Resistance

by Alex Janaway

‘You’re lucky I didn’t bite your fingers off, you bastard,’ she growled.

  ‘Sorry, but see how nice it is when you don’t struggle?’ The man stepped away from the shadows. And Cade took a step back. It was the fucking elf!

  ‘You! What do you thin–’

  The elf raised his hand to quiet her. ‘Please, I’m a friend. Can we just stay in the shadows? I only have a moment.’

  She cocked her head.

  He spoke in perfect Tissan. There was the hint of an accent, maybe from the east of the Empire.

  She eyed him cautiously, but followed him back into the shadow of the bakery.

  ‘You must listen to me,’ he said. ‘You have to know what’s going to happen to you.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. You lot are pissed off. The dwarf already told me.’

  ‘The dwarf knows nothing. The elves know about what’s going on here. They want it ended. They want you all dead.’

  Cade shrugged. That was hardly news. Every other race on earth wanted them dead.

  ‘What do you care? Who the hell are you?’ she demanded.

  The elf leaned in close.

  ‘My name is Fillion. Captain Sabin Fillion. Of His Majesty’s Imperial Scouts.’

  ‘Bollocks you are.’

  The elf sighed.

  ‘I know, you look at me, you see one of the enemy. I get it. That doesn’t change who I am. My mother was an elf, my father was human. From the borders.’

  Ah, that made sense. She was right about the accent. Even so.

  ‘Prove it,’ she demanded.

  ‘How? I can tell you anything you want to know about the Empire. Just listen to me. Do I sound like an elf?’

  ‘Not sure, I’ve never heard one.’

  ‘Look. I was part of a group sent to save Prince Tigh, to get him to Aberpool before the fleet sailed.’

  ‘Fleet?’ she asked. ‘I was at Aberpool. Didn’t see a fleet. I was in a cell though, so I guess I might have missed a few things.’

  The elf, Fillion or whatever his name was, shook his head.

  ‘Look, you must have gotten out. What did you see? The city. It was deserted, right? No citizens, just soldiers?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘What of it?’

  ‘That was deliberate. A means of helping the escape, to buy time. Everyone was either put on the ships or forced outside.’

  Cade chewed the inside of her cheek. That’s pretty much what she’d heard from other survivors. Either way, what would this elf … human … half elf-man, gain from talking to her if he wasn’t on the level?

  ‘Say I believe you for one second. So what? And how in the Seven Hells are you here? Dressed like that?’

  Fillion reached out and touched her shoulder. ‘I’m surviving. Just like you. And I’m looking for a way to fight back. To make them pay.’

  ‘Good for you. We’re a little busy right now keeping our heads down and trying to stay alive.’

  ‘Listen to what I am saying. Your dwarf can’t protect you. You can’t just live out your lives here. The elves will come or they will make the dwarves do it. They want you all dead.’

  There was a tone in his voice that told Cade that he was telling the truth and a chill went through her.

  ‘How long do we have?’ she asked.

  Fillion shook his head. ‘Worst case scenario? I’d say you have three months.’

  ‘Three months?!’ That gave her no time.

  ‘As I said, that’s worse case, you may have longer. It depends how much of a fight the dwarves want to put up to keep you.’

  ‘They can be stubborn when it’s in their best interests,’ Cade assured him.

  ‘But then there are the elves, and the one I work for? He won’t delay – he’ll do whatever has to be done.’

  The one he worked for. Yeah, she’d love to talk to him about that little nugget. But that would have to wait.

  ‘What can you do to help?’ she asked.

  He thought for a moment. ‘I’m not sure yet. I can’t hide the facts. But maybe I can cause some delays. I have my own plans.’

  ‘Oh, well, far be it from me to get in your way.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve spoken to another human.’

  ‘You’ve been with them since Aberpool?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Fillion smiled ruefully. ‘Indeed. But I know you’ll have had it bad.’

  ‘At least we could be ourselves.’

  A cough, coming from somewhere nearby, caused Fillion to whip his head round.

  ‘We’re out of time. What are you going to do?’

  Cade scratched her head. Good question. ‘You came to the right girl. I reckon we’ll have to rethink our future. Might be time for us to blow this place.’

  Fillion nodded. ‘Good. Head west. There are no remaining enemy outposts in Tissan lands, as far as I know.’ He paused, a pained expression on his face. ‘I wish I could do more.’

  ‘Hey, don’t sweat it. Happy to get a heads up, all things considered. I haven’t put up with this shit just to be slaughtered by a bunch of uppity, pointy-eared bastards.’

  That brought a smile to his face. Fillion nodded. ‘Good luck.’

  He turned away and vanished into the night.

  Cade stayed where she was, leaning against the wall. She looked down at the loaves still clutched in her hands. It was times like this she really could do with a bottle of something red. Or white. Or a small keg of something. She wasn’t fussy. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the stone behind her. If this Fillion was being straight with her, then they needed to come up with a plan. Things were taking a turn she’d never expected, but maybe not everything she had helped to engineer would go to waste. She looked out over the plateau. She wondered how many dwarves were left in the mountain range. And how many humans there were for each one of them.

  ‘Right.’

  She stepped out from the shadows, making for the warehouse.

  She had work to do.

  CHAPTER TWELVE – FILLION

  Fillion sat with his back against the waystation, the sun warming his face. He watched the barges pass by on the Ras, their dwarf masters calling to one another, sharing information. No one paid him any mind as he observed, no one questioned his purpose for being there, even though he was an elf. The dwarfs were a remorseless and implacable enemy, yet again he was struck by the notion that what played out before him could have been a scene from any Tissan community. But it only took a moment for him to remember what they had done to his people. What they were still doing. Branding human beings, using them as slave labour, treating them like cattle. That put things back into perspective and made his purpose sharper. The question, however, remained: what should he do? What could he do? It was a cruel fate that he was chosen to be the instrument of their demise. Should he keep up the charade and keep focused on the bigger picture? If so, he was condemning them all to death.

  The young woman he had spoken to had come across as smart and seemed to take on board what he said to her. He wished he’d had more time, but he’d acted on the spur of the moment. Meeting her on the stairs like that, locking eyes with her. He had seen intelligence as well as stark loathing. Even though his mission was to seek out human slaves, it had shaken him to his core to bump into one so soon.

  The dwarf, Vidar, had taken pride in his business, had flaunted his use of Tissans, had confirmed all that Patiir had suspected. Vidar had even referred to that woman by her name, Cade, called her his fixer. So again, the question: what could he do? There was, he supposed, one option. He could say nothing. Tell Patiir that there was no truth in what he believed. There were no humans in bondage, and the dwarves worked the mines. That might wash. The dwarfs had never admitted to it, they were happy with the way things were. He could plead ignorance – say that the dwarves had just lied to him. Deceitful, untrustworthy and greedy, it’s what they were known for after all. It would buy him time. Idiot. Did he r
eally think he could get away with that?

  ‘You made it, then?’ asked Marmus, emerging from the waystation’s doorway.

  ‘Yes, it appears I did,’ replied Fillion. The dwarf and his entourage had arrived late in the night. Fillion was already in his cot when they had showed up, but he had heard the ruckus they’d made outside and the stamping of their boots as they had traipsed upstairs.

  Marmus grunted and scratched his beard.

  ‘Did you get what you need?’

  Fillion nodded.

  ‘I believe so.’

  Marmus moved his scratching to his chest, rummaging around under his shirt.

  ‘Good. Then you are ready to head back?’

  ‘Yes, I just need to saddle Amice.’

  ‘Right, I’ll get the lads ready.’

  Marmus disappeared off to the stables. Fillion stretched his neck and pushed himself off the ground. His peaceful repose was at an end.

  ‘Ah, Sabin, my friend!’ declared Ezra, emerging into the sunlight. ‘At last, someone I don’t have to look down on to speak to.’

  ‘Careful, Marmus might hear.’

  Ezra waved a dismissive hand. ‘That old curmudgeon has so much hair growing out of his ears I’m shocked he can hear anything.’

  ‘Have a care, Ezra, he is a crafty one. I wouldn’t put anything past him.’

  ‘As you say. All I know is the conversation has not been scintillating since we parted ways.’

  ‘And how was your business?’ Fillion asked.

  ‘Quite acceptable. I met with a number of merchant representatives, passed messages to various politicians and functionaries, and got treated as dirt by all I came into contact with.’

  Fillion simply smiled.

  ‘And did you see them?’ pressed Ezra.

  ‘See who?’

  ‘The humans, of course.’

  Fuck.

  Ezra barked a laugh.

  ‘Oh, Sabin. I’m sorry. It’s just the look on your face. Please, do not take it personally. Your innocence does you credit, just as much as it makes you terrible at statecraft.’

  Inwardly Fillion cursed his foolishness. It was obvious that if Patiir had wind of something then so would Tekla. For all he knew he might have heard it from her in the first place.

  ‘I can’t hide anything from you, can I, Ezra?’

  The Servant shook his head. ‘Not in this case. Member Tekla and I had half expected the dwarves to pull something like this. It is fortunate that there are several dwarves who value gain over patriotism. I was passed information regarding the matter some time ago and duly informed both our respective masters. But, this is Member Patiir’s particular area of concern and it was only right that you were given the task of confirming the veracity of the intelligence,’ Ezra smoothed out his robes and then looked up at him, a quizzical brow raised. ‘And?’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Fillion with an exaggerated sigh. ‘The dwarves have thousands of them. In fact, it’s just one dwarf. He has taken over the management of the whole area, and he’s got the humans working almost every element of the mining operation. Now the other owners just reap the benefits.’

  Ezra nodded his head approvingly.

  ‘A sensible business decision.’

  You cold bastard.

  ‘I will inform Member Patiir of my findings. But I must admit, I don’t know what he expects to achieve,’ said Fillion.

  Ezra leaned back and stroked his chin, contemplating. ‘I doubt very much this will be allowed to continue. If it’s one thing that Patiir is known for it’s his thoroughness. He would not suffer there to be any humans this close to the Heartlands. He’ll make a special petition direct to the King. Member Tekla will support him in this, as will many others. We had all expected the humans to be eradicated.’

  Fillion felt a hollow sense of defeat. There goes any hope of trying to stall.

  ‘Even so, there must be survivors still in the west?’ he ventured.

  ‘Perhaps, but not in any great numbers. None that we need concern ourselves about. No, the threat lies in what the dwarves may decide to do. They say that they will let the humans slowly die off. But what if they get a taste for having this slave nation? Encourage them to breed?’

  Fillion hadn’t thought about that, but it was obvious now he did.

  ‘The response to this will be quick,’ Ezra continued. ‘The dwarves will be put under the strongest political pressure. There will be the threat of sanctions, tariffs and the like. They won’t like that.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ agreed Fillion.

  ‘Come on, you two!’ announced Marmus, rounding the building astride his mount. The sound of tramping feet announced his guard, and behind them the creaking of wagons. ‘The sooner we get going, the sooner I don’t have to look at your faces any longer.’

  Fillion waved in response.

  ‘Was that dwarf humour?’ asked Ezra, clearly not sure whether to be outraged or not.

  Knowing Marmus, it depended on who he was referring to. As Fillion went to fetch Amice, his mind was racing. Thousands of Tissans were living on borrowed time. He needed a new plan.

  A few days later Fillion joined Marmus who sat on a log apart from his entourage, gazing out into the wild. Fillion was on edge, aware of the risk he was about to take. Behind them the cookfire was starting to burn low and on hearing soft words spoken he turned, a little too abruptly, to see Reygar lean forward and place two branches on to it. Fillion watched the sparks drift lazily into the star-strewn sky. Calm down. He had to play this right. Beside him, Marmus puffed on his long-stemmed pipe. He appeared calm and unaware of Fillion’s unease.

  ‘Nice night,’ he ventured.

  Marmus blew out a few smoke rings. ‘It is that.’

  He took another puff and offered the pipe to Fillion. This was a first. Fillion nodded and accepted the pipe. The tobacco smoke tasted surprisingly sweet. He made an appreciative noise and passed it back.

  Marmus watched him and smiled.

  ‘Not what you were expecting?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well, you elves aren’t known for your palates. But good for you for trying it.’ He replaced the pipe in his mouth and took another draw.

  They sat in silence for a while. Fillion rubbed the back of his neck. He looked across at the far side of the camp where his elven colleagues were gathered. They couldn’t hear them over here. Now was as good a time as any.

  ‘Marmus. We are friends. At least, I know you dislike me less than most of my people,’ Fillion said, keeping his gaze fixed on the fire.

  Marmus murmured his agreement.

  ‘And you know I fought in the war against the humans. So I have no love for them.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘I find myself possessed of certain knowledge. I am … conflicted.’

  Marmus pulled the pipe from his mouth, finally interested. ‘Continue.’

  ‘I am a loyal Servant. I serve my Member and my King and my people. But if I did not share with you what I know, it would be a betrayal of our trust. Something I have come to value a great deal.’

  Fillion glanced at Marmus. The dwarf was looking at him keenly, his eyes glowed sinister in the reflected embers of his pipe.

  ‘What is it, lad, spit it out,’ urged Marmus.

  Fillion sighed loudly, letting his shoulders droop as if in defeat.

  ‘You know Member Patiir asked me to accompany you to act as his agent to inspect your new workings, to ensure it was a viable concern. And that I did. But my secondary mission was to discern whether there was a workforce of enslaved humans.’

  ‘No discerning needed, I gather,’ said Marmus.

  ‘It was something of a … surprise to me to discover just how many were employed. We are not talking a few hundred humans. There are thousands, Marmus.’

  ‘And your point is?’ asked Marmus, his voice betraying no sense of shock at the news.

  ‘Patiir will not suffer this situation to continue unanswered. He will
press for their annihilation.’

  ‘And why does he think he has any say in this matter?’ responded Marmus. ‘It’s none of his damn business.’ The tone of his voice had changed. It was challenging and officious, like he was back at the Parliament.

  Fillion shook his head.

  ‘It violates the terms of our treaty, Marmus, as you well know. Patiir will bring all of his considerable influence to bear on this. He will petition the King to force the Dwarf Nations’ hand in this matter and I believe he will succeed. One way or another Patiir will ensure the humans are eradicated like the vermin they are. He will not rest until that happens. You know him, you know how driven he is.’

  ‘He can try, Sabin. He can try,’ said Marmus, flatly.

  ‘Marmus, I do not like being used as a spy. I warn you of this because I do not wish to see you ambushed or manipulated in any way. The number of friends I have in the capital would be exactly halved if you were to be expelled.’

  ‘No fear of that, Sabin. I will not be bullied. Nor will the nations of the dwarves,’ Marmus growled.

  Fillion waited for more but Marmus had taken to his pipe once again. He turned to look at Marmus directly.

  ‘Will you keep this discreet? Between us?’ he asked.

  Marmus nodded, the pipe held in clenched teeth. Then he pulled it free and met Fillion’s gaze.

  ‘I understand the delicacy of your situation. You’re stuck right in Patiir’s web. You are wed to his daughter, you have sired his grandchild. I will not betray your confidence.’

  Fillion sighed again. Relief causing shoulders to sag, this time for real.

  ‘Thank you, my friend. What will you do?’

  ‘Do? Nothing for now. I’ll wait for Patiir to play his hand. But forewarned is forearmed. I will think on how to counter his machinations.’

  ‘Very well.’ Fillion made a play of forcing himself to stand. ‘I will take my leave of you and bid you goodnight.’

  ‘One last thing,’ said Marmus. Fillion stopped. ‘If you hear anything else on this matter, I would appreciate it if you let me know. Naturally in a manner which serves your continued discretion.’

  Fillion hesitated a moment then nodded his assent.

  He turned and walked back to his companions, feeling Marmus’s eyes burning into his back. He smiled despite his caution. The play was in motion.