‘That which was chained to the earth has twisted the walls of its prison. Beyond recognition. Its poison has spread out and infected the world and all who dwell upon it.’
‘You leave me without hope,’ Brys said.
‘I am sorry for that. Do not seek to find hope among your leaders. They are the repositories of poison. Their interest in you extends only so far as their ability to control you. From you, they seek duty and obedience, and they will ply you with the language of stirring faith. They seek followers, and woe to those who question, or voice challenge.
‘Civilization after civilization, it is the same. The world falls to tyranny with a whisper. The frightened are ever keen to bow to a perceived necessity, in the belief that necessity forces conformity, and conformity a certain stability. In a world shaped into conformity, dissidents stand out, are easily branded and dealt with. There is no multitude of perspectives, no dialogue. The victim assumes the face of the tyrant, self-righteous and intransigent, and wars breed like vermin. And people die.’
Brys studied the firestorm engulfing what was once a city of great beauty. He did not know its name, nor the civilization that had birthed it, and, it now struck him, it did not matter.
‘In your world,’ the figure said, ‘the prophecy approaches its azimuth. An emperor shall arise. You are from a civilization that sees war as an extension of economics. Stacked bones become the foundation for your roads of commerce, and you see nothing untoward in that—’
‘Some of us do.’
‘Irrelevant. Your legacy of crushed cultures speaks its own truth. You intend to conquer the Tiste Edur. You claim that each circumstance is different, unique, but it is neither different nor unique. It is all the same. Your military might proves the virtue of your cause. But I tell you this, Brys Beddict, there is no such thing as destiny. Victory is not inevitable. Your enemy lies in waiting, in your midst Your enemy hides without need for disguise, when belligerence and implied threat are sufficient to cause your gaze to shy away. It speaks your language, takes your words and uses them against you. It mocks your belief in truths, for it has made itself the arbiter of those truths.’
‘Lether is not a tyranny—’
‘You assume the spirit of your civilization is personified in your benign king. It is not. Your king exists because it is deemed permissible that he exist. You are ruled by greed, a monstrous tyrant lit gold with glory. It cannot be defeated, only annihilated.’ Another gesture towards the fiery chaos below. ‘That is your only hope of salvation, Brys Beddict. For greed kills itself, when there is nothing left to hoard, when the countless legions of labourers are naught but bones, when the grisly face of starvation is revealed in the mirror.
‘The god is fallen. He crouches now, seeding devastation. Rise and fall, rise and fall, and with each renewal the guiding spirit is less, weaker, more tightly chained to a vision bereft of hope.’
‘Why does this god do this to us?’
‘Because he knows naught but pain, and yearns only to share it, to visit it upon all that lives, all that exists.’
‘Why have you shown me this?’
‘I make you witness, Brys Beddict, to the symbol of your demise.’
‘Why?’
The figure was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I advised you to not look for hope from your leaders, for they shall feed you naught but lies. Yet hope exists. Seek for it, Brys Beddict, in the one who stands at your side, from the stranger upon the other side of the street. Be brave enough to endeavour to cross that street. Look neither skyward nor upon the ground. Hope persists, and its voice is compassion, and honest doubt.’
The scene began to fade.
The figure at his side spoke one last time. ‘That is all I would tell you. All I can tell you.’
****
He opened his eyes, and found himself once more standing before the barrow, the day dying around him. Kettle still held his hand in her cold clasp
‘You will help me now?’ she asked.
‘The dweller within the tomb spoke nothing of that.’
‘He never does.’
‘He showed me virtually nothing of himself. I don’t even know who, or what, he is.’
‘Yes.’
‘He made no effort to convince me… of anything. Yet I saw…’
Brys shook his head.
‘He needs help escaping his tomb. Other things are trying to get out. And they will. Not long now, I think. They want to hurt me, and everyone else.’
‘And the one we’re to help will stop them?’
‘Yes.’
‘What can I do?’
‘He needs two swords. The best iron there is. Straight blades, two-edged, pointed. Thin but strong. Narrow hilts, heavy pommels.’
Brys considered. ‘I should be able to find something in the armoury. He wants me to bring them here?’
Kettle nodded.
He needed help. But he did not ask for it. ‘Very well. I will do this. But I will speak to the Ceda regarding this.“
‘Do you trust him? He wants to know, do you trust this Ceda?’
Brys opened his mouth to reply, to say yes, then he stopped. The dweller within the barrow was a powerful creature, probably too powerful to be controlled. There was nothing here that would please Kuru Qan. Yet did Brys have a choice? The Ceda had sent him here to discover what had befallen the Azath… He looked over at the tower. ‘The Azath, it is dead?’
‘Yes. It was too old, too weak. It fought for so long.’
‘Kettle, are you still killing people in the city?’
‘Not many. Only bad people. One or two a night. Some of the trees are still alive, but they can’t feed on the tower’s blood any more. So I give them other blood, so they can fight to hold the bad monsters down. But the trees are dying too.’
Brys sighed. ‘All right. I will visit again, Kettle. With the swords.’
‘I knew I could like you. I knew you would be nice. Because of your brother.’
That comment elicited a frown, then another sigh. He gently disengaged his hand from the dead child’s grip. ‘Be careful, Kettle.’
****
‘It was a perfectly good sleep,’ Tehol said as he walked alongside Bugg.
‘I am sure it was, master. But you did ask for this meeting.’
‘I didn’t expect such a quick response. Did you do or say something to make them unduly interested?’
‘Of course I did, else we would not have achieved this audience.’
‘Oh, that’s bad, Bugg. You gave them my name?’
‘No.’
‘You revealed something of my grand scheme?’
‘No.’
‘Well, what did you say, then?’
‘I said money was not a consideration.’
‘Not a consideration?’ Tehol slowed his pace, drawing Bugg round. ‘What do you think I’m willing to pay them?’
‘I don’t know,’ the manservant replied. ‘I have no idea of the nature of this contract you want to enter into with the Rat Catchers’ Guild.’
‘That’s because I hadn’t decided yet!’
‘Well, have you decided now, master?’
‘I’m thinking on it. I hope to come up with something by the time we arrive.’
‘So, it could be expensive…’
Tehol’s expression brightened. ‘You’re right, it could be indeed. Therefore, money is not a consideration.’
‘Exactly.’
‘I’m glad we’re in agreement. You are a wonderful manservant, Bugg.’
‘Thank you, master.’
They resumed walking.
Before long they halted in front of Scale House. Tehol stared up at the riotous rodent façade for a time. ‘They’re all looking at me,’ he said.
‘They do convey that impression, don’t they?’
‘I don’t like being the singular focus of the attention of thousands of rats. What do they know that I don’t?’
‘Given the size of their brains, not mu
ch.’
Tehol stared for a moment longer, then he slowly blinked and regarded Bugg. Five heartbeats. Ten.
The manservant remained expressionless, then he coughed, cleared his throat, and said, ‘Well, we should head inside, shouldn’t we?’
The secretary sat as he had earlier that day, working on what seemed to Bugg to be the same ledger. Once again, he did not bother looking up. ‘You’re early. I was expecting punctual.’
‘We’re not early,’ Tehol said.
‘You’re not?’
‘No, but since the bell is already sounding, any more from you and we’ll be late.’
‘I’m not to blame. Never was at any point in this ridiculous conversation. Up the stairs. To the top. There’s only one door. Knock once then enter, and Errant help you. Oh, and the manservant can stay here, provided he doesn’t poke me in the eyes again.’
‘He’s not staying here.’
‘He’s not?’
‘No.’
‘Fine, then. Get out of my sight, the both of you.’
Tehol led the way past the desk and they began their ascent.
‘You poked him in the eyes?’ Tehol asked.
‘I judged it useful in getting his attention.’
‘I’m pleased, although somewhat alarmed.’
‘The circumstances warranted extreme action on my part.’
‘Does that happen often?’
‘I’m afraid it does.’
They reached the landing. Tehol stepped forward and thumped on the door. A final glance back at Bugg, suspicious and gauging, then he swung open the door. They strode into the chamber beyond.
In which rats swarmed. Covering the floor. The tabletop. On the shelves, clambering on the crystal chandelier. Crouched on the shoulders and peering from folds in the clothes of the six board members seated on the other side of the table.
Thousands of beady eyes fixed on Tehol and Bugg, including those of the three men and three women who were the heart of the Rat Catchers’ Guild.
Tehol hitched up his trousers. ‘Thank you one and all—’
‘You’re Tehol Beddict,’ cut in the woman seated on the far left. She was mostly a collection of spherical shapes, face, head, torso, breasts, her eyes tiny, dark and glittering like hardened tar. There were at least three rats in her mass of upright, billowed black hair.
‘And I’m curious,’ Tehol said, smiling. ‘What are all these rats doing here?’
‘Insane question,’ snapped the man beside the roundish woman. ‘We’re the Rat Catchers’ Guild. Where else are we supposed to put the ones we capture?’
‘I thought you killed them.’
‘Only if they refuse avowal,’ the man said, punctuating his words with a sneer for some unexplainable reason.
‘Avowal? How do rats make vows?’
‘None of your business,’ the woman said. ‘I am Onyx. Beside me sits Scint. In order proceeding accordingly, before you sits Champion Ormly, Glisten, Bubyrd and Ruby. Tehol Beddict, we suffered losses on our investments thanks to you.’
‘From which you have no doubt recovered.’
‘That’s not the point!’ said the woman called Glisten. She was blonde, and so slight and small that only her shoulders and head were above the level of the tabletop. Heaps of squirming rats passed in front of her every now and then, forcing her to bob her head up to maintain eye contact.
‘By my recollection,’ Tehol said reasonably, ‘you lost a little less than half a peak.’
‘How do you know that?’ Scint demanded. ‘Nobody else but us knows that!’
‘A guess, I assure you. In any case, the contract I offer will be for an identical amount.’
‘Half a peak!’
Tehol’s smile broadened. ‘Ah, I have your fullest attention now. Excellent.’
‘That’s an absurd amount,’ spoke Ormly for the first time. ‘What would you have us do, conquer Kolanse?’
‘Could you?’
Ormly scowled. ‘Why would you want us to, Tehol Beddict?’
‘It’d be difficult,’ Glisten said worriedly. ‘The strain on our human resources—’
‘Difficult,’ cut in Scint, ‘but not impossible. We’d need to recruit from our island cells—’
‘Wait!’ Tehol said. ‘I’m not interested in conquering Kolanse!’
‘You’re the type who’s always changing his mind,’ Onyx said. She leaned back and with a squeak a rat plummeted from her hair to thump on the floor somewhere behind her. ‘I can’t stand working with people like that.’
‘I haven’t changed my mind. It wasn’t me who brought up the whole Kolanse thing. In fact, it was Champion Ormly—’
‘Well, he can’t make up his mind neither. You two are made for each other.’
Tehol swung to Bugg. ‘I’m not indecisive, am I? Tell them, Bugg. When have you ever seen me indecisive?’
Bugg frowned.
‘Bugg!’
‘I’m thinking!’
Glisten’s voice came from behind a particularly large heap of rats. ‘I can’t see the point of any of this.’
‘That’s quite understandable,’ Tehol said evenly.
‘Describe your contract offer,’ Ormly demanded. ‘But be advised, we don’t do private functions.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I won’t waste my breath on explaining… unless it turns out to be relevant. Is it?’
‘I don’t know. How can I tell?’
‘Well, that’s my point exactly. Now, about the contract?’
‘All right,’ Tehol said, ‘but be warned, it’s complicated.’
Glisten’s plaintive voice: ‘Oh, I don’t like the sound of that!’
Tehol made an effort to see her, then gave up. The mound of rats on the tabletop in front of her was milling. ‘You surprise me, Glisten,’ he said. ‘It strikes me that the Rat Catchers’ Guild thrives on complications. After all, you do much more than, uh, harvest rats, don’t you? In fact, your primary function is as the unofficial assassins’ guild – unofficial because, of course, it’s an outlawed activity and unpleasant besides. You’re also something of a thieves’ guild, too, although you’ve yet to achieve full compliance among the more independent-minded thieves. You also provide an unusually noble function in your unofficial underground escape route for impoverished refugees from assimilated border tribes. And then there’s the—’
‘Stop!’ Onyx shrieked. In a slightly less shrill tone she said, ‘Bubyrd, get our Chief Investigator in here. Errant knows, if anyone needs investigating, it’s this Tehol Beddict.’
Tehol’s brows rose. ‘Will that be painful?’
Onyx leered and whispered, ‘Restrain your impatience, Tehol Beddict. You’ll get an answer to that soon enough.’
‘Is it wise to threaten a potential employer?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Onyx replied.
‘Your knowledge of our operations is alarming,’ Ormly said. ‘We don’t like it.’
‘I assure you, I have only admiration for your endeavours. In fact, my contract offer is dependent upon the fullest range of the guild’s activities. I could not make it without prior knowledge, could I?’
‘How do we know?’ Ormly asked. ‘We’ve yet to hear it.’
‘I’m getting there.’
The door behind them opened and the woman who was in all likelihood the Chief Investigator strode in past Tehol and Bugg. Stepping carefully, she took position on the far right of the table, arms crossing as she leaned against the wall.
Onyx spoke. ‘Chief Investigator Rucket, we have in our presence a dangerous liability.’
The woman, tall, lithe, her reddish hair cut short, was dressed in pale leathers, the clothing South Nerek in style, as if she had just come from the steppes. Although, of course, the nearest steppes were a hundred or more leagues to the east. She appeared to be unarmed. Her eyes, a startling tawny shade that looked more feline than human, slowly fixed on Tehol. ‘Him?’
‘Who else?’
Onyx snapped. ‘Not his manservant, surely!’
‘Why not?’ Rucket drawled. ‘He looks to be the more dangerous one.’
‘I’d agree,’ Bubyrd said in a hiss. ‘He poked my secretary in the eyes.’
Scint started. ‘Really? Just like that?’ He held up a hand and stretched out the first two fingers, then jabbed the air. ‘Like that? Poke! Like that?’
‘Yes,’ Bubyrd replied, glaring at Bugg. ‘He revealed the illusion! What’s the point of creating illusions when he just ups and pokes holes in them!’
Tehol swung to his manservant. ‘Bugg, are we going to get out of here alive?’
‘Hard to say, master.’
‘All because you poked that secretary in the eyes?’
Bugg shrugged.
‘Touchy, aren’t they?’
‘So it seems, master. Best get on with the offer, don’t you think?’
‘Good idea. Diversion, yes indeed.’
‘You idiots,’ Onyx said. ‘We can hear you!’
‘Excellent!’ Tehol stepped forward, carefully, so as to avoid crushing the seething carpet of rats. Gentle nudging aside with the toe of his moccasin seemed to suffice. ‘To wit. I need every tribal refugee in the city ushered out. Destination? The islands. Particular islands, details forthcoming. I need full resources shipped ahead of them, said supplies to be purchased by myself. You will work with Bugg here on the logistics. Second, I understand you are conducting an investigation into disappearances for the Crown. No doubt you’re telling them nothing of your findings. I, on the other hand, want to know those findings. Third, I want my back protected. In a short while, there will be people who will want to kill me. You are to stop them. Thus, my contract offer. Half a peak and a list of safe investments, and as to that last point, I suggest you follow my financial advice to the letter and swallow the expense—’
‘You want to be our financial adviser?’ Onyx asked in clear disbelief. ‘Those losses—’
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