The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  "And when I am done I will do the same; the judge will decide. I know."

  We stepped out into the light and parted company, myself to the right and he to the left. I was aware that Parast moved to join the men under his command, saw him take up a shield and join them. Then I had no attention spare to be aware of anything other than the crowd and the trial itself. The crowd rippled, a tide turning, focusing on us, shifting forward and settling against the bottom step, a purely notional barrier marked by the ten soldiers. If the crowd became a mob they would be pushed back simply by the weight of numbers. Casually, I glanced back; seven pillars, eight spaces. A few moments there and then back into the main body of the temple, a fighting retreat against a contained mob, back to the door to Caliran's chambers. A smaller room, further compressing the numbers. People would die in the crush; some would be wounded or killed by my soldiers. Better if all went well and the crowd remained a crowd. As Vedat began to speak, his voice raised to carry his words, I put the worst-case scenario away and focused on the moment. The voices of the crowd died away as they strained to hear.

  "This is the trial of Ulsin, accused of attempted murder," Vedat had a good voice that carried well.

  "What about the children!?"

  The question rang out clear as Vedat paused and was taken up by a dozen similar shouts that blended instantly with a rising mutter throughout the crowd as it shifted and surged slowly but with force. The sudden pounding of practice swords on shield rang out, shockingly loud and demanding attention. In the moment’s stillness after the drumming echoed to silence, Parast's battle-hardened voice rang out. "The trial will continue!"

  The attention of the crowd focused upon him, drifted over the line of soldiers, noting armor and shields, practice swords and the weapons sheathed at their waists. Each individual assessing risk and personal danger. Every individual had some experience of city soldiers in action, the taking of Darklake, the night of Learneth's fall, and in the north. Outrage and anger gave way to fear and uncertainty and in that moment Vedat resumed, slowly drawing the attention of the stilled crowd back to his words.

  "The charge is that Ulsin did strike as an assassin in an attempt to murder the patron, Sumto Cerulian, who will now speak as prosecutor.”

  The crowd’s attention turned to me as I stopped at the edge of the top step, not ten feet from the front of the crowd, and looked out over the sea of faces focused on me.

  I raised my voice to carry. I had chosen my words with care of simplicity and to achieve my intent.

  "No great harm was done," I raised my right arm, baring the well healed wound for all to see. A ripple of low murmuring ran through the crowd but no voices were raised and none moved. "The number of witnesses puts the attempt beyond dispute," the murmurs rose but slightly, "yet in failure the crime is reduced to intent and I propose that exile is sufficient punishment." I dropped my raised arm and turned away, judging the voices of the crowd as I paced back to my place. They spoke to each other, their focus was broken as my words were discussed; for now the crowd was not one beast but a flock of birds, each interested only in their own twittering.

  Hald stepped forward to take position at the fore, also raising one hand high for the attention for the crowd. In a few moments he had sufficient attention to be satisfied that he would be heard.

  "As a chieftain, as the father to my people, I know that sometimes children act in error," Hald's voice carried well. "Each and every one of us has acted in error at some time." Many among the crowd nodded reluctantly. "Each of us has accepted another's word and acted as though it were truth, acted against another unjustly." he had their attention entire. "Knowing this, I speak as a father, and say that a child who acts in error should be corrected, not punished."

  A wet cough sounded into the near silence. At the same moment a movement to my right caught my attention and I glanced that way. Caliran casually walked into the space between two guards and then into the welcoming crowd. The two guards stepped down one step. I took a single pace forward, opening my mouth to command them but unsure yet what command to give. The people closing in around Caliran were smiling, glad of his presence; the attention of the crowd was shifting. They had all seen him. Their interest was a solid wall washing over me. I hesitated, and in that moment of hesitation my own voice rang out louder than humanly possible, flooding the air with its volume.

  "I have to leave; ordered to withdraw from the area, return to the city, lay down my imperium. Immediately."

  If the crowd made any sound I could not hear it over the volume of my own voice sounding from within the temple. Everyone was frozen in the moment. Except Caliran. The priest moved deeper into the crowd, his small form suddenly hard to keep track of. He was gone and I had other concerns. I turned back to face the temple, hearing Parast's voice sounding impossibly loud from within.

  “Commander, in accordance with article thirteen I respectfully request to be informed of the contents of the dispatch recently received by you from the Assembly of Patrons."

  Everyone on the podium had turned to face the temple. Everyone except the prisoner who was held between two guards, held to keep him from falling, fresh bright blood on his chin and suddenly spattering through the air in bright droplets as he coughed violently.

  My own voice boomed from within the temple. "I am ordered to withdraw to the Eyrie, and then to the city."

  I stepped between two pillars into the shade. At the far end of the chamber the statue of Hesta was illuminated by a faint glow from the sphere into which he peered intently. I recognised it as the presence of spirit interacting with the world. Beside the statue stood a single soldier, sword in hand, arm raised, expression intent. Others were moving away from the walls, uncertain in which direction to go but certain that waiting passively was not an option.

  The single soldier beside the statue made one step too close with the source of my voice which boomed deafeningly in the confined space. "The incursion of the Necromancers was an excuse to act." His arm fell with full force, the blade impacted and shattered the glass sphere the statue held.

  From behind me another voice sounded. Caliran's voice, clear and sounding loud in the stillness. "Hesta has spoken!" I turned in the shade, hand drifting instinctively to where the hilt of a sword should be, and wasn't. "He needed an excuse to act." I hardly heard his words as I stepped out from between the pillars into the light, grabbed the arm of the nearest person, who happened to be Anista, and moved to guide her into the temple. "Ordered to withdraw, yet he remains." Anista snatched herself free of my grip and headed the other way, toward the crowd. Of the others gathered on the temple pediment, some were already moving. Parast had gestured his men to retreat and the line of soldiers were backing toward me and closing ranks as they came. Beyond, the crowd was turning ugly. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  I stepped after Anista and nearly bumped into the healer, Vesan, as he hurried in the other direction. "Can't you stop him?" I snapped as I moved to pass him.

  He half-turned to face me as I passed. "How? By launching a ball of fire into the crowd?"

  He had a point, but I remembered that once Jocasta had silenced me by a spell that robbed me of my voice. I stopped, turned and grabbed his arm all in one movement. "Silence, I said, dammit. I know it can be done."

  Vesan brought his face close to mine. "Of course it can be done, but I have to see him," he waved a wild gesture at the crowd. Those closest to us were slowly flooding the steps, though most were simply trying to get a better view of the priest who continued to draw the attention of the crowd to himself. "Hesta has spoken; the murderer of children is also a tyrant with no authority to rule here." The retreating soldiers came level with me as I stepped forward, drawing Vesan with me. Anista was already past the soldiers. She stepped into the crowd and was gone.

  Moving beyond the soldiers would be a risk. Following her would be an act of folly.

  Vesan struggled ineffectually against my grip. "There is no sense remaining h
ere."

  I pulled him close, forced him to look at me. "Yet here you remain until you do something."

  I saw the realization that I meant it sink in. "What would you have me do, then?"

  "Distract them. Break up the crowd. Be creative. Be... bees," the idea leapt into my mind. The doors were open, the hives were full, the bees were numerous and expendable. "Bring the bees here, send them into the crowd."

  He snorted, half laughter, half admiration. "I can do that," he said and raised the stone held ready. Until that moment I had not noticed it, and in that moment I was unsure if he had intended to use it against the crowd should he be threatened or against me to free him to avoid that threat. The briefest flash of non-light flickered on the edge of my awareness. I released him and took a step away. "Further, Sumto," he said.

  I glanced around. Parast stood close by. The soldiers had formed a line in front of the gaps between the pillars. They waited for us. They faced the crowd that moved this way but paid us no mind, their backs turned, intent to see and hear Caliran. I stepped back another pace.

  "Go," Vesan gestured toward the temple. The first bee arrived, circled Vesan and landed on his arm. Another suddenly appeared in front of my face for a moment and was gone. I stepped between the pillars and instinctively dropped into a crouch. The temple was thick with bees, they filled the air in a seething mass, had begun to pass overhead in swarms, the sound of them suddenly loud and demanding. I felt a nudge from behind. Taking the hint I moved aside, turned to look back between the two thick pillars as Parast passed me by. Vesan was already invisible. In his place was a roiling mass, a pile of bees six feet or more high and growing bigger by the moment. I could barely see that through the thick blanket of bees that filled the air between us. A few of those closest to him had begun to notice the odd bee circling. I heard a curse and saw one man swat at his hair. A woman turned and saw and opened her mouth in shock. Awareness spread like ripple, rapid and inevitable. As one, the crowd moved away from the threatening swarm. In that moment the mass of bees erupted and spread like a thunderous cloud, a wave that rolled thickly into the crowd, sweeping them before it in an eruption of screams and wild cries. In a moment Vesan stood alone, arms raised, a lone figure against the thick black thunderously angry stinging swarm that swept the crowd before it. I came slowly to my feet, ears full of shouts and screams and running feet and the dense and angry hum that filled the air. Panic will spread in a crowd like nowhere else. Like a rip-tide, it will carry you where it wills, and cast you effortlessly down and crush you. There were children in that crowd who would not survive the experience. I wanted to turn my back and walk away. Knowing I was responsible, I gritted my teeth and made myself watch.

  I only closed my eyes for a moment at the first pathetic bundle of bloody rags I saw spin out from behind the fleeing mob. Judging by the size and dress I figured it to be a girl of two or three.

  The worst thing about dying is that it starts out as just another ordinary day.

  #

  I wasn't aware of how I'd crossed the distance between us, but once again I had Vesan by the arm, held my face close to his. "Call them back!"

  He shrugged lightly, looking away. "There's no need."

  I looked after the mass of fleeing people. A slowly receding sea of chaos leaving the fallen in its wake. It was true, I saw almost at once. Where there had been a swarm acting with one mind, there now were so many thousands of individual insects rising above the crowd. They filled the air and the space before us. A hundred yards of empty space had opened up between us and the nearest people. Between us and the nearest living people. Most still fled, but now they fled the crowd itself. Some few stood in place, turning this way and that, still thinking themselves assailed by the swarm. Some lay still. Still others dragged themselves to their feet. By far the vaster number was still moving away from us, a receding tide that would stop, in time. But they were no longer a crowd, or even a mob. Each was an individual seeking safety from their fellows. For now, at least.

  I let Vesan go. My gaze drifted over the fallen and trampled. There were dozens of them. Some at least still moved, still lived.

  "I will tend to the wounded," Vesan said as he turned away and made for the steps.

  "Children first," I told him, probably unnecessarily.

  Parast stepped close beside me. I glanced at him and looked away. All of the soldiers had emerged from the temple behind us and stood in a line, awaiting orders. Parast waited to hear and relay them. I waited for my mind to clear so that I could formulate them. A lone bee hovered before my eyes for a moment. I felt like we were staring each other out. Then it was gone. I shuddered.

  Parast cleared his throat. "Get the wounded into the temple," I told him.

  I could smell smoke. I didn't think anything of it. People cook. People have fires in their homes to keep warm. There was always smoke. I wondered what would happen next. The crowd would turn on itself; it had already done so. In a fleeing mob it is the people around you who are the threat. Each seeking safety from the rest. It would take time to come to rest, to gather in groups, to recover, to talk. For now the threat was past. Only the consequences remained. I became aware that I wasn't doing anything. Parast had moved away, his men had followed; Parast had lain down his shield and tucked his practice sword into his belt. His men had followed his lead. His men. Maybe thirty of them now moved out among the fallen, doing what needed to be done. What needed to be done? Help the wounded, I decided, and stepped forward to do just that, then spun as someone grabbed my arm.

  As I turned I broke the grip, moving on instinct, and raised my fist to strike. Orasin leapt back from me as though he had been burned. "The priest’s quarters are on fire," he gabbled.

  For a moment I couldn’t take it in. My attention was fixed on the ink-stained hands that fluttered before me, the old man's panicked face behind it as he looked this way and that not knowing what to do. For some reason a voice from my past drifted through my awareness; my uncle’s voice during that summer of gruelling military training. Do something, he had said, if it happens to be the right thing, so much the better.

  "Go round to the hall," I snapped at him. He leapt and scampered away so that I had to raise my voice to be sure he heard me. "Use buckets from the fountain in the gardens," I shouted after him. Swearing vehemently, sure that I had not been heard, I turned back to the temple and stalked between the nearest pillars to verify what he had said. Not that I doubted it. Caliran was gone. He would not leave his library intact for my use. Vesan might be able to douse the fire but I wanted him where he was. The smell of smoke was stronger inside the temple. Beside the statue of Hesta, with a carpet of fine glass lying beneath its feet, a group of figures clustered around the closed door, manifestly undecided. Around their feet smoke oozed from beneath the closed door. In the gloom I could still make out faces and knew them for the witnesses; I picked out one or two faces I knew, but had no time or patience for names.

  They started and turned my way, one or two leaping back from the door as I bellowed at them. "Leave that door closed. Head round to the hall," I kept my voice raised and worked to keep my tone of voice calm. "Organise a bucket chain from the gardens."

  They hesitated, looked to each other for guidance. I suddenly knew that they wouldn't move without being forced. That they were afraid to move. Afraid of the non-existent mob. Like rabbits that had fled into their hole only to find it netted, they were panicked in the net. "Dammit," I swore, searching for a face that showed any resolve. Hald would be the best, the one to keep his head, the man used to command, the chieftain used to being obeyed. He wasn't there. He was then either in the room, dead or dying, or already through and in the gardens beyond and already doing what needed to be done. Either way, these sheep had to be herded out of here. I strode forward, shouting my instructions again. I was half way across the room before they started to move and then they bunched like sheep, drifting away from me as though I were a wolf come among the fold.

 
Maybe I was. I'd killed a few lambs, after all. The thought just made me angrier. Orange light was bright through the smoke at the gap at bottom of the door. Now I could hear the flames, a dull and fierce roar. Part of my attention was there and part on the group who shuffled away from the door and away from me, huddled against the wall, reluctant to move yet more reluctant to stay by the burning door. I was close enough that I could feel the heat of it, but not close enough to the statue that broken glass could crunch under my feet. That and suddenly wide eyes and opened mouths was all the warning I had. Had I been calm and at my ease it would not have been near enough, but I was angry and tense and on the cusp of action. Instinct took me down and to one side, a whisper of movement passed me by, a flicker of bright edged steel wreathed in shadows and almost unseen.

  The screams and sounds of running feet drowned out all other sounds as I corrected my balance and stepped into a crouch seeking an enemy and seeing only roiling shadows, drifts of smoke lit by the glow of fire from under the door on one side and silvered by sunlight through the pillars of the temples entrance. Thought and action became one as I backed away from where the shadow was dense and dark. Wet warmth on my forehead. Stinging. The blade had touched me.

  Panicked voices faded from my awareness. The distant sound of a barked command, the sing of freed steel almost masked by fear and the fierce roar of the fire that covered any slight sound close by. Shadows shifted and a bright glint flickered impossibly close and fast, followed me as I twisted away, arching my back, snapped one arm up to block. My skin brushed loose cloth for an instant before it was gone. A sharp sting at my lip where the blade had just touched. A backward step and I caught my balance, crouched, arms raised, stepped back again. Thinking and acting. Another head-shot.

  Shadows danced densely before me, and somewhere within them, Silgar was hidden. Without Vesan's enhancements I would be dead already. I was unarmed and alone and the enhancements weren't going to be enough. Silgar was here and I was going to die. I backed away from the thought and from the suddenly roiling shadow. Not time to question or hesitate, thought and action were one. Block high. I brought my arms together hard and fast; head back, blade bright, contact. My right arm struck his forearm, left made contact with his elbow. The unseen impacts came at once, a blow to the chest and my back and head hitting the ground hard. The light in the room dimmed in a slow blink of a moment as I centred myself, rolled away and got my feet under me as shouts and a thunder of footfalls filled the room. A glimpse of dense shadow concentrated suddenly on one wall as soldiers passed me fast and furious, then the shadows were gone. The soldiers slowed, stopped, tense and ready. I straightened between two soldiers who stood ready either side of me, bright steel in hand. The room was full of men who sought an enemy where there was none.