Let Sleeping Dragons Lie

by Garth Nix

  Eleanor worried at the mystery of Hundred’s missing weapon while she and Odo reviewed the moves they had learned on the road to Kyles Frost. Did she have a spell she could call on in direst need? Or some kind of supernatural creature she was able to summon just once in her life? That would be a fine trick.

  It was Odo who guessed the truth. He had been considering possibilities much nearer to his experience, such as Hundred’s intelligence and knowledge of combat, her cunning, and her wit.

  ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ he asked her while recovering his breath from a particularly close bout with Eleanor. ‘You’re the hundredth weapon.’

  Hundred bowed. ‘At my lord’s service.’

  ‘Who gave you that name?’ Eleanor asked, kicking herself for not guessing before Odo.

  ‘A master of fighting with only one’s body. She trained me in the desert for three years, without weapons of any kind, except for the ones that I possess. She taught me that what makes the knight is not the sword … no offence,’ she added for Biter and Runnel’s benefit. ‘But the spirit. If the spirit is strong, no enemy can defeat us.’

  ‘Even those armed with bows and arrows?’ asked Egda, poking his head out to play the sceptic with wicked pleasure. ‘Or dragons?’

  ‘My liege knows full well the difference between death and defeat,’ she said, unfazed. ‘That is why we are on this mission, is it not?’

  Eleanor and Odo practised all morning, getting used to their new dragon-scale shields as well as the knives. They broke off only when other vessels neared, or there were travellers on the riverbank who might catch a glimpse of them. Though Knucius had taken steps to make it look like they had died in the fall down the Ghyll, it wouldn’t pay to advertise the presence of any knights sparring on their way to Winterset. So a family of traders they became again, eating lunch in the afternoon sun and taking turns watching from the bow of the barge for any debris or newly formed sandbanks. Save Egda, who stayed in the cabin, thinking deep thoughts.

  The river became steadily wider as the day wore on, joining other tributaries rushing down from the mountains. Occasionally they saw huts or small boating communities and waved at the children who took delight in their passing. There was little traffic on or between either bank, and only one bridge, which required the mast to be unstepped and lowered, Gnasset dismissing the offer of help from Odo, skilfully using a mechanism of gears and pulleys to bring it down and raise it again.

  Hundred remarked on the lack of traffic on both river and riverbank, putting the blame on the regent, who had clamped down on the movement of Tofte’s traders and raised tolls that made travel uneconomic. The state of the Hyrst River reflected the state of the kingdom as a whole, she feared, where short-term gain for the regent would be paid for by long-term disaster.

  Once they spied a trio of disconsolate-looking knights hacking through an overgrown path on the eastern bank of the river. Their markings declared them to be from Nhaga, a prosperous province half to the east of Winterset as Lenburh was to the west. They looked tired and dusty.

  ‘Nhagese knights,’ Hundred said to Egda. ‘They were ever among the most loyal, sire. Should we … ?’

  ‘Do you recognise any?’ asked Egda.

  ‘One has the look and stature of Sir Haelf the Tall,’ replied Hundred. ‘A daughter … granddaughter, perhaps.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Egda, answering Hundred’s unfinished question. ‘We may have need of them.’

  ‘Can you bring us closer to shore?’ Hundred called to Gnasset, who shrugged but obeyed. ‘Within arrow range but outside the reach of a throwing knife. There.’

  Hundred stood up and waved her arms as the barge slowed, both wind and current weaker near the bank.

  ‘Good knights!’ she called. ‘Where head you?’

  ‘Winterset!’ called out a very tall woman with an accent that emphasised her r’s. ‘Spare us your offer of passage. We can’t afford it.’

  ‘A knight short of coin? You must have fallen on hard times.’

  ‘Hard times indeed, for we have lost our lands and our livelihood. We go to petition the prince to reconsider his recent actions.’

  ‘Are you the rebels I’ve heard rumours of?’

  ‘We are no rebels!’ exclaimed one of the other knights, a man with a vivid scar under his chin, like a second mouth. ‘Our loyalty to the Crown is unquestioned!’

  ‘Well then, penniless knights, would you consider a boon?’ Hundred called back. ‘My father was a soldier. He had that same footsore look as you on returning from a campaign. Rest on a barge headed in the direction you’re going will gain you much and cost me nothing.’

  The knights quickly conferred as the Photine grew nearer.

  ‘Very well, we accept your offer with thanks,’ said the tall woman. ‘I can’t deny it would be a blessing.’

  Gnasset brought the barge in to gently touch the shore. Odo helped the three knights aboard, and gave them their aliases: Hilda, Otto and Ethel. The knights introduced themselves as Sir Uen (the scarred man), Sir Talorc and Sir Brude (the tall woman). Sir Talorc had the breadth of a man but the voice of a woman, so Eleanor decided to think of her that way. They were road-worn, shedding dirt where they sat. When Uen removed his helmet and mail coif, a shower of pebbles rained to the deck.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘We had to sell our horses and our march has been long, without a doubt. Your hailing us is the first bit of luck we’ve had for a week.’

  ‘Charity does not sit well with us, however,’ said Sir Talorc. ‘We would earn our way to Winterset, if you’d allow it. Find us a chore, or allow us to defend you if the pirates that have been known to ply the Hyrst River put in an appearance—’

  ‘Rest assured,’ said Hundred, raising one hand for silence, ‘if the need arises, we will ask. Tell us what has befallen you. We are eager for news from the east.’

  The three knights spun a familiar tale: the arrival of Instruments from Winterset bringing new rules and demands for increased tithing, backed up by official documents and force. Unable to break her oath to the Crown, Sir Brude had capitulated first, then joined forces with Sir Uen and Sir Talorc from neighbouring estates as word spread of similar misfortune. They had accordingly set forth to put their plight to Prince Kendryk himself, though they had also heard the rumours that he had been supplanted by his grandmother.

  ‘Knights have been stewards of the land and its people for generations,’ said Sir Talorc. ‘We have served in peacetimes and war. We have given our lives countless times! Who are these Instruments to tell us we’re no longer needed? On what grounds do these Regulators overturn centuries of tradition? By what right do the Adjustors plan to rule?’

  ‘Some might say,’ said Hundred in a tone that made it clear she was playing devil’s advocate, not espousing a true position, ‘that this system will be fairer than the old. It sweeps away the privileges of knighthood and replaces it with a hierarchy that is more accessible to all.’

  ‘Whoever said that would be spouting nonsense!’ exclaimed Sir Uen. ‘I was born of peasant farmers, and gained my knighthood on the field of battle, as so many have done, or by adoption. Knights are present for all in need, and obey the ancient laws and customs. These Instruments follow no laws but new ones they make to their sole advantage, and they have the backing of either the prince or the regent to do it. If it is the regent, then she shall pay for … that is …’

  He stopped talking as he realised he might have gone too far.

  ‘There might be many other knights like you,’ said Odo. ‘If you all gathered together, you could form an army.’

  ‘A dangerous strategy,’ said Sir Brude. ‘One that would plunge the kingdom into civil war.’

  ‘Sometimes even a civil war is merited,’ said Sir Talorc glumly. ‘We hope it is the regent behind all this. If it is Prince Kendryk himself – the rightful king – I do not know what we can do. Leave the kingdom and become mercenaries, to die in the far west, I suppose.’

  ‘Your loyalty
to the king is commendable,’ said Hundred. ‘What if we could prove to you that he is innocent, and it is indeed the regent who plagues the kingdom with these Instruments, Regulators, new taxes and tolls?’

  ‘I wish you could,’ said Sir Brude warily. ‘But where would you find such proof? What do river-plying merchants know of affairs of state?’

  Hundred reached into a pocket and tossed her a silver penny. Sir Brude caught it and turned it over in her hand.

  ‘What is this?’ she asked.

  ‘The proof you require,’ said Egda, emerging from the cabin.

  He looked as regal as anyone could after a long trip through mountains and forests, battling beasts and enemies as he went. His gold blindfold, now facing outward again, was as straight as his back. His expression was as proud as his nose. Beside him, jewels gleaming, hung Biter and Runnel, floating points-up like a supernatural honour guard.

  Sir Talorc gasped and lunged forward onto one knee. ‘Highness!’

  The other two knights were quick to follow.

  Egda waved them onto their feet. ‘A king no longer,’ he said. ‘I abdicated the throne, and I have sworn the same oath to the Crown as you, as a simple knight. My abdication was foolish, born of an excess of pride, as might also be said of my self-exile to the Temple of Midnight. But though I have been slow to return, I now go to mend matters and ensure my great-nephew sits upon the throne, not my treacherous sister. Are you with me?’

  The three knights drew their swords and cried, ‘Yes!’

  ‘Need I remind you, my liege, that we are being hunted?’ Hundred said, but with a smile. ‘Pray resume your seats, friends, and let us make proper introductions.’

  Biter’s plan, of course, was to storm the palace as soon as they arrived. But only he believed that deposing the regent would be so simple. There was Lord Deor and his evil sword to consider, and the lighter of the craft-fires, not to mention a kingdom full of the regent’s underlings.

  Matters only became more complicated when, with a flutter of wings, Tip dropped out of the sky above, sensitive eyes blinking in the daylight.

  ‘d! a! n! g! e! r! d! a! n! g! e! r!’

  The three knights, seasoned by the return of the former king with two young knights and their magical swords, took a talking bat in their stride. The news Tip brought, however, made all give pause.

  The coronation of the regent was scheduled for dawn the next morning. In the name of security, Lord Deor had ordered the Hyrst River gate closed and all visitors searched. There would be no entrance to the city by barge, not for Egda and his three friends.

  ‘Roads too will be watched,’ said Hundred. ‘We won’t get in that way either.’

  ‘Overland, perhaps?’ suggested Sir Brude.

  ‘That would take too long,’ said Egda. He pressed his hands together and tapped the tips of his index fingers to his chin. ‘There must be another route …’

  An idea occurred to Eleanor that she almost immediately dismissed.

  ‘What about … no, that would be too dangerous.’

  ‘Tell us anyway,’ said Hundred.

  ‘She eats danger for dinner, remember?’ said Odo.

  ‘Well, I was thinking of how we got out of Ablerhyll,’ Eleanor continued. ‘Through the urthkin tunnels. Shache said there were tunnels under every city, but then I remembered her telling us that humans aren’t allowed in the undercities without permission, so unless we’re going to fight the urthkin as well …’

  She shrugged. It had seemed a good plan for an instant, but now everyone was staring at her with wide eyes, like she had gone mad.

  ‘The pact does indeed forbid humans from entering urthkin territory uninvited,’ said Egda. ‘But the pact is broken. The normal rules do not apply.’

  ‘We can enter through the Shadow Way,’ said Hundred, ‘and petition the Monarch Below herself. If she grants us passage, we will avoid Lord Deor’s precautions entirely.’

  ‘And come up on the regent from underneath,’ said Odo, clapping Eleanor on the back. ‘That’s brilliant! Oh, except for the going underground part,’ he added, remembering how awful it had been the last time. ‘But apart from that, good thinking!’

  Eleanor beamed at the praise.

  ‘We would gladly accompany you into the undercity,’ said Sir Brude, speaking for her companions as well. ‘Might I suggest, however, that instead we provide a diversion at the river gate, to ensure your safe passage through the Shadow Way? Both will certainly be watched.’

  Egda nodded. ‘That is a wise plan.’

  ‘The barge will reach the Hyrst River gate in an hour.’ Hundred looked up, taking in the darkening sky to the east. ‘Night will fall at the same time. We have that long to prepare. Eleanor – next time you have a good idea, do not keep it to yourself.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I mean no, sir, I won’t. I promise.’

  Sir Brude winked at her. ‘Remember this day, young knight. A superior may never ask you for advice again.’

  The hour passed quickly. Odo and Eleanor donned their armour for the first time in days, and darkened its sheen with mud drawn from the riverbank, as did the others. Tip, after a fond welcome from Odo, scouted the way ahead, returning frequently to assure them that there were no obvious observers on either side of the river. Ahead, they could see the lights of Winterset proper, twinkling in the dusk. Each slow twist of the water brought them nearer to the capital.

  Homes began to crowd the water, and Photine was joined by many other boats, the likes of which Odo had never seen. People of all shapes and colours swarmed the decks, calling to each other in unfamiliar accents. The speech of some of them was impossible to decipher. They might as well have been talking a different language!

  ‘There,’ said Hundred, pointing at the port shore.

  Gnasset guided Photine towards the bank.

  Dimly through the gathering gloom Eleanor made out upraised pillars and partial arches standing out above thick undergrowth: the ruins of an ancient stone building, long left to neglect.

  Photine bumped ashore and the two parties bade a soft farewell. Sirs Brude, Talorc and Uen would go with Gnasset to the river gate, to sneak in and distract the guards watching the area around the Shadow Way. Odo hoped they would get through safely, and Gnasset and Photine would safely reach her normal berth. He liked the silent captain, and the knights were good, brave people he hoped to see again soon.

  Hundred led the way along a narrow path through the undergrowth as the barge pushed off, its sail catching the evening breeze with a snap. The way ahead was still and quiet. There was no sign of watchers of either species, human or urthkin, but Eleanor didn’t doubt they were there. The Shadow Way was the entrance to the secret undercity; people weren’t going to be allowed to just wander in.

  At a dense stand of bushes, Hundred silently urged them to stop and wait. Tip joined them, finding a handy branch at eye level. He quietly chirped that he too had seen no one nearby.

  They sat and waited, making as little noise as possible, for perhaps an hour.

  Then, suddenly, from the south came the warning blast of a horn, three times. Eleanor and Odo turned to face the source of the sound, although of course they could see nothing. The Hyrst River was much too far away, and by now the night was as dark as a tomb. Faintly, though, they thought they could hear shouting.

  Egda alone had cocked his head in the opposite direction. Moments later, they heard what he heard: a crunching of twigs and leaves as two people moved away through the undergrowth. Guards, drawn to the aid of the river gate by the blowing of the horn.

  The four of them shrank back into deeper shadows as the guards went by. Once they were safely past and their footfalls could no longer be heard, Tip fluttered off to make sure there were no more. He returned a moment later with the all clear.

  ‘Follow closely,’ Hundred whispered to Eleanor and Odo. ‘Keep your swords sheathed. We leave our enemies behind us.’

  The ruins rose up to enfold them, and slowly the vegetation f
ell away. Their boots crunched on pebbles and flakes of slate. Hundred surrendered guidance of the party to Egda, who needed no light to follow the path. Sometimes he stopped to feel his way forward with the tip of his staff, or perhaps employ other senses, such as sound or smell. Once, he dropped to one knee and tasted a pinch of the earth. Satisfied, he led them on, Tip flying silently above.

  Out of the ruins, a gaping archway appeared, the only intact structure Eleanor had yet seen. It had to be the Shadow Way itself, for Egda led them unhesitatingly inside.

  Darkness swallowed them. Even sound seemed to fade away into nothing. Odo held his breath, not knowing if the walls were yards or inches away. Either way, the air itself pressed close and still, as though just opening his mouth might put him at risk of drowning.

  Egda led them ten paces, then stopped.

  ‘Stone make you strong,’ he said, bowing low. ‘Darkness clear your sight.’

  Four silver-veined figures, glowing from the inside out, stepped from the impenetrable shadows.

  ‘Wide be your halls,’ said one. ‘Tunnels guide you true.’

  Instead of Shache’s pleased tones on hearing the traditional honorific, this urthkin’s response was thin with suspicion.

  ‘Turn back, human travellers. This is not your path.’

  ‘But it is,’ said Egda, still bowing low. ‘We humbly seek an audience with the Monarch Below.’

  The urthkin hissed. ‘The scortwisa supreme takes no visitors of your kind, not after the breaking of the pact.’

  ‘It is on this matter I wish to speak with her.’

  ‘Your wishes are not her wishes, sky-dweller.’

  ‘They were once,’ said Egda, bowing deeper still. This was the urthkin equivalent of standing taller. ‘I am Egdalhurd Begimund Coren Theothelm of House Chlodochar, once King Above of the Human Realm and keeper of the pact between my people and yours. I do not demand audience, but I hope and believe that my old friend Thrieff will see me when she knows I am here, if you would be so good as to let her know.’