Gates of Ruin (Magelands Eternal Siege, #6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  The barman ran over. ‘I’ve called for the town guard,’ he cried. ‘No one threatens my customers.’

  Amalia spat at him. ‘Insect! You loathsome beasts; do you know who I am?’

  ‘No, and I don’t care,’ said the barman, wiping the spittle from his face. He nodded to the two men holding her. ‘Take her to the warden’s office; they can deal with her.’

  The two men pulled the former God-Queen to her feet, and dragged her out of the tavern as she struggled in their grip.

  The barman turned to Aila and Kelsey. ‘Sorry about that, ladies. Do you know that woman?’

  ‘We’ve never seen her before in our lives,’ said Aila. ‘She just walked over to our table and sat down.’

  ‘What a strange woman,’ said Kelsey. ‘And we were just minding our own business. She was probably drunk.’

  ‘I was starting to get a bit worried,’ said Aila. ‘Thanks for intervening.’

  The barman nodded. ‘Well, the meal and drinks are on the house, by way of an apology. A night in the town cells should sober her up.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Kelsey.

  ‘No problem,’ he said, then turned and walked back to the bar.

  Aila smiled.

  ‘I hope the town cells are within a hundred yards of here,’ said Kelsey, ‘otherwise the wardens are in for a bit of a shock.’

  ‘It’s a small town,’ said Aila; ‘we should be safe for the night.’

  ‘And tomorrow?’

  Aila sipped her ale. ‘Tomorrow, before the sun is up, we head south.’

  Chapter 7

  Going Nowhere

  K in Dai, Kinell, Eastern Khatanax – 2nd Luddinch 5252

  ‘We’re never going to find them, are we?’ said Corthie.

  Van glanced across the galley table at him. ‘We can’t give up.’

  ‘I’m not saying we should give up, only that it’s pointless. It’s simple – my sister’s powers are blocking Naxor’s searches.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sohul, ‘but she’ll be blocking the Ascendants as well.’

  Corthie shook his head. ‘We’re wasting our time.’

  ‘Then what should we do?’ said Van. ‘I’m open to suggestions.’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ said Corthie. ‘Everything is hopeless.’

  He reached for the bottle of spirits and filled his mug as the others glanced at him.

  ‘I fail to understand why you keep buying him alcohol,’ said Naxor.

  Van shrugged. ‘If I didn’t, then he’d only go into the city to drink there. This way, at least we can contain him.’

  ‘Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,’ said Corthie.

  ‘You know,’ said Van, ‘we’re not even certain that the Ascendants are still on Lostwell. They have the Sextant, yeah? If they were following their plan, then they might already have invaded the salve world. Naxor, could you check Alea Tanton from here? That might give us a better idea of what we’re dealing with.’

  ‘No,’ said the demigod; ‘it’s too far away for me to reach. Maybe we should follow Vana’s example, and get a boat. We could go back to Capston in the Southern Cape, and renew our search from there.’

  ‘It’s too risky,’ said Van. ‘All it would take is for one sailor to talk about seeing Corthie, and the authorities would be all over us.’

  ‘Then perhaps I should go alone?’ said Naxor.

  Corthie almost choked on the spirits. ‘Forget it. With everything you’ve done, what makes you think we’d trust you?’

  ‘Because, if I’m caught, the Ascendants would kill me. If there were any benefit in running away, I would have left with Vana, believe me.’

  ‘We’ll have to leave at some point,’ said Sohul. ‘We can’t stay in Kin Dai forever.’

  Van glanced at Corthie. ‘How’s your battle-vision?’

  Corthie thought for a moment. He had checked his powers that morning, as he always did, and it was true that they were stronger than at any time since leaving Yoneath. His health in other regards had also been slowly improving; he was sick less often, and sometimes an hour would go by without any stomach cramps. His appetite had also made fitful improvements, but he was still a shadow of his former self, mentally and physically.

  ‘A little better,’ he said at last, ‘but not enough.’

  ‘Then we stay,’ said Van. ‘We have no choice. Based on recent evidence, I now believe that Corthie is starting to recover, but we’ll need him at his best if we’re going to stand any chance.’

  Naxor frowned as he watched Corthie drain his mug. ‘That might take a while if he keeps drinking like that.’

  ‘You lost the right to criticise me when you tried to snatch Amalia’s Quadrant.’

  ‘I was trying to stop her fleeing.’

  ‘No, you weren’t,’ he said. ‘You were being the same old Naxor, looking out for yourself.’

  Naxor smirked. ‘You know, Amalia’s arm will have healed by now, and she’ll have realised that Aila is pregnant; her powers will sense it if she touches her. Don’t you think you should be doing everything in your power to get back to your old strength?’

  ‘He has a point,’ said Van.

  ‘There is no point,’ said Corthie. ‘Maybe, if he’d come even remotely close to finding them, but he hasn’t. And won’t.’

  Naxor stood. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  ‘But,’ said Sohul, ‘we called this little meeting to discuss…’

  ‘There’s clearly nothing to discuss,’ said the demigod as he strode for the steps leading to the deck. ‘Corthie’s given up.’

  The others watched him leave, then Sohul also got to his feet.

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ he said, and walked away.

  Van frowned, then poured himself a measure from the bottle.

  ‘You joining me in getting drunk tonight?’ said Corthie.

  ‘You have to sort yourself out,’ he said. ‘You’ve gone from the most optimistic and confident person I’ve met, to a…’

  Corthie glared at him. ‘To a what?’

  ‘To a whiny defeatist. The old you would slap the new you around the face.’

  ‘I’m just being realistic.’

  ‘No, you’re not; you’re being pathetic. I’ve held my tongue in front of the others, but I’m getting sick of it. Your sister and Aila are out there, somewhere. The old Corthie would never stop searching for them.’

  ‘Then the old Corthie was an idiot. We lost; don’t you understand? It’s over. The two hidden worlds are probably under attack, and Implacatus has won. The Ascendants are invincible.’

  Van shook his head. ‘How can you say that? I watched you fight two of them, and you nearly beat them on your own. Have you the slightest notion of what that means? No one’s got that close to defeating them in millennia, and what’s more – you have a second chance. If they knew you were alive, then they’d fear you.’

  Hope flickered in Corthie’s heart, then he refilled his mug and took another sip. Hope was what had got him killed; a blind hope in his own destiny. It was better to hope for nothing; in that way he would never be let down again. He found the thought liberating. If he stopped hoping for things, then maybe his worries would disappear as well. For all he knew, his world could be in smoking ruins, his family dead. Aila and Kelsey might be dead too. What did that leave him? Nothing.

  ‘I thought I could change things,’ he said, ‘but I was wrong. Sometimes, I wish Belinda had left me dead.’

  Van shook his head. ‘Do you think I’ve never been defeated? I’ve been involved in many wars, many battles; and we lost our fair share. The Banner of the Golden Fist taught us to treat each failure as an opportunity to learn from our mistakes. We’d analyse what went wrong, but rarely was any blame apportioned to individuals. They would criticise you for breaches of etiquette, or drunkenness, or an untidy appearance, but not for tactical errors. Corthie, you made a tactical error – you thought you could take on two Ascendants on your own. You were wrong. What does tha
t teach you? That you’re useless? That everything is hopeless? The real lesson is that, next time, you need support.’

  Corthie laughed. ‘You sound like Gadena.’

  ‘Good. I respect Gadena. It’s a pity you didn’t listen to him.’

  ‘I didn’t need to; I beat everyone he put up against me.’

  ‘That’s your problem right there; you’ve never experienced defeat. Kelsey used to talk about your mother, about how she was a ruthless, no-nonsense warrior; a war leader.’

  ‘Aye, that sounds about right.’

  ‘And how did she behave after a defeat? What would she say to you now?’

  Corthie considered for a moment, despite knowing the answer. ‘She would tell me to stop acting like a baby, but that’s how she deals with everything. She thinks sheer will power can overcome any odds. I watched her get her arse kicked by Asher, who was one of the gods who invaded our world with Belinda and Agatha. She was the one who killed my father.’

  ‘Did she give up after that?’

  ‘No. She started training again as soon as possible, and the next time she met Asher, she killed her. I didn’t see it, but Kelsey told me what happened.’

  ‘I wish Kelsey were here right now.’

  Corthie narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m sure you do.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant, though, yes; I do miss her. It’s just that I think Kelsey might be better than me at getting you out of this hole. I think you need another Holdfast to remind you who you are.’

  ‘And, who am I?’

  Van shrugged. ‘The greatest mortal warrior who has ever lived. You said so yourself.’

  ‘That was the old Corthie.’

  Van said nothing, and lit a cigarette.

  ‘Open a window,’ muttered Corthie, then he drained his mug, feeling the harsh spirits burn his throat. He went to refill his mug, then realised the bottle was empty. ‘Hey,’ he said; ‘where’s the other bottle?’

  ‘What other bottle?’ said Van. ‘That was it.’

  ‘You’re kidding me? I thought we had another bottle of… of whatever it is we’re drinking.’

  ‘It’s vodka, and no; we’re out.’

  ‘But I’m only getting started.’

  ‘Tough. Go to bed.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Fine; stay up.’

  ‘Get more vodka.’

  ‘I’m not your servant, Corthie.’

  ‘I’ll get some myself, then.’ Corthie stood, and glanced around for his boots.

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ said Van, eyeing him.

  ‘Why not? A walk would do me good. We’ve been in Kin Dai for ages; it’s time I saw some of it. All you need to do is point me in the right direction, and I’ll find somewhere selling booze.’

  ‘Sit down; you’re drunk.’

  ‘Aye, but not drunk enough. Nowhere near drunk enough.’ He spied his boots and pulled them out from under the chair where they had been, then sat on the bench and began to put them on.

  ‘Corthie, this is a joke, right? You know you can’t go wandering about Kin Dai. What if you’re recognised?’

  ‘Come on. No one’s going to have the faintest idea who I am. Maybe if I’d gone out when we first got here, when what happened was still fresh in people’s minds, but everyone thinks Corthie Holdfast is dead.’

  ‘All the same, you can’t jeopardise everything now.’

  Corthie glanced up from lacing his boots and laughed. ‘Jeopardise it? The Ascendants have the Sextant; what else could go wrong?’

  ‘Alright, you win,’ said Van. ‘I’ll go out and buy some.’

  ‘Too late. I’m in the mood for going out now. You should be pleased. I must be getting better, if I feel up to a night out.’

  ‘You can’t go.’

  ‘Are you going to try to stop me? Will you wake up Sohul, and ask him to help? You know how that will end; I’m more than a match for both of you, even though I’m still sick.’

  Corthie finished lacing up his boots and stood. ‘Coming?’

  Van stared at him. ‘Don’t walk out that door, Corthie.’

  He laughed, and strode for the entrance. Stomach cramps struck him as he moved, but they were mild in comparison to the ones he had been experiencing for so many days, and the vodka was helping to take the edge off them. He swayed a little, but kept going. Van cursed behind him, and he smiled as he reached the steps. The night sky was dark, and the stars were out. Corthie gazed up at them for a moment from the bottom of the stairs, then started to climb, breathing in the salty estuary air. Noises were coming from many of the other house boats berthed close by, and little lamps lit up their decks and filtered through the shutters of countless cabins. Corthie stepped onto the deck, and stretched his arms as if awakening.

  ‘You’re an asshole,’ said Van, coming up the steps next to him.

  ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ said Corthie.

  ‘It is. Now, come on; let’s go back downstairs.’

  ‘No, I’m going out and that’s that. I can compromise, though. If you come along, then we can go somewhere that you know. That way, I won’t be wandering around aimlessly looking for a drink. You can pick where we go. You must know a few places.’

  ‘I’ve been out with the guys from work after a few shifts, but I’m not sure I should take you somewhere I might be known.’

  ‘Tell them that I’m an old friend from a Banner.’

  ‘I haven’t told any of them that I used to be in a Banner. It might not be the most popular move in these parts. The government of Kinell might love Implacatus, but not many of the locals do.’

  Corthie started walking towards the pier. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’

  There was a narrow walkway connecting the river boat to the pier, and Corthie strode across it, his guts starting to churn. The alcohol in his brain was over-riding his anxiety, but he still felt it in the pit of his stomach. He reached the pier and turned for the long wharf, where the fish market was closed up for the night. At the end of the pier were stone steps cut into the side of the wharf, and he climbed them, then stood on the open street, the city of Kin Dai before him. He smiled. For forty days he had been stuck on the cramped boat, and he felt alive again. To the left, the harbour front was lit up with lanterns, and small alleyways stretched away from it, almost hidden between the high stone buildings. A noise was rising from that direction, a noise Corthie knew well. Taverns.

  Van joined him on the wharf, a deep frown creasing his face.

  ‘Left sounds promising,’ said Corthie.

  ‘There are a lot of sailors’ bars that way,’ said Van. ‘We need to be careful.’

  They walked along the wharf for several minutes, passing rows of house boats tied up at the long, spindly piers that jutted out into the waters of the wide estuary. A few people were out on their decks, enjoying the warm evening air, and Corthie’s height attracted a few glances. Van selected one of the many alleys leading off the wharf; it was narrow, and had garlands of flowers stretching between the high buildings on either side. At least a dozen taverns were open along the long stretch of the alley, and each seemed busy.

  ‘So, this is what I’ve been missing?’ said Corthie.

  ‘This is a bad idea,’ said Van. ‘One drink and then we go back?’

  Corthie laughed. ‘Not a chance.’

  Van led the way to a tavern. Its front door was open, and music was coming from the interior. They went inside, and a few heads turned to stare as they walked into the bar. Corthie glanced around. The place was half-full, and the patrons were clustered round small tables close to a low stage where a handful of musicians were playing. Van chose a table near the door, and they sat.

  ‘Say nothing,’ Van whispered, as a barmaid approached them.

  ‘What can I get you boys?’ she said, her eyes glancing at Corthie.

  ‘Ale,’ said Van.

  ‘And some of that vodka,’ said Corthie.

  ‘I’ll need the money up front,’ she said. ‘Sorr
y, boys, but you’re not regulars.’

  Van reached into a pocket and withdrew a leather pouch. He counted out some coins and handed them over.

  ‘Here’s twenty for now,’ he said. ‘Keep the ale coming.’

  The barmaid took the money, smiled and walked back to the bar.

  ‘What did I just tell you?’ he said to Corthie. ‘Your accent is out of place here.’

  ‘So’s yours.’

  ‘Yes, but I sound like I might be from Alea Tanton, whereas you?’

  ‘We could say I’m from Capston.’

  ‘That won’t work; this bar’s full of sailors who will have been down to the Southern Cape.’ His eyes darted around the tavern. ‘People are already starting to stare.’

  ‘Relax,’ said Corthie. ‘It’ll be fine.’

  The barmaid brought a tray over to their table and unloaded two large mugs of ale, and two small glasses of vodka.

  ‘Where are you boys from, then?’ she said.

  Van smiled. ‘We’re from a place called none-of-your-business.’

  The barmaid scowled and returned to the bar. Corthie picked up the mug of ale and took a long drink.

  ‘My sister,’ he said.

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Are you in love with her?’

  Van’s smile disappeared.

  ‘Well?’ said Corthie.

  ‘I get the feeling,’ Van said, ‘that you won’t be happy with whatever answer I give.’

  ‘Then just say the truth.’

  ‘The truth? I wish I knew. I think about her all the time, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.’

  ‘You think about her?’

  ‘Yeah, I do.’

  ‘But you don’t know if you love her?’

  ‘I have to be honest with you; she told me about… you know, her visions.’

  ‘Did she? I didn’t think she was going to.’

  ‘She laid it all out for me, about how she’d seen a vision of us together in the future. I guess she thought it would help explain her actions, but…’