by Adrian Selby
“We want their belts,” said Shale, “an’ we should put ’em in the ground so’s there’s no sign of ’em.”
We chopped up the bodies to make for less work burying and were on our way as the moon was passing west to morning. I was grateful for not having to fight, but I did some forms to use the noisies and wear myself out a bit. I couldn’t let the wound take my flint, for I knew I’d be shedding blood before it all played out.
With its proximity to the great river Almar, getting into Cusston would have been tough without Valdir, who’d been there a year back. We found a spot on some hills overlooking the river and the city still distant, its old walls receded from its sprawling edge like skirts gathered up from a wave. It was a far grander sight than the ruins of Ithil Bay, for many of the towers were still used, and in the parts of the city in which the aristos were walled, the walls were well kept. The great spires of the old guild quarter shone with their polished slates and white and red stone. About these were crowded the countless rooftops that filled out our view, rising in terraces up the side of Curis Hill. Shows what an influence Kailen was I could remember this hill, it playing a part in the wars out of legend that founded the Old Kingdoms and settled Jua.
“Over on the west side,” said Valdir, “where the bigger ships put in, there’s a good few places a lighterman could get in quietly. The Rotties, as it’s called, isn’t where the guild boats put in, too many gangers and they’s got enough coin they just built their own quays with the Reds which is further back behind those sheds you can see. I think we could head downriver a bit and pick up a willing barge could sneak us in, fair few of the peat and hide boats put in there, Rotties is where the tanneries are.”
It was a good shout and we took a day getting to a jetty used to load pigs and horse hide from the lands about. With only four boats docked we stood a few jars of wine for the crews what were camped there near some thatched sheds and got passage to the Rotties from an old scrawny merc what lost his strength with the damage of years drinking cooker’s brews. We kept under the oilskins with the hides as his boys rowed in, the stink of the hides getting overcome itself by the beamhouses we passed and their fierce stink of dung and piss. Valdir was suffering with the fall after the brew. It had been years and Shale needed to take care of him the day after we killed those boys to help him get his head back on.
I lifted the oilskins a touch and saw the huge wooden buildings what started out as stores but grew out into the river over us, creating giant sheltering caverns above us, under the roofs of which were suspended walkways, store rooms and offices and all the pulleys for cargo such as ours to be unloaded. I had to remind myself this was Jua, heart of the Old Kingdoms and a great centre for trade over the known world, for you didn’t see such buildings in other big ports. There was calling and laughing from the boats about what knew our captain and his boys, shouts in their hundreds on both sides of the river as we slipped into a berth and bumped the wooden posts of the quay. It was afternoon and the main commerce of the Rotties played out here, echoing around us as we got our packs off the boat and helped a bit with the unloading for thanks.
The captain give us a tip on a tavern that might have a few mats and fewer eyes, but like any dens, we had little to fear of Reds among this throng.
Where the massive sheds ended and the dark streets began it was impossible to tell.
We quickly turned out some coins for directions to one or two of the duts what were trying to get their hands in our belts, practising for the eyes I expect were watching them and teaching them. We took some paths they may have thought would see us fleeced by whoever was lurking about, but the men in the doorways or on walkways above us looking down wisely give us no more than a glance.
We got use of a room in a tavern what was crowded by some towering sheds like an old stone box set against timber cliffs and Shale set about my wound while we had a few jugs. Valdir was quiet, so we just sat with a pipe and let the noise of the bar play itself out and I took first watch while they got their heads down.
It was like that through the next day while Valdir set out to find Bense. Shale and I got a few kannab pipes in to pass the hours, the ’keep bringing us some hams and buttered potato for the grits the kannab gives.
Valdir got back in the evening and had managed to find out where that lord Fesden lived, who Bense worked for, but not much more. It was the next day that he come back with the bad news that Bense was in a jail, though put there by Kailen. Shale must’ve been right and all, about Kigan, for others that Valdir spoke to there spoke of a man of strong colour, like he was still taking purses, that come to visit Bense, and who had the belts of a drudha. We sipped on a bowl of tea while we figured out what to do about him being in jail.
“Jail’s a tower built out into the river, just a bridge to join it to Cusston’s barracks. Worse, the bridge joins the two near the top of the tower as the barracks are on a natural hill at the side of the river. It’s either through the barracks or straight up the side of the bridge to get at it.”
“Fuck it,” said Shale, speaking for us all.
“It’s on the edge of the Rotties, short walk from here.”
“What’s he in jail for?” I said.
“Those I spoke to on Fesden’s estate said that a man of the colour put him there to get off some plant he’s been addicted to. Said he had a skin condition and all, strange to look on. Bense is alive at least,” said Valdir. “They must know there’s a reward on him.”
“But not the same man as Kigan, from what yer implyin’,” I said.
“Aye. If they’re talking about his skin other than his colour that’ll have been Kailen,” said Valdir.
“So why din’t Kigan kill ’im?” said Shale. “Bense I mean, if he killed the others.”
None of it made sense and it give me worry.
“We bin sayin’ it’s Kigan, an’ it makes sense to say it, but whatever drudha it is, it’s either the same as what’s bin killin’ us an’ so it makes no sense he’d leave him alive if he got to him before Kailen, or it ain’t an’ I got even less clue what’s goin’ on,” I said.
“Bense is alive an’ he’ll know what’s what, if we can get him,” said Valdir.
“Agreed,” said Shale, “we got no answers an’ he has.”
“Let’s break him out then,” said Valdir smiling. “Remember Vilmor, and the Fat Princess?”
Shale almost choked on his pipe and slapped his knee, his smile widening.
“She was fat an’ all, like liftin’ a horse.” It was Shale carried her out, yelling at Kailen for a day after, who was merciless about it, the boys all ripping him. Valdir mentioned it because of how it was we got her out of a jail as she was being used to blackmail some lord I forget the name of.
“So you’re thinking we sets up a few fires and cause a riot to trim down the guard in the barracks. Then we finds someone knows the routines of the jailers and bribes one to help us get in and get Bense?” I said.
“Seems like it, Gant,” said Valdir. “Nobody will expect it or be ready for it and most of the jailers we ever met were droopers, gamblers and soaks.”
“Gant’ll be glad for a bit of a run round,” said Shale, “he’s startin’ to stink anyway. We need a stable or shed to mix the fire-oil, sulphur, rubber, lime an’ pitch, an’ some bags an’ the routes an’ timings.”
“Valdir needs to run the bags as he knows it all best. Need Shale with me for any trouble,” I said.
I set out for the jail and spent the day watching who come and went, then Shale took the night. Valdir was out getting a run going and renting out rooms along the way. He was going to place a bag at each of the rooms he rented, light it and move on, when the time come for the break. Either fire would catch or just some dreadful smoke, enough to cause panic in houses made of wood and sure enough that would bring the guard in. Then he’d move onto the next house maybe a street away and start something there. While the guards were hollering and a noise was being created we could go at
the jail without bringing Cusston down on us.
It was the following evening that we picked a guard who worked in the jail. He was heading from his shift to a flophouse full of sour, wrong-looking whores. I got in there and we sat waiting while his preferred one was finishing up.
“She any good?” I said, meaning whatever one was likely to be his regular. He wasn’t much younger than me, wore out too, and a skin condition accounted for the flakes about his shirt and in his hair, and his fat nose was peeling like a Sardanna sailor.
“She’s cheap,” he said.
“I’m just in,” I said. “Captain must’ve give me some wrong directions. You got an hour you could show me somewhere a bit, you know, richer? I got a purse’ll see you right for a finer fanny than what’s here? Some good brandy too. I got a few hours to kill and I don’t want to find meself up the wrong sort of alley.” I said the latter with the rude tone I thought would appeal to him. He give a grin, looked me up and down and he was in.
It was a long night. I took care to draw out the booze and give him the fuck of his choice at a place what were more used to captains and the lits what worked the ledgers for the Rotties gangers and other merchants. I put some ginse-laced rum his way and he was soon in a fine mood. Sure enough he was not too fond of his life. Seems those he worked with were all against him, or were getting the choice of shifts because they were in with the Sergeant of the Guard. He found a lot of sympathy in me and I found a lot of their names and a bit of the routine from him, enough to know one or two what were on the following night if we could get prepped for then. I’m sure he got on no better with his new sergeant when it all settled down in the days ahead, but there we are.
It was dawn when I got back to the room we had. We were ready. Shale and Valdir had put together the firebags and Valdir was with them in the stable we got the use of. Shale had his arrowbags prepped. We slept for a few hours then hung about till mid-evening, ate a bit and packed ready for the run. We strapped up, he set my wound and we took the Honour, then he headed out to bring Valdir up on a brew and I set off for the tower.
I was quick to get under the bridge what joined the jail tower to the main barracks. A few people were about as the docks day shifts were clearing but none would’ve thought more than that I was seeking some shelter. I was rising good now, it was hard not to let anyone see my shakes as I got into it. There was an old man next to me and a couple of soaks sheltering too, but they were sunk in whatever suffering their mixes brought them. I looked up and Shale was getting onto a rooftop that was some fifty yards off the wall above me. Valdir would be waiting on his signal for the movement of the guards about the barracks wall what would set us off. I felt like I was going to explode as the moments passed, my noisies were building and I was shuddering to get into it, the streets about almost suffocating me with noise and the rich violent smells of the Rotties carrying like notes of a tune on the whips of air off the river I was next to.
Then Shale give the go and saluted me like I was a captain, a smile on him as we kicked off. It was a good but strange feeling to be doing it for us and not some purse.
The first black smoke went up from the stable, a good covering of the oil saw it catch fierce. The shouting started up, screams and yelling from that part. Shale slid an arrow onto his bow and lifted to draw. I masked up and smeared my eyes for the powders. Guards were moving above me, their boots clapping on the stone of the bridge. On Shale’s first arrow I moved, tearing up the wall to the edge of the bridge’s walkway, just beneath its parapet, then I moves along the side of the bridge, hand over hand till I reached the tower. It was an agony holding myself against the wall with my guts not wanting to work. I smelled two at the doorway above me. The orange of the flames behind me played about the damp stone as buildings were going up like they were thirsty for burning. More smoke was beyond the line of buildings I could see and then I heard doors being pushed open inside the compound, the soldiers arming up and supping brews. Shale’s arrows were hitting the bridge to my right where the barracks joined it and the shouting was all to duck and find the archer, then retching and screaming as the powders started in their eyes. The guards above me were cussing and arguing over what to do.
I flipped over the parapet onto the bridge and my sword’s out and these boys got no answer because they never been to war and were on some cut caffin at best. I put both over the side of the bridge before they got time to get a word out but I heard the bolts go in the iron door to the jail itself. I swapped to Juletta and now put some limebags over the wall into the barrack buildings behind me. Shale had already taken shots at the barracks and the smoke was now rising up fierce from them.
“Bilby? Slim?” I yelled. “I got word to hold the jail wi’ yus, Sarge’s command.”
“Bilby in’t on, who is it?”
Fuck.
“Slim? Fuck sake, Nelis on then is he? Don’t thus be a cock. It’s fuckin’ chaos out ere’!”
Shale had left the roof across the way and ran across to the wall below me, his piercing whistle telling me of it. The bolts started going back on the door and with the first crack of the hinge I put my boot into it and forced them back inside. Shale was up the wall before I had to force the fight, leaping over me and carrying the door in. He dug a swift blade into Slim’s chest and through. The other was cussing and fumbling at his scabbard when I cut him shoulder to thigh, stabbing his throat to stop him yelling.
Shale slammed the door and I knelt to get at their keys.
“Slim?” come a shout from below. Shale charged down the steps now some blood was about, and the screaming was iced up with cheering as the men in the cells saw a break.
I got the keys and chucked them down the stairwell at him, keeping close to the door and listening to the Rotties taking to the streets to find someone to blame for the fires that were going off.
Doors slammed open beneath me, a rush of men on the stairs shining with freedom, shaking themselves out and finding some weapons. Shale shouted for Bense. I let the boys out to prolong the havoc with the guards and shortly Shale come up to the passage with Bense before him.
He was a mess, slick with sweat and walking like he was on broken glass. It was likely some betony he was on given how wiry he was in his limbs, but his shark fin of a nose and curly thatch of hair were unchanged all these years. If Kailen wanted him off plant, it hadn’t worked. Bense was speaking in his own tongue and reaching for Shale’s pouches as we tried to drag him out. Course, Shale was right about him being a Drooper, he just went for whatever pouches he could open on the belt to get himself something to take, with no thought for which he was opening, something only a complete fucking idiot does on a fieldbelt. Sure enough he’s got his hand in Shale’s bag of agave powders and as Shale feels him at his belt, tugging at it, he rips Bense’s arm away and it only causes him to fling the powders in the air. Juiced, Shale and I were fine, but Bense and the prisoners about starts screaming. There’s men run out on the bridge to get out of the cloud of powder and some inside screaming and rolling around on the floor. Shale’s had to drop down to Bense, who’s lying there shaking and spitting in agony, and he has to put him out cold with a smack so’s he could get some juice in his eyes and wash his skin off and put a fix in him to bring him back. Then I hears a cry outside on the bridge and sees the men had run into soldiers coming from the barracks and all helpless before them they’re getting cut down like duts. I pushed past those staggering about blinded and blistering and faced up to some guards and their sergeant. Seeing me The guards readied themselves and I got to it. Two arrows were launched but I saw them in flight and adjusted my body to let them slip past. Sergeant runs in and tried a feint to draw me in but I could read it in his eyes and his tongue flicking out, both betraying his intent to control his balance for his next move. I let myself get drawn, knowing the likely thrust, and as it come I smashed his sword out of his hand. The moments as he stood making a decision were enough, on the Honour, for me to put two blows together that cut hal
f through his hip and took an arm off. As I did I felt my wound split a bit, a sharp pain causing me to seize up a touch. They weren’t sharp enough to make good on it and as they jumped forward over the sergeant’s body I was quicker and each of them I moved so’s in a blow or two they were open and finished. I cussed for I was going to really feel it when the brew wore off.
The prisoners least hurt by either Bense’s stupidity or the soldiers gathered themselves, took to the sides of the bridge and scaled the wall down. We followed them over it. There was no going through the barracks. With some rope we brought I tied it round Bense and I scaled down the wall so’s Shale could lower him to me. Then he climbs down himself.
We woke Bense with a pinch of shiel and once he was on his own feet we run through a street that had houses and some stores on fire, with that rubber giving off a fierce smoke that had people running all about us. I heard clashes ahead as groups of Rotties boys saw the chance for some pillage and a go at the guards what I’m sure few of them got much justice from.
We picked our way across Cusston, along the river, Valdir’s path being away into the city so’s the guard and any militia would move to the hundreds what were fleeing their houses.
Soon enough we found a lighterman to get us over the river and we got to the outlying farms and then into the fields.
“He did a fierce job,” said Shale, looking back at the smoke and the glow what were visible even with the Rotties and hills of the upper quarter blocking a direct look at it.
