Another army, she thought, ruefully.
“On your feet,” the guards snapped. “The city wants to see you.”
“Please, no,” a woman shouted, as Elaine rose. “Please …”
The guards ripped her shirt away, revealing her bare breasts. Elaine looked away as the crowd cat-called, mocking the poor woman. The guards prodded Elaine with their staffs, forcing her to stumble forward. She reminded herself that she’d survived worse – Millicent had been very inventive, back at school – and shuffled forwards. Once she had her magic back …
And the others are still out there, she reminded herself. They’re free.
Chapter Nine
“It’s Alfred,” Sarah said, curtly. “The bastard launched a coup.”
Johan scowled. They’d left the apartment at daybreak, after stealing a set of clothes from their unwilling host, and made it back to the inn, only to discover that Elaine and a number of other foreign guests had been marched off by the crowd. Johan had spent several minutes trying to reach Elaine through the mental bond, yet there had been no response beyond a vague feeling she was still alive. He’d wanted to go rushing off after her at once, but Dread had told him to wait, eat and see what the Leveller spies found out. They’d need a plan before they risked a rescue mission.
“I’m not familiar with the name,” Dread said, after a moment. “Who is he?”
“A magician,” Sarah said. Her voice dripped disdain. “Claims to be a first-rank sorcerer; I don’t know if it’s true or if he’s just posturing. He was born here, but lived in the Golden City for at least ten years before returning and setting himself up as an adviser to some of the City Fathers, eventually getting himself nominated to the Council despite being” – her lips twisted – “a dirty foreigner. In some minds, at least.”
“He was born here,” Johan said, crossly.
“Anyone who doesn’t spend his entire life here can be called a dirty foreigner,” Sarah said, darkly. “It’s stupid, but it’s the way it is.”
She glared down at the table as if it had personally offended her. “He must have had some kind of contingency plan, because he had his people out on the streets within moments of the bridges going up in flames and most of the rest of the Council in his grasp,” she added, after a moment. “Right now, he controls the City Guard and a small army of baboons who hate foreigners and want to kill them all.”
Johan sucked in his breath. “I thought this city depended on foreign trade.”
“It does,” Dread confirmed. “And how long will it be before others start an uprising against Alfred?”
It took Johan a moment to work out the implications. “Civil war,” he said. “The city will be torn apart.”
“Leaving nothing to stop Deferens from walking into the remains and taking over,” Dread said, curtly. He looked at Sarah. “Have you found Elaine?”
“Not yet,” Sarah said. “A number of the prisoners are being paraded around the streets, just to make it clear that they’re being purged. Alfred … isn’t particularly subtle about how he wields power.”
Johan looked up as Daria stepped into the room, looking tired. “Daria!”
“It’s good to see you,” Daria said. She wore a robe that was several sizes too small for her, but looked too tired to care. “Elaine’s been taken.”
“We know,” Johan said.
“She was in the park, held captive,” Daria said. “I don’t think she’s in a good state.”
“So we rescue her,” Johan said.
“It won’t be easy,” Daria said. “There were over a hundred guards and at least three magicians, counting Alfred himself. They snapped her wand.”
Dread took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Alfred is trying to trigger a civil war,” he said, shortly. “If he was determined merely to take and hold power for himself, he would have rounded up all his possible opponents. Instead, he’s left a number of them free while gathering all the foreigners in the city. He hasn’t even taken hostages!”
“That’s our conclusion,” Sarah said. “It won’t be long before the merchants start building armies and fighting back. The city will die without trade.”
“But that’s what he wants,” Dread said. “The only way to win this is to cut off the head of the snake – in this case, Alfred himself.”
“Good luck,” Sarah said, sarcastically. “He’s a powerful magician and he’s always surrounded by guards.”
Dread’s lips twitched. “A powerful magician wouldn’t be surrounded by guards,” he said, dryly. “He’d know far more useful protections than swordsmen.”
“My father never had guards,” Johan agreed. He looked at Dread. “I could go after him …”
“And get yourself killed,” Dread said. He looked at Sarah. “Where is Alfred now?”
“He spent some time addressing the crowd, then returned to the City House,” Sarah said. “I assume the rest of the City Fathers are inside, but we don’t know for sure. The handful of staff has been told to stay home and wait for further orders.”
“But we know where he is,” Dread said, slowly. “Could you get something into the building?”
Johan looked at him, sharply. “That barrel of Firepowder?”
“Yes,” Dread said, shortly. “It worked on the Watchtower, where there were so many protections woven into the walls that I would have bet my magic that nothing dangerous could break through easily. Here … I imagine the explosion would be an even greater surprise.”
Sarah looked doubtful. “You’d be practically advertising what happened to the Watchtower to everyone.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Dread said.
“We could try to free Elaine instead,” Daria offered. “You two could pose as guardsmen, then slip up to her and break her out of the pillory. There’s no reason to stay here any longer …”
“They’d know you didn’t have permission to free her,” Sarah countered. “Alfred was very insistent that all dirty foreigners remain imprisoned until they could be killed.”
“Instead of simply killing them all immediately,” Dread said. He shook his head, slowly. “Alfred definitely wants a civil war.”
Johan closed his eyes, reaching out to Elaine again. This time, there was a faint hint of a response before it faded away into nothingness. She was alive, at least, but not in a good state. What had happened to her?
If they’ve hurt her, I’ll kill them personally, he vowed. Elaine had been the first person to show any concern for him, unlike his family. I’ll make them suffer …
“We need to see the City House,” Dread said. “Can we pass unnoticed?”
“As long as you don’t open your mouths,” Sarah said. She rose to her feet, smoothing down her dirty dress. “You both sound as though you’re from the Golden City.”
“I don’t,” Johan protested. He’d only spent a few months in the city before they’d fled and the only people he’d spoken to, really, were his family. Not that he’d want to sound like Jamal in any case. He’d need to stick something smelly under his nose if he wanted to try, then walk around with his head in the air. “I sound like …”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dread said. He deepened his accent, sounding alarmingly like Sarah’s father. “Keep your mouth closed unless it’s urgent.”
Johan nodded, reluctantly. “Yes, sir,” he said.
The streets seemed darker, somehow, as they walked out of the inn, Daria following them in wolf form. Small groups of people were gathering together, muttering so quietly that he couldn’t hear anything beyond a faint sound, but Daria looked alarmed. It took him a moment to realise that very few women were on the streets. He couldn’t help remembering the nightmarish days when they’d hidden from Deferens’ forces in the Golden City. Were they doomed to keep their heads down for the rest of their lives, knowing that a single mistake might betray them? Or would they find the Witch-King and destroy him?
Maybe not, if we can’t get out of the city, he thought. We might end
up trapped here until Deferens arrives to kill us.
He gritted his teeth as he saw a handful of prisoners, their hands trapped in wooden planks resting on their shoulders, being marched down the streets. Elaine wasn’t among them, thankfully, but his heart went out to the helpless men and women. He’d been helpless far too often in his life, thanks to Jamal, and he knew he’d hated it. And the prisoners had done nothing wrong, beyond being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn’t deserve to be treated like this.
“Hold your peace,” Dread whispered. “You don’t want to be caught.”
City House came into view slowly, a brooding mass that reminded him of some of the guildhouses in the Golden City. A dozen guards stood outside, weapons in hand, watching as a team of craftsmen slowly put together a giant gallows. It was larger than any Johan had seen – it wasn’t common to hang more than one prisoner at a time – but there could be no doubting its purpose. The foreigners were going to be ruthlessly purged from the city …
And he’s moving supplies into the building, Johan thought, as he saw a cart being unloaded at the side entrance. There was enough food there to feed a small army, while a dozen other carts were waiting to be unloaded. Is he planning to hold a party or stocking up in expectation of a siege?
Dread watched the guards for a few minutes, then led Johan on a circuit around the building and back towards the inn. Daria followed, the werewolf sniffing the air constantly, as if she were searching for Elaine. Johan reached for Elaine again, mentally, and felt a stronger pulse. She was alive, but trapped. Something was interfering with the bond.
“We’re going to have to get the barrel into the building,” Dread said, once they were back at the inn. Bill and Sarah met them there. “There’s nothing magical in the Firepowder, is there?”
“No,” Bill said. “But they’d certainly think something was odd if they saw it.”
Dread looked at Sarah. “Where’s he getting the food?”
“His men have raided a couple of foreigner-owned warehouses,” Sarah said, shortly. “A herald announced that everyone is invited to a party, after the foreigners are butchered.”
“So he isn’t even preparing for a siege,” Dread said. He smiled, rather darkly. “How many barrels of beer do you have here?”
“Twenty-five,” Sarah said. She smiled at his shocked expression. “My father believes in maintaining a stockpile.”
“We need to donate some to Alfred,” Dread said. “Put the barrel of Firepowder in the middle of the load, then surround it with barrels of beer. There won’t be any magic on the barrel to alert him when it passes through his wards, so the guards will only take a cursory look.”
“Particularly if it looks as though we’re trying to curry favour with him,” Sarah said. “But my father will be furious.”
She sighed. “And once we get them into City House,” she added, “how do we set up the explosion?”
Dread hesitated. “I can … Daria can brew a very basic heating potion,” he said. “We can buy the ingredients at the apothecary. Done properly, it won’t register as dangerous magic, but it will catch fire at the right time. And that will trigger the explosion.”
“Too chancy,” Sarah objected. “The explosion might not go off at the right time – or go off at once, if you blunder with the potion.”
“I won’t blunder,” Daria said, angrily.
Dread gave Sarah a long look. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Use a timed candle,” Sarah said. “I have several here for guests. It shouldn’t be hard to rig an oil dish to catch fire when the flame reaches the bottom, triggering the explosion.”
“Test it,” Dread ordered. He didn’t sound convinced. Johan wasn’t surprised. Magic was reliable, but Firepowder was something else. “The rest of us will start loading up the cart.”
It was nearly thirty minutes before the barrel of Firepowder was placed in the centre of the cart and surrounded by eight barrels of beer. Sarah’s father, as she’d warned, had been furious when he’d heard the plan, although he was clearly determined to stop Alfred before he could kill off the tourist trade. Johan privately doubted that anyone would want to visit Falcone’s Nest after foreigners had been rounded up, publicly humiliated and then prepared for execution, but he kept that thought to himself. Given that Deferens was only a few days from the city, it was very likely a moot point anyway.
“It seems to work,” Dread said, doubtfully. Sarah had rigged up an oil dish for the candle, then worked out a way to hide it within the barrel. “And if it fails …?”
“We can sneak back into the building and try something else,” Sarah said. “At worst, one of us can drop a lighted taper into the barrel.”
“Blowing yourself up too,” Dread pointed out.
Sarah rounded on him. “I understand the risks,” she snapped. “And I understand what will happen to us if Alfred keeps his hand on the city’s throat. So shut up and let me work unless you have a better idea.”
Johan sighed. “Calm down, everyone,” he said. Dread had been used to spending days without sleep, when he’d had his magic. Did he realise he couldn’t do that any longer? Johan had once tried to stay awake for three days, but by the time the third day began he’d been zoning in and out constantly and eventually collapsed. “This isn’t the time to fight.”
“Very well,” Sarah said, tartly. She glanced out of the window. “It’s midday. We’d better get this cart out before it’s too late.”
Dread nodded. “Let’s go,” he said. “Johan?”
Johan closed his eyes, trying – again – to reach Elaine. It felt strange; there were brief bursts of emotion, ranging from boredom to humiliation, which faded out as he tried to contact her directly. For a moment, his head swam and he felt sick. Something was badly wrong with her, even if she wasn’t in immediate danger.
“I can feel her, but I can’t touch her,” he said.
Sarah gave him an odd look. “What?”
“They have a bond,” Dread explained, curtly.
“Better not tell anyone else,” Sarah muttered. “It would be hard for you to convince them that Elaine’s marrying someone on the other side of the world.”
Johan flushed, brightly.
Sarah laughed, then led the way out to the cart. Johan scrambled up beside the barrels – the Firepowder barrel looked normal, just like the others – and squashed into the railing as Dread climbed up and sat next to him. The former Inquisitor looked surprisingly comfortable wearing the clothes Sarah had provided, even if they were unfortunately rank. Johan disliked them – even as a Powerless, he’d worn finer clothes – but he had to admit they looked the part of a pair of workmen. Maybe he’d be taken as Dread’s son …
He could hardly be a worse father than mine, he thought, suddenly.
The cart rolled to life, picking its way through the crowded streets. Several people seemed to have started small parties, handing out beer and snacks while they waited for news from the City House. A number were even talking about how wonderful it was to be able to live without dirty foreigners; Johan wondered, absently, if they were hired shills, people paid to endorse Alfred and his extermination plans at every opportunity. His father hadn’t taught him much about politics – no one had ever expected him to become a politician – but Johan had learnt a few things. Alfred had probably learnt more at the Peerless School.
He nudged Dread as a thought occurred to him. “Did Alfred go to the Peerless School?”
“I don’t know,” Dread said. “I did wonder, but it would be hard to fake the graduation paperwork.”
“He isn’t in the Golden City,” Johan objected.
“He isn’t on the other side of the world either,” Dread pointed out. “One of his political enemies could easily send to the Golden City to check his records, if he wished.”
The cart rolled to a halt as it turned into City Square. Johan watched the guards strolling towards them and braced himself. If they were caught …
“
I’ve brought beer for the party,” Sarah said, cheerfully. She’d adjusted her dress so it showed off more of her cleavage. The guards didn’t even try to pretend they weren’t looking at the sight. “Where would you like me to put it?”
“Everything’s going into the hall,” the guard grunted. “Is it good beer?”
“The best,” Sarah assured him. There was a flirtatious tone to her voice Johan wouldn’t have believed possible, if he hadn’t heard it. “My father wants his name on the official record.”
“Then report to the office when you’re done,” the guard said. He gave the cart a cursory once-over, then waved them through. “Call us if you happen to need any help, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart,” Sarah muttered, as soon as they were out of earshot. “I’d sooner kiss a pig.”
They parked the cart behind another, then waited until it was their turn to unload. Johan and Dread carried the barrels, one by one, into the hall, then lit the candle as soon as the last barrel was in place. Johan wanted to run at once – he was uncomfortably aware that the candle wasn’t anything like as accurate as magic – but Dread kept a hand on his arm as they walked back out of the building. The guards looked at them and snickered unpleasantly.
“Make sure you get a lot of work out of him,” one called.
“My son wants to see the dirty foreigners,” Dread said. “But he’s going to help me bring the rest of the beer first.”
“Don’t worry, young man,” the guard said, as his companion laughed. “The prisoners will be marched past the gallows in all their glory before they’re finally killed. You can see them die.”
Johan – somehow – managed to keep his mouth tightly shut as Dread shoved him back onto the cart. Elaine was in danger and he could do nothing, but wait. And if something went wrong …
We could die here, he thought. He tried to reach Elaine again, but couldn’t do more than feel a faint echo of her emotions. And if we do, the Witch-King wins.
Full Circle Page 9
