by Alex Janaway
‘It means there ain’t no way of catching them now’, said Beautiful, who was standing by the wagon.
‘They must have sent all the horses left in New Tissan,’ said Fenner. ‘If you include the two the Emperor had, that’s a party of maybe seven riders now making their way east.’
‘And what about their wagon?’ asked Coyle.
‘They won’t be together now. That wagon will be going back by itself. Probably not even any Gifted on it.’
Father Michael stood and rolled his shoulders. His neck felt stiff and sore and he still got headaches, but he was healing.
‘So they are riding back to Tissan,’ he said.
‘And they’ll get there several days, maybe even a week or so, before us.’
Father Michael sat down once more. The last week had been frustrating. Every day he hoped they had gained ground and would soon be able to act. To free the Emperor.
‘We must press on,’ he said.
‘Well there’s no point in turning back, that’s for sure,’ agreed Fenner. ‘They know we’ll be coming, mind you.’
‘They won’t know I’m coming.’
‘You itching on taking them all on, Father?’
‘I would if I had to,’ replied Father Michael.
‘That I would like to see,’ said Fenner.
‘But it will take all of us and a bloody good plan if we are going to defeat them.’
Fenner shrugged. ‘Depends what you have in mind.’
Father Michael had nothing more to say. Until they got there, who knew what was going on in New Tissan? He’d have to remain patient.
‘Does this mean we can have a fire tonight?’ asked Coyle.
‘Seven Hells, I don’t see why not. Let’s tear up that shelter and build a new fire. Can someone catch us something to eat?’ ordered Fenner.
‘On it,’ said Beautiful.
‘No reason for roughing it any more than we have to,’ said Fenner, easing off his boots.
‘Want me to peel some of those veg up?’ said Wendell, already walking stiffly towards the back of the wagon.
‘I’ll unhitch the horse,’ offered Father Michael.
‘Thank you, Father,’ said Fenner. He had also removed his socks and was rubbing his toes.
Father Michael saw Coyle already ripping apart the shelter. The prospect of hot food was probably the best luxury he could think of right now. He set off wearily to tend to the horse.
One week later, they spotted the eagle skimming low over the horizon, coming from the east. Fenner and Father Michael exchanged a look. Fenner pulled an earlobe.
‘We should try and find out what’s going on,’ he said.
Father Michael nodded in agreement.
‘Alright, look lively, you lot,’ said Fenner. Wendell, keep your crossbow on the bird. It’s the easier target. Beautiful, Coyle, find a spot, hunker down and give us a crossfire. Father?’
‘Yes?’
‘Look mean.’
Easily done.
Fenner halted the wagon and moved his crossbow on to his lap.
The waited quietly as the eagle drew near. The eagle stayed on a straight line, not even attempting a precautionary circling of their position.
‘Not expecting trouble, this one,’ suggested Fenner.
As the eagle glided in to land just a few dozen yards away, Father Michael recognised its distinctive wing colours. It was Nukka, Bryce’s bird.
The Eagle Rider climbed off and strolled across to them, removing his leather gloves.
‘Afternoon,’ he called.
‘Back at ya,’ replied Fenner.
Bryce stopped just in front of the wagon. He looked right and left and then pointedly at Wendell who had taken up a firing position just behind the rear wheel.
‘Good to see you,’ he said. ‘Could you do me a favour?’
‘What’s that?’ asked Fenner.
‘Could you all stop pointing your bloody bows at me?’
Fenner sat back and looked at Father Michael.
‘What do you think, Father? Reckon we got time for this grouchy son of a bitch?’
‘Yes, I believe we do,’ replied Father Michael.
‘Everyone stand down,’ said Fenner loudly. ‘Wendell? Let’s get a brew going, shall we?’
Once a fire had been started and the water put on to boil, Bryce told them his news.
‘I was hoping I’d see you. Cadarn told me to keep low, just in case.’ He looked at the marines. ‘I wasn’t sure if you four were going to hightail it away. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.’
‘Not our style,’ said Beautiful.
‘Nor mine,’ said Father Michael.
Bryce tipped his head in acknowledgment.
‘Now, you I didn’t expect to see. Heard you were dead,’ said Bryce.
‘Not yet,’ replied Father Michael, drily.
Bryce nodded and paused a moment.
‘That might change things. Maybe.’ He turned back to the marines. ‘As for you lot, you’re not welcome in New Tissan.’
‘There’s a surprise,’ muttered Wendell.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Fenner.
‘The Admiral. When the Gifted made their move, he got to The Fist, took it and the other men-o-war right out into the middle of the channel. And there he’s stayed, refusing to talk to Cardinal Yarn and not listening to any of her threats.’
‘Hah!’ said Coyle, slapping his thigh.
‘Good for the Admiral,’ agreed Fenner.
‘They even got the Emperor to tell him to come back in and he still refused, saying the command meant nothing if the Emperor was compelled to give it,’ said Bryce.
‘A bold move. No one ever denies the will of the Emperor, compelled or no,’ said Beautiful.
‘These are changing times,’ agreed Bryce. ‘Be that as it may, it cost three citizens their lives.’
Coyle whistled.
‘Shit,’ said Wendell.
‘Yarn isn’t messing about,’ continued Bryce. ‘That’s how things are now.’
‘How many has the Admiral got with him?’ asked Fenner.
‘Best we can figure, he’s got skeleton crews and about a score of marines with him,’ said Bryce. ‘A lot of the sailors who might’ve been loyal were working on the new ships. There was no time for him to gather most of them.’
‘Is that enough to retake the town?’ asked Father Michael.
Bryce shook his head.
‘It’s the Gifted we are talking about here. There’s about forty who can fight.’
‘What about the other soldiers?’ asked Fenner. ‘There were plenty of armed men back there when last I checked.’
‘The Gifted took care of that before they acted. Some officers had already been persuaded to turn and they ordered their men to stand down. Any loyalists that were going to cause problems were killed. The Gifted struck at night, many folk were killed in their sleep. There were some skirmishes. A few Gifted were killed, but at the end of it there were seventy soldiers and marines in the dirt.’
‘Seventy?’ said Beautiful, shock in her voice.
Bryce spat into the fire. ‘As if we needed to help the bastard Elves do their job for them.’
Father Michael listened with a growing sense of dread. ‘You said the loyalists were killed. What about the clergy? The Arch Cardinal?’
Bryce looked at him square in the eyes. ‘He’s dead. They all are.’
Father Michael rocked back, stunned. In just a few seconds his world had crumbled. His mentor, his saviour was gone.
‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Why would she do this?’
‘Yarn was being thorough with her coup. Best to make sure.’
‘And what of the Emperor?’ asked Father Michael.
‘Cadarn and I were waiting for him at the waystation. Eilion told us that what had happened. He also said that the Emperor’s mother was already a prisoner and that the Emperor had agreed to come quietly for the sake of her life.’ Bryce coughed. ‘I said to C
adarn, we should have just climbed on to our birds and tried to take them on. But the Leader said we had to swallow their crap.’ He turned his head and spat. ‘I didn’t like it. But I did it.’ He stretched his legs out and accepted a beaker from Wendell, taking a sip and making a sour face. ‘Eilion knew he couldn’t trust us, but he had the Emperor. He told us to fly back east until we found a Rider coming the other way, who could confirm it. Then we were to come back and pick up the Emperor and take him home.’
‘That’ll be where we found the waystation. With the horses?’ said Fenner.
Bryce nodded.
‘That was later. We were on our way back with the Emperor by then. The Cardinal had already despatched the horses to collect Eilion, no doubt she wanted all of her Gifted back. There are still a lot of unhappy people in New Tissan so they need the numbers.’
‘Surely the whole population is up in arms?’ asked Father Michael.
‘Not everyone is as pious as you, Father,’ said Fenner. ‘You see your world destroyed, your loved ones slaughtered, it’s gonna give some people pause to question their faith.’
Father Michael closed his eyes. He was struggling to understand how this could happen. How could anyone question divine right?
Bryce continued to talk. ‘We picked up the Emperor and relayed him back to New Tissan. It was all true. The Empress was in confinement along with her advisor. The rest of the clergy was dead. A bunch of soldiers and marines were in the ground and everyone else was cowed. The Gifted are running things now but life is going on. Folk are still building, even the work on the boats continues. The only resistance is out on the water. And the Gifted have Watchers. There is nothing the Admiral can do. He doesn’t have the numbers. Stalemate.’
‘And the Emperor is what? Just doing what Yarn says?’ asked Fenner.
‘Seems that way. I haven’t seen much of him since we got back,’ said Bryce. ‘The Emperor could command the people to rise up against Yarn, and maybe they would, but she’s got the one thing that the Emperor doesn’t want to lose. His mother.’ Bryce took another slip of the tea. ‘Gods, this tastes like shit. What are you putting in it?’ He emptied the beaker and Wendell huffed his disapproval. ‘Cadarn said that Yarn wants the Emperor alive and compliant. It’ll keep the population in line. And there is the small matter of a horde of Nidhal on its way.’
‘Yeah, doesn’t matter how many Gifted Yarn’s got, she can’t afford to piss them off,’ said Beautiful.
‘And that’s why I’m here,’ said Bryce. ‘I’m carrying a message to Nutaaq. Yarn wants to make sure there’s no … misunderstanding when they arrive.’
‘And are you going to deliver it?’ asked Fenner.
‘I am,’ Bryce said gruffly. ‘Cadarn, the other Eagle Riders, we are still loyal to the Emperor. Not to that bitch. Far as I am concerned, when she started killing soldiers, she crossed a line. The clergy, on the other hand– ’ He stopped and sucked air through his teeth. ‘Ah, sorry, Father. Just telling it how I see it. If it’s any consolation, they didn’t suffer.’
Father Michael nodded absently, he did not have the energy or desire to be angry with Bryce.
‘What do we do, then?’ asked Wendell.
‘We can’t go back to New Tissan. We killed two Gifted,’ replied Coyle.
‘Feels good, don’t it?’ said Beautiful.
‘We keep heading back east and link up with the Admiral, I suppose,’ said Fenner.
The group went silent. Father Michael closed his eyes. Sweet Emperor, what should I do? He had sworn an oath, and he had failed. What was there left for him? Yarn controlled the Emperor and Father Michael had to follow the Emperor’s bidding. Yet it was wrong. Surely the Emperor would not expect him to stand down? Father Michael felt the sharp claws of emotions that he had thought long gone. He felt the black oppression of despair creep its way back into his soul, just as it had done in the arena. He shook his head. No. He would not let it take him again. He faced a crossroads. Should he fight or retreat into nothingness. He had come close to that before, had lost himself for a time. And then the Arch Cardinal had saved him. He owed that man a debt. And perhaps, in the time spent out here, in the wilds, he had rebuilt his strength, his trust in his skills. He had seen the darkness in the Emperor, but he had also seen the salvation of Tissan in the Emperor’s alliance with the Nidhal. Father Michael still believed there was a future and it was the Emperor’s light, not his darkness, that guided the way. He knew what he had to do.
‘I have to rescue her,’ he announced.
‘Who?’ asked Wendell.
‘The Empress. If she is free then Yarn will have no hold over the Emperor. And once I have her, then the Emperor will command his people to take back control. The Gifted will pay for what they have done.’
Father Michael looked at his companions. They looked right back at him, with various expressions, but no one spoke.
‘I’ll do it alone. It’s my responsibility,’ he said.
Fenner sighed and pulled at his moustache. ‘I’ll bite. You want us to try and infiltrate New Tissan under the noses of the Gifted and break out the Emperor and his mother, which will then spark a general uprising of the populace thus defeating the best warriors Tissan possesses and reinstating the rule of the Emperor and the Imperial faith?’
Father Michael rolled his shoulders. ‘It’s a start.’
‘Your plan needs some work,’ said Beautiful.
‘The Admiral might be able to … tweak it a bit,’ offered Fenner.
‘Does that mean you’ll help me?’ asked Father Michael.
There seemed to be a moment of silent communication between the marines, as if they were making their minds up. Bryce coughed.
‘What do you want me to tell the Nidhal?’ he asked, looking right at Father Michael. ‘Remember, there’s a Gifted there too.’
Ellen? Of course, he had forgotten. Surely not her. She couldn’t be a part of it. Yet … she was a Gifted.
‘I’d like to think we can trust her but we can’t risk it,’ Father Michael admitted. He just hoped he was wrong. She wasn’t like the others.
‘She’s one of them, of course we can’t trust her,’ said Beautiful.
‘So, we don’t tell them anything,’ said Bryce. ‘Shame that. A bunch of angry Nidhal would help our cause no end.’
‘As long as Yarn controls the Emperor, the Nidhal can be of no help,’ said Fenner.
‘Then I’ll head off in the morning and give her the message as planned,’ said Bryce.
‘If we ever see each other again, can you tell me what her reaction is?’ asked Father Michael.
‘Still think we might be wrong about her?’ said Bryce.
‘If we don’t pull this off, it won’t make any difference,’ Beautiful sighed with a shake of her head.
Father Michael copied her sigh. ‘Ellen will do as she is bid, no matter the outcome. I doubt I will see you before we act, Bryce.’
‘Maybe,’ said Fenner. ‘I told you, the Admiral needs to hear this and to do that, we’ll need you, Bryce.’
Father Michael listened in with a growing sense of purpose as Fenner explained their next moves. Moments before he had felt a sense of isolation, his path a solitary one. But perhaps he wasn’t as alone as he had believed. The Emperor be praised.
CHAPTER TWENTY – FILLION
Fillion nudged Amice a little closer to the wagon. Nadena smiled and shifted her position along the padded driver’s bench so that she was close to the edge. In her arms, Brynne was dozing. Fillion had noticed very early on that sleep was his daughter’s favourite activity. He looked down at her face, a little chubbier, but still with that confused expression, like thinking was a painful process. When awake Brynne was even more confused and intrigued in equal measure. Every new sensation was a wonder to her and an opportunity to gurgle her delight.
‘She’s still here,’ said Nadena.
‘Just checking’ replied Fillion.
‘I know. You checked five minutes ago.’
‘Really? It seemed longer.’
‘Try sitting on this bench and see how slowly the time passes,’ Nadena offered.
‘You could ride inside,’ he suggested, indicating the covered interior of the wagon bed that was adorned in pillows, rugs and furnishings. A mobile bedroom.
‘And then you would complain that you couldn’t see us. Honestly, Sabin, there’s times I feel I have two children to please in this marriage.’
‘Am I not allowed to be a concerned father?’ Fillion asked, in mock outrage.
‘Of course, but you can cease your vigil. We are perfectly safe from any marauding beasts. We are two days out from the capital. What could possibly happen?’
‘Anything! Trust me, I’ve seen things.’
‘And I haven’t?’ she challenged.
Fillion conceded the point with a scowl. She was right, but he didn’t have to take it in good grace.
‘Now, why don’t you take your daughter, kiss her cheek, and accept everything is fine. Go stretch Amice’s legs for a bit.’
She raised the baby high and Fillion, panicking slightly, his legs tightening against Amice’s flanks, leaned sideways to gather her close to his chest. She wriggled in his arms and her eyes fluttered open. She made a gentle coughing sound that turned into a whine. Before it could turn into a full-blown whinge he kissed her forehead, rocking her gently, and started to hum a meaningless tune. Amice, without the guidance of her reins, continued calmly to keep pace with the wagon. After a couple of moments Brynne closed her eyes and passed into blissful oblivion.
‘Nicely done,’ said Nadena. ‘I should get you to do that more often.’
‘I suppose you can never start them too young. Get her used to being in the saddle now and in the future she’ll be an excellent rider. Like her mother.’
Nadena opened her mouth in shock. ‘Was that a compliment from the elf who hates to lose at racing? Are you feeling well, my love?’
Fillion laughed. ‘It must be my excitement at returning to the capital.’
‘Now I know you are sick,’ said Nadena. ‘Here …’ She raised her arms and Fillion handed Brynne back over. She adjusted her grip and shifted sideways on the bench again. The driver, one of the staff from the villa, grinned at the baby.
