The Two Artefact Discs: Azabar's Icicle Part 1

by Jem I Kelley

  Granddad Todd rolled his eyes, “plenty.”

  Aden didn’t know what that little exchange was about and glancing at Bliss realized he didn’t either.

  “Course, if on the dirt rare chance it does open to another world and it ain’t your artefact anymore because you’ve sold it, you won’t get to use it,” said Granddad Todd.

  “What…” said Arthur Todd, Bliss’s dad, “what if a raffle were made of the disc?”

  Granddad Todd regarded his son with disbelief.

  “We’d have to pay printers and someone to run the rule over the event, it’ll cost the earth.”

  “But people would buy the tickets. The chance of a dream,” said Arthur Todd fervently. “We’d easily be able to cover costs.”

  “Mmm. It’s an idea,” said Grandfather Eavis, with an expression on his chubby face which said, ‘but not an awfully good one’.

  Arthur Todd sat back, crossed his arms and frowned.

  “I just thought I’d mention it.”

  Martha Todd rested her knitting on her lap and spoke in a firm voice.

  “When you’ve all finished deciding what to do with Bliss and Aden’s disc; and probably finished planning what you’re going to do with all this money you think you’ll get, perhaps you’ll let them go on to their second shift. If they don’t leave soon, they’ll be late.”

  Granddad Todd winked.

  “Well spoken, Martha. We don’t want Hacknor getting onto them again.”

  “If he does, he’ll have me to worry about.”

  Granddad Todd looked at Martha in a kindly but determined manner.

  “I’ll be the judge of if Hacknor is overdoing things, understand?”

  “Oh, in the circumstances, I suppose so. But, I’ll only take so much from him.”

  Aden wondered why anyone should be tolerant of Hacknor bullying them, when Granddad Todd spoke again.

  “One thing you two...”

  “Yes?”

  “You press the button on a Disc - you could die on the spot. Remember, almost one in ten testers do die. None of us is going to be very happy if after missing you for two years, we hear you’ve gone and killed yourself experimenting with the thing. Anyhow, it’s illegal for non-disc-men to test a artefact. So I want you to promise to us all now that if you get a artefact off Plumbert, you’re not going to press any buttons?”

  “There’s a safeguard on it,” said Aden. “All artefacts have a little black dot on the button, which you’ve got to line up with a dot on the disc; otherwise the button can’t be pressed.”

  Martha Todd, who had re-started her needlework paused and regarded the friends.

  “You know what Grandfather Todd means. You’re not going to press the button, are you?”

  Aden’d had vague plans of aligning the dots, just closing his eyes, and pressing the thing. He looked for a way out of answering Martha's question, but all the adults were staring at them.

  “Well, um, you know we haven’t talked about it much yet.”

  Grandfather Eavis began coughing. Eavis’s cough rattled his chest. A hawking cough which produced strings of spit and left its owner gasping for breath. Everyone watched him with concern; Aden realised Grandfather Eavis coughed a lot these days.

  He recovered and wiped at his lips with a handkerchief. Panting he replaced the handkerchief in his pocket.

  “Is that a no?” he asked. “You’re not going to press the button?”

  Aden was aware of a lot of eye watching his reaction.

  “All right. No!” He snapped angrily, and Bliss shook her head in an annoyed fashion, before adding to Aden's promise: “No. We won’t.”

  Chapter 25: Marti’s Skeletons

  Hacknor stared at his fob watch as the two friends arrived for work outside his office; the way his face fell suggested they were on time.

  “Were you delayed?”

  Bliss tried to get a glimpse of the watch-face.

  “Are we late?”

  Hacknor snapped the lid on the watch and placed the timepiece in a pocket on his waistcoat.

  “No.”

  He proceeded to give out instructions for the afternoon shift.

  Aden found himself with Weever, delivering bundles of paper to Arch-Bishop Claverly of Haverland Cathedral. Weever’d been on the market as long as Aden and though he wasn’t one of Aden’s close friends, Aden’d always got along with him o.k.

  Today, though, Weever seemed distant, strange because only two weeks ago he’d slapped Aden on the back during the celebrations and called him a hero.

  As they carried bundles of paper down the stone staircase towards the Cathedral catacombs, Aden asked if there anything was wrong.

  “No,” said Weever, shifting his bundle to get a better grip. He hesitated, “Not many people could have stolen Disc-Artefacts from Lord Kesskran’s brother.”

  “I think we were just lucky.”

  Weever lapsed into quiet.

  “Getting to the Grey Hind was fairly lucky too.”

  “Yeah,” said Aden, “If it weren’t for seaman Solley being sick who knows what might have happened.”

  Weever let a few moments pass before speaking again.

  “What do you think of the Wall; I mean, I know it exaggerates things and has a lot of gossip, but sometimes it can be right, can’t it.”

  Aden realised what the boy edged around with his words.

  “Look, Weever. Bliss did not steal those jewels to help out her parents and I don’t like the way she’s being made out to look like she’s a slow troublemaker, either.”

  “I didn’t think she did. It’s just, well; you kept quiet about the artefacts until it came on the Wall a week ago. The Wall has also said you know of a threat to the Kingdom. You haven't mentioned that to anyone on the market. Why are you keeping secrets from your friends?”

  They were in the shadows between two torches and Aden couldn’t make out the expression in the boy’s eyes.

  Aden and Bliss had told a lot of people about the discs, but not many about the threat to the Kingdom of Haverland. Aden wondered where the Wall had learnt its information. Surely only he, Bliss, Bliss’s family and Plumbert knew about the ‘threat’?! Of course, Plumbert would have told Inspector Thomas by now, and perhaps other police officers would know. But, those officers wouldn’t have told anyone else, would they?

  “We didn’t want to scare people,” he said

  “That’s fair enough, for me,” replied the boy. “It’s just some people think you had different motives…”

  Weever continued to talk, as Aden speculated that perhaps two policemen had inadvertently mentioned the threat to Haverland a bit close to the Wall. Aden realised he wasn’t listening to Weever, and forced himself to be attentive.

  “… Some people wonder if you got those artefacts in other ways, that they were payment. Not me of course, I don’t think you’re like that. But, well, you have been lucky.”

  “Why would Sardohan threaten us with court if we were in with him and Kesskran?”

  “Perhaps it’s all part of the plan, to make it look like you’re not all on the same side. There’s a new article on the Wall which says Sardohan’s decided not to press charges against you now. Some are wondering whether he ever really intended to go to court at all?”

  “Look,” said Aden. “We didn’t steal the jewels. We didn’t steal the discs, we returned them to where they belong, Haverland. We kept quiet about the threat to the kingdom because we didn’t want the wrong people to know the police knew about it!”

  The rest of the short journey down the steps occurred in silence and Aden felt relieved to see a friendly face when he entered the vaulted area beneath the Cathedral.

  Marti Bart stood with Priest Hopily, a round man who wore harsh brown cloth as if it were silk. Aden wondered if something was wrong with Hopily, surely no-one should be content wearing clothing so uncomfortable?

  Skeletons stood in formation near the men. Aden dropped the bundle he carried when he
saw the bony figures.

  Of course, both boys had seen non-living creatures before. Hamble, the wooden golem could be seen cleaning the streets most times of the day; but, skeletons? You didn’t expect to turn a corner and see skeletons standing in a line; looking all the world as if they might be queuing for a good cut of meat at Bern the butchers.

  Marti waved.

  “Hello Aden.”

  Aden choked a greeting back and gathered the dropped bundle from the floor.

  Hopily saw them, and gestured to a cobwebbed corner where crates stood. “Put them there lads, marvellous job, thanks.”

  Aden and Weever obeyed the instructions. They made the journey up and down the stairwell eight times. Weever cast a stared at the skeletons each trip; the sort of look Aden figured he’d given the large spider on his cell floor five weeks ago; a look, which says, I just know you’re going to move in my direction, if I take my eyes off you.

  Aden wondered what Marti wanted with these creatures of bone. On the Grey Hind the Novogoradian said he’d be searching for trade goods from the disc-worlds when he reached Haverland.

  The last bundles of paper delivered, and dust settling, Weever sat for a rest and a bite of bread and cheese, well away from the swaying undead.

  Aden strode to where the priest and the Novogoradian talked. He felt afraid of the gleaming white figures, but hid the fear.

  “I don’t know,” said Hopily with is hand to his jaw. The priest’s mouth twisted in deformity and when younger, the friends had called him hair-lip Hopily. Aden experienced guilt about this now and wondered whether he’d have to do particularly good deeds as an adult to stave off purgatory when he died.

  “I just don’t know. Any force which re-animates the dead is evil. Whether the product created is evil? I can’t say. Certainly they haven’t committed any deed in the last few hundred years more terrible than being difficult to dust.”

  The skeletons swayed, oblivious to the discussion about them.

  “For sure, you cannot de-animate them?”

  “No. Don’t know how to. The wretched sorcerer who made them was probably the only one who could have unmade them.”

  “Not the Amari?”

  “No, they couldn’t be bothered, according to our archives.”

  Aden looked into the sockets of the skull belonging to the closest skeleton. A dull red spark flickered at the centre of the blackness. He felt no threat from the spark. In fact, he didn’t feel much at all from the skeleton; no intelligence possessed it; no wit: it held all the life of a lump of hot coal.

  Once it lived, Aden realized. It could have been a cobbler, a soldier or a fisherman; A human with flesh, habits, and family. Not now.

  “For sure,” said Marti, putting an old hat stitched with runes, and sporting a black feather, on his head, “Perhaps they can be used for good?”

  “You mean for profit?”

  A smile formed on Marti’s broad head: “Surely; but, if I give you money from this venture. How will you use it?”

  “For the church and the poor,” conceded the priest, sucking the air through the gap in his mouth. “The money will pay to heal the blessed sick, who suffer as Gabrien suffered; the money will cloth the poor who wander naked.” Aden thought the priest’s benign features held a hint of doubt in them.

  Marti looked down at Aden: “Watch this, please.”

  Touching the black feather, Marti pointed at the closest Skeleton.

  “Uulug says...” he turned to Aden with a boyish grin: “It is like the ‘Simon says game’, no?” He turned back to the skeleton. A shimmer passed along the feather on the hat.

  “Uulug says, step forward.”

  The skeleton lurched. Aden felt a pulse run down his spine. Hopily stepped back; he smiled at everyone to show he wasn’t afraid. His teeth shone.

  “Uulug says, fetch bundle of paper and bring it here.”

  The skeleton bounded off towards the bundles of paper. Weever looked up, shrieked, dropped the slab of cheese in his hand and ran to the bottom of the stairway, where he cowered.

  The skeleton reached the bundles, lifted one, and raced back; the bones of its feet beat a staccato on the stone of the catacomb floor. Marti accepted the bundle from the creature.

  “Thank you.”

  Hopily and Aden exchanged wan expressions. Aden realized the combination of hat and command word gave the Novogoradian power over the skeleton.

  Marti looked for inspiration for the next demonstration. He noticed a mouse.

  “Uulug says chase mouse for ten second and then return to me.”

  Marti pointed at the rodent, which sniffed wine racks close to the catacomb walls. The skeleton raced off. As it approached the mouse, the thing gave fright and darted alongside the wall towards a hole, yards away. The skeleton followed. The mouse reached the hole and bolted into it. The skeleton continued to approach the hole, then, as ten seconds passed, came to a stop and raced back to Marti, who swung round to Aden and Hopily.

  “Good, yes? Much they could do. They do not eat, or drink, they can work under water or in burning sun. Perfect for jobs which unpleasant for normal person, yes?”

  Hopily swallowed and looked at the skeletons with obvious concern.

  “They’re hundred of years old; no problem with relatives taking offence. There is a certain logic to what you propose. I am trying to picture how our patron Saint Gabrien would have handled this. I look to him for inspiration; he would have known. Of course, he never actually had this sort of problem to deal with.”

  Hopily glanced to where Weever crept back for his sandwich.

  “Skeletons clearing the cess pits, or performing pest control or whatever other unpopular task you’ve got in mind, is pious work, I have to admit. People could get upset though if they notice a skeleton walking down their road. I think you’ll need to cloth the things.”

  “For sure. A simple uniform; hood for head; boots too, to stop the bones of their feet wearing away.”

  Hopily grimaced, “I’ll broach the idea to the Arch-Bishop. Even if he says yes, it’ll probably be for a limited trial to begin with.”

  “That is fair,” said Marti.

  “Fine.”

  Hopily glanced at the foremost skeleton with an expression of uncertainty, “I’ll speak to you later.”

  “For sure. I’ll be here.”

  Hopily left by the staircase, Marti turned to Aden.

  “I come here to pray and I hear Hopily talk about dusting off animated skeletons in catacombs. It give me idea. He tell me about magic hat and command word. I experiment. What do you think?”

  Aden knew of the skeletons existence before today. Common folklore maintained the church kept the result of foul necromancy hidden at the back of the catacombs. People would mention it occasionally whilst fingering a cross on their chest and spitting to their right. No one Aden knew had ever seen them, nor thought of using them as sewer cleaners, either.

  “Don’t know,” said Aden. “Part of me thinks it’s weird and part of me thinks it’s a good use of them, but I thought you were going to trade goods to Dazarian?”

  Aden thought Marti looked at him oddly for a moment, but perhaps he imagined it.

  “Maybe I try skeleton project here for while. You are happy to be home?”

  Aden winced, and told Marti about the Wall's continuing gossip.

  “Ah I see,” said Marti with a sympathetic smile. “I will make point of visiting Wall several times over next few weeks. I will make muttering the bad stories about you and Bliss come from people who are jealous of your Disc-Artefacts and want to cause trouble. Maybe it will listen and carve such words into itself, no?”

  “I hope so.”

  Marti brushed his huge hand in a nervous fashion through his mass of blond hair.

  “So... Wall, say troubles is coming to Haverland. It say you warn Haverland police, yes?”

  Aden sighed. Life used to be so much simpler. Now the Wall commented on everything he did. Being a public f
igure wasn’t fun.

  “That part’s true. Don’t know how the damn thing found out. Bliss and I didn’t mention anything about any threat to Haverland when we were near it.”

  “Who did you tell about trouble?”

  “Ambassador Hardy and Sergeant Plumbert.”

  “No one else?”

  “No.”

  Marti grunted and pursed his lips. He didn’t need to say what he thought.

  “How did you and Bliss first learn of this threat? You heard perhaps from a sailor on the Grey Hind?”

  “No we overheard Tanest and Sardohan discuss it in prison.”

  “So you don’t know nature of this threat?”

  Aden thought about the drugs on the Grey Hind. Then with a start, remembered Marti’s action on the vessel; the sneaking into the hold. Marti said he’d been a farmer in Novogorad. But what if he’d been something else? His hands weren’t farmer’s hands: lined spade-like, rough. Aden came to a quick decision about mentioning the Yeccozin powder in the caskets.

  “No, no idea.”

  Marti stared at Aden.

  “Plumbert and the police; are they going to investigate?”

  Aden felt uncomfortable, here in the catacombs of the Cathedral, surrounded by skeletons and with Marti firing question after question at him. He glanced towards the stairs; they seemed distant.

  “I guess so.”

  Marti’s expression remained serious. He put his hand on Aden’s shoulder. It seemed the size of a bear’s, and if Marti really wanted to Aden felt the Novogoradian could break bones with a swipe.

  “You have to be very careful Aden. Dazarians are dangerous. Once already you were framed for stealing jewels. Sardohan may try to make trouble for you because you have warned the Haverland about this danger?”

  Aden swallowed. Marti loomed like a bear on its hind legs.

  “Might do.”

  “Well, I be on lookout for trouble from the Dazarians, for sure. We shall all be in this together, yes”

  Aden smiled weakly and nodded.

  Chapter 26: Saib’s Snake

  “You should have asked for a skeleton ride back to the market,” said Bliss later when they talked about it.