by James Evans
Stamina was his main worry at the moment. Months of captivity and bad food had left him physically weakened and in bad shape and he knew that it had been sheer luck that he had survived his recent fights unscathed. Now, with good food and regular exercise, his form was improving but there was still a lot to do before he would be back to his fighting strength.
Weapons were also a concern. He spent several evenings working on Bone Dancer, tweaking the ironwork to better handle the power that was focussed into the weapon or finessing the shape of the wood so that it sat more comfortably in his hands.
One evening he spent several hours replacing the half-pound of lead in the base of the staff with the few ounces of tungsten he had taken from Hitton’s stash. That made Bone Dancer a little lighter but also, more importantly, boosted the amount of power that the weapon could store. Then, by tweaking the copper netting worked into the wood, he improved the rate at which Bone Dancer could gather power. By the time he was finished Bone Dancer was all that he could have hoped for, a truly formidable weapon.
The blades were another matter altogether. His knives and the sword he had taken from the watchman in the forest were plain steel, quick to blunt or wear and prone to rust and decay. Given time and materials he would be able to turn these blades from simple steel to something more dangerous and less readily damaged. In the short-term, what he really wanted was a good sword with a hardened blade but such things simply weren’t to be found in Vensille. In the end he stuck with the stolen Imperial blade and resolved to improve it once he had a little more time. It was a simple weapon but also familiar and hugely effective.
He had had more success with defensive charms. Eaves had found him a second bracer so he now wore one on each arm. They were small and uneven, having been made by different craftsmen, but they delivered a solid degree of protection. He would greatly have preferred to have one of his armoured suits - he had several sets stashed in safe locations around the Empire - but their recovery would be risky and, without the appropriate key, potentially very dangerous. Much of his planning focussed on re-acquiring one of his suits or making a replacement but, for now, he could only leave them where they were and hope to recover them in the future.
On their third day in the house the charmsman that Eaves had recommended arrived with two apprentices to begin work on the hardening of the doors and windows. Marrinek walked through the house with him explaining exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it done. The man was sceptical, hostile even, but it was soon clear that Marrinek knew what he was talking about. The work, he said, would take a week and cost a good deal of money. They agreed a fee for an immediate start and then Marrinek left them to it, promising to check their work later in the day.
It turned out that the work was good and the three men made rapid progress, hardening all the doors and windows on the ground and first floor within a few days. Marrinek took a keen interest in their work but it seemed that Eaves had chosen well. He wasn’t able to fault the results or break the charmed wood. When they had finished working on the house he announced himself well-satisfied with their work, paid them a bonus, then set them to work on the stables and gates.
On the fifth day Aimes introduced the rest of the staff that she had hired to help her manage the household and announced that she now had everyone she needed to ensure that it would run to her satisfaction. The house itself took on an air of bustle and life as Aimes continued to furnish the rooms and corridors. She acquired a number of charmed lamps to replace the candles that lit the hallways and public rooms.
The tailor made several more visits to confirm details and measurements and then he began to deliver the formal clothes that Madame Duval had commissioned for Marrinek and the twins. He also delivered a selection of everyday summer clothes, outfits for riding, city cloaks and garments cut to match the latest fashions. By the time he had finished the twins had more clothes than they had ever owned and even Marrinek was starting to think that Madame Duval may have been a little extravagant, although there was no denying that the clothes were of excellent quality.
They had been in the new house for eleven days and everyone was beginning to settle into a routine when the first signs of the danger that Marrinek had feared appeared on their doorstep. Marrinek and the twins were eating an early dinner after a long day of staff fighting. The twins had improved quickly and Marrinek had acquired two sets of padded jackets and helmets so that they could spar together. Darek, not surprisingly, was stronger and more aggressive but Floost’s footwork was faster and she would often win bouts if she was able to avoid her brother’s bludgeoning attacks.
This evening their dinner was interrupted by the butler, Shaldring, who came quietly into the dining room as they were finishing the meat course.
“Excuse me, sir, but Mr Eaves is in the drawing room. He is very keen to speak to you; a matter of some urgency, he says.”
“Eaves is here?” said Marrinek, frowning, “Strange. Very well, Shaldring, I’ll see him now.”
Marrinek stood up from the table and walked with Shaldring to the hallway.
“Thank you, Shaldring, that will be all.” Shaldring bowed as Marrinek opened the doors to the drawing room and went inside, closing them behind him.
Eaves was standing in front of the fireplace looking at a landscape that Aimes had acquired from an auction the day before. Marrinek didn’t particularly like the picture but he had to admit that it seemed to fit the room.
“Good evening, Mr Eaves. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Eaves turned as Marrinek spoke and hurried across the room. He seemed to be shaking, nervous.
“There was a woman, sir, she came to my shop. Looking for you.” Eaves spoke quickly, stumbling over the words.
“Slow down, Eaves. Here, sit and tell me everything.” Marrinek directed him to a chair and poured two glasses of brandy from the decanter on the side table. Eaves accepted the glass with trembling hands and sipped.
“I was finishing for the day, about to close up, when a woman came in.” Eaves paused to take another sip of brandy.
“She was tall, talented, beautiful. She had an accent, just like yours. She asked about Imperial citizens buying charms or supplies.”
Marrinek sat opposite Eaves but didn’t drink his brandy. His eyes narrowed at Eaves’ description.
“Did she ask for me by name?”
“No,” said Eaves shaking his head, “but she described you - height, hair colour, staff. She didn’t mention the beard,” - he paused to throw back the rest of his brandy - “and she didn’t believe me when I denied knowing you. She knew I was lying, said she’d cut out my eyeballs if I didn’t tell her where you were. And she was strong, very strong. You could see it in her face, as if she could have killed me without effort or thought.”
Marrinek sat back thinking.
“I have many enemies, Eaves, but I hadn’t thought they would follow me here or find me quite so soon. Did she leave a name?”
“Naseep. She said you should call on her at the house of a trader, Blucher.”
“I don’t know either of those names. Do you know this man, Blucher?”
Eaves nodded.
“A merchant dealing in charms and materials. And sometimes other, darker, goods, or so I hear. I avoid him, not because he isn’t talented, but because he is just isn’t very nice.”
“Well, I think maybe I should pay him a visit and see what this Naseep wants with me.” He stood up and took the empty glass from Eaves.
“Thank you for coming to me with this and for keeping my secret; I won’t forget. I think we’ll postpone this evening’s lesson with the twins while I sort out this matter.”
Eaves gave him directions to Blucher’s house then scuttled back out onto the street, disappearing quickly into the early evening gloom. Marrinek went back to the dining room where the maids had cleared the main course and were setting out a summer pudding with custard and a jug of coffee.
“That was Mr Eaves,” said Marrin
ek, “with disturbing news.” The twins looked up from their puddings, intrigued.
“I’m going to have to deal with this before it gets out of hand. I’ve postponed your lesson this evening - Eaves isn’t really up to it - and you’ll need to stay in.”
Marrinek sipped at his coffee.
“I’ll be going out shortly but I should be back later this evening.”
“What sort of problem is it?” said Floost.
“The sort I need to fix quickly,” said Marrinek, “finish your dinner then stay upstairs till morning; everything should be resolved by then.”
He stood up from the table and headed for the door then turned back.
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling, “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Then he closed the door behind him and went upstairs, still pondering Eaves and his encounter with Naseep.
Adrava’s stroll through the city took a good while and when she got back to the house she found a new dress waiting for her in her room. The style wasn’t one she would have chosen but it followed the local fashions and would certainly look less out of place than her novice robes. She washed quickly in the basin and changed into the new dress, admiring her new look in the small mirror on the wash stand. The dress was cut quite low, as was the local fashion, and it had long loose sleeves, which was lucky since they would hide her bracers. She stood there for a few minutes adjusting her charms and then slipped her shoes back on and went downstairs.
In the sitting room she found Flince.
“How do I look?” she asked, smiling and giving a little twirl.
“Very nice miss, the master will be pleased. Will you take coffee?”
“Yes Flince, thank you, coffee would be lovely. And maybe some of those little cakes you had yesterday - they were delicious.”
Flince nodded and left the room leaving Adrava alone. She wandered around the room looking at ornaments and pictures but after a few minutes she grew bored and went to sit in the seat by the window. Watching the people in the street occupied her for a few minutes until Flince arrived with the coffee and cakes and closed the curtains against the deepening gloom.
Adrava sat there drinking coffee and nibbling on the cakes, waiting for something to happen. When the door to the sitting room did eventually open she jumped, startled by the arrival of Blucher who came in and took the seat on the other side of the window.
“Ah, coffee. Excellent, it has been a trying day.”
Adrava smiled sweetly at him as he poured coffee but she didn’t ask questions; she found that she really didn’t care what sort of day Blucher had had but for the sake of appearances, she looked questioningly at him.
“I had lunch with a friend of mine, a merchant who imports spices,” Blucher said. Adrava zoned out almost immediately as he continued to tell a long, boring story in excruciating detail. She smiled and nodded at what seemed like appropriate intervals but dear god he was dull. And he kept leering at her, eyes lingering on the flesh exposed by the low-cut dress.
By the time that Flince announced dinner a little while later Blucher was still going, describing his entire day. He took Adrava's arm and escorted her to the dining room, pulling out the chair for her to sit before taking his place at the head of the table, all without interrupting the flow of his tale. It was something of a relief when Flince came back into the room and announced a visitor for her.
“For me?” said Adrava, feigning surprise, “but who could know that I was here? Do you have a name?”
“He gave his name as ‘Bay’, miss. He is in the sitting room.”
Adrava put down her cutlery, stood up with a new sense of purpose and moved toward the door, face set.
“What is all this?” said Blucher, confused, “Where are you going? You said you didn’t know anyone in Vensille!”
She turned to face him as she held the door open, smiling as if at a private joke.
“Why don’t you come and meet him? I’m sure he’ll want to meet you.”
Blucher stood up, angry now.
“What’s going on? I demand to know.”
Adrava ignored him and walked down the hallway to the sitting room, throwing open the door. Marrinek was standing with his back to the door looking at some of Blucher’s books, a staff leaning against a chair. He turned as she came in and then his jaw dropped when he recognised her.
“Addy,” he said, stunned, before a smile came over his face, “I should have guessed.” He rushed across the room, arms wide, grinning like a schoolboy, and was utterly unprepared for her slap.
It caught him full in the face, a great, wheeling, open-handed blow that came from nowhere, as soon as he stepped close enough. Blucher, watching from the doorway, seemed almost as shocked as Marrinek.
“What the fuck did you do, you bastard?” screamed Adrava, venting her long-contained rage and clearly winding up for more violence, “And where the fuck have you been?”
Marrinek stepped back, surprised by her fury, and raised a hand to his cheek.
“Do? What did I do? Nothing! Nothing at all, it was a bloody setup.” He was angry himself, now; this wasn’t at all how he had imagined their reunion.
“They came for me too, you know,” she said, striding forward, fists clenched, “the inquisition and their bloody questions.”
Marrinek paled.
“They did?” he whispered, all the fight driven from him by a sudden fear.
“Yes, they did, and it was only by luck that I escaped.”
Marrinek collapsed back into a seat with relief and shook his head.
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly, “they wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t tell me anything, wouldn’t even tell me why I had been arrested.”
Adrava paused, her anger receding in the face of Marrinek’s obvious discomfort and remorse.
“So why?” she said eventually, switching to Khem and speaking in a calmer, more controlled tone. Marrinek shook his head again.
“I wish I knew,” he said, following her move from Gheel, “someone must have got to Tentalus, lied to him, presented false evidence maybe, because I didn’t do a fucking thing.” He stood up and took Adrava’s hand. “I promise you, I didn’t do anything to give offence.”
She stood for a moment, looking at him, then nodded in acceptance. That seemed to break the bubble around them and suddenly the outside world rushed back to reassert itself.
“What the fuck is going on?” said Blucher from the doorway, angrily trying to recapture the initiative, “And who the hell is this?”
“This, Mr Blucher, is Bay. My husband, for better or worse.”
“Your husband? I don’t understand, do you mean you’re married?”
Adrava laughed but there was no amusement in her voice.
“Yes, if you can still call it ‘marriage’ when you haven’t seen your husband for almost two years and you’ve spent all that time in hiding, scared for your life, wondering if today will be your last day of freedom.”
She turned back to Marrinek and swallowed the worst of her rage.
“We need to help Tentalus,” said Marrinek earnestly in Khem as Adrava opened her mouth to speak, “someone set me up, got both of us away from Khemucasterill and now he’s in danger from some sort of conspiracy. He needs our help.”
“Fuck him,” said Adrava, still speaking Gheel, her anger rising again, “it’s his fault we’ve lost everything we had, that we’re stuck out here.” Marrinek just shrugged.
“He’s my friend.”
Adrava stared at him, horrified. Then she took a deep breath.
“We will talk about this later,” she promised through clenched teeth, her anger still obvious but now controlled, refined by new knowledge, “and you can explain everything. Then, if your misplaced sense of loyalty doesn’t drive me to kill you myself, we can work out what to do about Tentalus.” Marrinek looked at her for a few long seconds, then nodded in resignation.
Adrava relaxed a little. She forced a thin smile then looked
at Blucher, still standing in the doorway, frozen by shock and uncertainty.
“We need a little privacy, if you please, Mr Blucher. Have Flince bring coffee and cakes.”
“What?” said Blucher, outraged, his cheeks turning an unhealthy red colour, “How dare you order me around in my own house!”
Marrinek walked to the door to stand immediately in front of Blucher, towering over the fat merchant and glaring down at him.
“Go away,” he hissed, “send cakes.”
Then Marrinek pushed the door gently but firmly closed leaving him alone, at last, with Adrava.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THE MAN STOOD on a stretch of high wall near a gatehouse, looking inward at the blasted city. Below, the fighting still raged as his troops pushed steadily inwards, swarming through buildings and narrow streets, hunting down and killing the last of the defenders. The siege had taken too long, far too long, but now it was coming to an end and the final small pockets of resistance were being rapidly eliminated.
Resplendent in his armour and with a long sword at his side, the man looked up at the gatehouse, the site of terrible violence only a short while earlier. Little now remained of the once-imposing building except a pile of broken rubble over which his forces still streamed. Even now, with the battle not yet finished, his surveyors were examining the remains of the gatehouse and planning the work required to rebuild it. The would make it, bigger and more secure, stronger and grander, taller and more easily defended. They would make it an entrance fit to bear the name ‘Emperor’s Gate’.
He descended the steps to the street and, surrounded by guards dressed in blue, he strode along the main avenue, taking in the sights as he headed for the temple-palace complex at the centre of city. He passed the grand villas and mansions of the rich and powerful, their doors broken in, their luxurious contents strewn across the streets, the bodies of their former owners occasionally visible amongst the destruction. Between the palaces, smaller roads led away from the main avenue and down these streets he saw sporadic fights, the remnants of the city’s forces being swept up and pushed back and annihilated.
