by Tom Lloyd
‘Rhe’s going for the shrines?’ Enchei asked, the rest of them having kept a respectful distance from the conversation. ‘And he’s made friends with Prince Sorote – enough that Kashte’s at his disposal?’
‘Rhe’s always been determined to have Imperial power rule the streets of the city,’ Narin said through gritted teeth as they started up the slope. ‘I can’t help but wonder if he was happy to tell House Dragon about the summoner’s likely safe-house. Their power in the city gets momentarily crippled and the Lawbringers are there to restore order.’
‘Is that what Sorote’s about? Increasing the Emperor’s power?’ Kesh asked sceptically.
Narin exchanged a look with Enchei, who scowled. ‘I doubt Sorote’s really the public-spirited sort.’
‘Man’s playing a dangerous game,’ Enchei added, ‘but he’s good at it, I’ll give the bastard that.’ He looked up at the empty road ahead, running down the centre of the Tier Bridge with darkened shop fronts on either side. ‘More importantly, Rhe’ll get there ahead of us.’
‘No he won’t,’ Maiss declared, hitching up the sheathed rapier at her side. ‘I’ll get to him first. If I run I can make up the ground, maybe catch them at the Iron Bridge.’
‘He doesn’t know you,’ Narin said. ‘He’ll be especially suspicious at some warrior caste running through the city alone on an errand.’
‘He wants to see my caste tattoos, fine. He wants to interrogate me about who I am, where I’m from, he can whistle for it.’
Enchei nodded. ‘He’ll assume she’s my Ghost handler. The man always thought I was lying to him about being retired. Now I guess it’s closer to the truth than I’d like anyway. What the Imperials will make of her I couldn’t say.’ He nodded to Maiss. ‘Go. Send the humourless sod my love.’
The young woman sprinted off, sure-footed despite the rime of ice and packed snow coating the city. Narin and the others upped their pace without anyone saying a word, but it was only moments before Maiss had disappeared into the fog. It was normally dangerous out on the streets late at night, but Narin doubted any footpads could trouble her.
While there was little breeze coming off the sea, the exposed bridge was even more intensely cold than the freezing streets and Narin found himself glad of the faster pace. They couldn’t run all the way, or at least Narin and Kesh couldn’t, but with the starlight of the Gods lighting the city they could at least walk with a forced briskness. He coughed to clear his throat, the sound echoing strangely around the deserted lower tier of the bridge, and began to relate to his comrades all he could remember about his visit to the strange House Gold shrines.
Whether they appreciated the distraction from what horrors they might find, Narin couldn’t tell, but he kept on regardless and pushed thoughts of his new-found family right to the back of his mind. He was cold enough without feeling that all-too-familiar chill of fear return.
Narin finally spotted the tall, motionless figure of Lawbringer Rhe waiting for them with Maiss on the far shore as they crossed the final step of the Mason’s Bridge. The high sides of the bridge had sheltered them from the breeze, but the stone itself radiated a fierce cold. By the time he had reached the shore of Iron District, Narin was yearning for another layer under his coat. All he got was the expected look of frosty disapproval from Rhe as he knelt to the Imperial castes then bowed to his superior.
His companions did the same except Myken and Enay, who merely bowed as high castes, grey scarves wrapped around the Ghost’s face – as much to hide her from the Imperials as against the cold.
‘You have new friends, Investigator,’ Rhe said coolly. ‘I had not thought you a man to share your exploits so freely.’
Narin suppressed a wince, knowing Rhe was aware he’d taken the credit for Enchei’s feat of arms on more than one occasion.
‘They are friends of the highest discretion,’ he assured the Lawbringer. ‘I trust them as highly as your new friends.’
‘Your new friends?’ echoed Prince Kashte at Rhe’s side. ‘Are we no longer your friends, Narin?’
Even in the cold of winter, the young Imperial managed to convey an image of being effortlessly, thoughtlessly, rakish and handsome. His scarf and hood shone gold in the light of the torches they carried – the intricate embroidery of black and gold on his coat reminiscent of Lord Shield’s clothing when Narin had met the Ascendant God on the streets of Dragon.
‘My apologies, Prince Kashte,’ Narin said with another bow. ‘I meant my benefactor, whom Lawbringer Rhe has only recently met.’
‘A famous name does make quite an impression on us all,’ Kashte smiled, fluttering his eyelids. ‘Do your companions have names?’
‘Keel and Holin,’ Maiss supplied before anyone could contradict her.
‘Mercenaries who owe a favour or two,’ Enchei added, ‘yer princeship. Don’t you worry about them.’
Kashte’s smile never wavered as he inclined his head. As an Imperial he could hardly fail to recognise the given names of the Ascendant Gods, Lady Spy and Lady Dancer, but he made no objection to the pseudonyms.
‘So you’ve had the same notion as I, Narin?’ Rhe said.
‘We did after what we saw in Dragon,’ he replied. ‘No single summoner’s managing all that.’
‘Do you propose a plan of attack?’
Narin shrugged and glanced at Enchei. The veteran nodded. ‘Same as before.’
Rhe raised an eyebrow. ‘As on Confessor’s Island? I seem to recall we took all of the casualties that day.’
‘Doesn’t mean you took all the risks,’ Enchei said, pointing at the assembled party behind Rhe. ‘And you had every Lawbringer you could muster then, now you’ve only got trained fighters.’
With Prince Kashte there were two dozen more Imperial castes carrying the beautifully-crafted rifles they had employed to great effect against the goshe. On top of that, Rhe had assembled a similar number of high-born Lawbringers and perhaps a dozen gun-carrying Investigators. Narin recognised many faces among them, but none he considered friends.
He was not in the habit of befriending his betters and being raised to Lawbringer by Imperial writ would have galled many. There were precious few friendly looks among them and all Narin could be sure of was that Rhe had selected only those he could trust completely.
‘So we attack and draw their fire,’ Kashte recalled, ‘while you sneak in the back and try to cut the summoner’s throat.’
Enchei scowled. ‘Before they drag some demon prince through the veil to tear all our faces off, yes.’
Kashte gave Enchei and Irato a searching look, clearly trying to work out what he didn’t know. Narin had downplayed their efforts at foiling the goshe, putting success down to the efforts of the fox-demons and the majority of guards facing the Lawbringers. Enough of that had been true to make it plausible, but it was stretching matters to expect to get away with it again. Narin just had to hope they could find an explanation – or threat – to ensure Enchei’s secrets were kept, but surviving this was going to be hard enough.
‘Go, then. We’ll give you time to get into position then follow and announce ourselves,’ Rhe said.
‘You’re going to tell them they’re all under arrest first, aren’t you?’ Enchei said wearily.
‘I am not a soldier, I am a servant of the Emperor’s law,’ was Rhe’s stiff reply. ‘If we act no better than the soldiers that rule our streets, what’s the point of claiming we are different?’
‘Aye, there is that,’ Enchei said.
Narin pointedly brushed past his friend as he set off, heading for the interior of Iron District, and Enchei got the hint, falling in beside Narin without another word. The others followed along and none of them spoke until they were past the Lawbringers and out of earshot.
‘So Rhe brings out your good side, eh?’ Maiss asked from behind her father.
‘Mark my words,’ Enchei said darkly, ‘the hypocrisy of that one’ll kill more’n a few of his fellows. Now he claims superior authority, w
ith high-born guns at his side? Mebbe if House Dragon had oppressed this city he’d have a case, but they’ve protected the Emperor’s position as well as any.’
‘On our side now?’ Myken called from the rear.
He glanced back, clearly surprised she had spoken up. ‘On no one’s side ’cept my own, but I won’t ignore truth. Dragon’s been this city’s protectors for centuries and the wealth has flowed in, not out. I’ve seen conquest and oppression – this ain’t it, not by a long shot. That the high castes of the city might not like it ain’t the greatest problem in—’
‘Let’s start with problems like hellhounds then, shall we?’ Kesh interjected. ‘Do you have a plan like last time?’
Enchei shook his head. ‘Unless killing everyone and everything in our path is a plan?’
‘There’s only seven of us,’ she pointed out. ‘How about we find something a little more clever than that?’
‘Like we’re outnumbered, they probably know we’re coming for them, and this’ll be a trap of both demons and Astaren?’ Enchei’s sour response was met with silence.
Narin glanced back at Kesh and forced a smile. ‘Something better than that,’ he said. ‘Something that involves our own demons – our own Astaren.’
‘Who made you officer in charge, eh?’ said Enchei.
‘You did, every bloody time you made me take the credit.’
Enchei laughed at that. ‘Good point. Guess that makes me the sergeant who gets all the important stuff done.’
‘Are you both finished?’ Enay demanded.
Narin and Enchei exchanged a look.
‘Don’t have daughters,’ the veteran said. ‘She was this bossy even as a child. Ah, too late for you, isn’t it? Well then, don’t have two.’
CHAPTER 36
Oh brother of mine, what have I done?
Sorpan crouched on the roof of the Minerild in the lee of a shrine recently desecrated with bloody symbols. He was not alone, but of the other figures up there only one possessed a soul and Sorpan considered that a tattered, pathetic thing.
A little treachery, you would not have begrudged me that, Sorpan thought, picturing the grey-haired veteran he’d met the year previously. Such is the nature of our lives. Those of us not destined for greatness must still make our own way.
He bowed his head, unable to look out at the mist-veiled streets through which, he was sure, the hero he’d betrayed was approaching. The city was quiet, cowed to silence by the demons that haunted its shadows and the brutal cold of winter. Distant echoes brought the voices of hellhounds to him, faint on the feeble breeze, while the occasional gasp and moan of pain came from a figure much closer to hand – one he wished he could not see.
And it turns out they were right about me. Whatever flaw they identified, whatever led to the quiet, painless stalling of my career, that seems to have been my undoing. I never intended this – as the Gods are my witness, I did not.
A pale figure ascended the stairway behind Sorpan and moved up beside him. ‘You’re quiet,’ he commented.
‘I’ll be dead soon, Kebrai,’ Sorpan replied. ‘That makes a man want a few moments with his thoughts.’
The Leviathan made an amused sound. ‘You think us so vulnerable?’
‘Expendable, not vulnerable.’ He looked up at to meet Kebrai’s disconcerting lilac eyes. ‘Even you.’
‘Who is not expendable in this world?’
Sorpan looked away. ‘I’m Astaren. I’ve no use for feeble fatalism.’
‘Very well. Answer me this – why would Priest plan to throw our lives away?’
‘Because all this has little to do with my countryman. All that’s happening in the city, the tattooist and I are both incidental to it.’
‘You think Priest cannot pursue two goals at once?’
‘I think I will not survive to see either.’
Kebrai was quiet a moment. ‘Priest is not wasteful, certainly not with those of value. Do you doubt your worth, whether or not we take the mind of this tattooist?’
‘My value comes with a danger – I don’t know what the Sea Lords think of their Astaren striking out on their own, but I doubt Priest wants such attention from House Ghost too if she’s already antagonising House Dragon.’
‘That is Priest’s problem.’
‘And my life.’
The Leviathan smiled unexpectedly. ‘Perhaps this will cheer you then, I have orders for you.’
‘What? Where’s Priest?’
‘Nearby. We anticipate the tattooist and his friends will be coming here. When that happens, you will ensure the Senior Kobelt escapes and heads toward the river. There’s a palazzo at the far end of the Steel Steps bearing the family arms of Sultatrair – the family are wintering elsewhere. Priest will meet you there.’
‘We’re to be bait?’
‘Priest remains determined to take the tattooist. That has not changed and there’s no conflict with any other plans she might be pursuing. One might even complement the other, but what’s certain is that Priest isn’t foolish enough to waste a man of your skills. Bait you might be, but the sight of you is bait enough. Not your death.’
Sorpan pursed his lips as he thought. ‘Why the Kobelt? If he’s an agent of Priest’s, he can take care of himself. If not, why is he important?’
‘He has a further role to play.’
‘Like Sharish?’
Sorpan forced himself to look to his right across the roofs and shrines towards the raised crescent of wall that rose around a quarter of the Minerild’s perimeter. His mage-blessed eyes meant he could see every detail of the shamaness’ pain – chained to the brick wall and linked to the rooftop shrines.
Her clothes and flesh had both been torn by shadow claws and her blood ran freely, but it was the spiked crown that fixed her to the wall and linked her to the shrines that was the greatest horror. He knew he could do nothing for the woman, but the sight of her reduced to a mere tool to engineer horror sickened him more than the experienced Astaren would have expected. Or perhaps it just reminded him of his betrayal, and he found that harder to stomach than expected.
The entire summoning effort was being directed through her mind. Priest had turned on her suddenly and without mercy. Sharish had stood no chance of escape before she was handed, crippled and stunned, to the strange pagan priest who had welcomed them here – Senior Kobelt Geret Hoke – who had acted as though he had always been party to their plans, had known what was going on better than Sorpan. He had been the one to draw more and more horrors from the shadow realms, to the brief astonishment of his own Kobelen and acolytes. And then they had succumbed almost all at once, their souls swallowed by the hellhounds driven into their minds.
And he has done it better than I could have ever expected from some civilian pagan, certainly when he called a demon-prince of their realm. Sorpan paused. Which is the whole point. Gods, what a fool I am!
‘The Terim,’ he said slowly. ‘Such a powerful demon is too great for most minds, it would destroy them almost immediately. But if a mind was already enslaved by something lesser beforehand, that might prepare it enough for a demon – for a time at least.’
Kebrai gave him a level look. ‘I see you understand.’
Understand? Oh yes. I understand Priest is in bed with House Eagle and their Mindwalkers. If ever I doubted how expendable I might be, I’m sure the twisted soul of the Mindwalker inside Geret Hoke will be happy to confirm it as it watches me die.
‘Where is he?’
‘In the central forge, down below.’
Sorpan nodded and returned to his vigil. ‘I will see it done.’ Too late to go back now.
‘This isn’t going to be easy.’
Narin glanced around at his comrades. ‘Did anyone expect that?’ he asked, clenching his fists less in anticipation of the fight to come than an effort to keep them warm.
Enchei shrugged. ‘I’m reminding you,’ he growled. ‘Given the numbers we just saw back there, it’s worth saying twice.’
‘How many?’
‘On view? Half a dozen novices prowling the rooftops, all possessed. Patrolling the perimeter you’ve got teams of guards, Sea Snakes if my guess is right.’
‘Astaren?’
‘More like pets of Astaren,’ Enchei said. ‘A warrior cult from Leviathan, trained from birth to work as a unit – brains half-fried on drugs, but all the more dangerous for it. They get sold in broods to work as mercenaries. Given what I was told about there being a Benthic Knight behind this company, it’s no surprise they brought Sea Snakes with them.’
Maiss nodded. ‘We came across a handful in Sight’s End once – skin so pale they look dead already, they take wounds like it too. Don’t notice injuries until you put them down.’
‘And what if we come across this Benthic Knight?’
Enchei scowled. ‘Run – all of you.’ He looked pointedly at his daughters. ‘I’m serious, unless you got that one dead to rights with the Dragon’s Breath, run away. Maybe with your new passenger, Irato, you can take one, but not the rest of you. I ain’t so keen on it either, but the choice ain’t mine.’
‘We’ve got all the skills you have, Father,’ Enay objected, but Enchei just raised a hand to stop her.
‘No – you really don’t. Your body’s been changed the same as mine, that’s all. Don’t mistake that for twenty years’ training and battlefield experience, let alone my armour.’
She bit her lip and nodded. ‘Just don’t think we’re precious and helpless.’
‘I’ve seen you in action, remember?’ Enchei gave a brief, fierce smile that gave Narin a cold sensation in his gut. ‘You’ll be getting your hands bloody.’
His friend was an irreverent and calm figure most of the time, but now he had the look of a bone-deep killer. It was disconcerting to see the man strike a match and ignite that part of his soul, the part Enchei had now been running from for decades.
Is that how he was chosen? Narin wondered. For the ability to choose which self he wears, or is it just something buried in his mind by the mage-priests who changed him? Gods, which would I even prefer? I still see the faces of those I’ve killed, but would I want a dead corner of my soul like that?