SHIANG

by C. F. Iggulden

  ‘My lady … Tellius,’ he said in greeting. ‘You asked to be brought news of any other men of Shiang approaching the city. I have a report from the north gate. The guards there have stopped a party of six on horseback. They could not give a good account of themselves.’

  Tellius’ eyes widened.

  ‘Call out your guards, Win. All of them. And all three Sallet Greens.’

  ‘Is it an attack?’ Lady Sallet asked.

  ‘I’d rather be wrong than right. Galen, I need your horse. I must see that group.’

  ‘I am not giving you my horse,’ Galen said. He saw Lady Sallet look up and went on before she could make it an order. ‘But if you mount behind me, I will take you.’

  ‘Send to the other families, Win,’ Tellius said. ‘Get the militias out. If I’m mistaken, it will be nothing more than a drill. If I’m right … pray I am not right.’

  Gabriel could feel heat rising around Sanjin, despite the very precise orders he had given. The sheer size of Darien was daunting. The walls rose a hundred feet in the air, so that they had been visible for miles over the roads that approached the city. The gates themselves were of huge beams and black iron, set in massive new fortifications, thick enough to resist an army. Gabriel had discussed the best approach with Thomas and Sanjin as they’d drawn close. The sun was rising and they were fresh. The city gates had been closed and a train of carter families rested asleep in their wheeled homes, waiting to be admitted.

  Gabriel had ridden past them all and shown a hand’s breadth of sword when a lone man protested. That had been enough to keep the others quiet. There were few laws beyond the walls of the city and not that many within. The traders might have defended their stocks with sword and axe, but they wouldn’t risk their lives to punish the bad manners of such a rough-looking crew. When the gates had finally opened, Gabriel had been the first to ride through the widening gap.

  He found himself facing a narrow road, with walls made of sandbags funnelling the entrants past some yawning soldiers. He could not see how the bags were meant to work. They seemed more a theoretical barrier than an actual one – he could have dug in his heels and jumped his mount over them in an instant. Yet he had agreed to speak softly at first. He, Sanjin and Thomas were predators who walked unseen amongst the sheep and goats. He would decide whether they should tease out what they needed, or just put a sword through the heart of the city. Peace or war. The choice tugged at his sleeve.

  ‘What is your business in Darien?’ the first guard said.

  The man wore enamelled plate armour that overlapped in strips across his chest and down to his thighs. The material clacked and creaked with every movement. A dagger was there to be drawn in a sheath across his chest and a long sword sat his hip. It was rather odd, Gabriel thought. He was a man dressed for battle, not to question feed merchants and farmers.

  The guard was beginning to show subtle signs of alarm as he took in the group before him. The man’s eyes flickered to Thomas and Sanjin – and, of course, Sanjin was leering around him like a savage. Then there was Lord Ran, his hands bound, looking beaten down and miserable. Last through the gate were Marias and the Fool, who still wore his collar and leash. He looked around like a child, hissing softly to himself.

  ‘We are mercenary soldiers,’ Gabriel said. ‘From Shiang. I heard the city is hiring.’

  A boy near the gate suddenly took to his heels and sprinted away down a main road. Gabriel watched him go, waiting for the guards to relax.

  ‘Mercenaries? You might find work, right enough. That one has his hands tied, though,’ the guard said. ‘How does he fit in?’

  Two more of the guard’s companions had stirred from brewing their first cup of tea to come out and see what was holding up the line. As Gabriel frowned at them, a huge dog padded out of their little guardhouse. His heart sank. He had never liked dogs. Sure enough, the animal began to growl as he glared at it, sensing a challenge.

  ‘That’s a nice dog,’ Gabriel said, forcing a smile.

  The guard nodded.

  ‘He don’t like you much, though,’ he said, looking Gabriel up and down.

  The man seemed in no hurry to let them past, though the merchants behind were already being waved through on a different lane. Gabriel felt himself flush as those families watched in delight, thinking the ones who had pushed in were in trouble.

  ‘Why are your hands tied, son?’ the guard called to Lord Ran.

  The man looked up blearily and shook his head.

  ‘Run,’ he said in a croak. ‘Just run.’

  The guard stepped back and drew his sword in the same moment. In an instant, there were half a dozen armed men doing the same and the great gate began to close behind them. Gabriel didn’t care about being shut inside the city. They should be concerned about being shut in with him. The light darkened as the gate was wound shut and a sort of silence descended on that part of the wall, as everyone in range peered over to see what was happening.

  ‘Where are the stones?’ Gabriel asked in exasperation. Despite his patience, the moment had still slipped away from him.

  ‘I think you should dismount, sir,’ the guard said. ‘Moving slowly, so as not to alarm anyone.’

  Gabriel sensed movement overhead. He was far enough inside the gate to be able to look back to where half a dozen men stood with crossbows aimed at his heart. Slowly, he raised his head and smiled to them. Heat was coming off Sanjin as if they stood too close to an oven. Thomas was watching Gabriel, ready to move. Lord Ran crouched over and began to moan in fear.

  ‘Thomas?’ Gabriel said. ‘I think we’ll do it your way now.’

  Thomas nodded and all hell broke loose around the gate.

  18

  Contact

  Lord Bracken came out of sleep as if he’d been punched in the gut. He rose with a huge inhalation, then turned the rising tone into a shout of anger. The two great dogs that slept at the foot of his bed leaped up and snarled, looking for an enemy. The bedroom door slammed open an instant later as the night guard kicked it in and entered with a drawn sword.

  ‘Hold!’ Bracken snapped before the dogs could take the man off his feet. Beyond the room, the clatter of paws approaching could be heard. He had very few servants, though the Bracken estate in Darien had better defences than any other.

  ‘What is it, my lord?’ the guard asked, peering around for any threat.

  Lord Bracken stood up and rubbed his face.

  ‘One of my dogs has just been killed – the one at the gate.’

  He turned to the two animals watching him as they sat in silence. The guard was not surprised when the lord spoke to the pair watching him.

  ‘Go to the gate and watch, but do not get close. Be my ears and eyes.’

  The dogs pushed out past the guard. Bracken’s expression became colder once the animals had gone.

  ‘Bring me mail and my sword. The city is under attack. It seems Tellius was right.’

  The sun was barely up when Tellius and Captain Galen skidded to a halt at the end of the road looking onto the north gate. Half the city was still waking, yawning warm and safe in their houses while the market traders and bakers were already out. Yet on the streets around the gate, the air shook and thumped. Tellius and Galen shared a glance as screams grew louder and a crackle of gunfire echoed back from the roofs nearby. Tellius dismounted, staring in fury at the flickering light and sounds of battle. He could smell gunpowder on the air. The light of flames flashed yellow shadows on every wall and the ground trembled.

  Tellius swore, then raced up a flight of outside stairs. At the top, he leaned out over an iron balcony to see what was happening. He and Galen were some twenty yards away, one street clear and protected by houses on the corner. Tellius muttered under his breath as he squinted. His eyes were not as sharp as they had once been. The action by the gate looked like bees swarming around a single point, rather than massed ranks forcing an entrance. He ducked instinctively as something whined past him and cracked a tile a
bove his head.

  ‘Militia coming!’ Galen said, looking back down the street.

  The city had not been caught unprepared and Tellius thanked the Goddess and Lady Forza for that. If this was the wave, they had half of Darien in arms.

  His jaw sagged as he began to understand what he saw. Soldiers with crossbows and pistols on the high walkways were shooting and reloading as fast as they could. They did not seem to be having any effect at all. As he peered across the street, Tellius saw those men begin to scream, beating at themselves as if they were on fire. He realised that was exactly what was happening. He hadn’t seen anything like that since Nancy, two years before. There was no sign of her threads in the air, but the men still burned. Magic was being used and Tellius could not see the source, nor think how to counter it. Except through force. When in doubt, send in men with iron.

  The plan had never been to let an enemy into the city before dealing with them. Like everyone else, Tellius had expected an army, not a tiny group on horses who looked as if they would be swept away at any moment.

  Yet they were not. As he watched, the twitching bodies of the crossbowmen collapsed, burning with greasy black smoke above the gate. Tellius leaned further over the rail and froze, suddenly, as if he’d been made into glass. It lasted an instant, then he turned and ran down the steps and out onto the road, heading towards the gate. He heard Galen curse behind him, but Tellius had to confirm what he’d seen.

  Three men stood at the heart of chaos, not a dozen yards away. The air itself seemed to move around them, and as Tellius watched in astonishment, spears and arrows arced in and came to a stop, burning to ash.

  He heard the clatter of hooves behind as the man in the lead spotted him standing alone. Tellius saw the man laugh, showing neat white teeth. It was a Mazer swordsman. Tellius could tell that from the almond eyes and the way the man moved. Tellius shook his head, his mind whirling. He glimpsed Galen come between them and took the arm that reached down to him, allowing himself to be dragged up.

  Tellius felt a wash of heat on his back as the horse galloped clear. Galen had been forced to take another road and they found themselves cantering down a street filled with marching men, all heading to the gate. Tellius waved the officer to a halt.

  ‘Five men and a woman,’ he gasped.

  Information was vital in the first moments of an attack, when everyone was asking the same questions. The officer listened with grim concentration.

  ‘Three seem to be leading. They have some sort of offensive magic – heat, certainly, I don’t know what else. We need help here. Sallet Greens, Regis shield, De Guise sword. Try to hold the position, to keep them close to the gate, but, corporal, fall back if you have to.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ the man replied. Not a month before, he’d been a baker in a small hotel, but he saluted crisply and waved a hundred men on as Tellius and Galen pushed through.

  ‘Take this next road on the left,’ Tellius said.

  Galen half-turned.

  ‘I need to get back to the estate, sir. I’d like to get the Greens out – and the main force. It’s my job to be there.’

  ‘You will be, but I need Lord Canis first,’ Tellius said. ‘Don’t make me dismount, Galen. There’s not enough time to run there. No more half-measures. I need to do this.’

  Galen clenched his fists on the reins, but he knew Lady Sallet was safe in the estate. He went around the corner without slowing down, so his horse almost lost its footing on slick stones.

  ‘Without breaking my neck, ideally,’ Tellius added, tightening his grip.

  The Canis estate was a mile away across the city. With the streets still light on traffic, they crossed it in minutes. The roads there were peaceful, with no sign of panic or even awareness of the threat in anyone they could see. Unless they brought the attack quickly to a stop, that would surely change. Tellius slid off the horse’s haunches.

  ‘Go on, Galen. I’ll come as soon as I can. Take the news back to the estate. Get someone else to Regis and De Guise – and remind them they were not to be found two years ago.’

  As Galen galloped away, Tellius approached the black iron gate of Canis House. He was immediately brought to a halt by guards stepping out to meet him, already bristling at all the commotion in the public street.

  ‘You know me, or you should,’ Tellius said. ‘So one of you run to your master and tell him Androvanus Tellius begs his pardon and requests his permission to use the Canis Stone on a man.’

  The older of the guards nodded to the youngest, who raced off, disappearing down the drive. The Canis estate house could be seen from the road. It was some six storeys tall and much more a city residence than some of the others. Tellius admired the look of the place, though he preferred the larger grounds of the Sallets or the royal estate.

  There was nothing to do for a time and Tellius waited in the morning sun. The street was oddly quiet, he realised, as if the local people sensed something was off. Those who did walk past him went quickly, hurrying away.

  ‘Is Lady Sallet hurt, sir?’ one of the guards asked.

  ‘I would not come to your master if she was,’ Tellius snapped. ‘No, the city is under attack. North gate.’ He saw the man pale.

  ‘I have family there,’ the man said, suddenly shaking.

  ‘It’s not an army. If they stay inside, they should be safe.’ Tellius had no idea if that was true, but he needed the man to concentrate.

  They both saw Lord Canis at the same time. The head of the house wore a long black coat and was dressed in dark grey trousers and a white shirt under a black jacket. His shoes were as polished as a servant could make them. The lord carried a leather bag and looked more like a royal physician than Burroughs ever had as he crunched out across the gravel. The guard ran to open the gates and a black coach came around the side of the house, drawn by two horses.

  ‘Well? I don’t imagine you would waste my time, Master Tellius,’ Lord Canis said. ‘Get in. Explain on the way.’

  Tellius bowed his head in relief. He could not like such a cold man, especially once he had understood the source of that coldness. Yet he still thought it was the right decision.

  ‘Sallet estate,’ Tellius told the coachman. ‘As if your life depends on it.’

  He slapped the side and sank back into soft leather seats, dark as the coach itself or the horses that pulled it.

  ‘I imagine you could always hire this out for funerals,’ Tellius said, looking around him.

  Lord Canis did not smile. He sat stiffly on the seat across from Tellius. His black bag rested on his knees, with both of his hands keeping it safe.

  ‘I have met you more than halfway, Master Tellius. You called and I came, with my family stone. I lent my aid to your preparations, just as I promised I would. Tell me then, what is so urgent and so desperate that you call on Canis?’

  ‘The city is under attack, my lord,’ Tellius said. It was hard not to respond in kind, with emotion repressed. Yet there was no matching the icy stare that weighed all it saw and found the entire world wanting.

  ‘I see. Is it the attack predicted by Lady Forza?’

  ‘I don’t know, my lord. Not yet. I saw great forces at play. I would be a fool not to take the threat seriously.’

  ‘Still, be wary, sir. Our enemies are capable of misdirection.’

  Tellius blinked for a moment, but they were coming up fast on the Sallet estate. He had the door open to leap down before they had come to a halt.

  ‘Open the gate,’ Tellius shouted. He saw Galen’s face appear on the walkway and nod to those below. The gates swung wide and the black coach rode into a yard busy with soldiers running everywhere.

  ‘Captain Galen!’ Tellius called to him as the gates were closed once more. ‘See that Lord Canis is offered tea, would you?’

  ‘Where are you going, Master Tellius?’ the lord said. He had climbed down from the coach and stood waiting impatiently. ‘Will you play games with me? Where is the patient?’

 
Tellius knew the man was quite capable of turning the coach round and leaving. He did not want Lord Canis to lose his patience, famously short as it was. For that matter, Tellius didn’t want to discover what other defences the head of one of the Twelve Families of Darien might have on his person. He drew to a halt.

  ‘My lord, I beg your indulgence in this. Give me a few moments and I will know whether I need the gift of your stone or not.’

  Lord Canis’ expression could not have become any stiffer. He dipped his head the tiniest fraction of a degree, deeply displeased to be left standing in the open yard like a tradesman.

  ‘Given the nature of this morning’s news, I will give you leeway, sir. Do not test my patience further than you must.’

  ‘You have my word I will not, my lord,’ Tellius said. He broke into a run then, heading for the entrance to the cells that lay under the main estate house.

  Hondo came awake, though he was not sure if it was day or night. It seemed an odd thing never to dim the lights, just as they never seemed to tire of staring through the small square of glass at him. He’d watched the faces change half a dozen times, learning the shift patterns to keep himself from going mad. They’d fed him like a child and then escorted him to the toilet wrapped in so many chains he could barely move. He shuddered at the memory of that particular experience. Their fear of him was a compliment in its way, but no man should have to endure being wiped by another, not while he had his strength.

  He watched with interest as the guard suddenly looked away and spoke to someone. Hondo could read subservience. Not a rescue then, he thought. It would have been unlikely, but small hopes of that sort helped him to endure. He had a strong suspicion he would be made to disappear when Yuan-Tellius decided he could be of no more use to him. They had extraordinary magic available, and yet they waited for Bosin to choke to death without lifting a finger. That was the true measure of them. It had confused Hondo to witness the obvious affection between Tellius and the lady Sallet. The man he had thought of only as a traitor had seemed rather ordinary then. Not a monster at all.