Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1)

by Harry Leighton

  “It’s alright, the rebels don’t think there’s really a mad physician making three-armed people, many think the government made that up to harass them.”

  “Do you think I’m a mad physician?”

  “No. I was adopting their mindset. I think you’re the man who kept me alive.”

  Always nice to be praised. “So these riots…”

  “The watch, and now the guard, well, and now the governor I suppose are managing to make a complete mess of the situation.”

  Makern turned to look at Marlen, and noticed something. “You’re not completely surprised by all this.”

  “The governor’s nephew has long been a bolt of lightning ready to be thrown by God to cause chaos. We now have it. I believe the Governor to be a fundamentally good man, but one who believes he is more capable than he is. There’s a reason why he’s here.”

  “Sometimes I want to ask what you make of me when you’re looking into everyone and assessing everyone.”

  Marlen smiled. “Would I use you to spy on the rebel council if I didn’t have absolute faith in you?” And, of course, a way to turn you off if that faith wasn’t justified.

  “Thank you, sir, thank you.”

  “Are the council planning to use this disturbance as a stepping stone to rebellion?”

  “It’s the rebel council sir, they won’t use anything until it forms a foot and kicks them firmly in the arse.”

  “No one can accuse them of going too early.”

  “I see we agree.”

  Yes, Marlen thought, and you’ve never considered why we always agree.

  *****

  “What’s that idiot doing?”

  The guard looked away from the queue of people at the city gate and over at his companion.

  “What?” he said.

  “Over there,” the other guard said, pointing.

  The first guard looked and saw a horseman riding full tilt down the road to the queue at the gates.

  “Maybe he’s in a rush.”

  “Well he’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.”

  The rider didn’t, taking to the field at the side of the road and carrying on at speed right up until he got to the gate.

  “You’ll have to wait in line like everyone else,” the first guard said.

  “Queue is back there,” the second said helpfully.

  “Close the gates,” he said.

  The first guard laughed and looked back at the group of people he had been dealing with previously.

  The second guard looked up at the dishevelled rider sceptically.

  “You look familiar. Captain Remir is it?” he said.

  A haunted looking Remir looked down from his horse. “Yes. Close the gates.”

  “Can’t you see the queue here?”

  “Yes. Close the gates.”

  “I’m not really allowed to do that during the day.”

  “Doesn’t matter, do it anyway.”

  “I can’t, I’ll catch hell from my superiors.”

  Remir was looking frustrated. “I’ll take responsibility. Close the gates.”

  “Look, what’s this all about?”

  “There’s trouble coming.”

  “Trouble?”

  “Yes, a large mob of people intent on trouble. Close the gates.”

  “Can’t see them.”

  “You will soon. Which is why you need to close the gates.”

  “Like I said, we’re busy and I can’t really do that.”

  “You’re making a mistake. Where’s the gate captain?”

  “He’ll be on the wall somewhere, best you take it up with him.”

  “Wall’s big. Be more specific.”

  “He likes to keep an eye on us in the morning, so he’ll probably be nearby. One of the guards on the wall should be able to help.”

  The guard stepped to one side and waved Remir through. Remir guided his horse past and into the city.

  “Here, why does he get to jump the queue?” a disgruntled traveller said nearby.

  “Official city business ma'am,” the guard said.

  Remir stopped outside the gate guardhouse and tied his horse. He looked up at the wall. This would do a better job of stopping them if he could only get the bloody gate closed. He entered the guardhouse.

  “Where’s the captain?” he said, looking around. There was only one man inside, a bored looking middle-aged man, polishing his breastplate.

  “Who’s asking,” the man said without looking up.

  “Captain Remir.”

  “Sorry, Captain,” the man said, standing up. “He’ll be on the wall. I can take you to him if you like.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  The man put his breastplate down.

  “Don’t you need that?” Remir said.

  “It’s not like we’re expecting trouble,” the guard said. “I’m just polishing it ready for when we get rotated out onto the search.”

  “I’d put it on if I were you.”

  The guard shrugged. “This way,” he said, leading Remir to the stairs.

  Quickly they were on top of the wall and the guard led Remir to his equivalent standing on the wall above the gate. The guard then ducked his head and walked away.

  The gate captain gave Remir a disdainful glance. “You look a mess,” he said.

  “Busy few days,” Remir said.

  “You’re not setting a good impression for your men.”

  “Least of my problems.”

  “I thought I saw you come in alone. Where are your men?”

  “Still engaged in losing a running street battle if they’re lucky.”

  The gate captain looked back into the city sharply.

  “No, not here.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief.”

  “Not really. Trouble is coming.”

  “Yes, I heard something of what you said. You want me to close the gates.”

  Finally. “Yes. And now.”

  “Have you seen the line of people waiting to get into the city? Good people, tradespeople. People who make the city money.”

  Remir sighed. “Yes, I’ve seen them. But if you hang on too long you’ll also have rebels and traitors.”

  “Rebels and traitors?”

  “Exactly that. Close the gate.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. What happened to you?”

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  “I’m not closing the gate unless you convince me I should.”

  “There was a riot.”

  “I need more than that.”

  “My men and I were patrolling the countryside, looking for troublemakers. We came across a provincial watchman, running as hard as he could for the city. He told us a tale of a town up in a riot. We didn’t believe him so we went to look. He was right. It got worse and we were overrun. Now they’re coming here. I broke through to get here first and warn you to close. The. Gates.”

  “You’re exaggerating. A few village rabble wouldn’t cause us much trouble even if they did make it this far.”

  “There’s more than a few.”

  “Regardless, the walls could keep an imperial legion out. We have nothing to fear.”

  “Not if we close the gates, no.”

  “The Governor will have my head if I close the gates during the day and shut out money makers.”

  Remir looked out from the wall in the direction he’d come from. “They may have your head if you don’t,” he said, pointing.

  The gate captain looked where Remir was pointing. “A few scruffy looking bumpkins with farm tools,” he scoffed.

  “Keep looking.”

  “Ah,” the gate captain said as more men appeared. “Perhaps we should close the gate.”

  “Perhaps we should.”

  *****

  Ospin looked at Galen sat on the cart bench next to him and flapped the reins on the horse pulling it. The horse picked up speed slightly.

  “Gates are open,” he said.

&nb
sp; “So what are we going to do when we get there?”

  “We’re going to talk to the Governor, make him understand that this has to stop.”

  “You think he’ll talk to us?”

  “That’s why we came in numbers. He has to listen to this many of us.”

  “Even after what we’ve done?”

  “Especially after what we’ve done.”

  “Quite a few people are dead.”

  “It was self defence.”

  “Uh…”

  “They would have done the same as to us if we’d let them.”

  Galen considered that. “Probably. I suppose.”

  “Are you getting cold feet?”

  “What if they don’t let us in? What are we going to do then?”

  “They’ll let us in.”

  “But what if they don’t?”

  “Then we’ll break in. We’ve shown that we have the will.”

  “That was different. Have you seen the walls?”

  “Gate is open. We get through and the walls won’t matter.”

  “There’s a big queue of people.”

  “Our business is more urgent than theirs. Make way!” he shouted.

  A number of people at the back of the city queue looked around. They saw the growing number of people, all armed, approaching them at speed and made the sensible decision to get out of the way, guiding carts off the road. People ahead of them, hearing the commotion behind them, turned, looked and started to do the same but before long they became bogged down, a mass of confused, milling people.

  “This is hopeless,” Ospin said, standing up.

  “They’re trying to close the gate,” Galen said.

  Ospin saw the guards trying to hustle a last couple of people through whilst the great doors slowly moved. They weren’t going to make it in time. Unless… There was a horse and cart just before the gate. He drew his knife, weighed it and threw it as hard as he could at the back of the horse pulling it. The butt of the knife struck the horse on its hindquarters but it had the desired effect, startling the horse into rushing forwards, dragging the cart into the gap between the doors. The doors closed on the cart and jammed, unable to shut fully with the cart acting as a blockage.

  “Quickly,” Ospin said, waving at the men and they swarmed forwards, through and across the panicking tradespeople and their carts into the breach.

  “This wasn’t what we wanted,” Galen said as he and Ospin clambered over a cart to the breach.

  “It will have to do.”

  An arrow sailed down from the city wall, taking someone in the mass of people.

  “They’re shooting at us,” Galen said.

  “They can’t do that, they don’t know who to aim at.”

  A couple more arrows were loosed but there was shouting on the wall and they stopped coming.

  The guards on the doors were desperately trying to clear the cart blockage, giving panicked looks at Ospin and his men rushing towards them but it was no good, the doors were jammed and the cart was going nowhere.

  “We’re in,” Ospin said, climbing down from the cart. Using his looted sword he cut the cart horse’s traces and it charged into the city, knocking people aside. More of his men followed him through and they started to form up, trying to get their bearings.

  “Does anyone know where we have to go?” Galen said, looking around at the confused mass of people, many trying to disperse.

  “You’re going nowhere.”

  Ospin and Galen looked and saw Remir in the street ahead of them with a hastily assembled squad of city guard, some of whom were still strapping on helmets and breastplates.

  “You again,” Ospin said.

  “Me again,” Remir said, drawing his sword.

  “We don’t want trouble,” Galen said.

  “You’ve a funny way of showing it,” Remir said, men forming around him, readying their spears.

  “We want to talk to the Governor,” Ospin said.

  “Lower your weapons, send your men away and maybe he will.”

  “Hah. Like we’re going to fall for that.”

  “The Governor is a reasonable man, I’m sure you can make an appointment.”

  “An appointment?”

  “He’s also a busy man.”

  “We surrender our weapons, you arrest us and we know what happens then.”

  “You’ve killed men. You need to answer for it but you’ll be treated fairly.”

  “They deserved it for what they were doing to the people. Now get out of the way, we have business with the Governor.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “How are you going to stop us?”

  Remir waved at the guard around him. Ospin smiled and looked back as more of his men made their way through the gate breach and formed up loosely around them. Galen looked at him nervously. Ospin was enjoying this a bit too much.

  “You don’t get out of the way, we go through,” Ospin said. “Just like last time.”

  “Not like last time,” Remir said. “You’re on our turf now.”

  *****

  Vance looked up from the stall and down the road at the noise. He didn’t like being this far from the office but the Governor liked this particular bread the best so it was an errand he had to run.

  He couldn’t make out exactly what was going on but it seemed like some sort of battle. Surely not, not in the city? It was probably some sort of impromptu play, though why people would choose to perform in the street by the gate was totally beyond him. Vance looked back at the stall to conclude his business but the trader had been looking at the disturbance too. He was a burly looking man, though to Vance most were, and he had the sort of face that suggested he’d seen trouble before. Why he was a baker then, who knew, but he certainly made good bread though the flavour was a little sour for Vance’s tastes. Vance made to pay but the trader ignored him, instead reaching for a knife.

  “No need for that,” Vance said, “I have the money here.”

  The trader ignored him and stepped out from behind the stall, eyes fixed on the commotion. Vance shrugged and put the loaf of bread in his bag. He made to put the money on the stall but since the trader had little interest in him now, he pocketed it instead. Another little contribution to his vineyard fund. Soon he’d be away from all this.

  The trader ignored him, instead nodding to a couple of others who stepped out from behind their stalls and joined him in the road. They too had armed themselves from things they had available to hand.

  Now this was interesting Vance thought, watching them. What were they doing? The group of traders started walking down the street towards the noise as people started to filter back past them in the other direction, some of them hurried. Vance, curious, followed the traders to see what was going on.

  There was a lot of noise, clashing, shouting and banging. Vance couldn’t see properly so he climbed up on a nearby cart to get a better look. He did a double take.

  It was impossible but it looked like the city guard were involved in a pitched battle with some farmers. Why the farmers were here or why the guard might be fighting them was impossible to understand and Vance watched, fascinated, never having seen anything like it before.

  A tall scruffy looking captain was at the front, engaged in a fierce sword battle with a couple of angry farmers. Vance watched as he feinted high before running one of them through, the man sagging instantly, pulling the sword down. The second farmer screamed and launched himself at the captain, crashing into him and sending both to the ground out of sight. The rest of the guards had their spears lowered and were using them to try and drive the farmers back, with some success. There was a shout from behind and the traders ran at the back of the guards, catching them by surprise. Order dissolved as some of the guards panicked at the threat from behind and the battle descended into a disorganised melee.

  Vance was shocked. Why would good city people attack the guard? What had looked like a fairly one-sided battle between the organised and eq
uipped city guard and some unknown rabble had now turned into a mass brawl and it was difficult to tell where the sides started and finished.

  If, as it seemed, local people were attacking the city guard for some reason, then people needed to be warned. Vance jumped down from the cart and ran in the direction of the nearest watch station.

  *****

  If you took the brains of ten squirrels, connected them together somehow, perhaps in the most painstaking operation of your career, would you then have a squirrel brain that was ten times as powerful as the previous ones?

  What if you took a hundred squirrel brains and merged them all into one? Would you produce something more intelligent than a man?

  These were Marlen’s thoughts as he walked through the city, his mind deep into the world of healing, as he pondered whether the squirrels were a blessing or a curse, and whether he was missing something. So focussed on the possibilities was he that he walked right up to one of the groups before they made him notice.

  “Oi, you,” shouted a guard, as the patrol of four halted, as Marlen did too just before bumping into them.

  “Terribly sorry,” Marlen replied, trying his best to look respectable.

  “You out alone?”

  “Yes, I am, I live alone since my wife died,” he lied, “is that a problem?” He knew he was poking a bear as the guards evidently only went out in groups of four or more now.

  “The city’s dangerous, there’s a riot going on, there’s bloody rebels wandering about all over the place. Hey, are you a rebel?”

  “Does he look like a rioter?” asked a bigger man who looked in urgent need of someone to punch.

  “No, no, he looks smart and urban.”

  “Urban?”

  “Means lives in the city.”

  “Is that all gentlemen?” Marlen asked.

  “We can walk you home if you want?”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I will be fine, thank you. I don’t think a riot is going to bother with me. I suspect they’re actually after you.”

  The four men looked uncomfortable at the realisation someone was avoiding them because they were the focus of the trouble.

  Four of them, and it wasn’t even dark.

  “Suit yourself,” and they marched off.

  Marlen stayed paused and watched them go. So the city was falling into a martial law where the guard were expected to root out troublemakers and accompany respectable men back to their lodgings.