by Tom Lloyd
Dead or damned, Narin thought hollowly. Whatever he knows, it’s enough to mean I’m his to be used or Vanden’s to be murdered.
‘You’ve made your point,’ Narin muttered.
‘Yes, I rather think I have.’ Sorote offered him a shallow bow. ‘Now I shall leave you to your urgent business, Master Narin. I wish you luck with your investigation and should you ever need my assistance … Well, we may run into one another again. Good day.’
Chapter 8
The Greater Empire lasted almost a millennium before it was overthrown by a united strike of three Great Houses, now called the Ten Day War, and became the Lesser Empire. That the mere downgrading of an adjective is deemed sufficient to express the catastrophic loss of life incurred in those days is a stain on the souls of all historians.
From A History by Ayel Sorote
Kesh ascended the stair quickly, intent on confronting the man responsible for her sister’s death, but as she neared the door she faltered. The woman, Sheti, waited for her in silence, fingers interlocked as though to stop herself wringing her hands. The sight drained Kesh’s resolve further as guilt blossomed in her heart. She looked nothing like Kesh’s mother, Teike, but they were both middle-aged natives of the city – it could have been her mother’s apron the woman wore, and her clothes as well except for the more generous proportions of Sheti.
‘Mistress Sheti,’ Kesh said with a small curtsey. Formality came uneasily to Kesh, but it was preferable to an awkward, apprehensive silence.
‘Your name is Kesh ?’ Sheti inquired gently. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. You, ah, you’re caught up in whatever this is too ?’
Kesh’s face tightened and she gave a curt nod. ‘You have Master Tokene Shadow in there ?’
The name elicited a blank look from Sheti. ‘Mebbe,’ she said. ‘He claims not to know his own name, but he’s certainly of House Shadow.’ She hesitated. ‘That’s what his tattoo says, anyway.’
‘He doesn’t know his own name ?’ Kesh demanded, a spark of anger awakening in her belly. ‘And you believe him ?’
‘I believe my friends,’ Sheti said, ‘but I’ve reserved judgement.’ She held out her hand. ‘Please, give me your knife.’
‘What ? No ! There are people trying to kill me,’ Kesh almost shouted. She pointed at the half-open door beside Sheti. ‘Friends of his are trying to kill me – one of them cornered me in an alley and almost …’ Her voice dropped and she looked down at her hands, one now bandaged. ‘I barely got away alive, I can only hope my mother got my message and escaped our house in time.’
‘Then you only convince me more of his honesty,’ Sheti said firmly, hand still outstretched. ‘I’ve been watching over the man for most of the day. If he had anywhere to go – anyone to go to or anything to hide from – he’d have managed it, injured or not. I’m not going to stand in the way of some goshe assassin if he wants to escape ; I like my blood where it is, thank you very much.’
Kesh didn’t have anything to say to that, but under Sheti’s determined look she felt herself wilt. The set of the woman’s jaw was all too familiar and before she’d even realised it, Kesh was reaching for her father’s knife. She pulled the weapon from her coat pocket and stared at it.
Uncle Horote would be angry, she thought distantly, realising a quick wipe was all she’d thought to give the blade. Its surface was spotted and streaked with half-dried blood, the metal stained red-brown and the leather grip tacky under her fingers. He always said to keep it clean, always clean.
Horote had been a close friend of her father’s, the man who’d taken Kesh under his wing as she saw out the rest of her father’s term of service, rather than give up the boarding house they’d bought with his bond money. He was still on the merchant line now, first mate on a fast cutter that did the spice run to Sight’s End. She held the weapon out and Sheti took it delicately between forefinger and thumb.
Of course Horote wouldn’t be angry, Kesh corrected herself. I’m alive, that bastard goshe isn’t – Horote would bloody well be proud. Remember that, you stupid girl !
‘Thank you,’ Sheti said as she bundled the weapon up in her apron. ‘Shall we go in now ?’
Kesh followed her into Narin’s living quarters. One half was taken up by a stove and table while on the right was a low bed and a battered pair of captain’s chairs. A lean grey-haired man lounged in one, a bowl of milky liquid in his hands, while a larger man, apparently naked bar his bandages, occupied the bed. She stopped in the doorway, hardly daring to go further as the younger man’s battered face looked blankly up at her.
It was him, there could be no doubt. Kesh found herself holding her breath as fear and rage clashed inside her, but then she noticed the change about him. Master Tokene Shadow it was, but something was changed about him.
They had spoken little during his stay at the boarding house – the guests would come and go as they pleased and he hadn’t been one of those looking for a substitute family. Tokene would eat with the rest only occasionally and never lingered to talk to either Emari or Kesh. In her memory he moved with purpose, always moving and always alone even in a crowd.
But there he lay, propped against the wall and looking up at her with a faintly pathetic look of hopefulness. Gone was the swagger, the arrogance and self-assurance. Gone was the sense of purpose, too – the man now looked lost, and without it he was diminished.
‘Irato,’ Kesh muttered, to herself more than anyone else. ‘That’s what they called you.’
‘What ?’ demanded the grey-haired one, pushing himself to his feet. ‘You know his name ?’
Kesh nodded. ‘Who’re you ?’
‘Enchei – friend o’ Narin’s.’
She turned to look him up and down. He was clearly fit and strong for his age, but the wrong side of fifty and had hardly ever been anything impressive. Only a little taller than Kesh, her designated protector wasn’t even armed.
‘You’re Enchei ?’ she said scornfully. ‘If this man’s friends send another assassin after me, you’re going to keep me safe ?’
He grinned, quite unruffled by her disbelief. ‘Mebbe,’ he replied. ‘Most folk tend to underestimate me – I guess that’ll go for assassins as well.’
‘Who’re you ?’ the man in the bed asked. ‘What did you call me ?’
Kesh turned to face him. The goshe hadn’t moved from where he was. For a moment she debated what to do – whether to snatch up a kitchen knife or go for the long-knife lying under the foot of the bed – but in the end she did neither. As great as her hatred was, she wanted answers now ; the moment for wrath had gone and in its place was a numb emptiness.
‘You think I’m buying this memory loss rubbish ?’
‘Who are you ?’
Kesh lunged forward, but before she could grab his throat the old man had caught her arm in an immovable grip. She swung around to try and batter him away, but his arm was as hard as oak when she slammed her fist down onto it. Kesh gasped in pain as she flailed and tried to haul her arm free, but it did no good. After a few moments more she stopped and sagged, drained by her efforts throughout this long day.
Enchei didn’t release her straight away, but used his hold to turn her around so he could look Kesh in the eye.
‘Believe it or not, it’s true.’
‘How in hell’s crater do you know that ?’
He paused. ‘You a pious girl ?’
‘What ? What’s that got to do with anything ?’
Enchei shrugged. ‘I’ve learned a lot over the years, picked up some tricks some priests might disapprove of.’
‘The Gods weren’t what kept me alive today,’ Kesh said angrily, jerking her arm out of his hand as Enchei relaxed his grip. ‘It was a pack of bloody demons that saved me, so I just got a lot less pious.’
He cocked his head at that, looking curious. ‘Sounds like a tale worth hearing. In the meantime though, you’d probably call it heathen magic. I can’t look into his mind or anything, but there are spirits in th
is world that can brush the surface at least – tell me if anything’s happened to him. This man’s been poisoned, I can tell that much, and it’s torn up his memory something proper.’
‘Poisoned ?’ Kesh said hollowly, recalling what she’d overheard at the free hospital. ‘A poison that took his mind – is it called Moon’s Artifice ?’
Enchei frowned. ‘Sounds like you know more than me. I’ve never heard that name before, what is it ?’
‘It’s what he,’ Kesh snapped, pointing at Irato, ‘had in his bloody sea-chest – it leaked out and poisoned my sister. His friends murdered her when I took her to the goshe hospital. They said her mind was gone and they should just kill her.’
‘Sister ?’ Irato echoed in dismay. ‘Friends of mine ?’
She saw now he was exhausted and dazed, uncoordinated as though drunk and feeling the weight of her glare like the heat of a fire. Kesh edged closer towards him, glad she had him off-balance and determined to exploit it.
‘Recognise the name Perel ? Father Jehq ?’
He shook his head miserably, pressing the fingers of his free hand against his temple so hard the skin around them went white. ‘I can’t remember anything – the more I try, the more it hurts.’
‘You think I care how much it hurts ?’ Kesh demanded, ‘I’d gladly cut the answers out of you if I could !’
His hand dropped back down to his lap. ‘Right now I’d let you,’ he said, ‘if I thought it’d do any good. I don’t know what else to say. I just don’t remember, I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry ?’
She lunged forward again, caught this time rather more gently by Enchei who wrapped his arm around her waist and patiently held on until she stopped straining against him.
‘You think sorry’s good enough ? My sister’s dead, your friends sent assassins to kill my mother – I didn’t dare go there myself in case they saw me. I had to send someone else to warn my own damn mother that she had to flee for her life ! But you’re sorry ?’
Kesh sank down to her knees, supported only by Enchei as the strength suddenly drained from her limbs.
‘Right, enough of all that,’ Enchei said briskly, lifting her up and manoeuvring her into the seat he’d been occupying. ‘You’re as exhausted as he is, famished too I’m guessing. Revenge doesn’t come on an empty stomach, I’ve found ; you need your strength for it. Sit here a moment and I’ll fetch you something, okay ?’
Kesh managed a nod as she slumped in the chair, eyes still on Irato but too tired to feel much of her earlier hate. When Enchei returned with a wooden bowl overflowing with stew she wasted no time in filling her belly.
As Kesh ate, Sheti took the other seat and Enchei pulled a stool from under the table, positioning it in the middle of the room so he could watch both the closed door and her.
‘So Moon’s Artifice is a poison, eh ?’ he commented while Kesh was draining the last of the stew.
She nodded, too busy to reply.
‘And most likely Irato here was carrying some – would explain all the glass Narin found in the street, then.’
‘What street ?’ Kesh asked.
‘Somewhere in the Dragon District, he heard a noise and thought Irato was attacking him. Turns out he’d fallen off a roof while fleeing something.’
‘Fleeing what ?’
Enchei snorted. ‘Mebbe a God if you believe they’re easy to run from ; more likely one o’ your demons I’d guess.’
‘More than one,’ Kesh corrected after a moment’s pause. ‘The man they sent after me – the bodyguard of Father Jehq – he killed several foxes with ease. He wouldn’t be running from just one.’
Enchei inclined his head to acknowledge her point. ‘The question is – what would matter so greatly to a tribe of demons that they’re willing to lose so many vessels in the pursuit of it ?’
‘Vessels ?’
Enchei nodded. ‘Those foxes aren’t the demons ; it’s what’s inhabiting their minds. The demon’s harder to kill than just cutting the head off a fox, but it doesn’t mean they’ll waste the bodies without good reason.’
‘Enchei, how is it you know all this about demons ?’ Sheti interjected.
He grinned. ‘People round here would think the place I grew up was pretty backward. We had temples to the Gods, but it was remote – where the mountain line met the shore. Places like that, you’ll get demons and spirits o’ all kinds. Without shamans they’ll circle your village like hungry wolves around a herd of deer. In a city they’re much rarer and they keep clear mostly, but they’ve no fear out in the dark wilds.’
‘You’re a shaman ?’ Kesh asked in disbelief.
‘I was a hunter, then an army scout,’ Enchei countered, ‘but I got the sight sure enough. I can read the spirits and hear the demon-voices on the wind. Blasphemy or heresy don’t mean much when some spirit’s got a mind to feed on your soul or creep into your mind.’
‘What’s all this got to do with me ?’ Irato broke in, still sounding weak. ‘A demon did this to me ? A God ? Why would I be carrying a poison that could destroy my memory ?’
‘I’m guessing that’s not what it’s for,’ Enchei said, ‘doesn’t sound a whole lot of use for that, not without raising suspicions. If it was just one dose you kept to shut folk up, witnesses or whatever, I could see it, but enough to poison a little girl with what you left at home too ? It leaked out of his sea-chest, you said ?’
Kesh nodded. ‘There was a lot I think, Emari fell while trying to take the chest downstairs, I heard the broken glass inside it. There must have been enough inside it for dozens of people to be dosed.’
Footsteps came from the walkway outside. Before anyone else could move, Enchei had casually risen and slipped his fingers around the grip of a large kitchen knife left out on the table. ‘Narin ?’ he called.
‘It’s me,’ the Investigator confirmed, ducking briefly at the open window to glance in before he reached the door beside it and came in. ‘All good here ?’
‘Just getting acquainted,’ Enchei said with a small smile. ‘You ?’
Narin glanced guiltily back towards the closed gate of the compound. ‘I’ve no idea. Think I’ve just been threatened, but with the upper classes who can bloody tell ?’
‘Ready for some good news then ?’
Narin looked surprised at that but he nodded readily enough, closing the door behind him and propping his stave against the wall as he surveyed the faces in the room. ‘Been ready for days now,’ he muttered.
‘Mistress Kesh there might have found your moon, of a fashion anyway,’ Enchei said cryptically. ‘If you’re still interested ?’
‘What ? You didn’t mention that at the Palace of Law,’ Narin said, rounding on Kesh.
‘I only just remembered, it’s what they called the poison that took Emari’s mind – Moon’s Artifice,’ she said hotly, staring him down until Narin remembered himself and backed off a shade. ‘Maybe his mind too, if you believe your friend here.’
‘Gods ! Yes, you’re awake !’ Narin exclaimed, clearly distracted enough that he’d not even had time for his thoughts to catch up with events. ‘Wait, what about your mind ?’
‘He can’t remember anything,’ Enchei supplied. ‘Not his name, where he came from, what he was doing out on that street or who his friends are.’
Narin hesitated, staring at Irato as though a hard look would change matters. The muscular goshe matched his gaze but could say nothing further, pained helplessness on his face. ‘Nothing ?’
Irato shook his head.
‘He’s not lying, I’m sure,’ Enchei added.
‘So that’s what Lord Shield meant,’ Narin breathed after a long moment of thought.
‘Shield ?’ Irato croaked. ‘What’s Lord Shield got to do with this ?’
Narin glanced at Sheti and Enchei. ‘You haven’t told him ?’
‘I thought it best he hear everything from you,’ Sheti said firmly, ‘and now seems as good a time as any.’
The Investigato
r grimaced, as though the idea made him feel physically sick. ‘Everything ?’ he echoed. ‘Stars above, I don’t even know where to begin.’
Curls of orange cloud flecked the western horizon of a darkening, striated sky. The Gods shone bright in the evening light – the Order of Knight slowly wheeling through its allotted month of dominion. Shield remained in ascendance and there were a few days more before star’s turn, when Lady Pity would assume her place at the fore of the Order’s nightly march across the sky. Behind the Gods only a handful of other stars were visible yet, the sky still not fully dark after sunset.
‘You know,’ Enchei said as he and Narin looked up at the night sky, ‘when I first got here, the world seemed to make more sense.’
‘Here ?’ Narin looked around. The compound was peaceful and still, but the city beyond, with its markets and gambling dens, was often chaotic and incomprehensible to most. ‘How’s that then ?’
Enchei pointed up to the stars. ‘It’s Shield’s Ascendancy across the Empire, everyone knows that and everyone lives by it. But you try living somewhere distant. You live by the Imperial calendar and you know the date, but it doesn’t look right from where you are in the world. Shield doesn’t look ascendant when you’re in some far corner of the Empire, Pity does.’ The grey-haired man shrugged. ‘Just saying ; the known world turns around this city. You look inward from the edges, things looks different.’
Narin shook his head. ‘Not much makes sense to me right now.’
Enchei offered over his pipe and Narin took it, drawing in a long breath of the silky-smooth smoke.
‘Even without this damn goshe and a dead little girl, I’m lost at the moment.’
Enchei gave a fatalistic shrug. ‘How about this Prince Sorote of yours ? Ever heard the name before ? The Office of the Catacombs means nothing to me.’
Narin shook his head. ‘But there are dozens of small fiefdoms surrounding the Imperial court, some ancient or extinct, others just names for some minor royal trying to carve themselves a little piece of power around the court. With the Houses always ready to go to war with each other, someone needs to broker between them I suppose, but what one wants with me I’ve no idea – except he was asking about Rhe.’