There is a lot of movement but the men well know who they are looking for. Each road will be checked and my men will question everyone, given time. We will hear word by dawn, or before if we are lucky.”

  I carefully refrained from nodding. My thoughts were spinning badly enough as it was.

  “You are clean enough,” Sapphire said.

  I'll never be clean enough. How many children were crushed in the crowds? How many choked on smoke and died before they could get out of buildings that burned? How many of them burned alive?

  I staggered half a step as I turned in the knee-deep water. As I caught my balance I stopped myself from shaking my head to deny everything, stopped myself from saying any word of what I was thinking. Instead I inched my way to the bank and climbed out onto the rough stones there, watching my bare feet and picking where I placed them with as much care and precision as I could force into my movements. Sapphire gave me a towel and I began to dry myself.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Your trail ended at Darklake,” Meran said. “I knew that there was a force following us and it seemed a good time to deal with them; two thousand Alendi attacked us joined by men from Darklake. We repulsed the attack. I'd had the men build a fort tight against the lake, opposite the town. We were attacked again in the night in greater force; two kinds of beast were among the attackers. Duprane's creatures.” He shrugged. “I knew from the stories what to expect of them and had an idea of their numbers. The next day the Alendi army fell on us in a coordinated attack supported by Darklake and Duprane. It was fierce fighting but we prevailed. I then sacked Darklake and made it a base of operations while I sent out scouts to try and pick up your trail, and to monitor the scattered forces of the Alendi. I also moved against Duprane; there is a stone fort there, ours now. Duprane escaped but we rescued dozens of hostages; wives and children of clan chieftains; dozens of them.”

  “You let them go?”

  “No, I have them as my guests,” he said.

  “Good.” Among them would be Dannat's sisters, and his wife and children, no doubt. The rest might be useful bargaining pieces or tokens of goodwill, later. “Anything else?”

  “Money. Quite a lot of it at Darklake and the keep in Duprane's lands. It's secure. There were minor skirmishes still, but nothing we couldn't handle. During one of these Sapphire came with your orders. We arrived here to find Learneth burning. I ordered an attack anyway with specific instructions that only those who opposed us with arms were to be harmed, and specifically that you should be sought out if you were present,” he gestured to the refugees crossing the bridge. “That operation is nearly complete.”

  I made the mistake of nodding and lost my balance, sitting down heavily on a rock, guided there by hard hands and strong arms.

  “You need to rest,” Sapphire said, his face intent, gaze meeting mine, hands on my arms.

  I shifted my weight, spread my feet and straightened my back until I was sure I could sit on the rock without falling off it. The firelight flickered over his face in random patterns of light and shadow.

  “No,” I said. “Get me some clothes, a sword and a horse.”

  He straightened and stepped away; grabbing a pile of clothes taken from some soldier's pack, he half turned and tossed them into my lap before walking away.

  “I'll need stone from one of the healers or your battle mage.”

  “They are tending the hurt,” Meran said.

  I looked up at him; his face was in shadow and I couldn't read his expression. “They will have more stone with them than they need. Promise them payment in my name or if that isn't damn well good enough use my father's name, but get it done.”

  He nodded. “What do you plan?”

  “As soon as I know which way they went I'm going after them. You are staying here. Get these people fed and sheltered. Protect them from any threat. Keep them safe. All of them.”

  Meran twisted at the waist to look back at the ruin I had made of Learneth, then turned back to me. “It will be as you order, Patron. There are few horses. I assume you mean to move fast. I can't send many men with you and still accomplish your orders.”

  “I guessed as much. It doesn't matter.” I'd been staring at the flaming ruin of Learneth, squinting into the bright light reflected back down off the clouds of smoke that rose of the burning town. “What happened?”

  “Patron?”

  I looked away from him, down at the clothes laying in my lap, at the towel held loose in my hands. Slowly I began to move, drying my legs, then giving up the task, as leaning forward made my head spin and threaten to throw me from my perch. Meran was there in a moment, steadying me with a hand on one arm then kneeling in front of me. “Allow me, Sumto,” he murmured. I let him help, tears dripping unnoticed from my eyes.

  I tried to think as he worked on my legs and feet, pulling on dry stockings and then helping me with the trousers like a mother assisting her invalid child. It was hard to think. Hard to keep one thing in mind, and when I could manage that it was the wrong thing. Dying children came too often to mind.

  “Tahal and the other one,” I couldn't remember the Necromancer's name, “they headed your way with a troop of warriors. What happened to them?” A fragmented memory drifted to mind; Tahal, leaning over me, speaking to me. I dismissed the ghost memory and concentrated on Meran's answer.

  “I had no reports of that. When was this?”

  I told him.

  “I'll check with my men, but I would have heard.”

  “You did well,” I told him. “I could almost believe you had commanded men before.”

  He met my gaze. “No, patron. The city doesn't make slaves of enemy chieftains.”

  No. We kill them, of course. Too risky to have leaders of men left alive to ferment rebellion.

  “You've changed,” I told him.

  “We all change. Wasn't it you who said that there is nothing so certain as change?”

  “Was it?” It could have been. A lot of things could have been. I could have stayed home and read books and drank too much and gambled recklessly. I could have lived my whole life and never killed or harmed anyone. When this thing was done I would try and go back to that equally pointless but less harmful life. If I could stand it. But first I would find Jocasta and bring her out of this mess; I would free her and tell her what I had done. And she would hate me. Gods knew, I hated myself.

  I put it aside. There were things that needed doing. Sick and dizzy, I tried to do them. “Get these people somewhere safe. Feed them, clothe them, shelter them. Keep them from harm. Take them to Darklake. Make the merchant,” I couldn't remember his name, “build his trading post there. The pass will make money.” The fire from the town was hot on my face, the crackling roar of its death throes loud in my ears. “They are going to need money. The orphans. The children.” I forgot what I was saying and my at
tention drifted. The river ran close by and I watched the dancing light on its surface.

  “You need to rest. Head wounds are dangerous.”

  I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Then it came back to me and I raised one hand to gently touch my head where two wounds had been stitched and bandaged by one of the healers, who had refused to try and do more than relieve the pressure on my brain. He'd used his craft and trepanned my skull in two places. I had two coin-sized holes in my skull covered only by healing flesh and bandages that were soaked in blood. I wished he could have gone into my brain and taken some of the memories away. A flash of swirling skirts. The skittering of a dropped child across hard cobbles suddenly obscured by flashing legs and trampling feet. Either of those I'd rather be without.

  “Here,” Meran took my arm gently and fed it into the sleeve of a shirt.

  I concentrated on putting on the shirt and then a tunic.

  “You need to rest.”

  I didn't answer. There would be no rest for me. None.

  “Find out which way they went. They will have secured a way out. He said to do it but I don't remember which gate. Get me a horse.”

  Meran sighed. The sound made me angry and I grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled myself to my feet; I grabbed the back of his head and pushed my face close to his and stared into his eyes. “I'm going after her. Do you understand me? Now get me a horse. Do it now.” I pushed him away.

  I turned and climbed the bank where someone grabbed and steadied my arm. I pushed the soldier away.

  “I don't need any help,” I said.

  I turned away. Made dizzy by the movement, I staggered and fell to one knee, catching my balance with one hand flat to the ground. I steadied myself and got to my feet, stepping past the soldiers who moved aside for me. Sapphire was there in front of me, mounted and leading a second horse. Behind him someone else sat a third beast. I recognized him. It was Dubaku. I didn't meet his eyes. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to talk to him.

  I took the reins of the horse Sapphire held for me. I staggered and gripped the bridle. The horse lifted its head, snorted and sidestepped into me. Pulling myself into the saddle took all the strength I had but I made it. I would be better on the horse. It was tired and covered in sweat. I knew how it felt. I'd be better on the horse, I thought. Better now. Better now I was moving.

  “They went north,” Sapphire said. “Dubaku followed them to the gate, found horses. He was looking for you when he found me.”

  I turned the horse to walk alongside Sapphire's mount and let it have its own way, set its own pace. “Good,” I said. “That's good.”

  I didn't look back to see if Dubaku heard me. I didn't look back to see if he followed. I hoped that he would not.

  #

  It was hard going. The horses Sapphire had found were tired and I was unsteady in the saddle; I couldn't seem to match my movements to the pace of the horse even at a walk. Sapphire solved the problem by tying me into the saddle. The rope gave a tug and forced me to adjust my balance often, a constant irritant tight around my waist. After a time I simply gripped the saddle horn, leaving the reins loose, feeling the line wrapped around it with the taut and slack movement under my thumbs; I let others set the pace. The world drifted in and out of focus, bushes, trees and hills flickered and danced spasmodically in an eerie reflected light that lay behind us. Above us the clouds glowed in a fading sea to darkness far away. Sometimes I thought about what that meant. Sometimes I tried not to. Time jumped and twisted oddly. I felt a belt under my hands and glanced down to find a sheath and sword also hanging from the pommel. I remembered someone passing it to me; maybe just a moment ago. I looked around. Sapphire rode on my right, his attention ahead of us and constantly moving as he searched the night for threats, half his face illuminated by an ethereal silver light. To my left a shadowy figure rode close by. I recognized him. We'd spoken once before, and again just recently. The sounds of a dozen walking horses suddenly grabbed my attention, washing through my mind, over-loud in sensitive ears. I started to turn and look around, but a sudden wave of dizziness dissuaded me as the line tugged at my waist and held. We weren't alone. Riders had caught up to us, I remembered, men sent to me by Meran.

  The figure who rode beside me turned his head my way, his attention caught by my injudicious movement. I could see his face full on now, even though it was slightly in shadow, slightly lit by a feint orange glow that flickered oddly. I remembered where I had met him. In the camp of my Uncle an age ago. He'd taught me a spell. I tried to remember the shape of the spell and my head throbbed alarmingly. I gave it up hurriedly and his name drifted to the surface like the detritus of a shipwreck.

  “Balaran,” I said.

  “Sumto Merian Ichatha Cerulian,” he said with a smile. It sounded like an awful lot of name to describe me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He studied my face carefully before he answered. “Your uncle asked me to demote myself and travel with your man Meran, putting myself at his disposal and yours when needed.”

  “You are a battle mage,” I reminded him. “Three colleges.”.

  He inclined his head. “At your disposal, patron.”

  I looked front and adjusted my balance again. “Good,” I said to myself. “We might need you.”

  “Indeed.”

  I remembered now. We had travelled maybe an hour, and slowly. The sound of horses coming on behind us had made Sapphire turn about and scan the road behind. I'd barely noticed. Balaran had come to join us. He had brought a sword, eight soldiers. He'd brought stone but refused to give it to me for fear I might attempt to use it. He had relayed his orders; to travel with me and obey mine, “but remember that I too am a noble and a mage and may choose not to obey you,” he had added. That seemed wise. After all, what kind of fool would follow my orders?

  I turned back to him. “I'm not myself.”

  “I know,” Balaran said. “You should rest. It doesn't help much but it does stop you doing yourself further harm.”

  I didn't much care about that. There was something more important.

  It seemed that we looked at each other for a long time, then my attention wandered and my gaze drifted and found the horse's head directly in front of me, nodding gently. Maybe the horse was wiser than I..

  #

  I awoke on the cold, hard ground, surrounded by the light of a false dawn and wondering where I was and how I'd gotten there. I looked around me as I sat up carefully, unwrapping myself from a swaddle of blankets. There were horses close by, and men to roughly the same number scattered about two fires. I recognized Sapphire even though his back was to me; he stood a little way off, facing south where a thick pall of smoke was splashed across the sky, moving gently in an easy breeze and looking far more benign than it was.

  I came to my feet with care and Sapphire turned to watch me as I moved to stand by him and look back at the evidence of what I'd wrought. I didn't want to talk about it; instead I glanced at Sapphire, snagging his attention and meeting his calm, cold eyes.

  “Do you ever sleep?”

  His lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “Yes, but I don't have to. It's a trick my teachers imposed on me long ago. I can rest while awake,” he shrugged.”It's hard to explain... different from being fully awake, but there are times when half awake will save you from not waking.”

  He had pitched his voice for my ears only. Almost a whisper. Sharing a secret.

  I turned back to watch the drifting evidence of what was left of Learneth. “I made a bloody mess, didn't I?”

  He shrugged. “Life is messy.”

  “And brutal? And short? And unfair? Children died in that fire. I have the blood of children on my hands.”

  He shrugged again but didn't answer.

  After a moment I knew why. So did he, and far more intimately than I.

  “We had better be moving,” I said, using the words to smother the unwanted images that raced t
hrough my mind.

  “Yes,” he said. “It's better if you keep moving. Better than the alternative, at least.”

  #

  The village where Jek had been headman was deserted apart from a single goat that wouldn't voluntarily come down from the roof it had made its roost. One of the soldiers brought it down with a javelin. It didn't take long to dress the animal and cook what we needed. I hadn't ordered the cast but it seemed churlish to waste the animal when it was dead.

  I didn't eat, sure that my stomach wouldn't tolerate food; especially meat; especially meat that had been a living thing not long since. Instead I padded about the village with blurred vision and a layer of memories adding to the mix, avoiding the fresh fire and the old one where Dubaku had burned the Necromancer. I didn't want to be too aware of fires, they stirred up a mixture of emotions where horror and fear predominated. I was struggling to keep my resolve and my mind focused on my sole objective. Jocasta. Maybe she would forgive me. Maybe if she did I could begin to forgive myself.

  Dubaku and I surprised each other as I came round the corner of a house. I lost my balance as I came to a halt in front of him, staggered and caught myself on the wall with one hand. He had also stopped. We looked at each other for a moment that seemed endless. I guessed his motives for being away from the cooking meat were the same as mine. I let go of the wall, nodded without speaking and turned back the way I'd come.

  I hadn't been able to read his expression.

  I wondered what he had been able to read from mine.

  I walked to the river and stood on the bridge, facing north, looking down into the waters.

  No one came for me until it was time to move on and Sapphire brought my horse.

  #

  The road was empty now but there was plenty of evidence that people had passed in a hurry; discarded goods littered the roadside. We didn't pass a single farm that still had livestock or people. The first evidence of life was at the end of the broad way that marked where a city road had run from Learneth. A little over a mile ahead, Hederan squatted sullenly on the banks of the river. The town looked as Learneth had. A stone town built on the skeleton of a city fort. Along either side of the road figures hung impaled at set intervals, forming a grim processional.