“It’s your charge, Bowen,” Kytle said. “One or a hundred men, it needs to be taken care of. Else the council will be forced to reduce your rations as well.”
Bowen flushed red, his fists clenched at his side. “But I need more men. Ten at least. You haven’t seen the conditions down there. We’ve lost three men to the fumes alone.”
“You have Mendle and Riley, correct?”
Bowen nodded.
“Then there it is. Take care of the blockages or we’ll be forced to find someone who can. As for Nate and the other castouts, deal with them as you see fit. Perhaps block up the aquifer and see if you can’t drown them out.”
Bowen sat back down, mumbling curses to himself and the filthy men sitting beside him.
A sudden stir broke out on the far side of the room.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Kytle asked as a man staggered into the center of the hall.
“We’ve seven missing,” the man gasped. He was covered in sores and his clothes looked as if they were being held together by lice. “Missy Jan says Harry took his family and a wagon into the northern tunnel.”
Kytle stood. “The key? Did he take the key?”
The man nodded.
“The seeds!” someone cried. “How will we plant?”
The men sitting beside Haliden began tracing arcane signs in the air as they whispered prayers to themselves.
Haliden Turned to Willem. “What’s going on?”
“The missing man held the key to the city’s garna-barra chamber,” he replied. “All of our potatoes and corn seeds were kept there. As well as our salt.”
Evetner smiled. “Couldn’t have timed it better then.”
Haliden looked at the boy incredulously. “And how’s that?”
“We offer to search for them,” Evetner said. “If we find them alive, all the better. They’ll have supplies of their own and won’t slow us down.”
“That is not the way I’m leaving,” Willem said. He stood and raised his hand
Kytle slammed the gavel down. “Willem has the floor!”
The charger stepped into the center of the chamber, his hands trembling beneath his moth-eaten cloak. He took a deep breath and sighed.
“I’m afraid we have more trouble than we dare face,” he said as he scanned the audience. “Three turns we’ve been trapped here. No food from the outside. No help.”
Murmured agreements rippled throughout the room.
“We’ve been all but forgotten. But we’ve helped ourselves. We’ve saved ourselves.”
Some of the gathered applauded this.
“I feel there is no way the city can suffer the Breath, the Rot, and hunger all at once. We’ve exhausted wood supplies and there was little enough salt and seed in the chamber before the theft.”
Kytle shook his head. “Your observations are noted, Willem. But do you have a point?”
“It’s time to leave,” the charger said.
Indignant shouts erupted throughout the chamber.
Kytle clapped his gavel down. “Be silent, damn it!”
Willem thumbed nervously at something in his pocket. When the room quieted, he removed it and held it up in his palm.
“What have we there?” Kytle asked.
“A cogal ring. My cogal ring.”
The chamber suddenly fell silent.
Willem’s hand trembled as he held the ring out for everyone to see. “It was my charge to remain here. To see to it that the gates remained in place and the Rot contained.”
Kytle stood, his eyes wide with rage. “You traitorous bastard!”
“A bastard, yes. But I endured every hardship you have. I suffered loss just the same as the rest of you. And I did it all to protect Alimane.”
“You mean the Circle and Tritan, you son of a bitch!” someone cried.
A man lunged over a pew and tackled Willem to the floor. More soon followed, tearing and punching at the charger as cheers rang out behind them.
Haliden turned to Evetner, but the boy was already moving into the fight, jumping over toppled chairs and shouting.
With a sigh, Haliden followed him, grabbing a man and tossing him onto the floor. Fists pounded his back as he pushed closer to the charger, who lay curled in a fetal position before the mob.
Evetner picked up a wooden chair and slammed it into a man’s back. But when he drew back for another swing, an arm hooked around his neck and yanked him backward.
Haliden watched as the mob surged forward and surrounded Evetner. Haliden wanted to help, but he was too close to the charger to turn back now. Instead, he threw himself over Willem’s body, absorbing boots and fists as they rained down across his back.
Gasping, Evetner thrust his hip back and broke the stranger’s grasp. But when he turned, he froze in his tracks.
A girl stood before him, no more than ten or eleven turns old. Her eyes were sunken and lifeless, her face pale as milk.
She lunged forward, clawing at his face with her filthy nails.
Evetner sidestepped the clumsy attack and wrapped an arm around her neck.
“Stop!” he cried. But she continued to fight, scraping and punching his chest.
Haliden lay a few footfalls away, gasping as boots pounded his ribs. When he looked up, he saw Evetner standing above him with the girl in his arms.
“Leave them!” the boy cried as he pressed his dagger against the girl’s throat. “Or she’s dead!”
Kytle pushed through the crowd. “Stop! Get back! All of you!”
The beating ceased as the mob reluctantly obeyed.
“Let her be,!” Kytle pleaded. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing!”
Haliden rolled onto his back and groaned. His face was a bloody mess and his back felt as if it had been gouged with a knife.
Beside him, Willem lay unconscious, his swollen face smeared with blood and filth.
Evetner gestured to the charger. “He wronged you. There’s no denying that. But he is our only hope now.”
A man spit at his feet. “Over a hundred souls died these last three turns,” he shouted. “Withered away to dust while we ate leather and dog. And you expect us to stay justice?”
“Silence, Dren!” Kytle hissed. He turned back to Evetner. “She’s all I have left. Please… let her go and we’ll pardon the lot of you.”
Evetner backed up until he was flush against the wall. “That’s a kind but worthless gesture. If not you, the fire will claim us. But this man can bring down the gates. He can help us get to the Block.”
The man named Dren laughed. “The Block? They’ll sooner send arrows into our chests, than open their gates to anyone from Marigel.”
“We must try!” Evetner shouted as the girl growled and snapped at the air with her yellow teeth. “You have a venermin. We’ll take it there. All of us if you want.”
The man laughed. “Marigel has no venermin, boy.”
Kytle took a few steps closer. “Just let her go and we’ll talk, okay?”
Evetner pressed the blade harder against her skin. “Come any closer and I’ll take off an ear.”
Kytle halted. “So, what… you expect us to let him go? After all the misery we’ve endured?”
Willem stirred beside Haliden. “I’m sorry,” the charger slurred through broken and bloody teeth.
“Piss on you!” Kytle shouted.
Haliden crawled onto his feet, wincing as his chest exploded with pain. “He can help us,” he wheezed. “He can bring down the gates.”
Kytle shook his head. “And how does he plan to do that?”
“Meridium,” Haliden replied. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Nearly two ounces.”
Kytle laughed. “Two ounces? Bullshit.”
Willem rolled onto his stomach and moaned. “It’s true. There’s enough to open both gates.”
Someone laughed. “He dies, as will you and your friends, scag. We can care for ourselves.”
“It’s your choice,” Evetner said. “But the gates
stand without him.”
Kytle slowly approached Willem and knelt beside him. “You played the friend for almost seven turns. Watched as my Lucy withered away to nothing.” His voice quivered with anger. “And all the while you could have saved her. Saved everyone.” He shook his head. “But you chose duty instead. As I must now.” He stood and swept the audience with his eyes. “There’s no room for traitors here. Not now and especially in the days to come.” He took a long, hard look at Willem then spit in his face. “Crucify him atop the spire.”
Cheers erupted throughout the chamber. As the commotion reached a peak, someone grabbed Kytle’s daughter and pulled her from Evetner’s grasp. Evetner tried to take her back, but two men thrust him against the wall and ripped the dagger from his hand.
“As for the others,” Kytle said as his daughter embraced him. “Exile them to the Throat.
18
The two runners sat silent in the tower cell, listening as wind howled through the tiny window several footfalls above them.
In one corner, flies buzzed above a bucket of hardened shit. Opposite it, a pile of moldering hay clicked and popped with hungry fleas.
Haliden sighed. After everything we’ve been through…. to die here?
A hundred footfalls below, a handful of braziers and humble fires peppered the otherwise black cityscape. To the south, though, the sky glowed a deep crimson that grew brighter with every passing call.
Haliden swallowed. Even if they somehow escaped the city, how many days did they really have left? One? Maybe two at best? How far could they hope to get with two venermins and a cartload of refugees?
And what of the boys?
He wished he could see their faces. Kytle had promised they were being cared for, that they were safe with the other children of Marigel. But then he remembered the gutter filled with bones.
“We’ve failed,” Evetner said. The right side of his face was swollen and distorted and dried rivulets of blood spider webbed across his bruised cheeks and neck.
Haliden sighed. “Could we have ever really succeeded?”
Evetner turned to him, his eyes trembling with rage. “Would I have abandoned everything I cherish if I thought differently?”
A whinny echoed outside.
Haliden stood and gazed through the window. “Instar!” he cried.
The familiar whinny echoed in reply as a black form raced across the square’s weed choked cobbles.
“Here, girl! I’m here!” he shouted as several figures chased after her.
“What’s happening?” Evetner asked.
“Instar’s loose!”
Evetner laughed. “Your horse has good sense.”
A whip cracked in the distance, followed by more shouting. Haliden pounded the wall. “Leave her be, you bastards!”
Evetner shook his head. “You’re wasting your breath. They’ve mouths to feed and your strider will feed two families for a month. Maybe more.”
Haliden grasped the bars as Instar vanished down an alleyway. “I’ll fucking kill the man who lays a hand on her!”
The cell door burst open, scattering roaches and mice into the shadows as Kytle and two emaciated men entered, chains in hand.
“Bind them,” Kytle ordered.
One of the men grabbed Evetner’s shoulder, but the boy quickly lashed out and punched him in the nose.
Haliden tensed, fists clenched at his sides as the other man approached.
“Easy or hard?” the man asked him.
“What do you think?” Haliden replied.
For the next ten turns the guards beat Haliden and Evetner senseless. When it was over, they bound their hands behind their backs and pressed their faces onto the floor.
“Take them to the gate,” Kytle said. “But don’t send them off just yet. I want them to see that animal prepped for the feast.”
Haliden’s heart sank when they arrived in the main square. Instar stood bound to a stockade not far from a crackling fire. As she brayed nervously, men prepared tables with plates and cutlery.
“Give our boys here a seat at the grand table,” Kytle ordered.
Evetner kicked and spat as they forced them onto a bench and bound their legs to its cross section.
Men were erecting a spit over the fire a few footfalls away.
Kytle smiled as they worked. “You come here strangers, a beast and two children in tow, and think to slink off into the night without paying a toll?” He shook his head. “Do you know where you are?”
Haliden looked him in the eye. “Hell. This is Hell.”
“That’s right.” Kytle snapped his fingers. Moments later a man ran over with Evetner’s sword in hand.
Kytle took the blade and held it up to the light. “This is amazing craftsmanship,” he said. “Would be worth a fortune… if coinage held any value here.”
Evetner struggled against his chains, his bloodied face glistening like a devil mask in the firelight. “I’ll see that blade through your heart,” he snarled.
Kytle laughed. “And I might just consider that a favor. But not on an empty stomach.” He stood and clapped his hands. “Bring them forward. I want this done before sunrise!”
Two men approached from across the square with Jonathan and Brandon in tow.
Haliden felt his body go numb. The boys were chained and gagged, stumbling behind their captors.
“Leave them be!” he shouted.
The boys were forced onto their knees a few footfalls from the fire. A man then placed buckets before each of them.
Evetner howled like a madman, thrashing back and forth atop the bench. “I’ll kill you! Every last one of you fuckers!”
Kytle leaned across the table and slammed the hilt of his sword into Evetner’s face. “Just watch and wait your turn,” he said as Evetner spit a bloody tooth onto the ground.
Haliden felt the world closing in on him. Dozens of emaciated figures were approaching the fire, their ravenous eyes locking on Instar and the boys. This can’t be the end! he thought. Not here. Not like this.
“The gate!” a distant voice suddenly cried. “It’s open!”
There was a moment of silence followed by the clang of steel on steel.
Kytle tensed. “Get over there and see what’s happening—all of you!” he shouted. “Fren! Danol! Rally the watch!”
The gathered quickly scattered into the shadows, shouting orders to one another as they went.
When they were finally alone, Kytle grabbed Haliden by the throat and dragged him across the table. “Is this your doing?”
“Would that it were,” Haliden spat. “I would’ve tied you to a spit as well.”
Kytle nodded. “I think we’ll roast you first. Alive.” He stepped closer, smiling. But then there was a wet thump, like a hammer hitting a piece of meat, and he froze.
“Wha…” he gasped as he reached over his shoulder. When he brought his hand back, his eyes widened. It was covered in blood.
Haliden watched as the man slowly turned around. But before he could say another word, an arrow slammed into his forehead, toppling him back into the fire.
Sparks erupted into the sky as Evetner’s sword hit the ground with a metallic clatter.
“Artist!” a voice hissed.
A shadow was running at him, bow in hand.
“Brendle!”
The old drunk entered the firelight and knelt down behind him. “Don’t move,” he said. He withdrew a knife and cut Haliden’s bonds.
“What’s happening?” Evetner asked. “Where is the charger?”
Brendle cut Evetner loose and then moved on to the boys. “Just pick up your blade and be ready to run. It won’t be long before they come back.”
“What’s happening at the gate?” Haliden asked.
“Don’t you worry about that. Just get that horse of yours ready. I’ve your wagon all set at Willem’s place.”
Evetner shook off his bonds and knelt down beside the boys. “We’re leaving now,” he told them. “Stay by m
e and keep quiet.”
“What about Willem?” Haliden asked.
“The Flooded Cell Block… near Dagmar’s Throat,” Brendle replied. “But we won’t be able to get to him without more men. Kytle put at least five to him before they came here.”
“Where are we going?” Jonathan asked.
Haliden untied Instar. “Anywhere but here.”
The Flooded Cell Block had earned its moniker well. A squat, gray building, it sat in the center of a flooded street. Like a lover’s embrace, the putrid water hooked around the building’s sole entrance, submerging its single, steel door knee deep in brown muck.
Haliden shifted uncomfortably beside the others as they crouched behind a crumbling rock wall. “Where are the guards?” he whispered.
Brendle crouched beside him. His once glassy eyes were now focused and sober as he scanned the shadows. “Busy fighting… inside waiting. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let’s just fucking get him,” Evetner said. “We won’t get another chance like this.” He stood and broke from cover. “Come on!”
Haliden turned to Brendle. “Stay here with them. We’ll be right back.”
“But you’ll need another blade in there,” the old guard protested.
“The two of them need you more than we do,” Haliden said. “We’ll be fine.”
Jonathan hesitantly nodded as Brandon whimpered beside him.
The door to the cells was wrought of solid steel with a single rusted handle.
Evetner took hold of it and pulled.
“Be careful,” Haliden whispered.
There was a dull groan as the door swung open on its rusted hinges. When the din faded, both men peered into the entrance.
A single torch flickered against the wall, illuminating a small chamber flooded with rippling sewage.
“Keep quiet,” Evetner whispered as he stepped inside.
They entered a narrow corridor, stumbling and sloshing through the foulest stench Haliden had ever known.
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