City of Lies

by Sam Hawke

  “Your uncle was working on something,” she said, addressing Tain. “Some of us supported him, but most didn’t. He wanted things to change—he wanted Sjona to change. Things out on the estates have fallen behind the cities. The Families have been taking advantages, too many—and we Guilders were letting it happen, too. Caslav was trying to change things, build relationships. But then he died. And you … well, forgive me, Honored Chancellor, but I didn’t know you well. You never seemed much interested in the ancient responsibilities of the chancellery, only its benefits. And almost immediately you started taking private meetings with Caslav’s biggest opposition.” I realized then that she’d answered both our questions after all.

  “Bradomir,” Jov murmured. “Lazar…”

  She nodded. “Along with others—Nara, Varina—they opposed the measures Caslav wanted to introduce. He and Etan were working in secret to build support. The common people have no reason to trust us, you know. But he was trying. Before he died he was supposed to meet with a large party of respected elders from the estates. But the meeting never happened, and I have speculated that someone was undermining his attempts. Probably the people with the most to lose. The richest Families, with the biggest estates.”

  My chest felt heavy. I had searched for connections between Councilors and the rebels and too quickly dismissed the possibility of the poisoner operating for different reasons than the rebel cause.

  Marjeta sat, looking between us. Her voice shook. “Budua and I hid the records. When you were asking about them before, we removed Council minutes and discussions. We weren’t sure who killed Caslav, and we thought…” She dropped her gaze to her hands on her lap.

  “You thought I might have been involved,” Tain finished, sounding hollow. “That I might have…”

  She nodded. “Whoever did this knew enough to get through Etan, which meant they knew what they were doing. You two turned up mysteriously and unexpectedly on the day the Chancellor died, and though you must have known it was poison you seemed unconcerned about your own safety. And everyone knew you and Caslav disagreed about a lot of things. He loved you, but he said you had a lot of your mother in you. Sometimes…”

  “He despaired of me,” Tain finished again, a half-smile touching his lips. “He used to say that all the time.”

  “He wouldn’t have been the first person to misplace their affection.”

  “Well, he didn’t,” Tain said, the smile gone. “I loved my Tashi. And we never disagreed about the important things.”

  “The Families have a lot to lose if the working people start having a voice on the Council, or even in the city,” Marjeta said. “The spice and gemstone mines make them rich, and Caslav was looking into their working conditions, and making noises.…” She pinched her nose. “At the time, of course we didn’t think anyone would do something like that. We thought there would be pressure and politics, not murder.”

  “Etan must have thought the same, or he’d have told me,” Jov said. He still looked stricken. My own thoughts spun. Had Etan been ashamed of his own ignorance, too embarrassed to confess to us what was happening without first having taken steps to remedy it? Like Jovan, he had been a proud man, and one who viewed any failure of his duties harshly.

  “And the army outside?” I asked. “What has that got to do with it? If Caslav was making changes, why would they attack us? That wasn’t a sudden decision after he died; this is an organized rebellion.”

  “If I knew that, I’d have come forward sooner, suspicions or no,” Marjeta said. “We’re all in this together, aren’t we?”

  “Maybe,” Jov said, and I knew he was thinking of the tunnels, and his dark pursuer.

  Tain sighed. “At least tell us more about what was happening on the estates. I still don’t really understand how this relates to the Darfri. Kalina studied the records and we know the city lost control of the schools and lawkeeping out there decades ago. But what does it have to do with religion?”

  “It’s all tied together,” Marjeta said. She ducked her head. “And I have shared in it as much as anyone. Disrespect of the way of life we once all shared. The contempt the cities hold for the Darfri—‘earthers,’ we call them, and treat them like they’re foolish, or diseased. They had complaints about the use of land, and the sites they consider sacred spirit places.”

  One of Tain’s guards called in. “Messenger, Honored Chancellor.”

  We turned to the doorway and a girl in a messenger’s sash came through. “Honored … Chancellor,” she gasped, panting. “You … you said to come…”

  It took me a moment to recognize the long, chinless face and big eyes: the messenger we’d left in the tunnel.

  “They’re coming, Honored Councilor—the rebels are breaking through.”

  Art’s plainsrose

  DESCRIPTION: Woody shrub found along dry creek beds, watercourses, gorges, and rocky slopes. Flowers range from pale pink to mauve and round leaves are strongly scented when crushed. Dried, powdered leaves form the main ingredient in Art’s tonic, a sedative used extensively in medical care.

  SYMPTOMS: Pain relief and drowsiness, unconsciousness.

  PROOFING CUES: Distinctive smell when dissolved in fluid.

  11

  Jovan

  We returned briskly along the increasingly familiar route back to the tunnel entrance, my feet slipping in my sandals and my heart and head racing at equal pace. Anxiety strangled the logical part of my brain as I tried to balance the conflicting information we had gathered. I needed time, space, and good health to sort through it, and I had none of those things.

  But despite that, through the various complaints my body threw at me as I ran, and all my doubts and fears, a tiny knot inside me had loosened. The possibility that Etan had willfully contributed to the oppression of our countryfolk had chipped away at my regard for him, tainting my memories. But now I knew he had become aware of his damaging ignorance and had tried to change things rather than cover them up, and that reenergized me. I saw the same thing in Tain, a brightness to his eyes that had been missing. Not even the grim purpose of our return to the lower city could take the new information from us, or stifle the hope it ignited within.

  “What are we going to do when they break through?”

  “Capture the miners,” Tain said. “We have the advantage, knowing they’re coming. We need to talk to the army, and this is the best way I can think of to force someone to listen. We can finally find out what started this, who’s controlling it. We can talk and hopefully have them listen and then send them back out to talk to their leaders.”

  A trumpet sounded.

  We looked at each other, confused, as it sounded out, mournful and carrying, blaring out from somewhere up ahead, but unaccompanied by the warning bells from the towers to give us a better sense of the direction of the attack. The trumpet sounded again as we picked up our pace.

  “It has to be the tunnels,” Tain said. “They must have broken through early.…”

  “So much for surprising them,” I muttered, though with a pang of relief that Kalina had not attempted to come with us.

  As we entered the district we ran into a line of men and women moving in rough formation toward the sound of the trumpet, clutching swords and spears and led by a shouting Order Guard. We fell in with them. Anxiety twisted inside me. Had the rebels shifted a force in through the tunnel and attacked already? It should have been a small mining team, easy to capture, and we should have been able to do it quickly and quietly.

  We made our way up to the Order Guard. “What’s going on?” Tain asked.

  “Some sort of attack within the city,” she reported, checking the column of people over her shoulder as she answered. “I don’t know anything else, Honored Chancellor. I heard the summoning horn and came at once.”

  Tain pushed ahead and I followed, wincing at the effort the dodging and twisting cost my battered body. My insides felt cold and tight. This isn’t right.

  We reached the house co
ntaining the tunnel entrance, and found a boy standing at its entrance, shifting the horn between his hands, back and forth. When he saw us he almost dropped the great thing.

  “Honored Chancellor,” he stammered. “Quickly, below. They sent me up, but they’re fighting down there.”

  We raced inside the house, already hearing the muffled sounds of conflict below.

  “I didn’t want this,” Tain said to me, his voice tight.

  Someone had left a lamp in the cellar, but as we scrambled down into the tunnel we didn’t need it. Lights surged ahead of us, flickering and bouncing, shadows rushing between them like live things. Metallic clashes and human cries and grunts echoed around. We burst into a thicket of it, finding our own men, packed in too close in the narrow space. The inconsistent light made it impossible to see clearly and no one seemed to recognize Tain as we pushed through, trying to get to the front of the line. I took a rough count: a dozen, twenty …

  “Space yourselves out,” Tain told them as we passed. “You’re too close, get some space around you.”

  But they only shuffled back and forth, wide-eyed in the flickering light of primitive open torches.

  We found the battle itself, such as it was, near where we’d left the Order Guard and messenger. The wall had crumpled away, forming a ragged hole like a monster’s mouth, and through it shadowy figures, tall and broad, held the entrance. Metal rang on metal, and when one figure raised his arms to block a downward strike from one of our men, I saw they defended themselves with shovels, not weapons. In a flash of torchlight their faces showed: grim, dirty, and terrified, holding together, trapped in the space. Not part of the army moving in as a surprise attack, just the miners we had wanted to capture.

  “They’re miners,” I said to Tain, having to yell to make myself heard. “Tain, they’re just the miners!”

  “Fall back!” Tain shouted, pushing our men back away from us with rough shoves to their shoulders as he moved. “Fall back, stop fighting!” But the weapons kept swinging, and we were jostled around in the half light. Ahead, I saw the Order Guard’s head, clad in a decent metal helmet, sitting higher than the others around him, and his sword chopping down. The space reeked of dirt and sweat and fear. With a scream like a dying animal, one of the miners dropped; I couldn’t see what had felled him, but at the sudden break in their tightly packed defense our attack surged, the crush of men pouring forward into the tunnel entrance.

  “Stop!” I yelled, adding my cries to Tain’s, but even as the surrounding men recognized us and fell back, the faces of the miners ahead dropped out of sight. More screams and cries pierced the air as the last miners fell. By the time we reached the front row of the swarm, the miners lay crumpled in the piles of dirt, their shovels fallen around them like careless litter. Tain snatched one of the torches and swung it about, spitting out an impressive string of profanities.

  “Get back,” he warned the Order Guard, his face twisted into a snarl, brandishing the torch like a weapon. “All of you, get back.” He knelt next to the closest miner’s body and I dropped down beside him, checking for signs of life.

  “Someone get a physic down here, now,” Tain said. “Now!”

  I was grateful for the darkness as still-warm blood slipped over my hands and arms while I checked for pulses and breathing. Tain swore, a steady stream under his breath, which grew louder and angrier as he moved from man to man, finding the same as me: dead and dying.

  “Hold on,” I heard him tell one man, but when I looked over, hopeful, a horrible dark mass glinted in the torchlight where the man’s stomach should have been, and I looked away again.

  “Hey!” someone cried, and behind the clumsy pile of fallen men, a shadow detached itself from the ground in the corner: one of the miners, darting away down the tunnel. I was the closest; I scrambled to my feet and chased after him. Although he’d had a head start, he ran half doubled over, staggering in a zigzag as he ran. I caught him with a wild tackle and he crumpled under my weight, dropping us both in a tangle. He struggled feebly as I wrapped him up from the back, pinning him to the ground with one forearm around his neck.

  “Hold still! I’m not trying to hurt you,” I told him, but he twisted his head around to glare at me from the corner of his eye, and spat at me. Tain and the Order Guard skidded to a halt beside us. They helped us stand, me still holding my captive from behind. “We’re going to let you walk on your own,” Tain said. “But please don’t try to run or attack anyone.”

  The man stared at Tain. Finally he nodded and I released him at Tain’s signal. Tain addressed the Order Guard as we returned up the passage. “What happened?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you send for us? This is exactly what I ordered you not to do. I wanted to talk to them, not kill them.”

  The Order Guard avoided looking anywhere near Tain. He took off his helmet and cradled it in front of his stomach. He spoke down into it. “I called for reinforcements when they started up again, and by the time the backup got here they’d broken through.” The Guard glanced at our prisoner, his tone accusing. “They had weapons, and they attacked us when they saw us waiting on the other side.”

  I felt my prisoner stiffen, but he stayed silent.

  Tain reached down beside one of the bodies. “They had shovels,” he said bitterly, straightening and brandishing one.

  The Guard ducked his head further. “Shovels can kill you as easily as swords, Honored Chancellor,” he mumbled.

  I supposed that was true enough, but there were no serious injuries on our side. Only the sad cluster of grubby, stained corpses in their rough tunnel, piled like the dirt in the barrows behind them. “Was there a scout?” I asked, holding a torch up to examine the space. “Did they have any way of sending word back down the tunnel?”

  He gave a little half-shrug. “I don’t know, Credo. I suppose they might have.”

  We had to assume they had. Which meant they knew already that the tunnel was compromised. I brought the torch back closer to me, turning to face our prisoner, searching his expression for a clue, but he gave nothing away. No flicker of a response.

  But as it turned out, we didn’t need one.

  A rumbling sound was our only warning, then a sudden shower of dirt rained on us as the entire structure seemed to shake.

  “Everyone out,” Tain said. “Quick!”

  The entrance back into our tunnel system was narrow and half of our soldiers had milled through, so there was another moment of confusing crush as everyone tried to get out again in a hurry. The four of us were the last ones through, and I felt a whoosh of air against my back as I leaped into the reinforced tunnel.

  “Collapsed.” Tain glanced back over his shoulder. “How did they do it so quickly?”

  “They must have prepared it to go if they needed it to,” I said, shaking the coating of gritty dirt out of my hair and trying to ignore the itchy trickle down my back. “Guess that answers the question about the scout.”

  Our prisoner looked at me then, a little sidelong glance, and though his expression never changed, I still read the satisfaction in his eyes.

  * * *

  Eliska crawled about on her hands and knees at the foot of the wall, rubbing one grimy hand across her forehead.

  “I don’t like it. Do you see these cracks: here, and here?” She gestured. “These walls are old, and strong, but they take strength from how the stones fit together. The collapse disrupted the pattern and weakened this section. It’s susceptible to attack now.”

  “Did they know that? Do you think that’s why they collapsed the tunnel?” Tain asked.

  “Impossible to say, Honored Chancellor,” Marco said. “The value to them in the tunnel was secrecy. Their numbers are neutralized in a tight space so it is no use as a direct line of attack. They may have merely prepared to collapse the tunnel if discovered, rather than giving us any kind of possible exit.”

  “If they just intended to use it to collapse the wall, they could have stopped well short of here,” Eliska s
aid. “But in any case, we’ll know soon enough. If they target this spot with their siege weapons…”

  Marco helped Eliska to her feet, and the two of them regarded Tain, their frames—so different in size—sharing the same wariness as they watched the Chancellor’s reaction. “I think we need to think about options for falling back.”

  “You mean abandoning the lower city and retreating to the old city.” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes searching the thin gaps between buildings through which glimpses of the old city could be seen, rising up from the east bank of the lake. “That’s a last resort.”

  “Be that as it may, Honored Chancellor,” Marco said. “The worst may come about. We are holding the city only because of the strength of the walls. If they break through, we will not be able to defend ourselves. They outnumber us ten to one.”

  He was right, of course, and Tain knew that as well as I did. But by the fortunes, the idea of having to abandon half the city … it was hard to even think about.

  “What would happen if we did?” I wondered aloud. “Would the old city hold?”

  The Bright Lake separated the two halves of the city, but the original wall on the west bank had been dismantled after the completion of the lower city. Only the structure around the Finger remained of the fortifications around Trickster’s, and none at all around Bell’s. If the rebels held the lower city, what would stop them from storming the bridges and taking the old city as well? Their sheer numbers would overwhelm us.

  Marco spread the city map out on a rock. “If they cross the lake, we have no way to fortify the city. We could use the buildings of the old city, and what is left of the walls, to lay many traps and ambushes for them. But that would be to hurt them as badly as possible. Not to win.” Marco looked up at Tain, somber. “You understand, Honored Chancellor?”

  Tain nodded.

  The Warrior-Guilder traced across the map, thick fingers lingering as he drew them across the two bridges—Trickster’s on the north, Bell’s on the south. “Our best chance is to destroy the bridges.”