Adversaries Together

by Daniel Casey

“You killed Kira.”

  “No, I killed a whore who was trying to kill you.”

  “She was giving me some laudanum for the pain.”

  “It was nightshade.”

  “How did you…”

  “Before she tried to give it to you she thought she had slipped enough into my raki.”

  “Kira?”

  Jena covered her face with her hand in exasperation, “Kira was put on a different boat than you and me. We were on a boat with this woman whose job was to kill us and then get killed herself by your Cathedral.”

  “But you killed her.”

  “Cathedral thought I killed your Kira too. We had a scuffle.”

  “That’s how you got away? That’s how they found me.”

  “And it seems they then decided to blame you for the whole mess.”

  “Which was why they threw you into the hole,” Declan was all but naked as he crossed the room to a large black wood wardrobe. He opened it and started to dress, “And why I had to pull you out and kill six men to do it. So we need to hurry and get out of the city.” He started throwing clothes at Goshen.

  “You were sentenced as a Hopeless. The Cathedral won’t like that you’re out.” Jena seemed not even to see that Declan was there but kept her gaze on Goshen, “We need to get out of the city, get a ship, and meet up with Kira.”

  “Where is Kira?”

  “I don’t know.” Jena was uninterested.

  “But you just said…”

  “If she’s alive, she’s with Roth.” She saw that this didn’t register with him, “The one who saved you and her from the bandits in the marsh. He brought you into Anhra, he hired me to bring you two here to your precious Cathedral outpost, and chances are he’s with Kira.”

  “He sent an assassin to kill you.” Goshen was still fuzzy on everything.

  “No,” Declan spoke, “I’ve been following you since Sulecin. Roth didn’t have anything to with that.”

  “Following us? Since Sulecin.” Goshen grabbed Declan’s wrist and for a moment had a sure grip, but it faded nearly as quick.

  Declan smiled, didn’t shake off Goshen but spun his hand and took a hold of Goshen’s shaking it as though the two were mates, “Yeah, we can talk about that once we’re out of here.”

  “Wait…”

  Declan stood, “Get changed.” He barked.

  Goshen started to undress, “Why would Kira be with Roth? Who’s Roth?”

  “The man who saved you and Kira outside Anhra.” Jena pinched the bridge of her nose and furrowed her brow annoyed, “Something went wrong. We know it did on our end. Chances are something went wrong on Roth’s end as well, and that end involves your precious Kira.”

  “I…that doesn’t…seems flimsy.” Goshen was struggling to dress.

  “Don’t worry your muddled little head about it,” Declan squatted in front of him, took back the leathers he had given him in the cellblock, and patted him on the head, “We’re not the brains of this operation, we’re just the muscle.”

  “You’re not that either.” Jena stood and left the room.

  Declan watched her leave, he was staring after her when he spoke to Goshen, “She is angry, a lot of the time. And at both of us.” He turned to Goshen and smiled, “So…since Sulecin…”

  Siracene Highlands, 19th of Mabon

  Reg had seen them coming from a far way out. When they got to the camp, there was a fire going and a medium sized kettle cooking. When they had tied up the horses, they gladly approached the fire, the two women sitting immediately to warm themselves. Wynne came over to Roth who was looking out into the woods as the light faded trying to find traces of Reg.

  “Your friend?”

  “He’s out there.”

  “Is he worried about us?”

  Roth shook his head, “If he’s out there he’s either looking for food or making sure we’re alright.” He turned to face Wynne with a slight grin, “No worries, Senator.”

  Wynne returned a humoring smile, “We’ll talk, later tonight.”

  Roth raised an eyebrow, but Wynne had already turned away, “What is in the pot?”

  Fery had been peering in, “It looks like yahni but smells…squashy.”

  “That’s because it is.” From out of the deep twilight and wooded shadows came Reg, in one hand he had two conies and in the other a long thin sword in its scabbard. He looked at Roth and nodded, “I thought there was only going to be one.”

  “You know how it is,” Roth came up and took the rabbits from Reg, “Picking up tag-alongs and chaperons.”

  Reg nodded, sat, and set the scabbard next to him, “The yahni is from curcurbita, there’s patches of them all over these lower hills. Best to take advantage of them now.” He winked at Fery.

  “Wise,” Wynne sat, “I am Wynne Landis, my daughter Fery. The chaperon and tag-along respectively.”

  Reg grinned, “You’re a noble.”

  “I am a civic of Rikonen.”

  “A civic? Not quite a soldier but more than a guard.”

  “Something like that, we were the peacekeepers.”

  “How is that working for you all in Rikonen these days?”

  Wynne didn’t raise to bait, “Well, I did say ‘were.’”

  Reg seemed to like that answer, “Roth.”

  “I’m coming.” Roth appeared with the rabbits again only this time with a rougher looking knife and a large sack. He tossed the bag to Reg who opened it and handed to Kira three wooden bowls, “Pass them down, child.” He dug out some spoons as well and a ladle, giving them to Kira, “Help yourselves to the soup.”

  “So,” Fery began to ladle some of the yahni into her bowl and then handed it to Kira, taking the empty bowl from her, “You’re Reg, then?”

  Reg nodded, pointed, “You must be Kira.”

  “Yes.” Kira replied sheepish.

  “A lot of bother to come find you.” He said flatly.

  “Not your concern Reg,” Roth spoke without looking up from the animal he was dressing.

  “Kinda is, Roth, I left Colm alone,” he turned back to Kira, “To find you. And now there are two more folks I have to care for.”

  “We’re in no need of your care.” Fery was a little defensive but finding herself charmed a bit by a man who was clearly well out of his native land.

  “Aren’t you now? Familiar with the Siracenes are ya?” Reg smiled, “Well, then, by all means, I won’t hold you back.”

  “Reg,” Roth had finished the first rabbit and was in on to the second, “These aren’t the enemy, these are the allies.”

  Reg looked back at Roth, and then slowly turned back to the fire circle. It looked like he was about to turn back to Roth again when he seemed to mumble something to himself.

  “You’re from Arderra, then, Reg?” Wynne tried to change the subject.

  “Hmm?” Reg was lost for a moment, “Ah…no, no, not from Arderra. Though I have a small homestead near there along the Stony Shore. I’m Novosar, born and raised in Calla.”

  “I thought your accent was northern.”

  “It stays, can’t shake it.” Reg smiled, “My son though, well, he sounds like a proper Silvincian.”

  “He’s always lived near Arderra?”

  “His whole life. Stony Shore and these highlands. Never seen anything beyond it. And I would have that be his life.”

  “Seems an odd thing.” Fery said.

  “Ranging is no life.” Reg was serious but then spoke louder in a playful manner, “I’d have no child of mine end up like Roth there.”

  The others shared a bit of a laugh. Roth ignored them all. He came over to the fire with the rabbits dressed and skewered; he set the spit and sat back, “I’m no ranger.”

  “No ranger, but who ranges. No Athingani, but one raised with them. I’ve no idea about you.” Kira spoke up having ignored her now cold bowl.

  Roth gave a look of resignation and let out a long sigh, “Still with this?”

  “I just need to understa
nd.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  “I need to. Now especially.”

  “Alright. Alright.” Roth sat cross-legged; he leaned forward and turned the spit. “We’re going to the Siracenes. If Jena is alive she’ll have Goshen with her, and they’ll be heading there.”

  “That’s not what…” Kira protested but Roth raised a hand and cut her off, “Just let me tell you in my way.”

  “Siracenes is a good way off from Bandra.” Wynne was skeptical.

  Reg nodded, “Over a thousand leagues.”

  Roth shook his head, “It’s not quite that, Reg.”

  Reg shrugged, “All I know is that’s it’s far. Especially for a rogue paladin.”

  Roth seemed exasperated and looked at them all annoyed, “Just let me tell you.” He waited a moment for the rest of the troop to assent. They each nodded or shrugged for him to continue, “Jena is more than capable. She can get away. At the very least, she’ll want to meet up just to beat me.”

  “Maybe,” Wynne spoke, “But why the Siracenes?”

  “The Cruor.”

  Wynne blinked, “That’s a myth.”

  “No, it’s a place forgotten because you killed all the people who knew where it was.” Roth was blunt and dismissive.

  “I think that’s a bit harsh.” Wynne said. He turned to Reg, “Roth knows how to get there. Jena knows how to get there. I’m supposing you do as well. Which all makes me wonder if you’re not leading us to some free ranger encampment.”

  “You think I’m leading you into a trap?” Roth scoffed and Reg’s eyes glimmered supremely entertained.

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Kira said definitively. Wynne nodded saying nothing more about it.

  “Well that’s something,” Roth smiled at Kira and continued, “The Cruor is the only place nearby where I’m sure we’ll be safe. Once there, it’s just a matter of waiting for Jena and Goshen.”

  “What if they don’t show? How long do we stay there before we…” Kira trailed off.

  “Before we what?”

  She swallowed hard and said sheepishly, “Do something else.”

  “I don’t know.” Roth seemed to consent to his limits.

  “This is a terrible plan.” Fery said matter-of-factly but without malice.

  “It is what it is.” Reg tried to placate her.

  “No, it’s not. Dragging us up into the highlands to hold up until someone who may or may not be dead shows up?” Fery was livid, “We didn’t leave Rikonen to just hide in the mountains.”

  “We’re not hiding.” Roth snapped. “And they’re not mountains.” He mumbled.

  “I don’t see the difference.” Fery threw back.

  “And what would you have us do? Assault The Cathedral? Assassinate the Assemblage? Draft your precious captain to raid the coasts? What adventure do you want, girl?” Roth knew he was tossing ridiculous scenarios at Fery, but he was sick of her constant criticism and complete lack of encouragement.

  “She wants her home back.” Kira barked at him defending her friend but clearly aggrieved at having to arbitrate between the two of them.

  “I’m doing what needs to be done. What do you want? You want Goshen back. Well, the most likely way to see him again is to wait for Jena.”

  “You don’t know she’s alive.” Kira said.

  “If I’m alive, she’s alive.” Roth was absolute, his tone defiantly so.

  “I don’t see the reasoning there, at all.” Fery flicked her hand, dismissing Roth’s assertion.

  “When you were in the streets, homeless, days and weeks running like some street rat, did you know that your father was dead?” Kira asked Fery, her face stern.

  “No.” Fery said quietly.

  “Did you ever believe he was dead?” Kira pressed.

  “No, but…”

  Kira turned to Wynne, “Did you ever doubt your daughter was alive even after you saw the wreckage that was left in the wake of the mobs? Did you waver when you saw new black smoke plumes, when you saw more and more desperate people roam the streets like sick beasts?”

  “I did not.” Wynne’s tone was level but he watched Kira approvingly.

  Roth picked up on Kira’s line of reasoning, “And Kira, she’s never doubted that Goshen would come back for her that he would fight to get back to her.” Kira nodded and Roth turned to face Fery, “So why is it so suspect that I know that if I’m alive and that Jena is stronger, better than me, then she’s alive still?”

  There was silence but for the flickering of the flames. Reg reached up to pull the spit off, the rabbit was well charred, and though hot, his fingers seemed immune to the heat as he pulled off the meat. He plopped the pieces in his bowl, picked up a piece and ate it gingerly, blowing on it as he put it in his mouth. He held out the rest to Kira, and nudged her with the bowl.

  “I think we all understand the reasoning.” Reg broke the silence, “But that still doesn’t mean it’s a good plan.” He seemed uninterested in the discussion as he ate.

  The others chuckled a bit; Roth shook his head grinning, “I think we can wait for Jena and Goshen there. I think once they show up, we can put together a proper plan. And if they don’t, we can still put together a proper plan.”

  “For what exactly,” Reg chewed a bit, then spit a piece of bone into the fire, “do we need a plan to do?”

  The bowl had made its way around to Roth, who held up his hand as Wynne tried to hand it to him, and said assertively “That’s an excellent question.”

  Lappala, 20th of Mabon

  No part of the city looked well made, and as you got closer, it appeared more and more plausible that the entire thing would come crashing down at any moment. From across the arid plain, the city stood out on the horizon, a grand pillar. For leagues around in all directions, it was the only notable landmark and though you moved towards it, you never seemed to get any closer. This was more a result of the barrenness of the desert, which had gone from huge sand dunes to a kind of gravely steppe, a patchy range of a sickly hue stretching for what seemed like ungodly ages. The sun in the cloudless sky shone unrelenting. Heat rose up in invisible waves, seemingly racing the wind. Shade was coveted. The walls of Lappala wrinkled and wavered like some mocking mirage; an endpoint forever just out of reach.

  They had quickly transitioned to traveling at dusk, night, and dawn not so much to avoid notice as to shirk the burden of the sun. Other travelers and caravans could be seen miles off in this part of the world, there was no worry of being ambushed in this wide-open expanse. When they had first come down from the Ragans, the evening was proper pitch black. Yet as they moved deeper into The Aral, evening became less and less dark. The sky stayed clear, eternally cloudless, allowing the shine of the moons and the stars to cast an eerie silvery light. But it was the looming great city on the horizon that dominated the night. At first, it flickered like a distant torch. Towsend had assumed they were close as the light became brighter but this was an illusion. The city was the only thing in the desert, it was huge, and it filled the horizon with pulsating dome of orange light.

  Cochrane and Towsend were now only a few leagues away from Lappala, the looming, ramshackle colossus. Homes were built upon homes like a child stacking blocks; there was zero uniformity, obvious haphazardness rising higher and higher into the sky. Towsend had never seen such a structure; there was no city wall, just hard dirt paths from all directions intersecting the sheer heights. Clothes, banners, wires, planks, and lattices hung out of nearly every block connecting it to the one next to, above, and below it. Green vegetation dangled from these falling over the edges like some kind of vomit as blackened windows released gray and white smoke from time to time with forms moving about their banal routines ignorant of their place in the iconic structure. He gazed up at the city façade and followed the stacks down what seemed an infinite distance.

  “Getting in won’t be a problem.” Cochrane said, snapping his fingers for the monocular to be handed over to him.

&nb
sp; “No?” Towsend asked giving the spyglass to him.

  “It’ll be knowing where to go once inside.”

  Towsend nodded, “Are there even streets? It looks too compact; the roads seem to just cut off.”

  Cochrane clicked his tongue, “Well, I imagine each road is a gate, every gate leads to what I guess you could call a street. It looks more like a crevice though, a crease in the push of the city’s stacking.”

  “How was this ever made?” Towsend wondered.

  Cochrane folded the monocular and shrugged, “These are all worker homes, families that have been mining the quarry for centuries. People who have never known anything but the city and mine. I guess as you move to the center of the city you make your way to the mine entrance, and that’s where all the roads lead.”

  “Makes sense,” Towsend assented, “So these are homes stacked upon one another.”

  “Infinite and vast.” Cochrane said.

  Towsend nodded, “It’s not just the mine. It’s this city, these workers.”

  “But it looks so…”

  “Impoverished?” Towsend turned to Cochrane.

  Cochrane snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Yes.”

  “A cartel of some sort rules here. The citizens only know work and what’s doled out to them to keep them going.

  “Like I said, there must be bloodlines that have lived and died here never having known anything other than the pit and their own shanty. The city is one great slum. So where does the cartel rule from?”

  Towsend smiled, “From the deep black heart of the city.”

  Cochrane turned away and began to make camp unpacking his satchels for the evening.

  Towsend continued to stare at the strange city, “We’re not going in now?”

  Cochrane paused and rubbed his chin, “No,” he seemed conflicted, “Wouldn’t it be best if we entered during the day? Once we get in there it’ll seem like night.”

  “Yeah?” Towsend asked.

  “The shanties rise so high and are so tightly packed I doubt light makes it down. It’s like a penitent’s chamber, time moves but you have no real sense of it. Only those who live on the roof plateau and those out here on the boundary understand how days pass like we do.”