Stormtide

by Den Patrick

  You slept well?

  ‘Of course not,’ said Streig. ‘None of us did. Spent the whole night thinking about the ghosts of murdered Spriggani wanting to strangle us in our sleep.’ They travelled in silence for a while until the cart drew ahead of them taking de Vries and Orlov beyond earshot.

  ‘I take back what I said about you not wanting to attract attention,’ said the young soldier. ‘You seem to like attention as much as the next man, but your performance last night didn’t win you any friends.’

  The fate of the Spriggani people is a subject that is close to my … Silverdust paused. He hadn’t had a heart for a very long time, he was as much a phantom as the ones that haunted Novaya Zemlya.

  ‘How do you know so much about them?’ asked Streig. ‘And how do you know so much about the war?’

  Can I trust you to keep my secrets though I angered you last night?

  Streig thought on it for a moment. ‘Of course,’ he replied, though his expression remained sullen.

  I myself am a Spriggani, though it has been decades since I lived among them. I lived through the Age of Fire when the war with the dragons could be felt in every province, and it seemed every family had lost someone to the claws or teeth of those terrible creatures.

  ‘As if the Emperor would allow a Spriggani child to rise through the ranks of the Holy Synod.’ Streig shook his head. ‘I’m beginning to think you’re full of shit. Seeing ghosts that no one else can see? Come on, stop gaming with me.’

  Things were different during the Age of Fire. The Emperor merely resented the Spriggani mastery over the arcane. He coveted that mastery, hoped it would be what the world needed to save the lives of men. Humans were almost wiped out during the Time of Tears and it was only when the dragons started making war between themselves that people had a chance to regain their strength, their numbers.

  ‘I’d heard that before,’ admitted Streig. They travelled the lonely steppe in silence for a time but Silverdust could feel the young soldier’s curiosity increase with every heartbeat.

  What else do you want to know?

  ‘Is what you said really true? About this place and the Spriggani?’ Silverdust nodded and cast his mind back to that time, though it pained him to do so.

  My people were always blessed by the power of the goddesses. The Emperor gleaned enough about the arcane from a small number of sympathetic Spriggani to make a difference in his war against the dragons. Once the dragons were defeated he turned his fury on those Spriggani who had denied him aid. A number which chiefly counted the followers of Frøya and Frejna, which is why those religions are now proscribed. Almost every Spriggani in Vinterkveld was brought here by Imperial soldiers, including my family, though I didn’t know it at the time. The Emperor told them that as thanks for the help he had received, they would have their own province, but few believed him. When they reached this place they found entire regiments of soldiers with eager knives. Those who did not die on the first day spent the next week digging shallow graves for themselves and their kin. They died in their hundreds and just as the killing ended, more Spriggani were brought from other provinces. No one knows how many were killed. No exact tally exists. Their tale was never told.

  ‘Why didn’t the priesthoods of Frøya and Frejna simply share their secrets with the Emperor?’ said Streig, trying to make sense of what he was being told. ‘They all wanted the same thing, surely? An end to the dragons.’

  Because the wisest of the Spriggani, the priestesses of Frøya and Frejna, had looked into the heart of the Emperor and seen only darkness. This is why all right-thinking Spriggani refused to teach him the ways of the goddesses. In time their instinct proved true. The Emperor cut ties with the goddesses. He found a way to draw the power of the arcane from the dragons instead, becoming the very thing he had fought against for all those long years.

  ‘So the Emperor is a liar and hypocrite?’ said Streig.

  And many more things besides. Khlystburg is the most dangerous place in Vinterkveld, and all because the person who rules there will do anything to hold onto power.

  ‘And you have to give evidence to him.’

  I do.

  Streig looked at the Exarch and Silverdust could feel his dread like a sickness. ‘Even if you persuade him you’re innocent of the things Father Orlov is saying about you …’ The young soldier rubbed his stubbled chin with a calloused hand, then shook his head.

  Even if I persuade the Emperor of my innocence, I may yet still perish. This is the Empire you are serving, Streig. It is an Empire of old lies and new violence.

  ‘We need to think of a way to keep you alive,’ said the young soldier. Silverdust would have smiled had he still had a mouth. The soldier’s regard for him was a pleasant reprieve from the endless suspicion of the Holy Synod.

  I simply desire to look the Emperor in the eye one last time.

  Silverdust kept his true intention to himself; he had no need for conspirators just yet.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Steiner

  The trek east through the forest gave them a measure of shelter from the elements and prying eyes, but the even the company of brigands and Nils’ near-permanent cheerfulness couldn’t keep Steiner’s fears at bay. He was restless with his need to be in Slavon Province, desperate to discover where Felgenhauer was hiding. He’d convinced himself that it was her power he needed to make the uprising take hold.

  ‘Less cold this morning,’ said Einar, falling into step beside Steiner and Kristofine.

  ‘The seasons are on the turn,’ she agreed. ‘Back in Nordvlast we wouldn’t see spring for another month at least.’

  ‘So this Felgenhauer …’ Einar glanced at Steiner from his one good eye. ‘You have any idea how to find her once you’re in Slavon Province?’

  Steiner released a slow breath, not quite a sigh. Kristofine, sensing his anxiety, took his hand in hers and gave a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Truthfully, I don’t,’ said Steiner. ‘I’m hoping fortune will smile upon us but I’m more concerned she’ll have moved on elsewhere before we arrive. This hike across the country is taking forever.’

  ‘If you know a faster way then by all means, let’s hear it.’ Marek had joined them and answered in his usual no-nonsense fashion that did little to ease Steiner’s fears.

  ‘I’m just saying is all,’ snapped Steiner. Father and son shared a hard look, neither caring much for what they saw.

  ‘I understand that she’s a powerful Vigilant—’ began Kristofine.

  ‘Renegade Vigilant,’ interrupted Steiner.

  ‘But why are you so keen to track her down?’ A brief frown crossed Kristofine’s face. ‘Can we trust her?’

  ‘Kristofine has a point,’ said Marek. ‘Felgenhauer always played her cards close to her chest. We don’t know what to expect when we reach Slavon Province.’

  ‘She kept me safe on Vladibogdan,’ replied Steiner, feeling his irritation building. ‘That’s why she’s wanted by the Emperor, because of me.’

  ‘Renegade or not,’ said Marek, ‘we don’t know for sure we can trust her.’

  ‘She’s my aunt.’ Steiner had raised his voice a bit and a few of the brigands turned their head on instinct. ‘I don’t have too much family left since we lost Verner. And now Kjell’s in Shanisrond …’

  None of them had spoken of Kjellrunn since leaving the port. He hoped fiercely that he would find her in a Shanisrond town under the protective gaze of Mistress Kamalov and Sundra when all this was done.

  Kristofine released his hand and picked up the pace, storming ahead of them until she fell into step with Nils and a few other brigands.

  Steiner stared after her with a puzzled frown. ‘What’s got into her?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Marek. ‘Maybe it’s that she lost her mother just over a year ago. Or maybe it’s because she left her father behind in Nordvlast.’

  ‘That’s hardly the same,’ said Steiner. ‘He suspected her of witchsign. He barely spoke
to her while I was on the island.’

  ‘She has no one, Steiner,’ said Marek, looking about as stern as Steiner had ever seen him. ‘No one but you.’

  Steiner’s anger drained out of him. ‘I didn’t think of that.’

  Einar, who had listened to all of this, leaned close to Steiner and spoke in a soft rumble. ‘Would you hear something from an old man? Something that might help?’

  Steiner nodded. He could use all the help he could get and wasn’t too proud to admit it.

  ‘No one likes to be taken for granted,’ said Einar. ‘And you’ve a fine woman there who’s following you to the ends of the earth—’

  ‘Slavon Province is hardly—’

  ‘But it feels like it,’ said Einar, holding up one finger. ‘To her, having lived in Cinderfell her whole life, every step must feel like a step into a different life.’

  Steiner felt like a child again, embarrassed for what he didn’t know and angry for not learning it sooner. ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Let her know that she’s appreciated,’ replied Einar. ‘I don’t know many people who turn away from that. We all need kindness just as the crops need sunshine and rain.’

  Steiner approached Kristofine when they stopped to eat their meagre lunch. She was sitting with Nils who looked delighted at having such attractive company.

  ‘I’m sorry about before,’ said Steiner as he sat down, not quite able to look her in the eye. Kristofine looked at him blankly.

  ‘Is that it? That’s the full extent of your apology?’

  ‘Maybe I should go and check on the horses,’ said Nils, standing up, keen to be away.

  ‘We don’t have any horses,’ said Kristofine.

  ‘Just in case,’ replied Nils and left the couple alone.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ repeated Steiner. ‘I didn’t think how hard all of this must be for you. The strange thing is, well, you seem to be doing better at this than I am. You seem more, I don’t know, confident?’

  ‘I’m not under the same pressure as you,’ she replied. ‘But I’m right here, Steiner, without family, without home or work. Most days I barely know which way is north. All I have is you. You’re my north. And when you behave like a—’

  ‘Whining arsehole.’

  ‘Not my first choice of words,’ she replied, but for a moment her stony anger slipped and a smile appeared on her lips. They sat together and ate for a time, chewing slowing, thinking over what had been said and what still might need to be said.

  ‘I feel so out of my depth,’ he said at last.

  ‘Maybe you should stop trying to do everything by yourself. I know you’re “Steiner the Unbroken” now but you’re just one man. Every man I’ve ever met needed friends. Every woman too for that matter.’

  He slipped his fingers into her palm, hoping she wouldn’t snatch it away. They entwined their fingers and shared a moment of just looking at each other, seeing each other a little more clearly.

  The brigands were not half as dangerous as Steiner had imagined them to be. For every cut-throat and ne’er-do-well among them, there were two men who simply wished to remain hidden from the Empire.

  ‘How did you come to live like this?’ said Steiner to Nils later that day as they picked their way through the silent forest, breath steaming on the air.

  ‘The old story.’ Nils’ usual smile slipped, replaced by a more reflective expression. ‘They took my daughter. Said she had the taint of witchsign.’ He gave a resigned shrug. ‘My wife never recovered from the loss. Three years to the day after the Empire took my daughter …’ Nils sighed. ‘Three years to the day, that’s when my wife left me. There was no big argument or fight. We simply became strangers to each other in the months that followed. I don’t know where she went. She was my last link to a normal life. I’d already lost my job, and my friends had long since stopped calling.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Steiner. ‘My sister has witchsign too.’

  ‘Einar’s story is much the same,’ added Nils. ‘The Empire doesn’t just steal children, it destroys families, friendships, marriages.’ Nils was quiet a moment. ‘It’s not enough to whisper in dark taverns about rebellion, Steiner. Someone has to kill the Emperor, someone has to break him down.’ Nils stared at the sledgehammer. ‘Tell me you’ll kill him, dragon rider. Tell me you’ll smash his black soul with your great hammer.’ Steiner thought about his duel on the beach at Cinderfell with Shirinov. It had nearly killed him just to defeat one Vigilant, and he’d had the Ashen Torment at his command.

  ‘I’ll try,’ replied Steiner. ‘I’ll try for all of us.’

  Nils looked at the boy with the hammer, grimaced, then stalked away to be alone.

  The forest thinned out and eventually the brigands were marching across open grasslands again. The mountains rose in the distance, wreathed in mist and capped with snow. The mountain pass, invisible at first, became more apparent beneath them with every mile.

  ‘There’s your problem,’ said Einar when they had stopped to catch their breath. They were well past the foothills now. The ground was rocky underfoot and the wind spiteful cold. The brigand’s leader pointed to a small point of flickering light in the distance.

  ‘What it is?’ asked Steiner, squinting to see better.

  ‘A garrison of soldiers. They’ll have a few questions for you, I imagine.’ Einar gave a humourless smile. ‘And like any soldier at a border, they’ll want a few coins for the brief pleasure of their company.’

  ‘What?’ Steiner frowned.

  ‘A bribe!’ said Einar. ‘Frøya’s teeth, but you’re naive.’

  ‘Never had any soldiers to bribe in Nordvlast,’ said Marek by way of explanation and Steiner felt less foolish for it.

  ‘True enough,’ said Einar. ‘Not much of anything in Nordvlast except snow.’

  ‘I can’t argue with that,’ replied Marek.

  ‘I don’t care too much for bribing soldiers,’ said Steiner. They didn’t have so much coin that Steiner was willing to part with it for soldiers. And they’d no doubt see the sledgehammer and that would lead to some difficult questions. ‘We’ll have to find a way to sneak past them.’

  ‘Did you not hear me?’ Einar jerked a thumb towards the garrison. ‘It’s a mountain pass. Only one way through.’ Nils said nothing, but stared at the pass as if it were a personal affront.

  ‘I guess we could do things the old-fashioned way,’ said Steiner, looking at his sledgehammer meaningfully. ‘We’ll have the advantage of surprise if we do it right.’

  Nils grinned. ‘I like the way the dragon rider thinks. We take the fight to the black-hearted bastards.’

  ‘The dragon rider is going to get himself killed,’ said Kristofine with a frown.

  ‘I’m not paying Imperial soldiers for the privilege of being searched and arrested because I’m carrying this.’ He held up the sledgehammer. ‘Besides, it’s not like we can sneak past.’

  ‘She has a point though,’ said Einar, rubbing at his bandaged eye. ‘We’re hardly at fighting strength.’ He looked over his band of men. All were gaunt with hunger and ragged from a life outdoors.

  ‘The garrison will have food,’ said Steiner. ‘And it will be a few days before a new patrol comes. You can rest up and get fat at the Empire’s expense.’

  Nils gave a low chuckle. ‘Tell us more.’ At least half the brigands crowded in a little closer to hear Steiner out.

  ‘We’ll need to attack in a few different places at the same time to cause confusion,’ said Steiner.

  ‘And we need to get someone scaling the walls,’ added Marek. ‘Get someone inside. All this will be for naught if they bar the doors and wait us out.’

  ‘This will be a raid worthy of a great song!’ said Nils with a wild glint in his eye.

  ‘It has to be a fight,’ said Steiner to Kristofine. ‘We can’t talk our way through this one.’

  Kristofine nodded. ‘Fine. We do it your way.’ She shook her head. ‘Just don’t get yourself killed.’

&n
bsp; ‘I like being alive just fine, I promise you,’ he replied.

  ‘This plan had best be good, dragon rider,’ said Einar and Steiner looked towards the pass and set to thinking.

  ‘I can’t make this plan alone,’ he said. ‘So I’m open to suggestions.’

  The Empire took no chances with security and the garrison was no exception. A sturdy stone gatehouse blocked the pass with wooden doors twice the height of a man, studded with black iron. The walls were twenty feet high with battlements lining the top. The Empire had done their best to clear as many trees as they could, but ancient pines crowded the treacherous slopes above the pass.

  Marek carried a lantern and walked down the middle of the pass right up to the garrison’s gates, singing an old soldier’s song in Solska with a rough and deep baritone. The two soldiers standing guard on the battlements took notice and ceased their pacing to watch the stranger approach, leaning over the walls to get a better look.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ whispered Kristofine beside Steiner. They were hiding behind an outcropping of rock just a hundred feet from the gatehouse.

  ‘No one likes it,’ said Nils. The man jigged from foot to foot with impatience, barely bothering to hide. ‘Stay back if you’re scared. Boil up some water and prepare some bandages. We might have need of them.’

  Kristofine scowled but Marek made the sign before she could reply. The old blacksmith raised the lantern above his head and many things happened simultaneously. The brigands hiding at the base of the walls threw up their ropes and nooses, snaring the patrolling soldiers. Marek had guided them with subtle gestures on his approach. Four men threw ropes, but only two made their targets. The soldiers wrapped in rope struggled in shock and Steiner sprinted along the road from his hiding place, sledgehammer tucked into his belt, a length of rope in his hand.