Constans regarded her with suspicion, then dropped down into the sewer. I didn't. Zorya gazed at me.
[[Go. I will stay and hold them whilst you escape.]]
"No," I said flatly. "No one stays behind."
[[We have no time to argue, Master Edric. If they have not yet found Quintus, we cannot risk leading them to him. Someone has to delay our enemies long enough for them to lose the trail.]]
"You can't hold them back alone!"
"She's not going to," Jamar, said quietly.
"You can't be serious," I objected, but my denial of the situation wasn't helping. The fallen were closing. We'd only moments until they plucked up their courage and charged.
"My prince, we all have our parts to play. Zorya and I shall play ours, so that you can play yours." Jamar took a pouch from his belt and pressed it into my hand. "It has been my honour."
"No," I said softly. "It has been mine."
I embraced Jamar, bowed to Zorya, and then lowered myself into the darkness.
My boots splashed into ankle-deep water. I heard the scraping noise as Zorya lowered the grating back into position. I caught one last glimpse of the sentinel, then she moved out of sight.
"What's going on?" The catch in Arianwyn's voice betrayed her suspicions.
I opened the pouch. Silver gleamed. The silver of three remembrance rings: Romark's, Haril's... and Jamar's. Constans' eyes were grim. Arianwyn's were bright with tears.
She blinked them away. "Keep moving, or it'll be for nothing."
As if to reinforce the point, the ground shook as the fallen charged home. I heard Jamar answer with a battle cry of his own, then clashing of blades drowned out all other sounds. A fallen, black blood spurting from its wounds, pitched across the grate.
With one final look to where I'd last seen Jamar, I turned and, with a heavy heart, led what remained of my company deeper into the sewers.
*******
It transpired that Constans knew the sewers of the city only a little less well than he knew the layout of the streets – a fact that somehow surprised me not at all – and he led us confidently through the maze of tunnels.
At no point did we encounter any fallen. The closest we came to conflict was when something large and reptilian rolled off a ledge some distance in front of us, vanishing into the darkness of a culvert. Arianwyn's guardians crouched into hunting stances, but the creature did not emerge again. We passed the culvert without sign of the beast, but I found my mind dwelling on it for a long time afterwards. It was easier than thinking about what fate had befallen Zorya and Jamar.
Even so, I found their absence hard to bear. Twice I turned to ask Jamar a question, then remembered he was no longer there. Jamar had survived ridiculous odds outside the Tower of Stars just a couple of days earlier, but I couldn't conjure any hope that he'd endure this time. Perhaps, if Zorya had been hale and uninjured, the two of them would have found a way to fight free, but I had a suspicion Jamar had stayed behind precisely because he knew she was in no fit state to fight alone.
Arianwyn was even more dispirited. I'd lost a friend I'd found only a few days ago – she'd lost someone she'd known all her life. She wore a brave face when she knew that I was watching her, but the facade crumbled when she believed my attention was elsewhere. Only Constans seemed unperturbed. Over the centuries, he must have lost more friends and allies than I'd ever known. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if this was another sign of Jack's influence.
When we finally emerged from the sewers, we did so water-logged and thoroughly dispirited. At first, I feared I'd guessed wrong. The mists had reached this part of the city, and I worried that Quintus would have abandoned even his treasured headquarters. As it turned out, I needn't have feared. Though the building appeared as empty and lifeless as those nearby, Quintus had indeed set up shop inside, relying on shutters and curtains for concealment. It was an almost childish trick, but one that seemed to have worked so far. The main door swung silently inwards as we approached. The space beyond lay in darkness, but a pair of praetorians beckoned us in. Only when the first door was closed behind us was an inner door opened, and we were admitted into a dull, lantern-lit space.
The room beyond was almost unrecognisable. For one thing, all the furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room. For another, it was full of grim-faced soldiers and praetorians, some sleeping shiftlessly on palliasses, others wide awake and watching us with suspicious eyes. All were wounded and battle-worn, and had the look of men and women who'd seen little success and much hardship.
A familiar face greeted us. Lieutenant Nierev walked unevenly, and with the aid of a stick. Her expression was no less weary than her fellows, but she made an effort at cheerfulness. "Never thought I'd see you again."
"I could say much the same about you," I said. "You must be as stubborn as the old man."
Nierev shook her head. "No, I owe it entirely to Zorya." She looked around. "She not with you?"
"No. No, she's not."
Nierev picked up on my tone and didn't enquire further. Her eyes drifted away from mine to where Jaspyr and Fredrik had taken up station by the main door.
"I suppose you want to see the old man."
"Please. I won't tell him you called him that."
Nierev smiled thinly. "It wouldn't matter if you did. He's no attention for anything save the problem at hand." She touched me on the shoulder and led me towards the stairs. Constans and Arianwyn followed. When Nierev was sure we were out of earshot of everyone else, she continued in hushed tones. "To be honest, I'm worried about him. It's like he's taken this personally. I know he's mourning for the dead – we all are – but there's an anger too. I'm worried he'll something foolish, but I'd rather you didn't tell him I said so."
"I wouldn't think of it." I'd seen a little of what she'd described during the battle at the Estrina – just how bad had it become? Well, we'd soon find out.
Quintus' office, at least, was exactly as I remembered it from a few days ago, with its uneven floor and well-worn furniture. Quintus sat at his desk, a map of the city sprawled before him and the ever-present pipe in his hand. He was not alone. Lord Karov sat opposite. Both men were deep in conversation, but stopped when we entered the room.
"About time you showed up." Quintus waved us into empty seats. "We'd all but given up on you. Are the others downstairs?"
"They're not coming," Arianwyn said tersely.
I gave both men a potted version of what had happened since I'd last seen Quintus, although I passed over the subject of Jack and the bargain we'd struck. I wasn't happy about keeping that detail from Quintus, but I didn't know or trust Karov well enough. It seemed neither Arianwyn nor Constans disagreed, because they didn't seek to broach the subject. I said nothing about the prospect of bringing the Hadari army to the city – that would wait until I'd seen the lay of the land.
When I'd finished, Quintus took a long draw on his pipe and shook his head slowly. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't seem shocked. I'm sorry about the others, I really am. But we've lost a lot of good people in the last few hours, and I don't know that I've any feeling left to show."
"Has it gone that badly?" asked Constans.
Lord Karov answered tiredly. "There are some few thousands of citizens beyond the city wall. As far as we can tell, anyone else who lived south of the Silverway is dead. There might be handfuls still in hiding, I suppose. Even so..."
"Has there been any word from the north?" I asked Quintus.
"No. I sent a few runners out to the towers, and to the Pit. Half returned, and I don't think we'll ever see the rest again. We don't think the fallen have crossed the Silverway, but we don't know for sure. I have no idea if Solomon's cooperating or not. It could well be him that's silencing my runners."
That was a pleasant thought. "So Droshna holds the lower half of the city?"
"Aye, and all the towers by now. That's where they've put the bulk of their forces. I shouldn't complain, as we'd probably never have ev
acuated as many if the bulk of the army had been breathing down our necks, but it hurts us, and hurts us badly."
"They've taken the towers?" Constans asked. "How did they manage that so quickly? They're impregnable."
Quintus leaned forward. He didn't raise his voice, but the was a hard edge spoke of anger boiling beneath. "Because some idiot stripped back the number of defenders, that's why, and because Droshna sent those accursed revenants against them while we were playing games at the Estrina. He didn't need that crossing; he was only toying with us. The towers were designed to repel flesh and blood attackers, not ghosts who walk through walls and laugh at cold steel. What I wouldn't give for a chance to show that bastard just how clever I think he is."
"Were there any survivors?" I strove to get Quintus onto a safer subject. If Droshna came within Quintus' reach, it would be the commander who'd suffer for the meeting.
"Aye, a few, but nowhere near enough. Some are downstairs, others are holding the eastern gate. Most are outside the walls, trying to keep the civilians safe. They're probably the luckiest. They're too far away for me to give them orders."
"We've been over this, commander," Karov said calmly. "You're not to blame. These are extraordinary events."
Quintus snorted. I knew what he was thinking. The city had been the stony centre of the Tressian republic for generations. It had held firm against war and siege. Now it crumbled like a rotten tooth. I caught Nierev's eye. She'd warned me that Quintus might be on the verge of breaking. All I could promise was a little hope, so I explained where I was heading, and why.
Karov and Quintus took the news better than I'd expected. They were proud Tressians, and the idea of seeking salvation from an ancient enemy must have rankled them terribly. But then, both were desperate. Better a Tressia beholden to outsiders than one utterly destroyed. Even so, neither man was truly happy.
Karov was the first to speak. "You believe you can make this work?" His voice held only mild enquiry, rather than disbelief. He was a politician, adaptable to changing circumstance.
"I can try." If Karov wanted surety, he'd have to seek elsewhere.
Quintus stirred from thought. "How do we know we can trust your warleaders not to take advantage? Don't get me wrong, my lord, I'm all for a way out of this, but I wonder at the price."
"Oh for pity's sake!" Arianwyn sprang to her feet. The cold stare was back on her face, and she now focused it mercilessly on Karov and Quintus. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. We're on the edge of the city sliding into the Otherworld. This isn't going to stop until Death is defeated or the whole world is in his grasp." She was shouting now, her righteous anger radiating like a physical force. "If Edric can get the Hadari to help, the first question should be 'How can we ever thank them?' not 'How do we get rid of them again?' Priorities, gentlemen, priorities."
How Karov and Quintus didn't shrivel up on the spot I wasn't sure. Apparently they were made of sterner stuff than I'd suspected.
Karov even had enough courage left to argue. "Please understand, my dear; it is no simple thing to reach out to enemies cultivated so long, especially when the situation may yet be recoverable without their help. The potential consequences..."
His words stood less chance than a leaf in a gale. "Lord Karov, let me say again: thousands are dead; the city is all but lost; our nearest army is at least a week's march away. What potential consequences can possibly be worse than the reality we face?"
"We don't know that we can rely on them," Karov said flatly. "It's as simple as that. I don't want to go down in history as a trusting fool."
"Fine." Arianwyn gave Karov the full benefit of her stare. "You don't trust the Hadari. I'm not asking you to trust them, I'm telling you to trust Edric. Since this sorry mess began he's spared no effort to do the right thing. He could have walked away at any point; he could walk away now, but instead he's offering to put his people on the line alongside ours. And what does he get? Gratitude? No, his offer is met with suspicion and poorly-veiled insults. You should both be ashamed."
Karov cleared his throat and attempted a peremptory tone, but his heart wasn't in it. "Your advocacy is nothing short of impressive. But, I think we're all aware as to your feelings concerning the ambassador."
"Quite, quite." said Quintus.
Karov looked pleased, but only for a moment.
"But that doesn't mean she's wrong," said Quintus. "In fact, she's talking sense. The way I see things, it's better to go down in history as a trusting fool than a proud one. And the Hadari have as much to lose here as we do. It'll just take them longer to lose it, that's all." Quintus nodded at Arianwyn. "Besides, Lady Trelan's right about one thing: we don't have to trust every Hadari who lives and breathes, just the ambassador. If I'd trusted him a little sooner, maybe we wouldn't have had the need for this conversation. I'm prepared to trust him now."
Nierev unfolded herself from the corner. "As am I."
"And I," said Constans.
Karov rose and stabbed an angry finger down at Quintus. "It's not your decision to make. It's one for the council, and the council alone. Not this group of..." He threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't even know how to describe you!"
Not to be outdone, Quintus stood up and jabbed Karov in the chest with the stem of his pipe. "Actually, the 'council' – by which I mean you – put me in charge of the defence of the city. It's my decision and the only people I'm interested in consulting are in this room. I think they've made their opinions plain."
Karov bristled, but he'd lost, and he knew it. "You may regret this course."
"Aye, you're right," Quintus agreed, "but I'll have to be alive for that, and I'd say that was a fair trade." He turned to me. "Ambassador, I think it's fair to say the Tressian Republic officially offers the Hadari Empire an alliance, and requests their aid against a shared foe. Lord Karov will provide suitable documentation shortly, won't you, my lord?"
Karov seethed, but nodded.
"Well then." Quintus smiled for the first time since we'd entered the room. "That's all settled. Now, if you'll please excuse us, Lord Karov and I have a war to prosecute."
Arianwyn, Constans and I took the hint and allowed Nierev to show us into a room on the next floor down. "You may as well eat something whilst we're waiting. I'll send a runner to the east gate and have them prepare three horses."
"Actually, that had better be two horses," said Constans.
I shot him a questioning look.
He shrugged. "Quintus looks like a man preparing to go down with his ship, whether or not that ship is sinking. One of us should help Lieutenant Nierev keep an eye on him. I'm the obvious candidate. Besides, Jerack has a few ideas how we can give the Raven... I mean, Death... a few moments of pause." He smiled. "Anyway, if it all goes wrong, the three of us against a whole army won't give a terribly different outcome to the two of you alone against a whole army, is it?"
I saw the logic, but I didn't like the idea much. My friends were being stripped away from me in roughly the order I'd acquired them. A week ago I'd never have believed that such a thing could matter so much, but it did – it mattered a very great deal. I looked at Arianwyn and saw my own sadness reflected in her eyes.
"Very well," I said. "But no foolish risks."
Constans laughed. "And what makes you think that I'm ever going to make a promise like that?"
Eight
We left the guard house a few hours later, slipping away into the darkened mists without incident. Constans escorted us as far as the east gate. I was glad of his company. With Jamar and Zorya lost so abruptly, I was learning to appreciate those who remained.
As Quintus had promised, Lord Karov provided documents laying out the terms of an alliance between the Hadari Empire and the Tressian Republic. Indeed, they appeared to be most generous. If the accord was struck, Tressia would relinquish the contested territories along the Toriana Plains, as well as the fortress-port of Fathom Rock. That last part was particularly surprising, as Fathom Rock had lain in Tr
essian hands for over two hundred years. There was also the promise of mutual defence, favourable trade and the return of Kai Saran's crown.
Karov was either duplicitous or desperate. It almost didn't matter which – if those documents didn't tempt my people into entering this fight, nothing would.
What was interesting was that Karov didn't accompany us to the gate. I'd have thought his first instinct would be to get as far away from the advancing fallen as possible could, but apparently I'd misjudged him. When Arianwyn ventured the opinion that he'd be a better choice to conduct negotiations than she or I, Karov simply smiled and explained that he wouldn't abandon his city whilst hope remained. Either he didn't trust Quintus to do the job properly, or he'd no faith in the alliance coming to pass. Or just perhaps, he was a far nobler man than I gave him credit.
I didn't have an opportunity to say farewell to Quintus, because he'd vanished into the night whilst we'd been eating. A messenger had made it through from the north bank of the Silverway, or so Nierev told us, and Quintus had left shortly after. Nierev didn't know who'd sent the messenger, but it seemed likely he'd come from Solomon.
That, at least, was reason remain hopeful. I wouldn't have trusted Solomon to fight directly at my side, but I knew enough about him to believe that if he'd chosen to safeguard the northern end of the city, he'd do so – at least for a time.
The guard on the east gate gave us no trouble. Quintus' orders had reached them long before we arrived, and a pasty-faced constable, barely out of childhood, stood waiting with a pair of sturdy roan horses. The girl looked nervously at Jaspyr and Fredrik as they prowled around Arianwyn's feet, but kept her composure long enough to detail the provisions laid out in our saddlebags.
I estimated had enough food for three or four days travel. That was vastly more than we needed, as I hoped to be at the Hadari encampment in no more than seven or eight hours. The Toriana Plains made for good horse-country. Providing we made no major detours, the journey should have been swift and, above all, safe. On the other hand, assumptions of a similar nature had already caused me plenty of trouble in the last week, so I merely thanked the constable for her diligence and then left the city that had been my home for these past six months.
Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1) Page 40
