by Stephen Hunt
Baron Machus appeared red-faced from the climb up the winding stone staircase, his retinue of cloaked and armoured legionaries disarmed of their pistols and short-swords. That the baron was willing to enter the enemy’s den cloaked only in the flag of truce spoke either of courage or a foolhardy disregard for his own safety. Or perhaps it’s arrogance? The Vandians never seemed to lack for that.
‘Legend has it that anyone visiting the Cold Court with murder in their heart is picked up by the spirits and dashed on the rocks during the climb up here,’ Sariel whispered to Jacob.
‘I reckon they’ve made an exception for this Vandian, then,’ said Jacob. ‘Because if I’m any judge of character, there’s nothing much but murder in his heart.’
The baron and his retinue advanced before the throne and halted. One of the imperial officers stepped forward and raised his voice to announce the presence of his master. ‘Baron Machus, Legate Commander of the Celestial Caste and emissary of His Most Noble Highness Prince Gyal, anointed son of the most holy Emperor Jaelis.’
Jacob noted that none of the Rodalian officials returned the courtesy of introducing the Speaker of the Winds. The silence of contempt.
‘What the hell kind of place is this?’ demanded the baron, discarding any pretence of diplomacy. His brutish fist swept across the flat wind-swept bluff they stood on. ‘I thought you people burrowed into the stone, rodents huddling together for warmth. Is it too crowded in the passages below? Or are you just trying to keep your pathetically small number of soldiers out of my sight?’
‘This is the formal seat of the Speaker of the Winds,’ said Nima Tash, slapping her throne carved from the bare black rock. ‘And this our court. It reminds us what Rodal is and what its people must be to survive on top of the Walls of the World. If you wish comfort, return to Arcadia. Or better yet, go back to your distant homeland.’
‘Keep your closed sewer of a city hidden from me, then,’ laughed Baron Machus. ‘I have not arrived to be amused by what passes for the sights here.’
‘Why have you come to Rodal, Vandian?’ demanded Nima.
‘To offer you a simple choice,’ said Baron Machus. ‘We require you to surrender all rebel Weylanders within your nation’s borders as well as the Vandian citizen the criminal dogs took as prisoner . . . light of the Imperium and daughter of Princess Helrena, the most glorious Lady Cassandra Skar. If you fail to meet these terms by nightfall tomorrow, your nation will burn.’
‘Rodal is stone,’ said Nima. ‘It does not burn.’
‘The people clinging to this windy, misbegotten country of yours will light up just fine,’ said the baron.
Nima’s eyes narrowed. ‘We shall see.’
‘Yes,’ grunted the baron, ‘I can see that you’re the daughter of the Rodalian with the big mouth we hanged.’
‘You think to provoke me into rash violence with your insults? You do not face the daughter of a murdered politician here. You stand before the newly elected Speaker of the Winds.’
‘Well-named,’ leered the baron. ‘Given that wind is all I’ve enjoyed since arriving in this shit-hole. Most of it’s been a freezing gale, but up here it’s all the hot kind.’
‘Then you shall have something else.’ Nima clapped her hands and a retainer came forward to present the baron with a wooden walnut case.
‘What is this?’ said the baron, examining the box. He opened the lid to reveal two ivory-handled daggers laid out on a bed of red silk.
‘It is traditional to present a visiting herald from a foe with gifts,’ said Nima. ‘These knives belonged to my father. One is for you as the empire’s emissary; one is for the master who holds the hound’s leash. Prince Gyal of Vandia, I believe.’
Machus snorted in amusement. The unattractive noise sounded like a swine rooting about a trough. ‘You think to buy us off with a brace of blades? Are you a fool?’
‘No, Vandian. They are my answer to you. I do not require a day to consider your Imperium’s terms. Those you spoke of are under the protection of salt and roof within Hadra-Hareer. The same protection you broke when you hung the previous Speaker of the Winds. The tradition of hospitality is the only reason you will leave Hadra-Hareer alive today, rather than having your severed head returned inside a sack. The knives are also our tradition, a different one. The Blood Steel. I present you with my father’s blades and my curse. I will recover them from you and your master’s corpse in due course.’
‘Then you are a fool after all,’ said Baron Machus, closing the case shut with an angry snap. ‘You think the Imperium lacks for provinces with high peaks? We’ve fought plenty of mountain tribes before. Your little cracks and crevices aren’t nearly deep enough to hide your people from our legions. I’ll bring your two knives back and stick them up your arse, though. I’ll do that for you.’
‘You are welcome to try. I’ll be waiting,’ said Nima.
‘I—,’ the baron stopped. He had noticed Sariel among the Rodalians standing behind the throne. With the sorcerer’s golden skin and long leather coat etched with hundreds of illustrations, Jacob was surprised it had taken so long. ‘That one!’ said the baron, pointing to the elderly bard. ‘He is a notorious outlaw wanted within the Imperium.’
‘This man too is under the protection of salt and roof here,’ said Nima.
‘Under which name do you impugn me as a criminal?’ demanded Sariel, stepping forward.
‘Sariel Skel-bane,’ said the baron. ‘Although I’ve seen a good few many more aliases on the posters bearing your likeness.’
‘Killing skels isn’t a crime, it’s a duty. And I have to say I feel much the same about Vandians. But you must be a wealthy man, my celestial caste friend. So many slaves to die and work for you. Why should a rich baron of the Imperium bother about the paltry reward on Sariel Skel-bane’s head?’
‘Killing outlaws is my duty,’ growled the baron. ‘And my pleasure.’
Sariel tapped his staff against the rock. ‘I suggest you find simpler ones. You’ll live longer to enjoy them.’
‘Old man, old man. You don’t look so much. I wonder what all the fuss is about. I suppose even our hoodsmen can get it wrong.’
‘Grit in the Imperium’s gullet,’ smiled Sariel. ‘But who’s to digest me?’
The baron’s hand dipped down towards the belt by his side, but his fingers were reminded by their empty touch that he and his retinue had been disarmed.
Nima rose up from her stone seat. ‘You will not have the Weylanders or any of our nation’s guests. Visit again, Vandian, befoul our air, and you and your allies will discover only blood here.’
‘And this is really the message you want me to relay to His Highness Prince Gyal . . . a son of the all-mighty emperor? Do you have any idea of what you are facing across the border in Weyland?’
‘Just brutes with expensive, elaborate machines. Rodal has known many enemies over the ages. You are just one more. It’s never the steel that counts, only the soldiers who come bearing it.’
‘You’re savages in need of an education.’ The baron spat on the rock in front of the throne and stalked away with his retinue. ‘That must have felt good,’ said Jacob.
‘I feel only sadness,’ said Nima. ‘I have not just given them my Blood Steel. I have given them the nation’s.’
‘You give to them only what they would have arrived to take anyway,’ said Sariel.
‘I sleep no easier for knowing the truth of that,’ said Nima, grimly. The speakers and soldiers and priests parted for the Speaker of the Winds as she departed the court. Unlike the Vandians, she did not follow down the exposed steps leading to the canyon floor below. Nima headed for a door hidden in the cracks of the heights behind them, steel painted as black as rock and as thick as the vault of a bank. An interior stairwell down to the hidden depths of Hadra-Hareer.
‘Quicksilver has his war after all,’ said Sariel ‘How do you feel about it, Your Grace?’
‘Cold,’ said Jacob, honestly.
‘I h
ope you are as effective a general as you believe yourself to be.’
‘You should know. You joined with my mind inside the sky mines.’
Sariel grunted. ‘The man who can beat the Imperium and destroy King Marcus is the man who would have stayed in the Burn. United the shattered lands and ruled them. Not won all those victories and murdered all those kings, only to toss them aside and flee and hide himself behind a pastor’s cant and scripture.’
‘I am who I am.’
‘But will it be enough?’
‘Reckon it better be. I’m finished with hiding and running. I’ve got just one last king to strangle before I’ll call matters done.’
‘King Marcus and Emperor Jaelis, they are only a rash on the skin. The true sickness runs far deeper,’ said Sariel. ‘You saw the stealer I fought in the shadow of the stratovolcano, you sensed its kin beating on the doors of this world when we travelled using the gate of stones. There is a reason that my face is on wanted posters in every Vandian garrison, and it has little to do with a little mischievous tweaking of the emperor’s nose decades ago. The battle you would wage is only a tiny shadow of the real war. There are schemes and plots across Pellas that are almost beyond your comprehension.’
‘No point in a simple man worrying about them, then,’ said Jacob. ‘One enemy at a time, one bullet at a time. That’s the only philosophy I’ve ever needed.’ And look where it’s got you, Mary’s voice whispered.
‘Your son will be of assistance to me, however,’ added Sariel.
Jacob nodded. ‘Take Carter. Far away from Rodal.’
‘He’ll hear of what you do here,’ said Sariel. ‘Even if he doesn’t have to see it.’
‘Might be all of Pellas will hear,’ said Jacob. But only if I arrange the slaughter right. If I fail, I’ll just be a forgotten footnote in a long, sad history.
FOUR
THE SORCERER’S JOURNEY
Carter’s new quarters weren’t that different from his cell and incarceration. He wasn’t sure if that was because the Rodalians treated their prisoners in a civilized manner, or they housed the capital’s citizens like prisoners. Two rooms instead of one now, the cold hard carved rock of the wall softened by a few rugs and tapestries. Everything lit during the day by a strange soft light. The illumination caught by mirror arrays inside chimney stacks that protruded from the surface of the wind-blown canyons and mountain slopes. And, of course, his old accommodation had lacked one important thing – the most important thing of all. Willow. She had come to Carter and he had known she wanted to be reassured, even as she had grabbed him and kissed him and they had fallen to the bed and made love in this strange place. After all, she had said, she couldn’t get any more pregnant than she already was. But Carter didn’t care about that, beyond the hurt Willow had already taken getting to this point. A forced marriage he couldn’t protect her from. Carter still felt guilty about that. Sometimes it seemed that guilt was all he had to offer Willow Landor. I’m not good for much else, these days. But at least we’re free. I’m free. Even if that was free to face Willow’s unhappiness about how little time he would spend in Hadra-Hareer. Freedom always comes with a price attached, it seems. Freedom as a slave of the empire had been paid in blood. Freedom in Rodal came with Willow’s tears. Carter truly hated to be the cause of any more suffering for her. They rested together in bed, warm under the woollen blankets and looking at the ceiling. There weren’t many answers there, Carter realized.
‘I can come with you and Sariel,’ said Willow at last, but the madness of the notion must have occurred to her even as she spoke it.
‘You’re in no condition to travel,’ protested Carter.
‘Plenty of travellers give birth in their caravans.’
‘They’re born to it. Every day of their life they travel surrounded and protected by their clan,’ said Carter. ‘Won’t be much trading where I’m going with Sariel by the sounds of it. And we’ll be travelling light and fast.’
‘Sariel can convert the stone circles into portals that touch the farcalled side of Pellas,’ said Willow. ‘Surely he can protect one woman, even if that woman is carrying a child in her belly?’
‘The steppes are dangerous,’ said Carter. He slapped the chamber’s heavy stone walls. ‘Without this in the hordes’ way . . .’
‘Is that meant to reassure me? The steppes are where you’re heading. When I was trapped in Arcadia I thought I’d lost you forever. Now, just as soon as you’re free of your jail cell, you’re straight back putting your neck on the block again.’
‘It’s not as though I want to leave you here,’ said Carter. ‘HadraHareer is safer than Weyland.’
‘The Vandians will travel to Rodal. Hunting for rebels and everyone who took part in the slave revolt.’
‘They might,’ said Carter. ‘But there are some things I trust in.’
‘Rodal’s caverns and thick rock walls?’
‘My father,’ said Carter.
‘He scares me now, Carter,’ said Willow. ‘He’s nothing like the pastor I grew up with.’
‘I know. That’s why I trust my father to keep you safe. He travelled across the world to rescue us. He survived that journey against all the odds.’
‘Your father doesn’t want justice for the nation,’ said Willow. ‘He’s just fixing to kill anyone who had anything to do with your mother’s murder.’
‘I can hardly fault him for that.’ I’ll see them dead myself for killing her.
Willow grabbed Carter by the arms. ‘You live for life, not revenge. I don’t care what the risks are out on the plains. All I’m asking is to brave them alongside you.’
‘I don’t think it’s an accident the way the rebellion played out,’ said Carter. ‘It’s as though my father planned for Midsburg to fall, just so the army would end up under his command. I think he’s been saving Rodal like a stone in his back pocket to sling against Vandia.’
‘You know how many people we lost in Midsburg? Half the army and city dead and those who survived in chains. And you think the pastor planned that?’
‘I know it sounds crazy, but yes. I think he planned that.’
‘Then I have even more reason to leave with you,’ said Willow. ‘I can’t stay here and play the part of your father’s conscience. And that’s what he wants from me.’
‘You’ve got someone else to think about,’ said Carter, placing a hand gently against her belly.
‘How can you say that? This baby won’t be yours. It’ll be that evil bastard Wallingbeck’s. Let me travel alongside you and Sariel, maybe the journey will—’
Carter reached out to reassure Willow. ‘That’s no way to think. When your baby comes into the world, they won’t be an it, only a little he or she. And they’re not going to care then that Benner Landor and his wife drugged you and kidnapped you and forced an unwanted marriage on you. The baby won’t care about King Marcus or Vandia and whatever Sariel has got planned. Vandia, the civil war, it’ll mean nothing. The child will just love you and you’ll need to love them.’
‘I need you to live,’ pleaded Willow. ‘How can I go on without you? Don’t make me face this without you.’
‘I’m sure as hell not planning to die for Sariel,’ said Carter. ‘I’m coming back. For you and the baby both. He’ll have a father and it won’t be some southern nobleman paid to give Benner Landor’s daughter a courtier’s title.’
‘My child needs that father now. I had a terrible premonition last night,’ said Willow. ‘Nothing good is going to come from you following that rascal of a sorcerer away from Rodal.’
And I’ve been touched by little but bad dreams of late. But Carter didn’t want to load any extra worries on Willow’s shoulders. ‘I cut a deal with the old dog in Midsburg,’ said Carter. ‘I told Sariel that when you and my father were rescued from Arcadia’s hospitality and safely out of the usurper’s clutches, I’d help him in return. I owe the old coot.’
‘Sariel rescued your father from King Marcus’ dungeon
s, but he never saved me. I did that all by myself. Isn’t there war enough in Weyland? You don’t have to travel on a wild goose chase with Sariel to find blood.’
‘Sariel needs me to help track down his friends: to heal them like I did him in the sky mines.’
Willow shuddered as though someone had walked over the soil of her grave. ‘You unlocked his soul and released a storm into the world.’
‘Something happened to me when I fell inside the stratovolcano during my botched escape attempt,’ said Carter. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but my mind filled with the entire world’s dreams. When Sariel appeared at my deathbed and healed me; those dreams, my memories, they flooded out from my mind and went into his.’ Where they belonged. And Sariel had been changed by those echoes of the past. From a half-mad bard recounting insane tales and making fanciful boasts, into something far darker. Willow hadn’t known Sariel before the awakening to realize the difference. If Willow had, Carter suspected, she would never let me leave Hadra-Hareer with the peculiar wizard.
‘We could become travellers,’ said Willow. ‘We have more than enough money to buy a sturdy wagon and a train of healthy horses. We can put Weyland behind us . . . leave the entire League. We could travel south into the Great Gaskald forests. Follow the forests into Tresterer and join one of the free caravans heading east. My false husband and my wretched father would never find us.’
Carter cringed at the thought of what she’d endured down south. ‘Don’t call Wallingbeck your husband. Owen annulled the marriage.’
‘And my father’s barely my father anymore. Only Leyla Holten’s husband and cat’s paw. But the Landors and their rich friends have ended up in control of Weyland all the same. There’s no future for us in the Lanca.’