Moon's Artifice

by Tom Lloyd

  The Lawbringers hesitated. It was a woman, barely out of her teens, with a raised welt on her cheek from where Rhe had struck her. For a moment no one spoke or moved but then she seemed to recover herself and looked up at Narin.

  ‘I die a warrior,’ she announced as she pulled a dagger from her belt.

  Rhe started forward, arm reaching back to hurl his stave, but it was too late. The woman never took her gaze off Narin as she wrenched the blade across her throat. Blood cascaded out across the pale wooden floor of the training room and, a look of momentary agony on her face, she pitched forward. Rhe ran forward and put one foot on the knife in her hand as he turned her over, but it was immediately clear that the wound was fatal and he stepped back.

  ‘Gods,’ breathed Orel. ‘They would rather die than be taken, but they’re just low born !’

  Narin didn’t dare look at him, for fear he’d break his stave over the youth’s head.

  You think cutting your own throat’s reserved to the higher castes ? he wanted to scream at Orel. All you need’s the guts to do it – guts I doubt you have.

  ‘The goshe welcome all castes,’ Rhe said, as though in explanation to Orel. ‘Do not assume anything.’

  Narin watched the blood spread out from her prostrate body, pooling around her head like a dark halo. It was the first time he had seen such a thing and, though the horror of suicide left him sickened, Narin’s mind lingered on the look on her face as she had done it. There had been a perfect moment of purpose in her face ; of calmness and resolve that was its own horror.

  Narin shook his head and kicked away the nearest of the weapons at his feet. The plaited goshe was motionless at his feet and when he rolled the body over he felt a jolt in his stomach. Another woman, her cheek crumpled inward and her eye a bloodied ruin. His chest tightened at the realisation, his hands shaking as he tried to feel for a pulse. For a moment there was nothing other than the twitch of his fingers against her throat, but at last he felt something pulse weakly under her skin. It took a long time for a second beat, but at last he felt it and looked up with a sense of relief.

  ‘She lives ?’ Rhe asked, standing up again from where he’d been crouched at the Shure master’s side.

  Narin opened his mouth to reply, then realised all was still under his fingers. He looked back down again and adjusted the position, but still there was nothing. It hit him like a punch to the gut. He turned her face so he could see the undamaged side of it and was stuck by the delicacy of her features. Skin not so dark as Kine’s, but for a moment Narin saw his lover’s face superimposed on the dead woman’s and he almost moaned at the thought. Kine was no soldier, but if her husband discovered she was pregnant by another man, Wyvern tradition dictated she should be garrotted.

  ‘She’s dead,’ he whispered, head bowed.

  Rhe grunted. ‘She was armed, you had no choice.’

  He looked up, eyes wide. ‘That’s supposed to make me feel better ? Look at her, she’s barely old enough to be married and now she’s dead.’

  ‘And that was her choice.’ Rhe frowned at Narin. ‘I had not thought you so squeamish as this.’

  ‘Squeamish ? I just killed a woman !’

  Rhe glanced towards the half-open doorway where the first goshe was sprawled. Face covered by a mask, Narin saw that one was similarly slight of build. ‘Most likely so did I, but their sex makes no difference.’

  ‘You really think that ?’ Narin gasped.

  ‘They were trained to fight,’ Rhe said simply, ‘taught to kill just as high-caste women may be instructed in the arts of pistol, spear and dagger. There is no dishonour in death, only the killing of those unable to defend themselves.’

  Narin felt deflated by his disbelief. From the faces of the others he could see he was the only one to even be given pause by such a thing.

  ‘Not all of us grew up thinking that way,’ he muttered. ‘Not all of us grew up in your world. Where I’m from, women don’t get much chance to fight back. Only cowards hurt them.’

  Rhe inclined his head. ‘Most noblewomen do not choose to learn how to fight and the Gods themselves have decreed violence upon them to be a crime equal to heresy, but these goshe were not such women.’

  Narin turned away, knowing he’d not win this argument – knowing Rhe could not even conceive there was an argument to be had.

  ‘Are any of them alive ?’

  ‘One at least,’ Rhe said, looking down at the larger goshe he’d rendered unconscious. ‘The Shure master is dead, but I suspect he would have told us nothing anyway.’

  ‘This one also,’ Shoten said from the side of another, pressing a cloth against his opponent’s wounded shoulder. The goshe he knelt over appeared to have passed out from the pain. ‘They were after you, Investigator Narin,’ Shoten continued. ‘Why ?’

  Narin blinked. ‘I … I don’t know. What he said didn’t make any sense ; he was trying to determine which of us knew Kesh the most.’

  ‘And you revealed yourself at the first opportunity,’ Rhe observed sternly. ‘Yet again your rashness almost proves your undoing.’

  Narin ducked his head at the admonishment, realising the mistake he’d made. After all this time in Rhe’s lee, he should have known better.

  ‘The man takes all the blame on his own shoulders, isolating the crime to this Shure only – that I understand, but wanting to kill Narin specifically ?’ Shoten left Orel to continue ministering to the injured goshe and stood to give Narin a curious look. ‘But why would they believe killing you could affect the investigation ? Is there information you have withheld ?’

  Narin found himself backing away. ‘Of course not !’ he protested, but his words seemed to have little effect.

  ‘Investigator Orel,’ Rhe said as he went to fetch and reload his pistol, ‘watch these two while we check the rest of the building.’

  He didn’t bother to holster his gun once it was reloaded, merely wiped a trace of blood from the brass decoration and cocked it as he headed for the half-open door.

  Narin followed dumbly, sparing one last look at the woman he’d killed without even trying. The street behind them, through the open panel, was completely empty – the gunshot had cleared it quickly enough. A slanting shaft of sunlight cut across the street and down through the open wall section to settle on the tip of the axe he’d kicked away. The sight made him hesitate as though it was a message from the Gods.

  She wanted nothing more than to kill me, he thought numbly as he headed through to where the assassin had been waiting for the Shure master’s signal. Obedient to her master’s word, she didn’t care for any other reason. Just like Irato, these bastards had made her a slave to be used without regard. For all the goshe’s claims of equality and brotherhood, they’re no better than the noble castes. All they want is control and they’ll tear out your mind if that’s the cost.

  He tightened his grip on his stave, feeling a cold resolve steal over him.

  No. The goshe are worse – high-caste folk just want to keep the Empire the way it is ; safe and unchanging. As it’s always been, as they’ve always known it. But these goshe, they don’t want anything to change, not really. They just want to be the ones at the top – they see all that’s wrong with the Empire and they’re just envious.

  He felt it as a shock, the realisation of what he was feeling. It was hatred – pure and unadulterated. His upbringing within the ordered Imperial District meant he rarely experienced such strength of feeling, but now hate filled him. These people who had tried to murder him, these people who played games with lives and sent their assassins out after newborns – armed with a poison that stole who a person was.

  And now they’ve declared war on us all. So be it – I know a man who seems to know all about war in all its cruel colours. Time I learned more than dachan from the old bastard.

  ‘What now ?’

  Enchei looked up from the blade he was sharpening. ‘Now ?’

  Kesh stood and gestured around at the small room she, Enche
i and Irato occupied. ‘Now ! Narin’s been gone for hours. How long do we have to sit in this room and wait to be killed ?’

  Enchei shrugged and went to the door. He removed the steel bar he’d wedged behind it and pulled the door open. ‘You want to go, help yourself.’

  ‘Preferably without being killed.’

  ‘Ah.’ He nudged the door shut again with his toe. ‘In that case, stay put. Waiting won’t kill you and being bored’s better than the alternative.’

  ‘Easy enough for you to say ; they’re not after you !’

  The older man grinned. ‘True.’

  Kesh waited a moment then gave a snort of irritation. ‘That’s all you’ve got to say ? We can’t even go to the Palace of Law ? Surely we’re safer there than we are as sitting ducks in here.’

  Enchei nodded. ‘Certainly. Hey, Irato, you awake ?’

  ‘Yes.’ The goshe sat up, a flicker of discomfort on his face. He’d removed the sling from his left arm so presumably the pain continued to subside – his body recovering unnaturally quickly after Lord Shield’s intervention. ‘What is it ?’

  ‘You’re a goshe – tell Kesh how you’d kill us all if you were the one planning it ?’

  ‘How would I …’ Irato tailed off at Enchei’s level look. He thought for a moment, eyelids flickering slightly as though rediscovering some lost part of his mind. ‘I … I would wait. Kesh wants to move somewhere safer – anyone would – but you’re vulnerable out in the open.’

  ‘Exactly. At the Palace of Law you’re safe, but you’d never make it that far. Those people clearly don’t care about taking losses, but they’ll only get one shot.’

  ‘They lost eight when there weren’t guards here,’ Kesh realised, ‘now there are twenty-odd Investigators surrounding the compound they’d need their elite troops to get us.’

  ‘And that’s a display they don’t want to put on while the whole city’s watching,’ Enchei said. ‘So they wait for us to get anxious and move you. Losing another five as a distraction while they put a crossbow bolt through Irato and you, that’s a sign the goshe are serious about trait-ors. Losing fifty or some elites with secrets they don’t want to share in a full-scale assault, that’s a sign they’ve a small army to call on and House Dragon might have something to say there.’

  Kesh dropped down into a chair. ‘So what then ? I just sit ?’

  ‘Unless you’d prefer to scrub the bloodstains out of the floor ?’ Enchei suggested.

  She scowled at the jibe, hands clasped together as she tried to stop herself fidgeting. ‘Empress forgive me, that might actually be preferable to sitting around,’ Kesh said, giving up her effort to compose herself. ‘Go fetch a pail of water then, a brush for yourself too. I’m not doing it by myself, I’ll tell you that for nothing.’

  Enchei nodded and rose to head out onto the walkway. ‘Mistress Sheti should have something we can use.’

  He closed the door behind him and the room became abruptly silent. Kesh looked up and saw Irato staring blankly at her. The room was lit by a lamp despite it being day outside, the window shutters now nailed shut. The bruising on Irato’s face looked sickly in the meagre light, the right-hand side of his forehead still swollen after the fall that had started all this.

  ‘What are you looking at ?’

  Irato turned away and lowered his gaze. She watched him obey with a mixture of pity and contempt. Caught in his own form of slavery. I hope the man he once was had time to realise what was happening to him.

  She shook her head. As much as she still wanted to hate Irato, Kesh was too tired to feel much and he cut a pathetic sight when left to his own devices. It wasn’t that he was consumed by misery or loss ; certainly he was affected, but when left alone the man would simply sit and stare, not so much grieving as emptied. Removed from the world around him, Irato was drained of his self – less than human somehow, more like an animal. His deeds were not expunged, but the creature sitting in front of her wasn’t quite the same as the one she hated.

  Right now, all Kesh wanted to know was that her mother was safe. Now the secret was out, now they knew Irato was here, surely there would be no purpose in killing her ? She had to hope. Kesh could ident-ify Father Jehq, could recognise the man at the heart of whatever was going on, and for that she was marked for death – but her mother knew nothing of use. Even taking her hostage seemed an unlikely prospect.

  ‘You just going to sit there, then ?’ Kesh called, for want of something better to do.

  ‘What should I be doing ?’

  She looked him up and down. He was wearing the same blood-stained trousers and shirt he had been all night.

  ‘You could change your clothes, wash the blood off your hands maybe ?’

  Irato looked down and seemed to notice the streaks of blood on his skin for the first time. He looked around for a helpless moment before Kesh lost patience.

  ‘Oh for Lady Pity’s sake – there’s a washbowl in the other room,’ she said, pointing to the door to Narin’s bedroom. ‘Take a shirt from there once you’re clean, then run a cloth and whetstone over your weapons.’

  The goshe ducked his head and started off towards the bedroom, awkwardly tugging at his shirt as he went. Kesh’s gaze fell to the discarded grey coat and leather armour on the floor. Even with the continued threat and his gradual recovery, it hadn’t occurred to Irato to put them on again.

  ‘What are we going to do with you ?’ she muttered, more to herself than Irato but he still stopped in the open doorway, head caught halfway through hauling his shirt off.

  ‘What do you mean ?’

  Kesh pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the lack of sleep dig its claws a little deeper into her head. ‘You don’t seem so capable by yourself. Might just be the shock, but whatever’s in that Moon’s Artifice has really turned your head inside out.’

  He turned to face her. ‘What are you going to do with me ?’

  ‘Me ?’ Kesh snorted. ‘You’re twice my size, there’s not much I can do to you.’

  ‘But your sister …’

  ‘What about her ?’ she snapped. ‘What ?’ Without meaning to she jumped up and squared up to the muscular assassin. ‘What about my sister ?’

  ‘It’s my fault,’ Irato said simply. ‘Whether or not I can remember, I’m to blame.’

  She bit down her automatic response and took a deep breath. ‘It sounds like what happened to my sister is the least of your crimes. I don’t know what Narin intends to do about them, but he’s the one who’ll decide what happens to you.’ Kesh looked away. ‘You’re not my concern.’

  Irato seemed to sag a shade. ‘I understand.’

  Kesh hesitated, not for the first time struck by the sense that he was playing her – but if he was, Irato was the finest actor she’d ever met.

  And what’s the point ? If he had information on the goshe, Rhe would offer him a deal in a heartbeat – this is too momentous to care about one man’s crimes. She eyed the lean lines and scars of his powerful arms. And how hard would it be for him to get away ? The guards are all looking in the other direction – if he runs, he’d make it, most likely.

  ‘Do you really not care what happens to you ?’ she said at last.

  For a moment, confusion flickered across Irato’s face. Then he turned and fetched one of Narin’s shirts from a drawer and pulled it on, buying himself a few moments to think.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted finally. ‘I don’t know who I am any more.’

  ‘What’s it like ?’

  He grimaced. ‘Like there’s a hole inside me. It doesn’t hurt, there’s just nothing there. Like a block of ice in my stomach ; it feels cold and numb rather than painful.’

  ‘What do you want to do ?’ Kesh asked, watching the fatigue and incomprehension play out on his battered face. ‘About the goshe, about all of this ?’

  Irato shrugged and returned to where he’d been sitting. He ran his hands over the scored leather armour he’d been wearing that first night, s
eemingly finding it both alien and familiar at the same time. ‘What does anyone want to do with their life ?’ he said, eventually setting the armour down. ‘What do you want ?’

  ‘To live it,’ Kesh declared fiercely. ‘To find my mother safe and well and go home. This isn’t my world, the Empire I live in.’ She gestured to the bloodstains on the floor and the weapons on the ground beside Irato. ‘You’re welcome to it.’

  ‘Is it my world if I can’t remember any of it ?’ Irato wondered.

  ‘You’ve still got skills. Narin and I’d likely be dead if you hadn’t defended us. The Empire’s got enough uses for a man like you.’

  Irato was silent for a long moment. ‘What if I don’t want that ?’ he said slowly, as though even attempting to decide something for himself required great effort. ‘What if I don’t want to be the man I once was ?’

  ‘You don’t even know who you were !’

  ‘Does it matter ?’ he said simply. ‘I was a killer – friend of killers. You say I’m never going to remember who I was, and maybe that’s for the best. Maybe that’s the shape of my soul ; but maybe the world made me a killer. Either way I’ll never know that man – never think his thoughts or live his life. Maybe I get a chance to be something better, something more than a plague on this world.’

  Kesh stared at him for a long time, trying to make sense of the clashing emotions inside her. Part of her was desperate to help his wish come about ; to satisfy a cynic’s secret yearning that the world was not all terrible, despite everything that had happened. But the cynic was also suspicious, and the black flame of grief still screamed for the man’s blood – a distant but urgent shriek at the back of her mind.

  For some reason her thoughts went back to her father, of the cheerful man she’d waved goodbye to on his last voyage. It had been only a few years ago, but it now seemed a lifetime – two lifetimes. Everything before the loss of Emari, just a few days ago, was now another lifetime, while the seasons she’d spent on the merchantman had changed her just as irrevocably.

  Father would want to help him, Kesh realised. He had been warm-hearted and generous, sometimes to a fault. The cynic at the back of Kesh’s mind spoke in her mother’s voice, but her father would have been glad of Irato’s wish to put his past behind him.