by Alex Janaway
‘Hard to believe, I know. But there is a real sense of purpose about New Tissan. Everyone is working towards a common goal. There are more buildings; many of the families have a wooden roof over their heads. The Admiral has his shipwrights and carpenters working night and day.’
‘I would like to see that,’ said Father Michael. They had been away for so long, at least four months, and yet it would seem things were moving quickly everywhere but here.
‘Oh, my apologies, the Arch Cardinal sent this for you,’ said Cardan, reaching into a leather satchel by his side. He produced a small, folded piece of paper that he passed over.
Father Michael nodded his thanks.
‘It has been a good few years since I had to do messenger duty,’ said Cadarn. ‘Not that I ever had to fly so far in one mission.’
‘Are the waystations in place now?’
‘Yes, that was part of the reason I made this journey. I wanted to inspect them myself, make sure my Riders are in good order. Speaking of which, is Bryce about?’
‘I saw him leave a couple of hours ago. He was escorting the hunting party.’
‘Right. That probably means he’s found a spot to lay low and sleep,’ said Cadarn. ‘I imagine they will not be back for some time yet. So, if you’ll excuse me, Father, I might close my eyes until they return.’
‘Of course.’
Father Michael waited until Cadarn had settled down under the lean-to shelter he had built next to where his eagle lay. He looked for Bron and saw him a little way off working on a haunch of meat. Beyond that, the Nidhal camp lay sprawled out to the west, a mess of hide tents and canopies that reminded him of their own first few weeks after arriving in this land. Yet the Nidhal had been here for centuries and had not appeared to make any attempt at a permanent settlement – they were more like the Erebeshi in that regard. Always on the move. He looked at the paper in his hand and broke the small wax seal, unfolding the single sheet to find the words that were indeed written in the familiar script of his mentor.
Father Michael, I hope my words find you well. It has been many months since we saw each other and yet so much has changed for all of us. Winter has given way to Spring and New Tissan grows thanks to the grace of our Emperor and Living God. Our people all miss Him terribly but the good works He has done in forging our new alliance have filled all of us with hope for the future. And did I not say that it would be so? Who could have imagined that in such a short space of time we would have seen such a change in our fortunes? The Council, under the Emperor’s edict, has bid the Admiral to focus on a ship-building endeavour that will see our fleet double in size by the end of the year – which, I am informed, would be more than sufficient to transport all of us back home if we so desired. Though, as the Emperor has intimated, we will need as much space again if we are to realise his vision.
And what of these Nidhal? We have yet to see one and only have the briefest of descriptions to go by – they sound brutish. I would welcome your thoughts on our new friends. Naturally, that the Emperor has chosen to befriend them is evidence enough of their value and trustworthiness, yet having been so recently betrayed by the other races, it would be rash of us to relax our vigilance. I take comfort in your presence by His side, Father Michael – I am sure you have become a voice of solid counsel. Rest assured that I continue our good work, here in New Tissan. In the months since you have gone, the Church has made great strides in returning the authority of rule to the Emperor’s most devoted.
Remember, Michael, you must be the Emperor’s strong right arm. Guide Him and protect Him, then return Him home to us.
Vella
Father Michael held the letter before him and folded it gently. He had not struggled greatly with the words, and had even noticed he no longer mouthed them as he read. He felt a warm glow inside. It was good to know that the Arch Cardinal still trusted in him and encouraged him to continue in his task to guard the Emperor. And though Vella was not explicit, it was clear to Father Michael that the purge of the old ruling class from the Council was continuing. He wondered how it was being done, if the Arch Cardinal had other devotees who would act like Father Michael had. He felt a flicker of emotion, a sour taste in his mouth. He shook his head. When he had choked the life from Baron Ernst he had done so willingly, in the name of his Blessed Emperor, yet thinking back on it, Father Michael had come to realise that each time he took a life something became … detached from his soul. He dismissed the thought. There was no room for doubts, no matter how insistent. All that mattered was that he served the Emperor with whatever tools he had at his disposal, and those tools were obvious. I am a killer. It is what I do.
CHAPTER FOUR – CADE
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’
‘What is it?’
‘Look at this shit.’
Cade walked over the rock pile that had been deposited outside the mine entrance and joined Anyon, who was pointing at the pile with one hand and scratching his balding pate with the other. Cade stood next to him and folded her arms.
‘Yeah?’ she asked.
Anyon looked at her askance. ‘C’mon Cade, what are we supposed to do with this?’
Cade turned from the entrance and scanned the canyon, flanked on all sides by steep mountain slopes, and full of Tissans labouring in the summer heat. ‘Hey, Devlin!’ Cade shouted.
Devlin stood by a cart that was facing away from the mine entrance. He glanced around, acknowledged Cade’s hail with a wave, and handed over a manifest sheet to Miriam, who held station on the driver’s bench of the cart. He then approached Anyon and Cade, his thumbs tucked into the rope tied around his waist, and leaned forward to inspect the rocks, his shaggy, greying hair falling forwards. He stood back upright, swept his unruly locks behind his ears, and looked at them both.
‘So?’ he asked.
‘Anyon wants to know what to do with this,’ Cade said.
Devlin shrugged, matter of fact. ‘What do we normally do.’
‘Oh come on, really?’ responded Anyon.
‘You heard the man,’ said Cade.
‘But there ain’t nothing in that!’ protested Anyon.
‘Since when have you become the expert?’ asked Devlin.
‘Since about a year ago when we started humping this stuff up,’ stated Anyon, heatedly.
‘And in all that time has anyone ever listened to you?’ asked Devlin.
‘Well, no but that’s–’
‘That’s because if you pulled this whiney shit with the dwarves you would have had your balls cut off.’
Anyon’s face went red, and his lips pursed.
‘I think that means you break these up just like you have every other bloody rock you’ve broken up since you got the job,’ said Cade.
‘Right, fine,’ muttered Anyon, and picked up a sledgehammer.
Cade met Devlin’s eyes and flashed him a grin. He tilted his head indicating they should talk. They moved off to the sound of metal on rock merging with the other sounds of labour echoing off the canyon walls.
‘Everything alright?’ asked Cade.
‘Yeah, reckon. Just checked the output numbers. Three more carts and we’ll have met the target for today.’
‘Good. I guess we can ease back.’
Devlin nodded, but raised his eyebrows and looked towards the pair of dwarf guards standing at the entrance to the mine shaft.
‘But not too much, ay?’
Cade waved a hand.
‘Those two? They couldn’t give a rat’s ass. They’re the laziest of the bunch, they don’t even look for a reason to beat us down anymore.’
‘Suppose so,’ admitted Devlin. He was quiet a moment. ‘I haven’t seen Geir today.’
‘Uh-huh.’
He was the one they had to watch; the Accounter was fine if the work was regular and productive, but anyone he caught slacking they would all be in for it.
‘We see him less and less now. Guess the boss has got him doing other stuff,’ she suggested.
‘He can’t complain we haven’t got things running tight.’
‘Hells no. Vidar knows when he’s on to a good thing,’ agreed Cade. For the last three months Cade had been schmoozing the bastard so hard that he now trusted Cade and her crew to run the whole show. And that meant less oversight, fewer guards, fewer beatings and less chance of being gutted for backchat. After all, she knew what strings needed pulling on their dwarf master. He was a greedy son of a bitch, and if she could promise him better output at reduced cost, she had him right where she wanted him.
‘Speaking of which, you wanna hop on the cart with Miriam?’ asked Devlin. ‘He’ll be wanting his update.’
Cade ran her hand through the mop of hair gathered up on top of her head and scratched her pate.
‘Suppose. I’ll see you back at the homestead,’ she said.
Devlin clapped her on the back and strolled away.
Cade turned and spat. She wiped her face and looked at the ordered industry going on around her. Things had gotten better of late. There were certainly worse jobs, and her crew were getting the best of the work. She walked over to the cart and climbed aboard, nodding to the driver, Miriam, who nodded back. Miriam clicked her tongue and the pair of draft horses strained a little before the momentum built and the heavily laden cart started to move at a gentle pace, following the track around the draw and through the crowding slopes on either side. As they travelled, other routes opened up leading to different mines and workings. Most, Cade knew, were owned by different dwarf concerns. Ahead of them two more carts were making their way onwards, heading roughly north and west. A few more minutes and the track, now well-worn and rutted from the constant traffic, opened up on to a wide plateau where a number of warehouses, smelters, workshops and stables were scattered and grouped, each one its own separate enterprise. Cade’s cart cut left and headed towards a larger grouping of buildings on the edge of the plateau. From there they could see down the slope where a route led into a wooded river valley which swept north.
Around them a number of dwarves went about their business, many grimy from a day working in heat, others armed as guards, and a few who wore finer, cleaner clothes, and carried ledgers. Since getting permission to use her people to drive the wagons, Cade had been paying close attention to how the plateau functioned. Most of the mine owners employed fellow dwarves to do their work, at least up here, away from the mines. But she had seen at least two other mining outfits using carts manned by humans, though both also carried dwarf guards. It made her wonder just how many other human work crews were in these mountains.
They arrived at the warehouse, and were met by more of Cade’s crew emerging from its cavernous, shaded interior.
‘Afternoon, Cade,’ said Evan. The lad had filled out some in the last few months and was looking the better for it.
‘Evan,’ she acknowledged.
He beamed up at her with something akin to hero worship. She was damned uncomfortable about that, she didn’t want anyone worshipping her. Respect and obedience would do just fine. Behind him came Meghan, who smiled at her warmly but with a different look in her eye. Cade knew what that was too, and it was just as strange – no one had actually loved her before, she wasn’t even sure what that felt like. But, well, she could live with that, it certainly had its benefits. She pushed herself off the cart and made her way inside as the others started to unload the unrefined ore to be stored until it was taken to the smelter, then she headed towards a set of stairs leading up to a balcony that led to the office overlooking the warehouse interior. She nodded to the two guards at the bottom of the stairs. One stepped back with a crossbow aimed point blank at her while the other stepped forward. She knew the drill and raised her arms high. The dwarf ran his hands down her sides and around her back. She then lowered her arms and opened her hands. He nodded and gestured to the stairs, and in return she gave him a beaming smile. He snarled at her and growled something out in dwarvish. She stepped past him and walked up the stairs.
She shook her head. Did he just call me a whore? She was pretty sure he had, her dwarvish was getting better and she was specialising in swear words. She reached the balcony and stopped a moment to look down on her people bringing in the rocks and sorting them into rough piles. She went and knocked at the door.
‘Enter,’ came the gruff reply.
Cade turned the handle and stepped through, having to lower her head somewhat. Before her sat the boss, Vidar, his head bowed over a ledger as usual. He did not look up and she knew better than to speak first, so she closed the door and waited.
‘Well?’ he asked, after a moment, still not looking up.
‘All good, boss.’
Vidar looked up and fixed her with his best icy glare. Four months ago that would have meant a swift and savage beating.
‘And what does that mean?’
‘It means today’s target will be met, as promised.’
‘As expected.’
‘Yes. That too.’
‘And what about the smelting crew?’
‘We’ve got four working on that, each with two apprentices. Give me another couple of weeks and I reckon you can stop using your people completely.’
Vidar tapped a finger on the desk.
‘No. I’ll keep my own working on the precious ores.’
‘As you say, boss. Can’t see why you’d be concerned about theft. What are we going to spend it on?’
‘A thief ’s a thief. You can’t help yourself,’ he said dismissively and stood up. She clocked the dagger he always carried. He walked over to the window that looked out into the warehouse.
‘It hasn’t escaped my notice that I now have you humans working in every aspect of my operation out there.’
‘I like to provide a good ser–’
‘Nor has it escaped the notice of many of my colleagues up here on the plateau,’ he said, shooting another sharp glance her way. ‘And some are questioning the wisdom of it. They say that I am being a fool. Some say that I am too soft, others that I am taking work away from my own kind. One even had the audacity to say I was being disloyal and questioned my patriotism!’ He placed the sheathed dagger on the table, then after a pause, withdrew the blade and inspected it. ‘The one thing I hear the most is that I need to crack down, to keep you in your place. To remind you that your lives belong to me. They say I need to make an example.’
He turned and looked towards her, the dagger held horizontally, ready to thrust. Cade swallowed. Oh, this can’t be good. She raised a warding hand and took a step back.
‘Now see–’ Cade began to protest.
He barked a harsh laugh over words.
‘Is my example made?’ He replaced his dagger. ‘They are fools. All of them. They forget what our business, what my business, is.’ He turned his back and returned to his desk.
Cade briefly closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Steady girl, remember the world you live in.
Vidar sat down and placed a hand on his ledger.
‘Using your kind in the mines and taking on work here will reduce my costs. You get injured, it costs me nothing; you die it costs me nothing.’ Vidar shrugged. ‘I make more money by using you and when you are used up, then I’ll go back to employing dwarves again.’
Cade bowed. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘You know there are other mines using humans out there?’ he asked tilting his head to the window.
‘I noticed some,’ she said.
‘Of course you did. I know that about you, Cade. Always keeping an eye open.’
To Cade the warning was clear. And you think you are on to me, do you? You haven’t a clue, you short-arsed bastard.
‘I’ve got plans to expand here. There are some here who have rather more business vision than those who question my methods. You’ve got a smart mind. You’ve put it to work staying alive, winning your folk some concessions off me. Well done. You want to keep them?’
‘I’m guessing that’s not a trick question,’ Cade muttere
d.
‘There will be more demand for your kind up on the plateau soon. I’ll need you to keep them in line. Organise them, train them as needs be. You do that right and your life won’t end so soon or so dismally.’
‘Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,’ replied Cade, wryly.
‘No, you can’t.’ Vidar returned to his ledger. ‘Get out.’
Cade resisted the urge to curtsey and opted for a tug of the forelock.
She backed out of his office, closed the door and walked down the stairs ignoring the two guards at the bottom. She left the warehouse and took her spot back on the cart.
‘Almost done,’ said Miriam, climbing up next to her. ‘Everything alright?’
‘Hmm,’ Cade looked over. ‘What? Oh yes, the boss is really pleased with us. Gonna give us a day off.’
‘Really?’ asked Miriam brightly.
‘No, you daft cow.’
‘Oh,’ Miriam responded, her eyes downcast.
Cade shook her head. Not the sharpest tool, Miriam. But truth was, things were happening, change was happening. Life was going in her direction and she was still proving useful. More humans in other mines, all needing her to give them direction. Now that was something she was looking forward to.
Cade barely noticed the jolting of the cart on the journey back, or the chatter of her crew, returning with them for the end of day’s Accounting. Her mind was mulling was over the latest development in her fortunes; success was proving to be a real ball-ache. As she clambered off the cart, Meghan walked over and touched her shoulder.
‘You alright, Cade?’
As always, Meghan was sharp enough to have picked up on Cade’s mood, but she wasn’t prepared to share just yet. ‘Yeah, just thinking some things through,’ Cade replied.
They joined the stream of people entering the mountain, following the tunnels leading to the Downside Gate. As they arrived, a discrete glance showed a dozen guards flanking them on either side while another four stood on the walkway over the gate, covering them with crossbows. Always the same number, always the same faces. They said dwarves were inscrutable, that no race was so hard to tell apart. Well, that wasn’t true. There were all different kinds and different types of dwarf: sour, mean, angry, cruel, arrogant, indifferent. But as far as she could tell they were all greedy.
