by Tom Lloyd
‘And you call this good news?’ she said icily. ‘You pushed them to blow up the keep causing scores of my people to die?’
‘No, Your Majesty, not good news, but they were past negotiating and ready to move. The Charneler agents were likely all safely underground already, in the labyrinth and preparing to break into the North Keep from underneath. That’s why it blew the way it did.’
‘So my trusted adviser is dead and you forced a hasty reaction that will lead to many hundreds more dying?’
Toil took a step forward. ‘They were doing it anyway, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to blow it so fast – you knew there was an entrance in the keep and had walled it up again in the event of people getting in. This way, they couldn’t have had time to signal the army. The Charneler army won’t be ready for a full assault. You’d want to have a day at least before moving an entire army straight to a direct attack.’
The Monarch leaned forward. ‘I’m told that’s exactly what they’re readying to do right now, under cover of darkness.’
‘But it’ll be a mess and you’ll be able to crush it – the last thing any soldier wants is to run across open ground without artillery support. You’ll have defenders waiting with grenade throwers, burners and sparkers. That’s a hellish long way to go under fire, especially when you’re basically a disordered rabble.’
‘Where are your infiltrators now? Did they escape?’
‘They’re in the labyrinth,’ Toil said. ‘We’ve got to make ready and go in after them before they get too much of a lead.’
‘Assuming they do not plan any more sabotage. I will have your expedition troops assembled at once.’
‘I need to lead an advance party first – the last thing we need is to tramp a hundred soldiers into a Duegar ruin before we know what’s down there and right now you’re going to need your soldiers up top.’
The Monarch leaned forward. ‘Then I suggest you get moving, I intend to throw everything I can spare at this problem, right down to all of the pots and pans in my palace if necessary. I have two agents ready to accompany you now and more waiting with your mercenaries at the Fountain. Your only mission is the saboteurs, mind – hunt them down so they can cause no more damage.’
‘Why do we not simply wait for Bade to resurface?’ Lastani said. ‘All the entrances are within the city, the two most northerly ones destroyed.’
‘Assuming he doesn’t just wait for the Charnelers to take the city?’ Toil shrugged. ‘If I was him, I’d have kept back one bombardment sphere as collateral – or use it to wipe out anyone waiting outside a particular entrance.’
‘I can flood the labyrinth with troops once the attack is fought off,’ the Crown-Princess said. ‘We leave nothing to chance, though; I intend to stop the Knights-Charnel while you both hunt and kill Bade. If he knows the trick to warding off the guardian spirits Lastani has described, I assume you do too, Toil?’
‘There’ll be a simple method,’ Toil confirmed. ‘I’ve seen similar things elsewhere so with a mage or two on hand, yeah, I’m willing to bet my life there.’
‘What more do you need?’
‘Lastani, you’re all set with your books? Good, my kit’s ready – I’ve got two lamps and Sitain has a third.’ She paused and pointed up at the bright trio of egg-shaped lamps above them. ‘I could do with one of those, however.’
The Monarch looked startled at the suggestion. ‘One of the palace treasures?’
‘The more people I take, the more they’ll need normal light. Ask Lynx here how much fun it is to run around in the black with only the dark-lamps. Folk get scratchy surrounded by darkness.’
Stilanna gave Lynx a look, but didn’t bother asking. The value of the oval lamp was likely enormous, but she had others and if it helped save the city, she wasn’t going to waste time debating.
‘Very well, have it taken down.’
Toil turned to her companions. ‘Right – now I just need a sober company of idiots willing to follow me down into the labyrinth.’
Kas gave a brief laugh. ‘It might be best if they ain’t sober for that, but we’ll see what we can do.’
‘Pick me a scout group, ten or so – have the rest assemble to follow with the Bridge Watch troops. I mean to heavily outnumber Bade when we find him.’
‘Pots and pans, right,’ Lynx agreed. ‘Safir should be rounding up experienced hands to bring to the Fountain, I’ll hurry them up and leave instructions for the rest.’
‘So you’re in?’ Toil asked, her tone neutral. Lynx instinctively bristled but realised she wasn’t needling him.
‘Better’n sitting on my thumbs round here,’ he said with forced levity.
‘There’s work above ground too.’
‘Aye – a full assault on a city. I may have my issues with being underground, but I’ve seen a city fight too and that’s no picnic. If I get to choose, I’ll choose the deepest black alongside folk I know. Besides, Sitain’ll probably shoot herself in the head if I’m not there to watch her. Just don’t give me time to think too hard about it, eh?’
‘Very good,’ the Monarch said and stood. ‘We have limited time to react. Lesser-Prince Por has taken the first reinforcements to the wall – the City Watch is being mobilised as we speak. Tylom, you will take charge of the troops being mobilised in the noble district. I want you to lead cavalry out at first light to harry the enemy. Their camp must be hastily organised – disrupt and distract them as best you can.’
The Crown-Prince bowed to his wife and swept out without a word, his bodyguard and a few courtiers following along in his wake.
‘And the Red Scarves?’ Toil enquired.
‘Are of little immediate use,’ the Monarch replied, ‘being, as they are, currently disarmed and half of them billeted outside the city walls. Commander Deshar is making arrangements to recall them safely, but the Knights-Charnel are moving to encircle the city. It may have to be done by boat and that presents new challenges. The Senate Voice will ensure they’re reunited with their weapons, but there are more pressing concerns. Take my seal and warrant,’ she said, indicating for a courtier to come forward with a small leather purse. ‘Your letters of recommendation are acknowledged and accepted,’ the Monarch added pointedly. Clearly she didn’t intend to mention even in this closed gathering where the letters came from, but the intent in her eyes was clear. ‘Should you fail to honour the terms of your employment, know that there are measures in place to exact reparation.’
Toil didn’t look surprised by the statement, though to Lynx it was a clear threat to inflict death and destruction on Su Dregir. ‘Can’t promise I’ll succeed, just that I’ll try and I’ll be fighting your cause.’
‘See that you do. Now go.’
Chapter 21
Toil stopped outside Envoy Ammen’s townhouse and looked at her two new companions. A local man and woman, Elei and Suth – both wearing Bridge Watch uniforms, but with a hard way about them that spoke of a darker trade.
The dark-haired Elei was a compact, swarthy man with the bearing of a knife-fighter, while the fairer Suth was slim and only average height, but the more dangerous in Toil’s opinion. She wore at least four mage-pistols under her greatcoat compared to Elei’s one, while the look in her eye was one Toil recognised. That faintly distant, aloof air of one who saw sight-lines and angles as naturally as breathing – who carried multiple guns for rapid firing and hadn’t shot themselves yet. Toil had met a few of the other sort too, but experience told her Suth knew what she was about.
‘Best you two stay here.’
‘Not our orders,’ said the woman firmly. ‘We’re sticking with you.’
‘I’ve got a loose end to tie up here,’ Toil said. ‘Su Dregir business, best you’re not present.’
‘Are you mad? We’re chasing your man’s fucking tail as it is! Anything else can wait.’
‘Two minutes – it’ll take that long for my crew to grab their shit and, in case I don’t come back, this has to be done.’
<
br /> The pair looked at each other. ‘Two minutes, no more.’
The townhouse was mostly dark as Toil hurried in, just a light in one of the top windows where Ammen’s clerks slept. She took that as a good sign. If they were still ill most likely they’d be asleep, it was late in the evening and normally they’d be at their supper.
It was dark and quiet in the hall, a faint glow coming from past the stairway but no sound. Most likely the hired staff had walked out already. No one wanted to be working for foreigners at a time like this, not least ones struck down with illness. Toil followed the light and found herself in the kitchens. At the table was Barra, out of uniform and slowly cleaning the pieces of her gun in the light of a single lamp. Beside her was a gently steaming teapot and a tiny cup. The slim woman eyed her employer with a lazy scowl and returned to finishing her task.
‘Feeling better?’
‘Bet you think you’re funny, eh?’
Toil shrugged. ‘I delegated that job to Aben.’
‘Yeah, well, he did you proud. I still feel like crap, though.’
‘Able to work?’
Barra sneered. ‘Of pissing course, I ain’t some mewling secretary.’
‘Climb? Run?’
‘Better’n most, even if I’m not at my own best.’
‘Then fetch Aben and Paranil, we’re going exploring.’
That brought Barra up short, hands frozen in the act of starting to slot the pieces of her mage-gun back together.
‘Official sanction?’
‘And escorts outside – Bade’s beaten us down there so I do mean I need you able to run, once I’ve finished my business with the Envoy.’
Barra gave a curt nod and briskly slotted the remaining gun-parts together before setting it down and doing as ordered – trotting past Toil and up the stairs with barely a sound. Toil followed her as far as the second floor where the Envoy’s private rooms were and walked straight in.
‘What is it?’ the man called as he heard the door open, eyes widening when he spotted Toil. ‘You’ve got some damn nerve, woman,’ he growled.
Toil closed the door behind her and checked the room in a glance. Ammen was alone and his mage-pistol lay on his desk. Clearly the man realised the same thing and he darted forward to grab it, but before he could get there Toil had her own drawn.
‘Now now,’ she said as he froze in the act of reaching for the gun. ‘That wouldn’t be a very good idea. Back up, that’s it, now sit.’
Eyes full of murder, Ammen did just that and Toil tossed the man’s gun away before sheathing her own. Ammen frowned, clearly not expecting that.
‘What do you want, whore?’
‘Ah, senator,’ Toil said, walking towards him. ‘There’s no need for such language. We were both sent here with orders, just not the same ones.’
She could see the calculations going on in his eyes. He was a big man and stronger even than she was, but also sitting down and with no guns to hand.
‘You knew the labyrinth was going to be opened? How?’
‘I have my sources.’
‘And you came here just to offer your services? On the Archelect’s behalf? Was my mission just a smokescreen?’
‘Your mission was just as vital,’ Toil said almost soothingly. ‘As Jarrazir witnesses, the Knights-Charnel and all their fanatical little friends grow bolder every year. Su Dregir needs allies and the states of the Parthain shore are an important first step. We had thought there’d be more time to establish trade relations, but life’s inconvenient that way.’
‘What now?’ he asked.
‘Now we talk about justice.’
‘Justice?’
‘Su Dregir justice,’ Toil clarified, ‘and the dignity of its government offices. Offices that shouldn’t be sullied by the actions of their incumbents.’
‘That?’ Ammen spat. ‘They were nothing, mere commoners. They should’ve been grateful for my regard.’
‘They were children,’ Toil said.
‘Low-born trash, less than nothing.’
He lunged as he spoke, so fast and unexpected he almost caught Toil off-guard. Ammen surged up from his seat, left hand reaching for Toil and right drawing his knife. She turned just in time, throwing herself to the side as he clawed at thin air.
With a step back to give herself space, Toil kicked forward and caught Ammen in the side of his knee. He stumbled sideways, dropping his knife, but managed to keep his feet and kept on coming. Toil pulled a knife and threw it, but in her haste it flashed past his face and disappeared behind him. Ammen gave a roar and dipped his shoulder as he ran, slamming into Toil’s gut and lifting her off the ground with the force of a charging bull.
He carried her several yards into the wall behind, almost crushing a side table there. The impact rattled her teeth as she cracked her head against the plaster, but as he drew a fist back to punch her Toil found something under her hand and swung wildly. Aiming for his face she caught his fist instead and shards of porcelain exploded over them both.
Ammen fell back, grimacing at whatever bone she’d broken. Still, the man didn’t let it stop him for long. She had time for one gasp of air as his fleshy face purpled with pain and rage, then he swung a haymaker with his good hand. It would have knocked Toil clean out if it had connected, but she twisted inside the blow and caught his arm coming around.
With a dip of the shoulder Toil pivoted and let Ammen’s rage and bulk carry him all the way over her. He slammed heavily down on to the ground, emitting a sound of pain as he fell on his broken hand first. Overbalancing, Toil landed on top of him but managed to break her fall by dropping her knee into his ribs. Before Ammen could recover she twisted his arm around to manoeuvre him into a better position. She braced herself then released him and snaked one arm all the way around his throat to grab her other biceps.
The big man began to kick furiously but Toil was already squeezing. Her joints creaked and her muscles screamed as Ammen tried to fight back – to haul at her sleeve, to throw himself around and escape her grip. Hurt and dazed, the man was still much bigger and stronger than her, clawing wildly at her head with one ham-sized hand while Toil could only close her eyes and keep squeezing. The seconds ticked by so slowly Toil found spots appearing before her eyes. She put all her strength into the hold she had on him, hardly daring to loosen any muscles enough to let herself breathe, less he find a way to escape.
After what felt like an age he started to weaken, the pressure on his neck stopping the flow of blood. Once his strength started to fail Toil knew he would pass out soon and she redoubled her efforts. With one final twitch he fell limp and became a dead weight in her arms. Only then did Toil risk taking a long breath and it was a few seconds more before she could unpeel her arms from around him.
Smears of light and dark swam before her eyes. For a moment she could see nothing but bursting stars, but finally the room came back into focus. Above her was a face, peering down. For one panicked moment she thought it was Ammen somehow still upright, then her wits returned and Toil realised it was Aben. He was saying something but her mind was garbled and when he reached down she flinched and shook him off.
She sat with Ammen’s head half-cradled in her lap for a while longer then took another long breath as she took hold of it once more. With the weight of his bulky body pulling down she twisted Ammen’s head back and up in one sharp jerk. She felt his neck give under the pressure, limbs twitching at a dull snap, and let the corpse drop from fingers that trembled with exertion. Toil looked down at the vacant, distorted face of the former Envoy Eltris Ammen – a man whose barony of Su Dregir and seat in the city Senate meant there had been no public justice for a half-dozen or more young children.
No justice but me. It’s better than you deserved.
She took Aben’s hand and let the man haul her up as she panted and rediscovered her balance.
‘Looks like the Envoy’s fallen down the stairs,’ Aben commented neutrally.
‘Yeah.’
‘Shame that, proud son of a noble house and all.’
Once he was sure Toil could stand properly, Aben grabbed Ammen’s arm and started dragging him towards the stairs.
‘No sitting around now, Toil,’ he commented. ‘Barra tells me we got work to do.’
Fires punctured the darkness, cries and wails split the smoke-choked air. An infernal light was cast over the devastation as Lesser-Prince Justabel Por ground to a halt and stared. Heedless of his troops, he could only gape at the destruction, at the crater where once there had been city streets. The keep was gone, ripped from the ground along with hundreds of tons of rock and soil. In its place was a smooth-sided hole – almost pristine after the explosion that had scoured this place. The surrounding streets were shattered – entire rows of houses smashed to kindling and brick shards, burning behind the dark veil of smoke and horror.
Por looked around, the strength draining from his limbs as he tried to get his bearings. There wasn’t anything here even he, a native of the city, could recognise. He saw rubble and ruin, nothing more. An enormous, unfathomable hole in the ground ringed with fire and terrified, bloodied citizens. A city street had led him and the Bridge Watch companies here. He knew what he should have found, but only the faint broken lines of city wall away to his left and right gave him any confirmation at all.
As though in a dream Por approached the edge of the crater. Over sixty yards across, it was empty but for mud-stained soldiers scrambling along its slopes. Every stone and brick within had been hurled away with unimaginable force, striking anything that had withstood the initial blast with the force of a siege weapon.
‘Lesser-Prince!’ roared a voice in his ear. ‘Sir!’
Por found his arm seized and used to turn him around. A squat woman in a black uniform continued to shout at him, gesturing in several directions, but her words weren’t making it through. He stared at her in a daze while the babble flowed over him, but finally the panic and confusion on the faces of those behind her filtered in to his mind.
Almost on cue there came the first gunshots from behind him, the sharp crack of icers splitting the night. Por flinched but it broke the spell and he looked back to see City Regiment troops hurrying for the far edge of the crater where some of their own were already firing.
