Thumaar was scowling but gave a curt nod.
As the sun flashed across the rooftop and began to light the edges of the city, the captain led us into the cistern tower. Vendurro poked his head inside the trap door, which seemed a good way to get it cut off, but safer than someone going down feet first, I supposed. He announced it was clear, then Braylar was the first down the ladder, with his lieutenants after, followed by the rest of the Jackals. There must have been someone Vendurro hadn’t seen, as I heard a shout from somewhere inside, cut short by several twangs from crossbows, and then it was my turn to descend, with Soffjian and Nustenzia after me, and finally Thumaar and his Eagles. That must have galled him, to allow a mere captain and his troops to precede him, but it was the safest course.
It felt good to put my hands and feet on a solid ladder with only a short drop below, but the interior of the building was nothing like what I was expecting. For one, it wasn’t poorly lit—the sunrise hadn’t provided adequate natural lighting through the arched windows yet, but there were lanterns hanging from hooks all along the wall, lighting up the expansive basin the aqueduct fed into first. Still, there were broad patches of deep shadows, and that’s where I saw the body of the next Leopard thirty feet away, filled with bolts.
The roof had corbelled ceilings, and there were countless pillars throughout this floor supporting it. The first huge reservoir on this upper floor was a settling basin, designed to sift any debris out of the water before it was transported to other basins for distribution to other portions of the city, but far larger than any I’d ever heard about.
Most of the Jackals had crossbows out, trained on the floor as they fanned out to make sure there were no more Leopards about, and the Eagles had their sidearms in hand—swords, maces, axes—as they spread out as well. If there were guards patrolling, they wouldn’t be doing so for very long. I had my crossbow ready, hoping I’d have no cause to use it.
Soffjian had a tight grip on Nustenzia’s upper arm, her ranseur in the other hand, angle up.
And so it went, floor by floor. There were two other guards, but they were cut down before raising an alarm or putting up a fight. I was stunned by the size and complexity of the tower. I knew this place provided untold gallons of water for bathhouses, fountains, flushing the filth from garderobes and drains out into the bottom of the Trench, as well as filling humongous cisterns and reservoirs. I assumed at least some of those were designed for drinking.
I was walking alongside Soffjian and Nustenzia, mostly to avoid getting in the way of the Syldoon as they cleared each floor. I turned to Soffjian. “Clearly infiltrating this tower wasn’t easy, and it would be impossible to get a sizable enough force in this way to cause any serious mischief. So I can see why the risk outweighed the rewards and no one tried it. Until today, that is. But why wouldn’t an enemy simply poison the spring in the mountains, or the water in the aqueduct on its way to Sunwrack?”
The Memoridon’s head swiveling from one patch of shadow to the next, she answered, “First, so much water comes through daily that it would be difficult if not impossible to poison it to the extent of making anyone seriously sick, let alone dead. So there’s that. But second, most of this isn’t for drinking, and they have water tasters sampling those casks or cisterns daily.”
“Leopards volunteer for this?”
“Dogs do.”
“There is a Dog Tower?”
“No, the four-legged variety. Not everything relates to the Syldoon, you know.” She flashed me a wicked smile. “And I suspect, being dogs, they are not aware they are volunteering at all. They are simply thirsty and drinking, as animals and some idiot men are wont to do. So, there you have it. Poisoning isn’t especially practical or—”
Someone darted from behind a pillar we passed and ran for the ladder leading down to the next floor.
Soffjian spun, cocked her arm back, and while I thought she would splay her fingers and take the Leopard out with memory magic, she instead threw her ranseur like a spear.
The polearm struck the soldier in the lower back, but the tines didn’t penetrate the scales, or at least not deeply enough to do more than slow him down, as it fell to the floor behind him. The Leopard stumbled, reached back by reflex, and then kept on running, speeding up if anything.
“Leopard!” Soffjian shouted. “The ladder!”
The running soldier slid on the stones as he tried to stop near the ladder, regained his balance, and reached down to grab the iron loop on the trap door.
Azmorgon stepped out from behind another pillar, the oddly edged polearm in both hands above his head, and he brought it down like an executioner in a town square. Only instead of lopping off the man’s head, the long blade struck him in the shoulder and back, rending armor, breaking the collarbone, embedding somewhere below it, ending the man’s life in one stroke.
I felt my stomach twist as Azmorgon stepped on the dead man’s back and wrenched his weapon free, then spit on the corpse before stepping away.
When the rest of the floor was clear and we were gathered by the blood-splattered trap door, Thumaar addressed the troops. “The Captain was clear, I thought. We kill all Leopards. That seemed clear enough to me. So if we can’t sweep the floor and manage that simple task without raising the alarm, it won’t matter what gods we have siding with us. They cannot abide men who do not help themselves. The next man or woman who allows a Leopard to even get close to another door will be executed on the spot. Is that understood?”
Everyone nodded or said “Aye,” and from that point on, the Eagles and Jackals were more thorough and painstaking in their searches, though we didn’t encounter any more Imperial soldiers patrolling anywhere.
We gathered before the trap and ladder leading to the ground floor, and it was difficult to tell if I was more exhausted or hungry, as both led to my body shaking and the return of an awful headache.
Braylar looked at the gathered Syldoon and said, “We do not know how many men might be down there. Fewer than us is a sound guess, but still a guess. We assemble by the ladder and sweep towards the main entrance, on the eastern wall. Once we have secured that, we can eliminate any other Leopards lurking amid the pipes and shadows, though I suspect most of them will be by the door, waiting for their relief so they can go home and sleep. It should be locked tight, so they can’t simply run out into the street. But we also don’t have a large margin for error. Once they see us, especially if they are overwhelmed, they will attempt to flee.” He looked at his sister. “How many can you take out without compromising your ability to undo Cynead’s work on the frames?”
Soffjian put her hand on Nustenzia’s shoulder. “With her aid? Likely all of them, provided you are correct about numbers. I won’t have to expend nearly as much with her assistance. But if you are wrong about the numbers . . .”
Braylar twitch-smiled. “When have you ever known me to be wrong estimating numbers?”
She looked at the flail. “Before Bloodsounder came into your possession, quite frequently.”
Thumaar said, “Enough squabbling. We do not have much time. Lead your men, Captain. Or stand aside.”
Vendurro checked the ground floor as before, and nodded before stepping back to let Braylar past. The captain had Bloodsounder in hand as he climbed down, and everyone followed as before.
The ground floor was the first not to have open cisterns or pipes or channels leading out through all the walls. Instead it had rows of huge casks of water at least twelve feet high that must have been some kind of reserve, fed by pipes coming down from the ceiling. The whole tower was stunning in conception and execution, a marvelous feat of engineering unseen anywhere else in the world, at least on that scale. But I didn’t have much time to appreciate that.
When our company was assembled, Braylar gave hand signals that meant nothing to me but everything to the Syldoon, and we started forward as stealthily as we could, some men in a small alley between casks, others hugging the eastern wall of the building.
But the casks
ended as the room did, and we had to skirt the northern wall until we came to a closed door. Braylar cursed, clearly not expecting that. He looked at Mulldoos. “The entrance must be close, yes? Do you know the layout in that section?”
The lieutenant nodded. “Aye to the door, no plaguing clue about the layout. Never had cause to be in here.”
Thumaar stepped forward. “It’s been years, but unless they have rebuilt, the room beyond is open in layout. Rows of bunks and wardrobes, chests, a weapons rack. A desk or two and some tables and benches. A small barracks for the guards near the entrance.” He pointed his sword at the door, frowning. “This is likely locked. Or should be if they aren’t lax bastards disregarding protocol. That poses a problem. Tired or not, the men on the other side will probably notice us chopping a door down.”
Azmorgon looked at the deposed emperor, smile mostly hidden in the pelt beard. “Who said anything about chopping?”
Thumaar looked up at the man, appraising. “The door is several inches thick, iron-bound, and secure.”
Azmorgon nodded once, slowly. “Ain’t never seen a door I couldn’t knock off its hinges, unless you’re talking about one at the big plaguing gates to Sunwrack. That might be a fix.” He looked at Braylar. “But this? Nothing and less. I got this, Cap.”
Braylar nodded as well and looked at Thumaar. “So, once Lieutenant Ram dislodges the door, we storm through, loosing crossbows at the closest Leopards. Soffjian, you and Lady Focus will need to come through quickly, prepared to take out the guards. This is when we need prisoners. At least six.” He looked at the rest of the Syldoon. “Since clarity seems to be an issue, must I needs repeat myself here? Clean off any phrases for you? Prisoners. Six. More is better. But at least six. Understood?”
Thumaar said, “Assuming your big whoreson there is as good as his word, I will lead the first wave through.”
Braylar stared, unblinking, before saying, “My lord, this entire operation will be for naught if you catch a bolt in the face or get cut down in this drippy tower. Might I suggest—”
“If I could piss on your suggestion, I would. Are you truly questioning the man who would be your emperor?”
Braylar still looked poised to argue the point or attempt a different tack, but relented. “My lord, the charge is yours and yours alone.”
Thumaar and a handful of Eagles stood poised on one side of the door, and Braylar, Vendurro, Soffjian, and Nustenzia stood on the other. The rest of us cleared a path for Azmorgon, weapons ready.
He handed his polearm to Rudgi and said, “Hold this. Unless it’s too big for you.”
Then Azmorgon crouched down and put the fingers of both hands on the stone floor, narrow-set eyes on the door, breathing slowly, huge body rising and falling a few times before he launched himself forward.
Azmorgon ran ten steps and, just before reaching the door, threw himself forward, shoulder first.
With a splintering crash and the tortured scream of metal, the door flew into the room beyond and he fell on top of it, and then the Syldoon poured in after him.
I heard several crossbows release quarrels and a distant scream or two, and then I was in a wave coming through the door as well, crossbow leveled, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me.
We did outnumber the Leopards, but it was hard to tell by how much. Several Imperials were down already, but the rest were drawing weapons, or reaching for spears from the rack, some fitting arrows to the strings of their recurved bows. Some of the smarter ones who recognized the threat of crossbows jumped behind a large wooden desk. One ran for the massive double-arched doors in the nave of the building, fumbling with keys.
The other Syldoon had tossed their crossbows aside and drawn their sidearms, so I pivoted, taking aim, hand hovering along the long steel trigger. An arrow flew past me, though it was hard to tell if it was aimed at me or not. The Leopard by the door was about forty feet away, and I thought about trying to close the distance, but he was already drawing the oak beam out from the brackets on the door, so I took a deep breath and squeezed.
The bolt covered the distance in a blink, striking the Leopard in the back of the shoulder. He dropped the beam, staggered into the door, but then righted himself and started reaching for the beam again.
I cursed and reached for another bolt, knowing I couldn’t possibly span it in time to stop him, ducking belatedly as an arrow flew over my head.
Then Soffjian pushed past me, one hand in a tight grip around Nustenzia’s upper arm, the other in front of her, fingers splayed.
Two more arrows flew, one striking a nearby Eagle, another nearly hitting Nustenzia, who screamed as if it were buried in her chest. Soffjian only tightened her grip, and a moment later the Leopards in front of us were dropping their weapons, holding their heads, falling to their knees or onto their faces, screaming and writhing and twisting on the floor as if they were being flayed alive.
Thumaar marched forward, sword up, ready to silence them himself when they all dropped like puppets whose strings had been severed. The Leopards were all down, and quiet, even the ones who were injured and bleeding around the bolts in their flesh.
We’d taken the entrance. And if there were other Leopards hidden on the ground floor somewhere, they knew better than to try to help their comrades now.
Some Eagles and Jackals guarded the doors to the rest of the first floor on opposite sides of the chamber. A few tried to fit the broken door back in its hinges, but it was too late—the best they could do was prop it in place so on casual glance it might look like a secure door.
The rest of us put the room back together and stripped the fallen Leopards of their armor and surcoats. I was helping Vendurro turn the table back over, reclaiming the dice and leather cup, the copper decanter and wooden mugs, wiping beer off the table and then repositioning everything to look like a dicing game hadn’t been interrupted at all.
I looked up as Azmorgon was dragging two limp Leopards in their small clothes by the arms towards an adjacent storage room, the same way a toddler might two stuffed toys. He hauled the bodies past the canvas and wood screen out of sight as other Jackals did the same with the other bodies. None of the unconscious men were bound.
Braylar grabbed me by the shoulder as I took a step towards the storage area.
I asked, “They’re going to kill those men, the ones Soffjian subdued, aren’t they?”
The captain was giving me a hard look, not quite wroth, but the one a teachers favors a very dense student. Very quietly he said, “You do seem to be having a very tough time with this lesson. Need I remind you—and it appears I must—the Leopards are our enemies, and slaughtered a large chunk of my company not so very long ago. And you would argue for what, exactly, clemency? Is that what the long look implies, Arki? Are you going to appeal to Mulldoos’s tender nature and beg for them to be simply trussed up back there?”
I shook my head. “It just seems . . .” I struggled for the words. “They are unarmed . . . helpless.”
The captain had moved to wroth. “While the Jackals bore arms, they were no less helpless on the bridge when they were cut down or dropped to their deaths. Measure for measure. And that’s an end to it.”
“You spared the blinded Hornmen,” I said, knowing I was recklessly rowing into monster-infested waters.
Braylar said, “So I did. Because they were useful, if you recall. Those limp Leopards being moved out of sight? They have no utility for us whatsoever. And if we leave them bound, they will only be unbound sometime later to fight us another day. Or perhaps forgotten altogether while a coup is happening in the city around them. Perhaps they would starve to death. Is that your idea of mercy, archivist?”
I shook my head, feeling more tired, hungry, and empty than before.
Braylar released my arm and turned to Soffjian as another comatose Leopard was dragged past. “How long will the rest be out?”
Soffjian replied, “It is difficult to say. Had I taken them out alone, an hour, two perhap
s.” She glanced at the Focus. “But I’m afraid we might have overdone it a bit. It might be half a day. Longer. Let me guess—you need one of them awake now?”
The corners of Braylar’s lips rose ever so slightly. “Why yes. How very astute of you.”
“You might have mentioned that before I shook their brain boxes so hard, Bray.”
“Well,” he said, “our priority was taking the opposition out cleanly. I never imagined you would render them senseless for a day or two.”
She nearly smiled as well. “Failure of imagination can be a dangerous thing. Who would you like me to try to rouse?” She looked at the Leopards pulled to the edge of the room and the few still in armor in the center.
Thumaar was walking towards the pair, wearing a relatively clean (or at least blood-free) tunic and Leopard cuirass, and was close enough to have overheard the last part. He pointed to a Leopard face down on the ground near the table. “That man. He has a sergeant’s badge. Be quick about it. The relief could be here anytime.”
Braylar glanced at me and then added, pointing, “And those two as well. If we are to pull this ruse off, they will need to see at least two or three of their comrades.”
I wondered if they would be executed after they had served their purpose as well and tried not to think about it.
Nustenzia was staring straight ahead, almost as pale as Mulldoos, lips a tight thin line, and though it didn’t appear she had been paying attention, she flinched as Soffjian approached and looked visibly relieved when the Memoridon moved past her to the sergeant facedown on the floor. Soffjian looked over her shoulder and beckoned the captain and former emperor forward, and Braylar called over Mulldoos and Azmorgon as well.
The small group was gathered around the Leopard sergeant while the rest of the company continued moving dead or unconscious bodies. Soffjian knelt down next to the man, closed her eyes, laid her hands on his head. Her lips moved slightly, as if she were about to talk in her sleep, and the lightning-bolt vein in her forehead throbbed.
Chains of the Heretic Page 44