Soffjian nodded quickly, her own smile wry. “She is a bright woman, and wants desperately to return to her side of the Veil for reasons known. She will be compliant.”
“Or dead,” Azmorgon rumbled.
Soffjian regarded the huge lieutenant coldly, smile gone. “That did go without saying. So it is no surprise you said it.”
Braylar turned to me. “You will stay with the Jackals. We should only be in Sunwrack for—”
“No,” I replied, my mouth moving of its own accord.
The captain’s smile disappeared. “What did you just say to me?”
I resisted the urge to lick my lips as I felt everyone staring at me. “With all due respect, Captain, I deserve to go as well.”
“Do you?” The question was flat and all the more threatening for it.
“I do. I helped us cross the Godveil. I discovered the means of undoing Cynead’s hold on the Memoridons. I suggested using the rain for cover to escape. The point is, I’ve served you admirably in every capacity, performing every task you have assigned, and gone beyond that, far beyond that, shooting people with crossbows, saving your life at least once, arguably more than that.” I took a deep breath. “But the real reason I deserve to go is that is what you promised me.”
Braylar’s eyes narrowed, only a touch, but enough to let me know I was in dangerous territory. “Did I indeed? Refresh my memory, archivist.”
I pressed on. “When you hired me, it was presumably to be exactly that, your chronicler, your archivist, to bear witness to every strategy and plot and mission you undertook. Obviously the main reason was to translate, but I have recorded, every step of the way. And I can’t very well continue if you leave me behind.”
Braylar’s stare made me squirm, and it was Vendurro who might have saved me, saying, “Kind of has a point, Cap. He’s your arc.”
Azmorgon raised his bushy eyebrows. “Arc? What’s a plaguing ‘arc’?”
Vendurro replied, “Arc. Archivist. That’s what he does.”
“Look at Squirrel, doling out nicknames now. Huh.”
“It’s not a nickname, just short for—”
Braylar held up a hand, eyes still on me. “You have accompanied us every step of the way. That much is true. But this particular stretch of the journey is more fraught with peril than most.”
I wondered at the folly of my reply but couldn’t seem to stall it. “I’ve braved—well, endured, anyway—rippers, hordes of Hornmen, vengeful Brunesmen, not to mention massive Deserters—who could be demons or monsters, still to be determined. I’m not about to let a short crawl through an aqueduct scare me off now, even if there are eighty thousand Leopards on the other end.”
Braylar gave one curt nod and then turned to Mulldoos. “Is Sergeant Bruznik up to the task of riding herd on the remaining Jackals?”
“Aye, Cap. If you hadn’t picked Ven for lieutenant, I would have said Sergeant Bruznik. Good man, capable, respected.”
Braylar said, “Settled then. Muldoos, Vendurro, Azmorgon, convey the orders, and select your men for our little jaunt through the aqueduct. Make sure those staying with Bruznik know their duties. The rest of you, check your gear, rest while you are able, and fill your bellies. We depart soon.”
Our small company marched through the woods and gently rolling foothills in the late afternoon, warm in the autumn sun.
I had my gambeson and helm on, Lloi’s curved sword on one hip—it was still impossible to think of it as my sword—the quiver of bolts on the other, carrying the loaded crossbow, with my writing case on my back.
Mulldoos had cursed me for a fool, and told me to leave the case behind, but whether it was superstitious or not, I was reluctant to let it go. The case had saved my life once, and if it did come to pass that I died on this attempted raid on the capital, I wanted a quill and ink close by, if not in my hands. It only felt right.
We saw the stone aqueduct on its arched tiers ahead. While it wasn’t nearly as high as it would be near Sunwrack, with its quadruple set of arches putting it over one hundred and fifty feet tall outside the city—and higher still as it bridged the Trench—it was still an impressive construction out here snaking through the woodlands, so simple, and yet so sturdy.
I shaded my eyes and saw that the conduit at the top was covered in an arched stone roof.
I asked Vendurro, “I don’t imagine we’re walking along the top, are we? How are we going to get in?”
He replied, “They maintain these right regular. Every tenday or so, workers out here are inspecting, scrubbing any deposits clear along the channel the water runs through, fixing any leaks, other repairs or whatnot. So there are access panels every hundred yards or so. Somebody rode on ahead today, made sure we can climb right on in.”
“But the inspectors, workers—”
“Not due again for a few days, at least.”
I looked at the huge stone structure stretching down into the valley, towards the capital some five miles away. “But there are guards, correct? The Syldoon in Sunwrack know this is a potential weakness that could be exploited.”
“There are guards, sure enough, but not out this way. Irregular patrols, but nothing permanent. The cisterns in Sunwrack, though, are something else. But Cap and Commander Darzaak have that worked out, got a surprise for them. So we ought to be able to get in. Provided it don’t collapse, the wall guards don’t see or hear us as we cross the Trench or crawl above the city.” Vendurro was staring at the aqueduct, shaking his head. “But as to it being a real weakness? Nahh. Going to take all night to get thirty or so of us into the city, assuming the we-don’t-die part—enough to cause a little mischief on our own if we had a mind, which we do, but not like we can take the city from the inside. Syldoon are real good about putting resources towards what matters and not worrying overmuch about the things that don’t.”
I thought about that. “So our big trick won’t be getting into the cisterns and the city, but sneaking through the streets and into the Citadel.”
“Nope. Getting in is going to be plenty tricky too. Lots of ways for this to go south in a hurry.”
That was encouraging. “And assuming we do. Make it.”
“Well then, ayyup, that’s the easy part, which ain’t any kind of easy at all. The rest is as plaguing difficult as sticking a pinecone in a bull’s ass.”
Our company stood near the bottom of one of the stone supports, even the most seasoned soldier looking up at the aqueduct and assessing it.
Thumaar was in an enameled lamellar cuirass, with bazubands and greaves engraved with eagles, but that was as ostentatious as he got. While his carriage and demeanor made it clear he was or had been an emperor, it would have been easy to mistake him for an uppity captain or modest general.
But the effect didn’t last long.
Braylar and his men were wrapping their weapons and scabbards in felt, and the deposed emperor and the Eagles did the same. Then the Jackals starting handing out cloth covers for the shield faces and charcoal to cover up any exposed metal or helms. Most of the soldiers had opted for gambesons and hardened leather, and after some initial reluctance, Thumaar did as well, pulling off his cuirass and unbuckling his greaves and going with something less likely to catch moonlight. He gave his armor to a soldier that was going to head back to the camp.
Vendurro showed me the best way to disguise my gear and reduce the clatter.
When I looked up, Thumaar was surveying our group with a tight, hard smile. “We have miles to walk like trolls in a tunnel. In the dark. Anyone here afraid of the dark?”
That earned a few chuckles. He wrapped his hand around the long hilt of his sword and said, “Good. By this time tomorrow, the fate of the Empire will shift, and each and every soldier here will be instrumental. Let’s get moving.”
And then he started up, using the hand and footholds built into the stone so workers or inspectors could climb to the top, followed by the Eagles.
Braylar and Mulldoos exchanged a look. Mulldoos
said, “Got to love someone leading from the front, eh?”
Braylar replied, “That all depends on where he is leading, doesn’t it? I’ll go next, then send my sister and her skittish charge. You and the other lieutenants after, then the rest of the soldiers. Have the good sergeants bring up the rear.” He turned to a Jackal nearby who had been the only one riding. “Ensure Brudzik receives the orders—we need to be sure the way is clear from here to Sunwrack and there are no unexpected surprises, yes? Also, make certain that panels are cracked open on occasion along the way—we don’t want to suffocate in the dark, do we? Oh, and I will personally flog you if anything happens to Scorn or any of our other horses. Understood?”
The soldier managed not to blanch. “Aye, Cap.”
Then Braylar started up after the Eagles, followed by the lieutenants and myself.
I tried not to go too slowly but wanted to be sure I had a firm hold each time, also not wanting to fall and take someone below me down as well. While I had no fear of heights, and this section of the aqueduct was only twenty feet off the ground, I wasn’t what anyone would call a good climber.
As I pulled myself onto the roof and away from the edge, I saw Vendurro holding the wooden panel before dropping into the conduit. It was clear even he wasn’t going to be able to stand at full height inside, as it was designed for a man or men to move around but not comfortably. He looked up at Azmorgon, still on the stone roof of the aqueduct. “You might want to head back to the mine. Not thinking you’ll fit in here.”
Azmorgon said, “I thought the same thing of your mother, and made that fit fine. Well, after some struggle.”
Vendurro shook his head. “Plaguing whoreson.”
“She said the same of you.” Azmorgon’s yellow teeth were barely visible as a smile in his pelt of a beard, but the eyes were still hard and challenging.
Vendurro started to climb back out, but Rudgi grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.
Mulldoos gave the huge man a droopy scowl. “Always called you a horse-cunt and a half. Truth is, you’re twice the horsecunt of any man I ever met, and that’s plaguing saying something.”
Azmorgon dropped into the conduit. Without looking back up at Mulldoos he said, “And you’re a half-man with mushy mushrooms in his mouth.” Then he ducked low and disappeared into the dark conduit.
Mulldoos was about ready to descend and looked me up and down, then pointed at my quiver. “Best buckle the quiver lid shut, scribbler.” I was about to say thanks when he added, “Unless you want those bolts spilling everywhere, tripping up the man behind you, and earning my big boot in your skinny ass.”
I buckled the lid shut and watched as he crouched into the dark, though not having to bend as low as most.
After taking a final deep breath of clean air and feeling the last of the day’s sun on my cheeks, I used the handhold built into the stone and climbed down into the conduit. The channel of water was in the middle, only a couple of feet wide, surrounded by a narrow walkway on either side, and covered with the vaulted curved roof that forced nearly everyone to hunch over, especially Azmorgon, which made me happy in a petty and mean-spirited way.
The first thing I realized as I started walking forward in a hunch was just how gradual and almost imperceptible the gradient was on the conduit and aqueduct. Just enough to keep the water moving towards Sunwrack, but not to a degree that it would result in rapid erosion of the plaster channel or any extra stress on the structure itself.
As I moved away from the open panel on the vaulted ceiling, my eyes tried to adjust to the dark, but we hadn’t gone very far at all when that proved impossible. The roof was exceptionally well constructed, and there wasn’t the slightest crack where the sunset above could penetrate.
We were in absolute dark before long and would be for the next several miles. The covered conduit echoed our slow shuffling footsteps, armor shifting, and steady breathing, and made thirty-five of us sound like ten times that number, with the only other sound being the steady and gentle noise of water moving in the channel.
One of the Syldoon had tried walking in the water at first, but jumped back to the stone walkway again when it proved too cold to tolerate for long, earning several curses from the officers ahead.
The company trudged along, obeying the command to maintain silence unless Braylar or Thumaar were issuing orders down the line.
The blackness wasn’t quite as absolute as it had been in the pool in the bowels of Vrulinka’s keep, but not far off either. We were bent over, feeling our way along the wall as we made halting progress, trying not to think about how we were like blind rats scuttling through a sewer pipe. Time seemed stretched out. The first hour felt like half the night. Breathing heavily from having my diaphragm compressed and only the stale and foul air to suck in and out, heavy with the reek of sweat and bodies and whatever rank odors came out of them, it was hard to ward off ferocious anxieties.
Silently cursing myself for arguing so vehemently about being included, I tried to keep my mind off the fact that it really did feel as if we might suffocate in there. I wondered about the previous night, my wild encounter with Rudgi. Clearly it didn’t ripple beyond what had happened—we were not betrothed or amorous, not going to hold hands and whisper sweet sentiments to each other. But if you throw even a small pebble in a lake, there are some ripples. Assuming we lived through this, would we ever repeat that, twist our bodies together again? Or had it simply been a singular occurrence?
I had no significant experience with women, but even if I had been a frequent paramour, I doubt I would have met any like Rudgi, or had the faintest idea what to make of her. It’s possible she hadn’t thought twice about me since pulling her trousers back on last night, but I couldn’t help hoping we had another chance.
I was dwelling on that when I finally smelled something pleasant and felt the faintest of breezes on my face. Not long after, I saw stars winking in a square of sky and realized we were passing an open panel.
Thumaar sent word back that everyone could straighten up for a minute as they came to it, take a quick drink of sweet air and whatever we had on our belts, and then it was back to it—we still had many miles to go.
I saw Mulldoos stand up ahead of me, rolling his shoulders back, stretching, grunting. He unstoppered a costrel, took a few swallows, and then looked over at me, hunched and waiting. “Let me guess. Didn’t bring a flask, did you?”
When I shook my head he did as well. “Hopeless. Plaguing hopeless.” Then he handed me his costrel and with a groan, bent down again and trudged forward.
The water was brackish in truth, but it might as well have been from a magic fountain, it tasted so pleasant. And the air . . . it was wonderful. Crisp and unpolluted. But the view was almost dizzying after being stuck in the aqueduct for so long, the immensity of the sky, the number of stars, the haunting cry of a bird in a tree nearby. Below us, I realized with a start. There was another tier of arches now, possibly two. While the gradient had only changed an incremental amount, the land must have dropped off quite a bit.
Lowering myself back into that conduit was twice as difficult as entering it the first time.
But there was no getting around it. Miles to go . . .
And so I bent over and caught up with Mulldoos, handing him his costrel again before being plunged into absolute darkness.
The rest of the night passed the same way, battling my mind and the sensation that we might end up stuffed in this conduit for the rest of our lives, enjoying the brief respite of another hatch, and then pressing on. While the gradient never changed, the contours of the aqueduct itself did, as it flowed over the roll of the land, carrying water down from the foothills of the Moonvow mountains to Sunwrack, filling cisterns, bathhouses, and fountains, and flushing sewage into the Trench.
The third hatch proved to be our last. As I poked my head up, the lights of Sunwrack were visible in Towers here and there, along the wall, lanterns or candles or torches. The city was asleep for the mos
t part, but the guards were not, and the Syldoon were not, not with an enemy army marching towards their doorstep, and so while the city wasn’t alive with lights, there were more than at any time I had seen in my brief stay.
Mulldoos pulled my arm. “Enough gawking, scribbler. It will all be up close and personal before you can spit. Get your last gulp of air and drop back in the hole.”
I glanced down. Though it was hours from dawn, the sky was cloudless, and with the moonlight and starlight I could make out the silhouette of the landscape below. Far, far below. We had to be a hundred feet up now, possibly more. The aqueduct had to be high enough to cross over the colossal walls protecting Sunwrack, but that meant a very long drop and a squishy death at the bottom.
The air suddenly tasted less sweet, and I dropped back into the conduit.
It felt like hours more passed, but there weren’t that many dark hours in a day. The air suddenly changed, and a breeze seemed to be blowing down the conduit. I’d been told there were no more panels open and wasn’t sure what was happening before remembering how the aqueduct appeared in Sunwrack. The roof ended a hundred yards outside the trench. Presumably to make sure there wasn’t an army hunchwalking its way into the capital.
I started to make out the shapes of the Syldoon ahead of me, just hints at first, but then their outlines, and though any steel or iron had been blacked as much as possible, there was still a faint dull glint of metal ahead as I neared the opening.
Mulldoos dropped down to a knee and looked back at me and the soldiers behind. “We crawl the rest of the way. Slow. Real slow. No noise. You hear me? You got to sneeze, you stick your head up your ass first. No noise, stay below the edge, and crawl like a snake. Don’t even think of looking over either. Nothing gives away our position. Not a plaguing thing. And the man that does will be dead by my hand before any Imperials stick a shaft in his sorry ass.”
Chains of the Heretic Page 42