Snakewood

by Adrian Selby

  I wiped the salts off the new cut I had and put another lump of guaia on it wrapped in bistort leaves. I was out for a moment as I did it, like my head was underwater but my insides were frying. This was plant like I never saw before, to wrack me so with just a dribble of it. I vomited and dragged myself a bit more to the tree, shield over me.

  The fire was raging over the river, I couldn’t tell how many were there or where the flames were moving the oppo to. Then I saw some come forward into the river so I give a yell for what it was worth.

  For a short while swords went at it. I was dead if only one of them came upon me, but I worked the arrow wound, though my fingers worked as though I was instructing another’s hands, no more strength in them than a dut’s. Shale come back to me then, patted my shoulder and whispered. “Finally botherin’ wi’ the guaia then, Gant? It in’t good, Valdir’s paralysed, can’t move, not dead but barely breathin’. Lot o’ smoke but we can’t risk gettin’ to ’im. Danik’s shootin’ again an’ Roin too, got good positions with the firebags pushin’ a few of ’em, probably Kigan too, further up the valley.”

  Achi crept over to us then and dropped his mask. His skin was bruised, blisters where it was exposed. He was barely thirty summers, would’ve been a great commander, for the brew give you a sense of fear or doubt on soldiers and he had none.

  “You boys have a clear run out of here, or we’re all dead anyway. I doubt any got east of us to cut us off so this is the best chance you’ll get.”

  “We should all get out, I’ll get Valdir,” said Shale, making to move. Achi put a strong hand to his chest to stop him.

  “He’s not coming back, Shale, we got nothing could get him moving. We promised Araliah we would keep you safe. What her and Kailen did for me isn’t a story I’ll get to tell, but we swore and do for him what you always did for him. Magists watch over you and we’ll do what we can for Valdir.”

  With that he was gone.

  Shale nodded and cussed to himself, took a deep breath and dragged me up. I didn’t want to let him down. I tried to walk but the poisons and wounds had me a mess, not the first time I left a battle bawling with the pain of it, but truth to tell I was crying for leaving Valdir and all, who I wished I had kept up with, who had paid out but was back in.

  Achi called it right, lucky for us. Danik must’ve been prepped to put his firebags down the river a way, to cluster them further up the valley.

  I heard little beyond the fires blazing, saw nothing on a glance back but a choking pall that hid the valley and the endgame playing out. We hobbled north as the Honour Achi give us made its claim.

  Destination: Candar Prime, Q4 670 OE

  Jua Main routed

  CONFIDENTIAL FOR THE RED ONLY

  Report of: Fieldsman 84

  Debriefing of: Guildmaster Alon Filston, Kigan

  Received your instruction.

  Met with Kigan. It is unlikely any purse could be found to persuade him to give up any of the recipes he may have picked up from Hanwoq. He cares little for anything but Galathia.

  He seemed to be on a day brew for the two days I rode with them. He had a heightened awareness of the world and the presence of those around him, as well as their tells. Be most guarded in your demeanour should you get audience. His colours are a vivid and quite unique blue and red. I witnessed his forms the morning I left and they were exceptional. He should be considered the equal of the best Fieldsmen, but with potentially superior plant.

  He has agreed to an audience with you in exchange for my providing the whereabouts of Mirisham and he seemed to know of Mirisham’s importance to us.

  Met alone with Alon Filston as they travelled to Cusston. Alon was in a highly agitated state. It is clear to him that Galathia is betraying him with Kigan, and that he is losing status with his own retinue. Kigan and Galathia are constantly together.

  He is unable to seek redress with Kigan for obvious reasons but it is clear that Kigan appears to be a formidable man to be near. Galathia also has little interest in appeasing Filston, though this is in part in relation to a sense of anticipation regarding her reintroduction to the Citadel Argir. I reiterated the importance of his efforts in securing Galathia in Argir and the bearing that would have on the relationship between the Post and his guild, Filston-Blackmore.

  I also conveyed to Filston how important it was that he ensure Kigan and Galathia arrive at Mirisham’s, that The Red himself will be there to meet Kigan and ensure he no longer interferes with Alon and Galathia’s plan. He has been told to take advantage of the Reeves’ hospitality along the route to Cusston to allow The Red time to arrive and prepare for the meeting. He has also been told that The Red desires he and Galathia remain allied and happy in the coming years.

  However, he confided information of the highest importance regarding the problem in the east. Galathia’s brother, now a warlord among Wildmen for Caragula, has taken Ahmstad and marches on Donag and Issana. You are aware of the horde approaching the Old Kingdoms from missives my brothers will have sent from the Wilds, Ahmstad, Vilmor, Lagrad, confirming those earlier rumours. Her brother has been in contact with her regarding their movements and their intention to take the Citadels and control Lake Issan, perhaps even Mount Hope Province and Fort Donag if he is any strategist.

  They will be there in two months or less.

  Filston expressed his concern regarding our ability to ensure we can resolve matters in the face of this horde. I could say little but that a war council of the Old Kingdoms is being formed and that a strong Argir with its rightful ruler was good for Argir and all civilised peoples. I shall travel as per your instruction to escort Hiscan and Marolan dignitaries to Jua and provide them our intelligence.

  On behalf of my brothers I apologise. We did not investigate the recent period of calm among the settlements and Post Houses that border with the Wilds, nor investigate the reason for the highly successful period of delivery along the border tributes. These constitute unusual activity at least as well as excessive trouble.

  Chapter 17

  Kigan

  Here Kigan recounts events from Cusston through to the aftermath of the fighting in the Donag valley.

  Goran

  I blame myself for what happened in this valley. Perhaps I could not know we were being tracked or observed ourselves by men Araliah had dispatched. Why didn’t I think Kailen would have a resourceful wife? A further mistake, for as pliant as I made her, she would not answer a question that was not asked after I’d got the Weeper into her skin.

  Her men had only the Honour. It started making its claim from the engagement after a few hours and they made a final stand on their desperate second rise. I expected nothing less.

  We had left the burning ruin of Kailen’s estate for the Harudanian port Mothmarun, Alon procuring passage on a Juan cog’s ballast leg from there to Port Fortuna.

  It was as we travelled there that a Fieldsman for the Post introduced himself. Fieldsmen are the rank of Post between the High Reeves and The Red himself, representing him, for only Fieldsmen, and a very few others, know his identity. Fieldsmen are given free rein to operate in the Post’s interests wherever they see fit. Where Reeves are renowned administrators and negotiators, Fieldsmen are that, but also, as the name suggests, excellent spies; they know many languages and are highly skilled warrior drudhas. It is rare one introduces themselves, but this Fieldsman has taken an interest in me. Presumably Laun has spoken of me, who I am and what I want for both myself and Galathia. I cannot fault her loyalty. Indeed, inducing an interest in those members of the Post higher up, that must know something of Galathia, accords with my aim, and sure enough this Fieldsman offered Mirisham’s whereabouts, confirming that he had indeed gone back to the borders of Fort Donag, working with the Post to keep routes open through the mountains. In return the Fieldsman offered audience with The Red, the Post’s desire being to understand better the plant and my recipes gleaned from the Hanwoq.

  The thought of the Post having recipes suffi
cient to give their soldiers a decisive advantage and consolidate their power throughout the Old Kingdoms was abhorrent to me; for all that it can glue kingdoms and confederacies together, it is greedy and corrupt. Feeding it to grow further is in nobody’s interest.

  The Fieldsman was eloquent, speaking of the Post’s “important role” in keeping the peace across the boundaries of kingdoms for the benefit of all the peoples that relied on trade for their lives and families. The Post, he told us, was a civilising force that could do great work, to bring further peace were it to have access to more potent recipes. He asked if I’d thought of the contribution I could make, as a drudha that had been to the Hanwoq jungle; floated before me the idea I could find an “unparalleled opportunity” for research in a high-ranking post at their academy on the island of Candar. It would have made no difference to him my recounting of the countless incidents of their involvement in coups and other acts of destabilisation of those powers not amenable to giving them what they want, not least of course their involvement originally in deposing King Doran, the cause of all the woe in my life.

  I cared only that he gave us Mirisham, the additional benefit being that Cusston, and its jailhouse holding Bense, was on our path to him. I agreed to a meeting with The Red. It would be interesting if nothing else. I was told that we should meet at Lake Issan, from where he would accompany me north to the town Mirisham was now mayor of. The Fieldsman left us the morning we boarded the cog.

  A week or more from Mothmarun and we arrived at Cusston, entering the city as Lord Hesskan, in whose domain Cusston lay, led the memorial service for those who were killed in the fires. The charred bones of the joists and frames still smouldered as we rode past them to the service where I was told the Reeve would be.

  In silks that nearly matched the lord’s for their colour and splendour, Cusston’s Reeve of the Post watched as the mayor and captain of its garrison spoke to those gathered about. Rotties and slummers oiled the commercial interests of the guilds and they needed soothing, not least to stop the attacks on the captain’s own men. They must have spoken well, for there were shouts and cheers of agreement, predictable calls to solidarity and the encouragement of grief to bleed out the rage. There was no mention of arson, only the forthcoming beneficence of those looking to stave off further riots with bread, blankets and wood.

  With Alon and Galathia I waited for the service to finish. She must have sensed in Alon a resistance to what we were doing, and so far north as well from the heart of his business interests. She flirted with him, fussed with his robes and teased a smile out of him, necessary for what was to come. It was obvious to me my presence had caused them far more damage. He snubbed me whenever he could. He must have known we bedded whenever there was a chance, but what could he do?

  The tracker that I had watching the prison and Bense had left word at our inn that there were four at least heading north. Valdir must have been with them. I had no doubt they had started the fires to create the diversion necessary to get Bense out of the jail.

  The Reeve would have the men and the stables necessary for me to catch up with and overcome them. He would not, however, discuss anything with me without our party join him for a banquet he was holding for various Cusston worthies and visiting dignitaries, which he made Alon out to be one of.

  As soon as those present at the tables had sated themselves I pushed aside a whore who was seemingly stuck to the Reeve’s ear. “Reeve, I have news both of the fire here and the vineyard.”

  He was almost white blond, tall like a Rulamnan. The Juan sun suited him for his darker skin, reddish with a mild intake of brews, made him a striking figure. At fewer than thirty summers and already Reeve Cusston, this was a man with ambition and thus ripe. He kissed the woman and told her to fetch them another bottle.

  “Remind me, it’s Kigan, isn’t it? You’re with that guildmaster?”

  “Alon, yes, of the Filston-Blackmore Company, and his wife Galathia. One of your Agents, Laun, travels with us.”

  “Yes, Marschal Laun, she served me very well shortly after I was promoted to Cusston. I trust you aren’t still searching for the mercenaries that so grieve us? I have heard of a crew of Reds killed only twenty leagues from here that I suspect they are also to blame for.”

  “We are sadly bound up with the fate of those men,” I said, “for I know why they have come here and burned so much of this city and know where they are headed. They have kidnapped a brother of mine. They mean to seek out a man called Mirisham.” It was obvious he was not aware of our conversation with the Fieldsman.

  “The information you have will be much appreciated and sufficiently rewarded when you share it with us. Would you accompany my scribe to his office where we can make good this arrangement?”

  I admit I struggled to keep an even tone as I considered the hours that Valdir, Shale and Gant were gaining in leagues on us. I recalled then how Laun had buried the bodies of her fellow Agents and gestured for her to join us.

  “Marschal Laun,” said the Reeve, “an honour to meet you once more.” He waved his hand for the whore to fill our cups on her return, before dismissing her.

  “Marschal, I mentioned to the Reeve that we are seeking out the men who killed so many at the vineyard at Ithil Bay. Marschal Laun and her crew buried every one of their brothers in that vineyard, thirty in all as you know. In our revenge you will find a most willing Marschal of the Post instrumental in its execution. I respectfully suggest that our desisting this pursuit, particularly given the calibre of Laun and her crew, would be the least successful approach for all of us. The man they have kidnapped is loyal to me, he will seek to pass me a message of their heading if he can, to a tracker that only answers to me. Right now I know which direction they are going and you do not. I do not doubt that you noted, in your High Reeve’s report of events at the vineyard, that they had plant exceeding that which the Post gives its most elite soldiers. I made those fieldbelts, I was their drudha for more than fifteen summers. I can supply fieldbelts many times more capable than your best and can counter their poisons and fightbrew. Unless you can muster fifty Agents or more Reeve, I believe you need me almost as much as you desire delivering their heads to your superiors.”

  Laun began to petition him with a passion bordering on insolence. He raised a hand to silence her.

  “Please, Marschal Laun, there is no need. Kigan, I believe the Post’s prestige would be greatly enhanced by presenting Lord Hesskan with their heads. A caravan arrives with a few good men later this evening I’m told. I shall have birds sent… where?”

  “North. Lake Issan.”

  “We have orders not to send anyone north at this time. There is word of an army from the Wild, though I’m surprised at the instruction, as the border countries normally deal with those savages quite effectively. I believe you’re more than capable of executing this task despite this. You will need assistance with preparing the belts?”

  “Just the use of your benches, I fear the required skill does not exist outside the academies.” I admired the attempt.

  Eighteen Reds and two Agents joined Laun’s crew and Alon’s men. Birds were sent out with instructions for the Post Houses ahead to watch for and detain the four. They would be heading up the Forstway to Lake Issan. It couldn’t be long before news of the full extent of Caragula’s army came to Jua and put this whole pursuit at risk so I pushed for us to leave that night. Alon, naturally, was reluctant, but Galathia spurred him and his men to consider the future, already sure, indeed glowing with the knowledge, that Petir would return their throne and her place as a princess, if not queen, of the Citadels. Alon’s promises to smooth her way to the throne may well have worked, but she didn’t need him now.

  For all the maids that waited at the Reeve’s lavish banquet, all eyes were on Galathia; her knowledge of commerce and her husband’s dealings, the green dress she changed into that was taken from Araliah, all conspired to win an urgent departure, much to the dismay of Alon’s travelling party I’m s
ure, for few of them would have eaten as well as this while working for Alon.