by Max Anthony
This particular letter opener was slightly sharper than the majority of its peers, for its original owner had ordered it bespoke for the dual purposes of opening letters and slicing fruit. Because of this good fortune, it took Spout only an hour and a half of vigorously rasping it across the unyielding rope before she finally met success and two ends of it parted company. After these endeavours, her palms felt like they’d been abraded with a rough stone then dipped in salty vinegar, while her arms were aching from the uncomfortable position she was in.
As the evening progressed, the cabin became dark but the barge laboured on, soldiers muttering to themselves under their breaths that this wasn’t what they had signed up for. With a bit more freedom to operate in the darkness and with one arm already free, Spout had her other arm free in a further thirty minutes. After a final fifteen minutes of painful sawing, the faithful letter opener had entirely separated her from Skulks.
Heathen Spout was a woman who had spent many years running a city of a million people and had long since overcome her naturally indecisive nature. “Act quickly and with the best of intentions,” she would repeat to herself when confronted with a difficult situation. With this in mind, she nudged the cabin door open a tiny crack. She was at the front of the barge, and the soldiers generally propelled it from aft. There was no one visible in front of the door and she heard nothing nearby. Of Lunder there was no sign.
She looked back at Skulks, now free of ropes but lying on the bed, one leg kicking slightly as if he was dreaming about something pleasant. Having propped the door open, Spout took a deep breath, put a hand under each of his arms and pulled him gently off the bed. By Plumpus, Scretal and Trembo he was heavy, she thought - much heavier than he looked. Still, not a woman easily dissuaded once she’d made her mind up, Spout straightened her back and pushed from her knees. Years of lifting crates in the Chamber Building basement had taught her how to carry a heavy load without doing herself an injury. The trouble was, she was nearly sixty years old and Skulks was a lot heavier than a crate full of edicts. Walking backwards she dragged the unconscious lump of Skulks up the three steps onto the deck, took three further steps and then the two of them were gone over the side with a splash.
The sight of Spout, illuminated by an oil lamp on the bow as she vanished over the side with Skulks, was the cause of some consternation. Shouting and general scrambling around ensued as the soldiers fluttered in a quandary, none of them wanting to jump into the cold water. Besides, the momentum of the barge had already carried it some yards away from the spot at which Spout had jumped overboard.
Huffing and puffing, Tiopan Lunder hauled himself on deck from his aft cabin, enquiring as to the nature of the furore which had disturbed his fitful slumber. Upon learning of the reasons for it, he snarled, berated his men most roundly and cast up into the sky a Mage’s Light of Seeing, which spread light upon the river over a large diameter. Ordering the barge to be brought about, he gave instruction to his men that they should look for the escapees and that they should strip themselves of clothing in preparation for the unexpected dip they were about to take in the Ten Dams.
As this was transpiring, Spout was ten feet underwater, one elbow crooked under Skulks’ neck with a hand pinching his nose and mouth closed. She kicked with her legs, heading downriver and desperately trying to put some distance between herself and Lunder’s barge. In her youth she’d been an excellent swimmer, but these days the closest she came to a swim was her nightly bath with which she indulged herself at the end of every day. Fortunately, she kept herself in shape, walking everywhere at a stern pace to keep the blood flowing. Even so, and even with the buoyancy provided by the water, Skulks was heavy and she was too long out of practise.
She managed thirty or forty yards underwater, a monumental effort in the circumstances. When she was forced to the surface by the need for air she was already exhausted, though the barge of Lunder was now far enough away that the occupants couldn’t easily see her and the light from Lunder’s spell didn’t reach the place she’d surfaced. In spite of this, Spout already felt herself fading. The gentle current, so benign when watched from the riverbank suddenly seemed to be rushing her along at speed, pulling her gradually towards the centre of the river, rather than towards the bank as she’d hoped. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t enough; her breathing became laboured and yet still unable to provide enough oxygen to fuel her body. Too proud to let go of Skulks and have him drown, she’d fought herself into a position where she had no energy left for herself. Still clinging to Skulks, she felt herself slip under the water.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heathen Spout wasn’t sure how she’d got there, but she woke up on the bank of the river, feeling like she’d been kicked in the lungs by four angry horses.
“She’s coming around I think,” she heard someone say.
“Yeah,” said another. There was a pause. “She’s not as hideous as we was led to believe is she?”
“Not hideous at all,” said a third voice.
“Quite young looking for a great granny too.”
Not entirely sure what they were talking about, Spout coughed a few times and raised herself up onto an elbow.
“Good evening Missus,” said one of the four men, all of them looking strong enough to carry a three hundred mug ale barrel on each shoulder. “Erm, or is it Your Ladyship?” he corrected himself.
None-the-wiser as to their jabberings, Spout turned her attention to the known quantities.
“Where’s Skulks?” she asked them.
“Skulks? I don’t know Ma’am,” this being the third different mode of address she’d heard from them so far. “We pulled your nephew out with you though. He’s still out cold, even though Bert’s given him the kiss of life.” He pondered for a few seconds. “Though truth be told I’d want to stay dead if Bert was giving me a kiss.” A man whom she assumed was Bert gave himself away by telling the first man where he could shove his kiss if he were ever to find himself drowning.
“What about the barge following us?” asked Spout.
“It went thataway,” said one of the men, pointing down river. The fourth man was coming back from the riverbank where he’d been looking downriver. He returned just in time to hear this.
“It did go thataway. But now it’s coming thisaway again.”
Spout’s heart fell. “We need to get away from them.”
With a mind capable of performing miracles in a crisis, Spout had a sudden thought. Scrambling over to Skulks, she rifled through his clothing, once more finding the golden compass he had in his pocket. She’d heard Lunder talk about his trap that Skulks had blundered into and she’d seen him looking often at a little compass just like this one. Not knowing what it was for, but guessing it to be something malign, she threw it as far out into the river as she could, ignoring the puzzled faces on the men.
As it happens, Skulks had been fooled by the wizard’s equivalent of two tin cans connected by a piece of string. The compasses were paired, one always pointing towards the other. In the right hands, it was possible to use the compasses to determine how far away the other one was. So while Skulks had been congratulating himself on his stolen trinket, Lunder was congratulating himself that a Wielder had fallen into his simple trap by purloining said trinket.
Back in the present, Lunder was watching his own compass and noticed how the needle veered slightly, though it remained at approximately the same distance from him. So, as he sent eight reluctant soldiers into the night-time depths of the Ten Dams River, Skulks and Spout were making their way past them down the bank towards the Whimsical Ballerina three hundred yards away, with Skulks slung over Scram’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
During the brief walk one of the men introduced himself as Farance and pointed out the others by name. He assured Spout that they’d get to safety on account of theirs being the fastest barge in all of Ko-Chak, Rhult and the Treads Archipelago. Within a short time, they were underway. Spout instructed that Skulk
s should be positioned up near the fore of the barge, while she remained aft. She wasn’t quite sure what Lunder had done but had spent some time in his company as he’d cast his numerous spells upon her, while dismissing her questions. She had gathered sufficient information from his demeanour and also from overhearing his conversations nearby, that he was setting a trap. It was now apparent that the trap had been intended to snare the incautious approach of Tan Skulks. Remembering Lunder’s repeated insistence that Spout and Skulks’ dribbling husk should not be parted, she guessed that something in the spell demanded their proximity. Though she’d have preferred to put a greater distance between them, she had little choice on the barge and she certainly wasn’t going to leave Skulks behind.
As it happens, she had correctly guessed the nature of the spell. Lunder’s magics kept Skulks’ mind trapped and held his body unconscious. However, it relied on Skulks being kept close to the source of the spell. Over time the spell would have naturally faded and Skulks would have eventually woken, assuming he hadn’t accidentally drowned or suffered some other mishap in the interim. This expiration could have taken weeks or potentially months. If left to the mercies of the spell’s time-keeping, Skulks would certainly have awoken to find Hardened under different leadership and his twenty-three thousand newly-minted Solids would have remained locked in the city’s coffers.
The journey back to Hardened took them almost two days. This was significantly longer than the time it had taken them to reach Lunder’s camp, for even with the flow of the river in their favour there was no wind and no Juffin Ti Lamplax to assist in the punting. During this time, Spout managed to piece together the tapestry of lies, mistruths and semi-truths that Skulks had told these men. Hideous old crone indeed, she thought to herself! She wasn’t upset; quite the opposite in fact, finding his over-the-top and probably unnecessary skulduggery faintly amusing. The city was paying him to do a job and as long as he did that job, Spout was content.
Feeling it her duty, given that the bargemen had proven themselves loyal and useful, she informed them that Juffin Ti Lamplax was in fact a covert operative in the employ of the city, investigating a nefarious enemy who would do them all harm. She explained that she was Heathen Spout, a kidnapped member of the Chamber Council and that the city would be most generous in settling its bills with respect to the hiring of the Whimsical Ballerina.
“Cor!” said Bert. “A Chamber Councillor on our very own barge.”
“His wife’s barge,” corrected Scram, pointing towards Farance.
Spout had wondered if the bargemen would show her any ill will, given that the finger of blame for the strikes had been squarely pointed at the Chamber Council. Not so, she found. The men were more curious than anything and expressed a desire for things to be back how they used to be. Spout spent a long time talking to them on their journey and found, like Skulks had earlier, that these men were being manipulated to foment unrest in Hardened. Having had it explained to them that Hardened in fact paid more than the upriver cities, the bargemen realised that their union had been playing them for fools.
Once they were safely returned to a berth in the Upriver Docks, Spout had them assist in the transportation of Skulks back to the Chamber Building. Chunky had the pleasure of carrying Skulks on this occasion, jouncing him up and down on his shoulder with every step. At the Chamber Building, Spout had two soldiers carry Skulks to her office. Then, she offered her sincerest thanks to the bargemen and instructed a clerk to pay the fee they’d agreed with Skulks, plus an additional three hundred Solids to be divided evenly between all four for services rendered to the state. She bade them farewell with a promise that she would do everything she could to bring an end to the strikes, but not to expect any pay rises given Hardened’s already generous terms.
With debts settled, she sent clerks scuttling to find Harman Granulis and Glady Fulup, on pain of a withering stare if they dawdled. A third clerk was dispatched to locate refreshments on pain of an even more withering stare. Heading back to her room, she entered it to find Skulks had already woken. The distance on the barge had weakened the spell, but the extra distance between them in the Chamber Building had broken it completely. Once broken, the spell lacked the power to renew itself, so Skulks was safe from further visits to the Amazing Maze of Amazements.
Sitting upright in one of Spout’s comfortable chairs, Skulks was smacking his lips for his mouth felt like a small and localised desert had formed in there while he was unconscious.
“What a fool I’ve been,” he croaked out. “Falling for that old chestnut.”
“Yes well, there’s no harm done is there?”
“How’d we get back here? What happened?” He sounded like he was talking with his tongue coated in sand.
Spout brought him up to speed with events. How, having seen them being bundled onto the barge in an obvious state of distress, the brave bargemen had followed them upriver, eventually rescuing both from their watery fate and assisting in their escape from Lunder.
“I liked them,” said Skulks. “Good, honest men.”
Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Granulis, with Fulup hot on his heels. Both were clearly relieved to see Spout fully intact and alert. Skulks for his part was clearly relieved to see a gentleman from the Chamber Building kitchens arrive with two jugs of cold juice and a tray holding an assortment of edible produce.
The Chamber Council talked while Skulks did his best impression of a Treadsian Giant Cave Hamster, with his cheeks puffed out enormously as he shoved food and drink into his mouth. Spout nibbled more genteelly on a piece of cake.
“Now then Skulks, we’d like to hear your side of the tale and to fill us in on any details that Heathen has missed,” said Granulis.
“Uffl ufffll fllr?” asked Skulks.
Realising they were not likely to get much sense out of him, all three waited impatiently until Skulks had finished eating. After what seemed like an age, Skulks pushed aside the tray as if he’d politely had enough, though the tray was empty. They talked for some time as Skulks filled in the many gaps left in Spout’s description.
“So this has all been a plot to overthrow us? Murders, strikes, Rat Gods and now an outright assault?” demanded Fulup? “Nine hundred years of peaceful meritocracy to be stolen away so that a petty, trumped-up little Rhultian pretend-king can milk this fine city dry?” Fulup was angry.
“And once he has Hardened, he’ll be upriver for High Domes before you know it! Whither then for the rest of Ko-Chak?” exclaimed Spout, now aware of the fullness of King Meugh’s plans.
“We’ve been weak! Lulled into a false sense of security by our wealth and our commerce!”
Granulis thumped his fist into his hand. He was a born orator and the gesture came naturally to him. Skulks had seen many speeches from both the rich and the powerful. There were those who could incite and instil without effort and there were those who could not. Lucy Amber, for example, could turn the staunchest royalist into a ravening republican demagogue with a few words and a couple of hand-chopping motions. Those not so oratorically well-endowed occasionally employed coaches to assist them with their preparations, learning hand motions, pregnant pauses and key words to woo their audience. When compared to a natural speaker, those who were taught looked like a wooden puppet operated by a puppet master with severe palsy.
“Furthermore,” said Spout, “might I remind you I believe Lunder to have a number of men in the city, waiting for a key moment to pounce. That key moment might be now, if Meugh believes his plans have been sufficiently compromised.”
“We need to determine this Meugh’s strength,” said Fulup, mispronouncing it as ‘Moo’, a crime certain to have cost her a hand if the Petulant King had heard it directly. “Fetch Souter! He’s been dealing with our overseas correspondence.”
Minutes later, a clack-clacking presaged the arrival of the requested clerk. He looked perky this morning, almost chipper, as if a burdensome weight had been taken away from him.
“Clerk Souter, tell us about the Kingdom of Meugh,” demanded Granulis.
“The Kingdom of Meugh XII. Ruled by King Affluent Meugh, named by his father more in hope than in expectation. He rules his small kingdom with cunning and cruelty, playing his more powerful neighbours off against each other. The main commerce is in grain and smuggled goods. Their standing army is small by Rhultian standards but well-trained and with estimated forces of six thousand men.”
There was a quantity of plotting and not a small amount of scheming amongst the Chamber Council, with Clerk Souter pleased to be included. Eventually, Skulks left the room, his own mission clear.
Entering the Shipping Records Office, Captain Tan Skulks enlisted the assistance of his favourite elderly clerk to locate the manifests for Tiopan Lunder’s shipping company. Lunder owned two ships and used them to import his own goods, thereby saving significantly on the costs of transportation. Looking through the records, it appeared that he generally had four or five shipments per year, though there had been eight over the last year. If there was one thing Hardened was good at, it was keeping accurate records. The manifests for the last six shipments showed that on each occasion there had been ten or twelve passengers in addition to the crew. Ten or twelve men would be easy to disguise. They could just come ashore, enter a tavern and then disappear into the city. If they’d come to Hardened as visitors there’d be no requirement for them to appear on the outbound manifests.
“It may be,” thought Skulks, “that there are sixty or seventy foreign agents hiding in the city. Probably enough to storm the Chamber Building if acting in concert, particularly if Hardened’s army is occupied elsewhere.”
Chapter Twenty-Five