The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  North; refugees leaving Darklake, heading for Learneth. Beyond them, Meran and my second century. And Kathan, brother to Anista of uncertain motives, and in command of a small force of warriors. And Balaran, whom I no longer trusted. A scout with a message to abandon his mission and return here at once. And a messenger from the assembly of patrons bearing a letter for Meran, which he would now doubtless at least seem to obey.

  West; Resh Ephannan and a group of other petty chieftains with a small force amounting to a total of sixty warriors. Held in check from whatever they might intend by the fact that I hold hostages once held by Orlek and a now dead Necromancer. And Elendas, a lad of uncertain loyalty and unknown ambition.

  South; the people Hald was sending to Twobridges. Also there, I could hear in the distance, a number of men still at work, felling trees and working on the road. They were men loyal to Lendrin Treleth, no doubt. Lendrin Treleth, a trader knight, client of my father and so not an enemy. But not an ally either; more a friendly rival. And a citizen of the city, subject to my imperium - he and every man inside the fortified trading post, an island of normality that squatted on the other side of the lake from the town.

  In the centre, Darklake. A town inhabited by the remains of its original occupants, once cowed by a Necromancer and their chieftain, Orlek. The bulk of the population of Learneth, those who had not fled already. And the refugees I had brought from the lands of the Necromancers. And Anista, somewhere. And Caliran, somewhere. And Silgar, possibly. And the magistrates whom I had given power and authority; men in whose loyalty I was far from certain. And my first century; the only people apart from Sapphire whose loyalty I could be certain of. And, of course, Sapphire. Somewhere.

  And so north again.

  "Tell me again," I said as I passed close to Dannat and my men and drew rein.

  He sighed and threw back his hood. "There are seven bodies," he said patiently. "Children, as I said. One has a mouth full of rotting teeth; another has fingers twisted by arthritis; these are the clearest signs but there may be others; some you wouldn't see unless you opened them up. Diseased organs or weak hearts, for example. It's clear, Duprane says, that someone has been using the pattern to steal their health and vigour. There were signs that someone was using the pattern, so she was curious. It didn't take long to find the bodies, to see what had been done to them before they were killed."

  I couldn't get the image of Caliran's small and perfect teeth out of my mind.

  "Bastard," I muttered, and kicked my mount once more into a walk, thinking about each thing separately. Each person. Judging them afresh.

  "She kept a log of her investigations into the working of the pattern," I called out. "Didn't she?"

  "So she says; they were taken by your soldiers."

  And then taken by others. Lendrin Treleth; not an enemy but not an ally; he had taken some of the books from Duprane's library. And I had promised some to Caliran, but had he been taunting me? Laughing at me? Did he already have what he wanted? Silgar was stealing children in the night, and now I knew why, and for whom; Caliran. The question remained, how had he gotten his hands on the books, theft or trade? And had he used the youth and vigour of those children only to revitalise his own ageing body, or had he traded the ability to buy the loyalty of others? And if so, how could I tell? Whoever they were, they were on the list of my enemies. I could only think of one way to find out exactly what had been done to those children. They would have to be cut open and examined by a healer.

  "I want those bodies brought to the edge of the forest," I told him as I drew rein once more at his side, "by tonight." I didn't want anyone going in there, not just because of my agreement with Duprane but because somewhere out there was an army of unknown strengths heading this way. "Can you do it?"

  His expression wrinkled in disgust. "Why should I?"

  "You owe me for not turning you over to your uncle, for one, and for not taking your damn head for the damage done to mine, for another."

  He looked away, then back; his wolf eyes met mine. "Duprane will want something for her cooperation."

  "Tell her I'll return her library," I couldn't remember if I had already promised that, but it didn't matter. I still had her books, or at least some of them, and planned to recover the rest.

  He didn't respond for a moment then gave a single nod. "If Duprane agrees to that, I'll do it," he said.

  "Good," I said. "She'll agree to it; the last thing she wants is a rival for control and use of the pattern, and this will lead to the removal of that rival."

  He gave another more thoughtful nod. "I'll tell her that."

  "So go," I told him. As he turned his mount to go I thought of one more thing. "And guard them when you have moved them; I don't want them chewed up by anything, understand?"

  He gave an offhand wave to show he'd heard, then kicked his mount into a canter and was away.

  Well, I thought as I watched him go, I don't suppose I can grudge him the horse. Much.

  #

  I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been looking for it.

  "I wasn't expecting you till dusk, Sumto," Lendrin Treleth got to his feet with a friendly smile as I strode into the room an instant after his servant announced me.

  It was obvious, though, as soon as you knew to look. A little less fat, perhaps; eyes clear and bright, the whites no longer yellow with jaundice. The way he moved as he came around his desk to welcome me, vigorous and energetic. I wanted to draw my newly restored sword and cut him down on the spot, but he was a citizen and to kill him out-of-hand would be murder. Instead, I smiled, perhaps a little grimly.

  "Plans change," I told him. Don't they just.

  He gave me a concerned look as he ushered me into a chair and bustled over to a side table to pour us drinks, talking all the way. "I haven't had any problems here, though it's good of you to be concerned." I wasn't. "Of course, civil disorder is bad for trade generally but I'm sure you will have things back under control in no time. Always a risk, having a trial in public, especially when there are potential enemies at the gate, makes people excitable. Not that Resh Ephannan is a threat, of course, as you and I both know, but it might have been an idea to make that clear by inviting him to the town, don't you think? And I would have advised you to hold that trial in private, had I been asked."

  I accepted the proffered wine and set it untried on the desk while he beamed at me in a friendly and distracted way.

  He is not, I reminded myself, your enemy. Just a murdering bastard who needs to be charged at a convenient moment. A moment not now. Still, he had given me an insight into just how involved he was with events, and that was something I hadn't been considering. Fingers in every pie, looking to his own advantage, manipulating to his own benefit; another invisible hand suddenly revealed. The only thing I really wanted to know was something he would not tell me; what exactly he had paid Caliran for the new liver that made him so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed all of a sudden.

  "There was too much public interest for a private trial," but I didn't want to get into the why of that right now, lest I tip him off that I guessed that he had benefited from the child kidnappings that were the cause of it, "and what is done is done. What I need from you is men with which to restore order."

  He blinked at me owlishly. "But I understood that you had been recalled to the city, isn't that so?"

  I smiled back at him, glad to know that he wanted me gone. It helped clarify his position. "True, but I need not lay down my imperium until I cross the boundary of the city, and as there is a clear and significant threat to my command, I will not be leaving here until it is neutralised."

  He looked bemused, slightly overdoing it. "But have we not just agreed that Resh Ephannan and his modest bodyguard are not a threat? Surely that would be clearly seen by the assembly as a mere pretext!" A threat to reveal what he knew of Resh Ephannan’s dealings clarified his motives nicely. He wanted me out of the way so that I couldn't compete with him for profit. Greed, pure and si
mple. If we have a flaw as a people, greed is surely its name.

  I kept my smile in place, more or less. "Possibly. Although Resh Ephannan is of uncertain intent, he is not my primary concern," I told him, "the approaching army out of Battling Plain is."

  His face went still and his pupils shrank to pinpoints. "Army?" He didn't know. And an approaching army meant he might need me.

  "Two or three thousand," I said, being deliberately vague about numbers; "Warriors," I clarified, "and a few dozen..." I pretended to struggle for an appropriate description, "...priests of unknown abilities." I shrugged.

  He blinked, more than once, and settled back in his chair. "I see," he said, softly, already thinking hard. "That is... disturbing news. Have you any idea of their intentions?" He'd thought he knew who he would be dealing with in my absence; now he wasn't so sure.

  "No, but I'm sure we will find out soon enough." I let it hang for a moment. "Now you see why I'm going to need to restore order quickly, and why I need your men."

  His eyes narrowed as he focused his attention again on me. "You are not going to expect them to fight in a battle, are you?"

  I had no illusions that he was concerned about their safety. None at all. He was thinking about the cost of replacing them. It is the only real problem with a completely free market. Everything has a price, a cash value. Everything becomes a commodity to be bought and sold. The life of a man; the life of a child. And there are people who don't have a problem with that. People like Lendrin Treleth. He was the kind of man who would say that life is cheap, thinking of its cost; where I would say the opposite, thinking of its value.

  "It's too early to tell, but should it come to that you are better served if your men are under my command. In any case, you will be compensated, of course."

  "Of course." Nothing is for nothing. "Will thirty men do for now?"

  "Twenty." I didn't want more. I couldn't trust them "Five coin a day."

  He looked happier. The prospect of money will do that to some. "Agreed. I have too much invested here to walk away from it, Sumto. If there is a battle, you will win, won't you?"

  I smiled. "Two centuries of veterans, sixty barbarians, your irregulars, two battle mages and healers," I listed my assets, "against a couple of thousand barbarians and a few priests." I shrugged. "What do you think?"

  He looked reassured. “Odds of ten to one. We can handle those odds." I wished I was as confident. Those that I had been characterizing as priests were anything but, an unknown quantity with abilities I was guessing at from what Duprane had told me. If there were many of them, and I guessed there were, they would be a serious threat. If it came to a battle.

  It didn't take long to gather twenty of his fighting men. We stepped outside and stood in the open while we waited. The trading post was busy. I watched people setting up tents and more arriving by the minute. People of Darklake were coming here, seeking safety. I wasn't surprised. I already knew that Lendrin Treleth was one of the factions in the game; it was no surprise that he was attracting people looking for his protection. Good luck to them, I thought. I noticed that Lendrin Treleth was also watching them, and eyeing up the stockade itself, looking to his defences. I knew what he was doing; a risk assessment, balancing risks versus potential gains. I wondered how it would balance up in his mind. If I fought the army out of Battling Plain and lost, he would lose everything. And right now he didn't know, and couldn't know, that there was a good chance they were coming to negotiate, and not to fight. At best, he might try and characterize himself as neutral, sacrificing the men he'd lent to me. The possibility that he might come down on the side of the enemy did not concern me. Whatever else he might be, he was a citizen and a knight of the city. My rival; not my enemy.

  We didn't say anything more, other than pleasantries. There was nothing more to say.

  As I lead the twenty irregulars around the lake, I watched people leave the town. Groups of between twenty and a hundred trailed away to the north and south. Others made for the Trading Post, and still more climbed the slope beyond Darklake to join Resh Ephannan. When word of the approaching army got out, that constant stream would turn into a flood. When the dust settled, how many would be left? How many would later return? And perhaps most importantly, who would govern them? I already knew for certain that it would not be me. What then would be the fate of these people? It took an effort of will to put it out of my mind; the fact was that their fate rested where it always had, in their own hands. All I could ever do was make stability possible, put wealth within their reach. There is an old saying; you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Still, I hoped to pull something positive out of this mess. And the first task was to find and eliminate Caliran, now that I had the manpower to attempt it.

  #

  The last buildings secured were a group of hastily erected shelters, little more than sloped roofs of thatch on rough-cut poles with the walls of the town as back wall and rough wattle and daub windbreaks for the rest. Humble as they were, the amateur thatch gave some shelter from the drizzle that had begun as dusk settled around us.

  We had swept slowly through the town and ended here, under the north wall. As the last few dwellings were searched, I stood in the doorway and looked out at the huddled families whose homes these were. Like the rest, they showed no signs of resistance, they bore no weapons and offered no threat, posed no danger. As the long afternoon had worn on and the thin line of soldiers swept slowly and inexorably across the town, freeing up larger areas to normal activity, I had felt the bitter and frustrating taste of defeat strengthen until it saturated me. There was no enemy. Caliran was no longer here. Neither he nor any of his supporters were in the town. Somehow, he and his adherents had passed out of my reach. I had wasted half a day and no matter what Caliran been doing, he must have achieved more than I.

  I listened to the rain and wondered where Caliran had gone, as well as how. Silgar had some power over stone; maybe that accounted for how. That still left where, and how many had he taken with him? Hetkla and others among my men had been watching, making note of those they suspected. None of those men had been found in the town. They had been in evidence when I hadn't the manpower to do anything about them, and slipped away as soon as I had.

  My men were stepping back out into the rain, empty handed. The whole enterprise felt like a waste of time, though the town itself was now secured. But Caliran and his followers could doubtless return as easily as they had apparently left. I'd be a fool to think the night would pass without incident. My enemies were free to come and go as they chose. I was trapped here within the walls of Darklake. And there was damn little I could do about it. Of those who were here with me I had no sure way of telling who was ally and who was enemy. And there was damn little I could do about that either. There was no sign of Anista. I could only presume she had gone with Caliran, however and wherever he had gone. Not through the gates, I was assured, though I didn't doubt it was possible. And Sapphire. Sapphire was also gone.

  Parast ducked through the low doorway of one shelter and stepped into the rain. I moved out to meet him. We stood together for a moment in silence and looked around, taking in the bastion where the east and north walls met; I glanced at the stone steps that provided access. They had no information to impart. The last of the soldiers gathered around us in a loose formation. Slowly, I became aware that Parast was watching me, waiting for my lead. Somehow I resisted the urge to sigh. A shrug would also not serve.

  "Organise vigils," I told him. "Two of our men in command of any group."

  He nodded but made no move, which I took to mean that he had already taken care of it.

  "Hold the gates and the road between them most secure," I told him, "and for the rest, patrol lightly and in good sized units."

  Parast nodded again. I was telling him things he already knew. I felt superfluous. Frustration made me angry and I tried to keep that anger in check. Emotions are the enemy of thought and I had to think. What was the worst that c
ould happen? Caliran might return in the night, rouse the people to rioting and make an attack of his own in the confusion. Resh Ephannan and the other chieftains might be his allies and join that attack. I'd had no word from Elendas, so he could be with them. He had not returned to Darklake. Resh had sent one man back with Seldas to assure himself of the wellbeing of the hostages. That man had done just that and nothing else before leaving. Resh Ephannan had sent no word to me with Seldas, who now remained with the walls of Darklake.

  Again I resisted the urge to sigh. I was spending my time thinking, but without profit.

  "The gates and the hall are the key points to hold when the troubles begin," I said.

  Parast nodded again. He knew.

  I turned away and looked through the rain. In the half-light of dusk I could see the roof of the hall. Though right now it looked uninviting to my eyes, I had no better place to go. I gave in to the urge to shrug. "Carry on, Centurion."

  Two soldiers fell in behind me as I moved away. Parast barked a handful of brisk commands and soldiers began to move to their tasks. Behind us, those families who had waited in the rain returned to their cheerless homes, damp and cold. I can't say I felt I had done well by them. Some of them might not survive the night. And there was damn little I could do about it.

  As we walked back in the rain, negotiating through the darkening town, I felt both tired and defeated. I could feel the grittiness in my eyes that signalled the weakening of the enhancements that Vesan had cast on me earlier in the day, what seemed an age ago. When they wore off I would feel weak and shaky, I knew. Ravenously hungry and too tired to eat. Parast and his entire century would be in the same state. I thought to send a message reminding him of it, but that would be foolish. He knew. What he would do about it was up to him. I guessed he would have Vesan recast the spells, or at least some of them. That came with its own dangers. A body could use itself up. Hearts could burst and men could die without as much as a hint of warning that they were pushing the limits of their endurance. If any thought could make me feel that things were worse than I already thought, that was it.