‘Nothing. It’s certainly not on display anywhere. There wasn’t much to look at to be honest. I’m fairly sure it’s not there.’
‘Well, we tried.’
‘Still,’ said Moneva, ‘it wasn’t a completely wasted trip.’
‘How’s that?’
Grinning, she pulled Gyrmund in, and they kissed, the passion of it taking her by surprise. At that moment, she didn’t care very much about finding a stupid bow.
Siavash walked down the dimly lit corridor until he found the cell with the prisoner he wanted.
‘This one,’ he said.
The guard stepped forward and unlocked the door.
‘Leave.’
‘Yes, lord.’
Siavash entered the cell. He allowed himself a bitter smile. This was where he had kept Soren imprisoned, who had dared to challenge him, in the Throne Room of all places. He and Soren had unfinished business. But then, he conceded, without the Magnian’s insurrection, Erkindrix would still be the Lord of Ishari and he would merely be a member of his Council. That way of looking at it meant that he owed Soren a favour. He would enjoy deciding what to do with him when he was caught and returned here.
He glanced briefly at the Haskan prisoner. He was unharmed, as Diis had commanded. The man, on his knees in chains, looked terrified. As well he might, Siavash allowed, though what exactly was going to happen here he didn’t know. It was time to find out.
He called to Diis. Diis, who had chosen him above Arioc, above all the others. He would prove to his lord that He made the right choice.
Diis emerged, His face inside Siavash’s face, His body inside his body. It took all of Siavash’s strength to keep Him contained there, for he was a God, who should not be constrained to live inside a mortal’s body. He would not need to for much longer. It made Siavash wonder about the hundreds of years during which Erkindrix had been a vessel for Diis, and he found he gained a new respect for his predecessor.
Diis looked about the cell, coal black eyes finding his bearings. The prisoner whimpered and began rehearsing a prayer. But he prayed to some other god and Siavash knew that wouldn’t help him.
What news do you have, demanded Diis, speaking inside Siavash’s mind, not so very different to when Siavash spoke to Soren in this room.
We have completed the reconquest of Haskany and re-established control over Persala, Siavash informed him. My reforms to the army are complete and each host is ready to be given their orders.
He had defeated both Arioc and Pentas to secure complete control over the Isharites, the Drobax, and their dependent states. But he almost felt more pride in his reforms, that gave him greater personal control over the army than Erkindrix had ever had. Betrayals like those of Arioc and Pentas would now be a thing of the past.
But Arioc and Pentas are still at large, Diis bellowed in anger from somewhere inside him.
He whimpered, the prisoner staring at him in horror.
You are right, Siavash admitted. With all my foolish pride I have hidden those grave failings from myself.
For each failing you owe me a sacrifice, Siavash. You are stronger than Erkindrix was, and you can endure the punishment.
Yes, Siavash agreed. He would willingly make such a sacrifice.
Erkindrix and the Council made a great mistake. They underestimated the Krykkers and the Kalinthians. This allowed my enemy to use her weapons against me. We cannot afford further mistakes. Soon I will help you to open a portal to my birth world and together we will bring forth a creature that will help us to destroy the Krykkers. When I am in full control of this world I will have the power to bring many such creatures here. But for now, one will suffice.
Siavash couldn’t help but exult at the prospect. The destruction of the Krykker race would remove the last great obstacle to a complete conquest of Dalriya.
Now, I will take your first sacrifice.
Without warning, Siavash felt a horrendous, tearing pain engulf him. It was more than a physical pain. He could feel Diis, his claws sharper than diatine crystal, ripping at his very soul. He tried to withstand the pain, tried to maintain consciousness.
Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something that had been hiding, almost fully obscured in the dark prison cell. He saw his shadow move without him, and with a last agonising tear Diis completely severed it. Siavash turned in shocked disbelief, to see his shadow slide around the wall of the room, free of him, moving of its own volition.
Your shadow, said Diis. It can now do your bidding, allow you to move around Dalriya while your body stays here, safe from harm.
Siavash was speechless. This was a thing of nightmares, a void of colour moving about the cell. And yet, when he concentrated on it with only a fraction of his powers, he saw that he could indeed move it. Control it.
But a shadow is useless without a body to inhabit.
Siavash understood. He drew his knife, strode over to the prisoner and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head up.
Not the neck, said Diis.
Siavash did as commanded, plunging the blade with all his force into the middle of the prisoner’s chest. The prisoner’s scream was cut off when he withdrew the blade and he sagged down, unconscious. Blood started to pour from the injury.
It is better to make the injury somewhere it can be hidden, Diis explained.
Siavash began to appreciate the possibilities. If his shadow was able to control the corpses of his victims, it could pass unnoticed, hidden in plain sight.
He concentrated on his shadow. It approached the prisoner and he forced it to enter, to reattach itself to a body, but this time a different one.
The prisoner’s head jerked up.
‘Release me from the chains,’ hissed his shadow in a Haskan accent.
Siavash stared in shock. It appeared that the Haskan soldier had returned to life in front of him, speaking again with his own voice. But he knew it to be nothing more than a reanimated corpse.
You will go to Kalinth, Diis commanded.
11
Halvia
RABIGAR STOOD ON THE WHARF, watching the tall ships of the Sea Caladri out on the shimmering turquoise of the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, one he didn’t think he would ever see. But then, he hadn’t expected to ever be back home amongst the Krykkers, and here he was.
One of the ships had furled its sails and was now heading in their direction. As it came nearer he could see the oars on both sides rising up and down, propelling it towards them. Red eyes painted onto the sides of the ship glared at them, as if she was a sea serpent come to lay havoc to the coastline.
They waited as the ship was manoeuvred into position. With Rabigar were two chieftains: Maragin of clan Grendal, and Hakonin of clan Swarten. They were going to cross the Lantinen Sea to visit with their cousins, the Krykkers of Halvia. There had been no contact with them for a year, not since the Kharovians had defeated the Vismarian fleet and established an iron grip on the Lantinen. The pirates of Kharovia would not be pleased to see Caladri warships in what they had declared to be their waters.
But they were going to Halvia for a specific purpose, too. Szabolcs, the wise man of the Shadow Caladri, had identified Halvia as the location of the Giants’ Spear, one of the missing weapons of Madria. The Giants, everyone seemed to agree, were long gone. The Krykkers of Halvia, therefore, were the first step in tracing the Spear’s resting place.
If Maragin and Hakonin were going as representatives of the clans of Dalriya, then Rabigar was going as the holder of another of Madria’s weapons, Bolivar’s Sword. He touched the hilt of the weapon, scabbarded at his side. His ownership of the sword wasn’t a popular choice amongst the Krykkers. No, it was downright unpopular. But he enjoyed a rather unique position amongst the Krykkers now—he was clan-less, exiled from the Grendals for killing Maragin’s father, and never formally brought into a new one. Should any other Krykker claim the blade, they would be opposed by all the other clans, demanding to know why it wasn’t going t
o them. No alternative claimant had come forward, and the longer it went on, the more secure Rabigar was. He had made it perfectly plain that he would not give up Bolivar’s Sword. Not to anyone. And it would be a brave Krykker who dared take him on.
The Caladri ship was tied off and the plank came down. Rabigar put one foot onto the wooden board. It flexed worryingly. He hated water and ships, didn’t know many Krykkers who didn’t. But it wasn’t going to stop him. He took a breath and marched purposely up the plank. He grabbed an offered hand when he reached the top and found himself stepping onto the deck.
He was surprised to see a familiar face amongst the crew.
‘Farred?’
It was Gyrmund’s friend—he had met him in Coldeberg. Quite what a Magnian was doing on a Caladri ship he didn’t know.
‘Hello Rabigar, good to see you again. This is the captain of the Red Serpent, Sebo.’
Rabigar and Sebo shook hands. He then introduced Maragin and Hakonin, who had made their way on board.
‘Welcome aboard all of you. It is an honour to have three Krykker lords sailing on my pride and joy, Red Serpent. Any questions or requests, please don’t hesitate to ask. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to get her going, then I will come and speak with you some more.’
There followed an unpleasant lurching sensation as the ship cast off and the oars began to pull it away from the wharf.
‘Well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Farred,’ Rabigar said. He pointed at the Krykker countryside they were leaving. ‘Don’t know the last time a human was allowed to see this view. Clan Swarten’s lands are something of a secret, eh Hakonin?’
‘That’s right,’ said Hakonin. ‘It suits us for others to think of all the Krykker lands as impregnable mountains. But my people’s lands are the exception. Flat, and good for crops. We’re called the breadbasket of the Krykkers. We used to trade with the Halvian Krykkers when the Vismarians controlled the sea. Now you know our secret, I’ll have to kill you,’ he smiled.
Farred laughed. ‘Well, maybe you’ll spare me if I exchange a secret?’
‘Go on,’ said Maragin. ‘You have us intrigued now.’
‘Well,’ said Farred, looking more serious. ‘I sailed with Sebo all the way from Mizky. He showed me the charts he used. Two of them have the same people marked at the same place, in the South Lantinen. The Asrai.’
Rabigar looked at Maragin and Hakonin. The two most obscure weapons mentioned by Szabolcs, the Spear and the Cloak. They were closer to finding them both.
Red Serpent joined up with the full Caladri fleet and they made a course for Halvia. The Sea Caladri weren’t taking any risks and they were right not to. Captain Sebo pointed out to the starboard side and Rabigar could just make out dark smudges on the horizon, in the direction of the island of Alta.
‘They’ve seen us,’ said Sebo calmly. ‘They’re following, at a safe distance.’
‘Will you try to intercept them?’ Rabigar asked.
‘No. Our orders are clear on that. We have authority to defend ourselves, but we are not to seek out conflict. If they are merely watching, we will let them.’
‘And what if the Kharovians are bringing all their ships to destroy you?’
‘Then we will be ready for them.’
The Caladri ships cut through the waters of the Lantinen, pulled along by the powerful oars. The oarsmen worked in shifts, allowing small groups to rest and regain their strength. Farred took a turn on the oars, leaving the Krykkers to watch the coastline of Dalriya gradually disappear, before Sebo called their attention to the bow, where the Halvian coast was coming into view.
Hakonin joined Sebo, using the maps in his clan’s possession to help find a port for the fleet. The coastline was rocky, as Krykker lands should be. But it meant that it was dangerous for such large ships to get close to shore, which they had to in order to identify the landmarks that would take them in the right direction.
Eventually, and with a minimum of fuss, Red Serpent led the Caladri fleet to an inlet. They sailed down the channel, steep cliffs on either side, before it opened into a wide bay. Here the waters were still, and while there were jagged rocks they needed to avoid, a large section of the bay was salt marsh that was safe enough to beach the fleet.
It took a while for all the ships to execute the manoeuvre, by which time a group of armed Krykkers had arrived, forming up on higher land that overlooked the marsh. What they made of a Caladri war fleet appearing in their bay, no-one could know for sure. Rabigar and his two companions walked off to meet them, keen to explain their appearance before the Halvian Krykkers decided that they were hostile.
As they approached they saw that a good two hundred Krykkers were arrayed in battle formation, fully armed. It was a relief, then, when Hakonin declared that he recognised the leader of the force as a clan chief.
‘Crombec!’ he shouted. ‘I am Hakonin of clan Swarten, come from Dalriya. You knew my father well and you know me.’
One of the Halvians took a step forwards from the front line. He ripped off his helmet, releasing a bush of grey hair, and squinted down at them.
‘This is Maragin and Rabigar of clan Grendal,’ Hakonin added into the silence.
‘That’s all very well,’ Crombec shouted back at them, before gesturing down to the shoreline. ‘But who the fuck are they?’
With a bit of work, Crombec was persuaded to stand down his troops, and instead lead the three Krykkers up into the mountains of his homeland. The Sea Caladri decided that they could not stay in the bay, explaining that it left them too vulnerable to a Kharovian attack, who would be able to seal the inlet and trap them inside. They would sail back to Hakonin’s lands in Dalriya and return to Halvia in five days’ time.
As they walked with the Halvian Krykkers, Rabigar and Maragin relayed to Crombec the recent events in Dalriya, and the significance of finding the seven weapons of Madria. When he learned that Rabigar was carrying Bolivar’s Sword he insisted on handling the weapon, eyes sparkling with joy as he gripped the hilt and squinted at the magnificence of the blade. Rabigar felt a flush of anger, a desperate desire to take the sword back, but he controlled himself, and Crombec reluctantly returned it to his keeping.
Not so very high up they came to Crombec’s hall. It was well positioned to get a view of the sea and Rabigar deciphered that coastal defence was the key role of his clan, the Pecinegs.
‘I will call a Great Moot of the clans,’ he told the three Krykkers. ‘That is most likely to unearth any knowledge we may have of the whereabouts of the Giants’ Spear. Our legends say that the Giants lived in the far west of Halvia. But that is too vague a starting point for an expedition, if that is your intention. It will also give us the chance to tell you what has been happening in Halvia in the past year. You may not be surprised to learn that we are facing problems of our own.’
Rabigar, Maragin and Hakonin travelled with the Pecinegs to the site of the Halvian Great Moot. Unlike the Great Meeting Chamber of the Dalriyan Krykkers, an underground cavern carved into the mountain Kerejus, Crombec led them to an open-air building. It was circular, surrounded by high stone walls. The walls contained three arched entrances, one for each of the Halvian clans.
Clan Chief Crombec led the Pecinegs through their entrance. Steps led them up to a seating area that belonged to their clan. Crombec sat Rabigar and the others on the front row with him, while the rest of his Krykkers took their places on the tiered rows behind. In front of them was a platform, raised above ground level, where a speaker could address all of the clans at once.
As the Pecinegs took their seats, a second clan began filtering into the building. Crombec identified them as the Vamorins. He explained that they manned the Western Walls, a series of towers that marked the Krykker border with the untamed, western half of Halvia.
They waited until the third and final clan arrived. Finally, the thud of boots on steps could be heard and the Binideqs appeared. Rabigar stared at this third group. There was so
mething wrong.
‘Humans!’ Maragin hissed.
Mingling with the Binideq clan were human men and women. They took up a good third of the seats, between the Binideqs and the Vamorins.
‘They are Vismarians,’ Crombec explained. ‘Refugees. Some of them have lived in our lands for two years now. We have given them a voice at the Moot.’
Rabigar shared a glance with Maragin and Hakonin. Such a thing would be unthinkable in Dalriya. It was a reminder that they were not in Dalriya anymore, and that the Halvian Krykkers, for all their shared ancestry, had led different lives since they had been separated by the Lantinen Sea.
Once everyone was ready, Crombec took the floor. He explained to the Moot why he had called it, introducing Rabigar and the others. Rabigar went next, explaining in more detail the events in Dalriya so that the Halvian Krykkers could understand why the search for the Giants’ Spear was so important. He proudly held aloft Bolivar’s Sword, letting the Halvian Krykkers see the weapon they had only heard stories about. He gave way to Wracken, chief of the Binideqs.
‘Our guests have brought us news from Dalriya, which we were ignorant of, and for that we give them thanks. Now they must know about events here in Halvia before we can proceed. They should know that the Drobax have become a mighty force on this continent, ferried across the Lantinen in huge numbers by the Kharovians. The Drobax have run amok in the north of Halvia, relentlessly attacking Vismarian settlements. This has been a war of destruction, with the massacring of whole communities. While the Krykkers have fought with our allies, it has not been enough to stop it. The majority of Vismarians now live here in our lands, contributing to our society with their skills. Those that remain beyond the River Drang are those that have found shelter in the most remote and hidden locations. The West of Halvia is a largely wild and unknown land. It is the Vismarians who have explored the western reaches in the past. They are the ones who will know the most about the Giants, if they are willing to share this knowledge with us. I therefore invite Sevald of the Vismarians to speak.’
The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set Page 83
