by Ben Yallop
‘Who was he?’ asked Weewalk, ‘What was his name?’
‘Adam Hain.’ Sam said happily and a weight he hadn't realised had existed seemed to lift from his shoulders.
‘Hmm, I don’t know him’ said Weewalk. He looked across to Hadan who creased his eyebrows but shook his head.
At that point a disturbance at the other end of the church drew their attention. Two men were pushing one another and raised voices could be heard.
‘It's you bloody foreigners startin' these fires.’ one shouted, ‘It's you bloomin’ Dutchies.’
‘I ain't Dutch, you idiot, I was at school with your sister.’ roared the other and gave the other man an almighty shove.
Others pushed their way between the men and hustled them outside where shouts could still be heard.
A woman sitting nearby looked over to Sam and the others. ‘I'd best be careful if I was you. People are nervous, they say the fire's spreadin' faster than it should, starting afresh in new houses. They say foreigners, French or Dutch, most likely, been seen sending firedrops out across the roofs. My cousin swears he saw a man throwing fireballs through doors, but then my cousin likes his ale if you know what I mean. Either way I'd say it were best if strangers like you kept themselves to themselves, 'specially if you're going to stare at sausages.’ She eyed Weewalk's dress and beard at this point before turning away.
‘She has a point.’ said Weewalk quietly. ‘We do need to get away from here and we have been getting some strange looks. We might have to try to get back to the same line if it's still there. Hopefully Ferus has moved on and his attention is elsewhere and the fire may have been put out there.’
‘Where do we go after London?’ asked Hadan.
‘Hmm, good question.’ said Weewalk, ‘How about The Island of the Pelicans?’
‘Too hard to get to.’ said Hadan.
‘Yonaguni?’
‘Underwater.'
They were silent for a while.
'What about the Mermaid?’ said Hadan.
‘Good idea.’ said Weewalk. ‘We'd be safe there and old Vallalar hangs out there sometimes. It'd be good to talk to him. See what he makes of our young friend. Actually, now you say it, I seem to think that it's exactly where we need to be.’
They quietly packed up and crept around the edge of the people and their possessions. They came out of the front door to find an official looking and portly man in discussion with other men on the steps.
‘We need action, Mr Bloodworth’, said one of the men nervously as they looked at the thick pall of smoke above the roofs ahead of them. It looked like the end of the world.
‘We need firebreaks.’ said another.
‘Pish!’ said the portly man ‘A woman could piss it out.’
The other men laughed nervously, but didn't look sure.
Sam and the others skirted them carefully and made off down a side street.
Aleksy smoothed out the grey tunic he had been given to replace the dirty ragged trousers he had worn below. The world above the dark mines could not have been in starker contrast to the pits below. The high echoing halls of the Rivenrok Complex were light and clean. The people who moved around above ground, both slaves and magicians, were orderly and neat. Aleksy was still struggling to see well after so many months in near total darkness but he stared at every detail, drinking in the space and freedom. For a moment his heart felt light but then the black-robed man who had taken him from the hell beneath his feet turned to him and Aleksy's mood darkened. His situation might be better but he was no more free than he had been before. As he had got closer to the surface he had felt another mind touch his own, interested, mocking, twisted and evil. The Riven King. Aleksy had felt his mind explored by the presence and had been able to hold almost nothing back in the way that he had with Grim. The mind pressed against his own like a blind man's fingers exploring a face. It did not see every detail but it had been able to explore closely enough that it had built a pretty good picture. Aleksy shuddered.
‘You will not speak unless spoken to.’ said the black-robed man in his smooth voice. ‘You will keep this section of this level clean. You will work until you are told to stop, then you will go to the slaves' quarters on the bottom floor. You will stay there until you are summoned. You will obey any command immediately. You will be watched.’
The man tapped a finger against his temple ‘We can see you. Always. Any mistake, any attempt to do other than I have told you, will be dealt with most severely.’
The black-robed man extended an arm casually to point at a slave who was carefully sweeping a corner at the end of the corridor in which they stood. The servant suddenly froze, looking around in terror. His eyes found them at the same time as his hands flew to clutch at his head. Then with a look of startled horror he dropped to the floor, blood trickling from his ears and nose. He twitched a few times and then fell still, his eyes unseeing. He had not made a sound.
The black-robed man straightened his sleeves. ‘Your first job is to clear that up. You will behave.’ He strode away leaving Aleksy alone in the corridor, anger coursing through his veins and the Riven King's thoughts at the edge of his mind, amused by the futility of his emotions.
Daylight allowed Sam a better look at the City as they moved through it, trying to track back the way they had come. The narrow streets were cobbled for the most part, packed earth in places, a muddy maze of narrow alleyways and tall thin houses that leaned out over the street, almost touching in places. The streets were clogged with people on the move, not necessarily going in the same direction. They pushed wagons and carts laden with goods and sometimes animals. Men shouted information to each other about the path of the fire. Several times Sam and the others had to divert around large areas that were aflame or places where the seething mass of people had ground to a halt unable to decide which way to turn. The haze of smoke was everywhere, its smell mixing with the stink of sewage from the gutters at the side of the street where dogs, cats and rats nosed through rubbish.
After having to detour around a particularly large fire they came to a wall which seemed to run around the City. They followed it until they came to a large gate but it was locked and barred by guards. A crush of people jostled and pushed before it, shouting and screaming at the guards to open the gate to let them through. But the guards only shouted that the people should go back to fight the fire. As Sam and the others stood trying to decide which way to go the crowd pressed more tightly and Sam saw an elderly lady fall, the crowd surged over, no-one sparing her a glance. Indeed, no-one seemed even to have noticed.
‘Hey, hey!’ he shouted and fought his way through the sea of people to the place she had disappeared, pulling at arms and clothing to get through. His foot touched her before he could see her beneath him. He looked down and was just able to see her hand poking up through the crush, an elderly hand with a ring bearing a red stone. Sam pushed and pushed at the people around him until he had made a little space. As he touched the woman's hand he felt like he'd had an electric shock but he managed to grip her arm as the crowd jostled him. He was barely able to haul the woman to her feet before the crowd surged back into the gap, threatening to crush them again. With one hand under her armpit Sam shoved his way back to where Weewalk and Hadan were moving people aside to let him through.
Sam and the lady came out of the crowd like a popped cork and all but collapsed as they suddenly cleared the edge. Sam sat the woman on a nearby step and crouched down beside her. He could see that one of her eyes was already starting to blacken and swell but otherwise she seemed unhurt, although she gasped for breath.
‘Thank... thank... thank you’ she managed. ‘I am … thank you.’ She gave him a weak smile.
A man hurried over a concerned look on his face. 'Mrs MacGuffin, are you okay? Thank goodness this gentleman was there to help.'
'Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you young man. You saved my life. Here.' she slipped the ring with the red stone from her finger and held it out to Sam. 'Take
it as a thank you.'
Sam smiled. 'No, honestly. I don't need anything. I'm just glad you're not too badly hurt.'
The sudden caw of a large crow sitting on a roof nearby made them all jump and turn.
Weewalk patted Sam on the shoulder. ‘I think she'll be fine. We should move.’
People were again starting to notice them and, despite Sam's actions, angry mutterings could be heard here and there. Sam stood, giving the lady a nod and a smile as he stepped back, suddenly feeling shaky and wobbly as adrenaline coursed through him. He rubbed his hand where he had touched the woman, his fingers still tingly from the strange sensation of touching her. Perhaps she had a presence, he thought. As he turned to leave Hadan whispered into his ear.
‘Now, I wonder who she is, what she will become and whether she was supposed to die today. How will tomorrow be different, now that you have saved her? Or was she always going to make it out of there?’
Sam looked at Hadan in momentary horror.
‘Not much you can do now.’ grinned Hadan. ‘You can't throw her back in. Don't worry. You did the right thing.’
Sam rubbed at his forehead, the momentary elation at his good deed quickly lost in a whirl of confusing thoughts, the end of which he could not seem to reach.
Weewalk took them back a little way before turning in again, towards the fire.
Presently they came to an area that had been entirely burnt. The charred and blackened shells of buildings and unrecognisable piles of woods and stone still smoked. Small fires flickered here and there but the blaze had eaten just about all it could. This part was deserted, everyone's attention focused elsewhere. After a couple of streets Sam recognised an alleyway they had taken the night before by the slope and twist of its cobbled surface. Now, more certain of their direction, they moved towards the bakery.
The building had gone. Hardly anything was left other than ashes and crumbling beams. The ground was hot underfoot and Sam could feel it through the soles of his shoes. After some searching they found a space where the dark maw of the cellar was visible. Pulling away a few beams with blackened hands they were able to make a space large enough to drop into. Much of the cellar was full of burnt wood. It was almost impossible to breathe with all the charred ash and smoke in the air but they found the line, its hum filling the air, and Weewalk was soon able to open it.
Chapter Ten
The cool dark tunnels of the London Underground were fresh after the smoke of old London. They walked for some time, Weewalk never allowing them to stop and, only occasionally, when there was no other route, taking them through the brightly lit stations. Eventually he paused before a door in a dark tunnel. There was no handle or keyhole. Weewalk moved his hand over the door, using presence to release the hidden mechanism inside and open the way, ushering them through before closing it carefully behind them. A stone archway lay ahead of them, a symbol of a mermaid etched into the stone at the point of the curve. Darkness hugged at the walls.
‘Here we are.’ said Weewalk, ‘We'll be safe in no time.’
At the sound of his voice a shadow detached itself from the wall to the side of them. Sam immediately thought of Ferus and tensed, ready to run, but as the figure stepped into the faint light of a bare weak bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling Sam saw that the stranger was small, a similar height to Weewalk, but less stocky. The figure spoke in a gruff voice.
‘Oose dere, ooo are ya?’
Weewalk spoke ‘Hödekin, is that you?’
‘Owd Hob?’ exclaimed the stranger and immediately bent to one knee.
‘Weewalk.’ said Weewalk sternly and the stranger rose sheepishly and came forward to grasp hands with him.
‘Sorry. Old habits.’
Sam could see that they were both kobolds but where Weewalk was thick set Hödekin was slim. Hödekin wore more common place clothing than his mine kobold cousin, but still the clothes looked as though they had been taken from a young boy. He wore a red cap firmly pulled down on his head. His round eyes peered out from under the peak.
‘Off to the Mermaid are ya?’ he said looking at them in turn ‘Well, you'll be welcome there sure enough. Jēran is taking in lots of folks at the moment, calling them all in, he is. Not safe for us no more. Riven are up to something. Yeren are prowling around. Yes, Jēran will see you safe at the Mermaid.’
‘But what are you doing here, old friend?’ asked Weewalk.
‘Jēran decided to post a guard, he did. Heard a rumour someone was coming through here. We take it in turns to watch the doors to the Mermaid. There are many paths to the Tavern.’
‘Here, let me introduce you to my friends.’ said Weewalk. ‘This is Hadan and Sam. This is Hödekin, a good friend of mine. A house kobold from the old days.’
Hödekin shook their hands, giving both of them a broad grin as he looked up into their faces.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘from the looks of you a hot bath and hot food is what is needed. Don’t let me keep you here.’
He turned to the archway and waved his hands. The line immediately sprang into life, sucking at what little light there was in the room. After giving their thanks they each stepped through the portal and away from the London Underground.
Arriving after Hadan, Sam found he had appeared in the middle of an enormous fireplace. Stretching apart his hands he could not touch the sides and he was able to walk out without ducking. He was thankful that no fire had been lit, it would have been the size of a bonfire, and he guessed that maybe that was one of the defences for this place. Surely no one, with the possible exception of Ferus, could use that line whilst a fire was burning here. The room he stepped into was empty of people, other than Hadan and Weewalk, and was not dissimilar from the old pub that his grandfather had sometimes taken him to back in the village at home. Sam turned on the spot, looking around. A long bar ran down the wall opposite the fireplace, dried hops hanging along its length. Latticed windows to one side allowed sunlight to creep across a deep red carpet. The room was full of tables and benches. The walls and ceiling were white with dark wooden beams set into them. Old iron weapons hung here and there and Sam saw a pair of crossed pikes on one wall and a spiked mace on another. A murmur of conversation came from a corridor to one side and mixed with the pleasant sound of tinkling water. Immediately Sam felt as though this was a place of safety and tranquillity.
‘Welcome to the Mermaid Tavern’ said Weewalk. ‘The owner is a man named Jēran. When you meet him, try not to stare at him. He’s a good man, and friendly, but he can get touchy about certain things. He's not someone to mess with so we'll be safe here for as long as we want.’
‘Is he on our side?’ asked Sam.
‘He's not on anyone's side.’ said Weewalk, ‘But he'll allow no trouble or harm for any of his guests.’
‘How can we pay him?’ said Sam, ‘I didn't bring any money.’
‘Let me worry about that.’ said Weewalk.
At that point a man entered the room. He was the biggest person Sam had ever seen. A giant. He barely fitted through the door behind the bar. He straightened up and looked at them, a slight scowl on his broad face. He held a glass in one enormous hand and he rubbed at it with a rag. He wore a dirty apron over rough brown clothes. He was bald but the forearms which stuck out of his sleeves were covered in thick black hair.
Weewalk spoke, looking smaller than ever before the huge man in front of him.
‘Hello Jēran. Do you have room for three?’
The man considered a moment, then gave a slow nod. He set the glass he had been wiping on a shelf above the bar and tucked the rag into the front of his apron. He raised a flap on the bar and strode out, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling and turning sideways to squeeze his huge frame through the opening. He walked past them towards the corridor giving Sam a hard look as he passed. Sam realised that he had been staring, his mouth slightly open, and he hurriedly swallowed and looked at Hadan who was also looking at him, but with a smirk. Jēran gave a jerk
of his head, motioning them to follow him.
They entered a long wood-panelled corridor but turned straight away to a set of steep rickety stairs which groaned under Jēran's weight as they climbed. They came onto a twisted corridor, the floor sloped noticeably. Taking a bunch of keys from a pocket the giant unlocked a door and held it open for them to enter. As he passed Sam could not help but notice that his head did not even come up to the height of the huge arm that held open the door.
The room contained four single beds and other assorted mismatched wooden furniture. More latticed windows looked out onto a lush green garden where the sunlight of what seemed to be a warm summer's evening threw the shadow of large trees across a beautiful lawn. Jēran nodded at them and backed out of the doorway, closing the door behind him.
Weewalk immediately hopped onto a bed, his dirty boots hanging over the edge and sighed. ‘It’ll be good to sleep in a bed again.’ he said happily, bouncing up and down.
Sam pulled off his shoes and chose another of the beds.
‘Jēran doesn't say much does he?’
‘He hasn't spoken a single word since his wife died.’ said Weewalk, ‘They were closer than anyone you'll ever meet. He named the Tavern after her.’
‘The Mermaid?’ said Sam confused.
‘Yup,’ said Weewalk, ‘She loved our giant friend just as much as he loved her. One of the Nommo, she was. A Selkie. They say she was a beauty the like of which has never been seen.’
‘But she was a mermaid?’ said Sam, still trying to catch up.
‘She was a Nommo tribeswoman from Mu. But, yes, in essence that is a mermaid if you're talking about human mythology. I wouldn't mention her around our host, if you know what's good for you.’
Sam sank into a steaming hot bath up to his chin. It felt amazing. He hadn't felt clean in days. He'd let Weewalk and Hadan use the bathroom first so that he could have as long as he wanted in the hot water. A fresh set of clothes waited for him on the soft bed back in the room. He used his fingernails to scrub at the dirt on his legs and arms and he kneaded his tired muscles with his knuckles. He studied a number of blisters on his feet. It would be good to rest here for a while. The Tavern seemed so tranquil and friendly.