by Mike Morris
It was Arbour. It had to be. Even in the darkness, it was impressive. A sea of twinkling lights, more vast than anything she'd ever imagined, stretched out before her. A giant river cut through the heart of it, twisting and turning until it disappeared into the night.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?" said Simon, stopping beside her.
"It's ... it's ..." Lin's voice trailed off. She didn't have the words. Until six months ago, the castle of Grosnar had been her entire life, her sole experience. But it was nothing compared to the city before her. "How many people live here?"
Simon laughed. "A lot. It's home to two hundred thousand souls, maybe more."
"How can there be that many people in the world?"
"You'd be surprised. Humans are a resilient kind."
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Next you'll say it's because God is looking after us all."
He held up both hands and smiled. "I wouldn't dare even suggest such a thing."
The priest was an infuriating man. One minute she wanted to kill him, the next ... well, he could be almost likable.
"Come," said Simon. "Another hour or so and I can drop you off at the palace, where warm beds wait for both of us and you can be rid of me at last."
"I won't say no to the warm bed," replied Lin. She followed Simon down the hill.
A thirty-foot wall surrounded the city with watchtowers spaced at intervals. Some parts looked in better repair than others, but the scaffolding that ran alongside a great length of it showed effort was being made to bring it all up to standard. Of course, no one was working so late at night. Unlike Grosnar, workers in Arbour stopped when the sun went down, and they didn't have a whip chasing them while they worked. Lin wondered how long it would take them to finish the improvements. Whatever it was, she knew Old Jahn and her crew could do it in half the time.
When they reached the southern gate, they found it closed and barred. Men stood around a brazier, trying to keep the cold away. Two were Black Dogs while the others wore basic armor under their cloaks; chest plates, helmets, shields. One carried a musket, but the others only had short swords. When they saw Lin and Simon approach, weapons were drawn. Both the Black Dogs drew their pistols and aimed them at the travelers.
Simon pulled his horse to a stop. "What's going on? Why's the gate locked? Why the guns?"
A Black Dog stepped forward. "Who are you and where are you from?"
"I'm Brother Simon from the monastery here in Grayston, under secondment to Lord Willingham. What's going on?"
"And your purpose in coming to Arbour?" asked the Black Dog.
"It's none of your fucking business," snapped Simon. He produced a paper from his tunic. "This is a letter from Lord Willingham giving me permission to go where I want, when I want. Now will you tell me what's going on?"
The Black Dog took the letter, read it and then passed it to his comrade, who did the same before returning it to Simon. He holstered his pistol and indicated to the others to do likewise. "I'm sorry, Brother. Just following orders. We've got a Nostros loose in Arbour. Brother Nial has ordered the city locked up tight till we find the demon."
Nostros. The word hit Lin hard. She sat back in her saddle, shocked and very afraid. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to run. She found herself scanning her surroundings — the road they'd ridden down, the clumps of trees and bushes that were scattered around, the wall and the scaffolds — anywhere a Master might lurk. Her hand gripped her sword so tight she felt her knuckles would pop out of her hand. No. She wouldn't be afraid. She'd not let the bastards do that to her again. She'd trained hard. She was strong. She was deadly. She would fight them until her dying breath. She straightened up once more, squared her shoulders. She wasn't weak.
"How could that be?" asked Simon. "It's impossible."
"So we all thought," said the Black Dog. "But they've found enough bodies in Brixteth to think otherwise now. We've got hundreds of men searching the city."
"Brixteth?" said Lin, her voice no more than a whisper. "Did you say Brixteth?"
Simon turned to look at her. "Do you know the place?"
"No. No, I don't. A friend is from there," said Lin. "I've heard him talk of it. That's all."
"They think the Nostros is still there," said the Black Dog. "They found a house with a mountain of dead in it. The Nostros had been feeding on them."
"Shit," said Simon. "Still, it doesn't change anything. You need to open this gate and let us through."
"Did you hear what I said?" said the Black Dog. "I've got orders that say no one comes through."
Simon leaned forward in his saddle. "And I have orders that supersede yours. I have to get my companion to the palace as soon as possible. Now open the bloody gates."
Simon and the Black Dog on guard duty stared at each other in an unspoken battle of wills. In the end, it was the guard who saw sense. He held up both hands in surrender. "All right. All right. It's your bloody funeral. Open the gates, lads, and let them through — and let's hope the Nostros doesn't find them."
The sentries scuttled to one side and did as ordered. One banged on the door and told whoever was on the other side to remove the beam and undo the locks. There was another brief argument over orders, but eventually the doors swung open.
"Come on," said Simon and rode through the gate.
Two more Black Dogs and more sentries watched them pass. The moment they were through the gate, they swung shut once more with a clang that echoed off into the night.
Lin followed Simon, open-mouthed. She wasn't prepared for what she saw. She'd seen the multitude of roofs from the top of the hill. She knew the city was home to thousands of people, and yet ...
It was like she'd stepped back into Grosnar. Buildings came right up to the city wall, packed so tight there was almost no space between them and encroaching on the road so much it appeared to be no more than a tunnel to follow.
Simon saw her gaping at their surroundings. "It gets better."
Lin wasn't so sure. She followed him down narrow streets, crammed with buildings that looked like they were about to topple over. Everything was filthy. Lin had to cover her mouth and nose with her hand to block the stink of soot and shit and who knew what else. The snow turned black the moment it settled on the ground, soaking up the dirt and grime. There was nothing beautiful about Arbour. Lin couldn't believe how anyone could choose to live in such squalor. She'd had no choice in Grosnar. She'd been a slave, after all, but there were no slaves in Arbour; only free people. Why would they want to live like pigs?
The streets were empty, with no one in sight. Lights burned in windows dotted around the buildings and she could see shadows moving around inside. She saw no faces, though. Everyone was keeping well out of sight. "Is it always as quiet as this?"
"No," said Simon. "Normally, not even the snow would get people off the street. But if there is a Nostros about — well, even I'd prefer to be behind a locked door made of solid oak."
The doors they passed didn't look that sturdy to Lin but she could see his point. She checked the shadows and the alleyways as they rode through the streets, her hand never far from her sword. She was aware of a long-forgotten fear growing once more inside her and she didn't like it. A Master was close once more. Hidden away, perhaps, in one of the buildings, or out walking the streets. She knew they'd come one day, knew she'd have to face them once more. She forced the fear down. It had no place now. She wasn't their slave anymore.
The city wasn't helping, either. Seeing everyone shut away for the night reminded Lin of her life as a Sweat. The city was like a prison, shutting her off from the trees and the hills and the fresh air. She had to fight the urge to turn around and ride straight back out into the countryside. It certainly wasn't the wonder she'd been led to expect.
Simon led her through the maze of streets without hesitation. She'd no idea how he could know the way. She'd quickly lost all sense of direction and one street looked just like another.
They passed several Black D
og patrols, clusters of men looking nervous. All had their weapons ready, taking no chances. Each time, Simon and Lin were challenged but eventually allowed to move on.
Lin kept her eyes open for a Master all the while. She jumped at every noise and her heart missed a beat whenever the wind moved a shadow. Knowing there were so many Black Dogs about didn't put her at ease in any way.
The city changed when they reached the river. It was even bigger up close than it had appeared from a distance. A bridge spanned it and Lin couldn't believe that man had made such a thing possible. The river had to be at least a mile wide, if not more, and yet the bridge sat on two evenly spaced stone columns that disappeared into the black, murky water. She could see a barricade had been set up at the Brixteth end. Torches burned against the night sky and there was another cluster of Black Dogs guarding the way.
They rode along the riverbank toward the bridge. Houses jutted out from the banks, tottering on stilts and rammed tight together with boats moored underneath. She had no idea how anyone could live that close to the river. If she thought the city had stunk beforehand, it positively reeked now. As they got closer, she could see an oily film over the top of the water with every type of garbage floating on it. It was disgusting. When Lin was younger, she'd crawled through Grosnar's sewers and they'd not smelled as bad as the river before her.
The river wasn't as quiet as the rest of the city. They passed a barge unloading coal, and got hard looks from the workers. They weaved their way around two drunks who'd fallen out of a tavern and were in the process of trying to stand upright while their friend pissed into the road. A stray dog ran past, yapping and barking, chased by a group of kids. Lin didn't know if they were playing with the animal or if they wanted to eat it.
More Black Dogs came to meet them at the bridge. One held up a hand. "Stop there."
Simon knew the routine by now. "I'm Brother Simon from the monastery here in Grayston, under secondment to Lord Willingham. I have to escort this lady to the palace without delay." He produced Willingham's letter before the sentry could ask any more questions.
"A bad time to be traveling, Brother Simon," said the sentry, reading the letter. Satisfied, he returned it to Simon. "Let them through."
"Thank you," said Simon. "May God watch over you."
The sentry drew the circle of God over his chest. "And you both as well."
Braziers burned along the length of the bridge, little pockets of yellow and orange in the dark. White snowflakes drifted in and out of the light, settling on the dirty road. Black Dogs were stationed along its length, armed with rifles, watching the water and the riverbanks.
"They're there to make sure no one tries crossing the river on boats, or gets mad enough to try and swim," said Simon when he saw her looking. "They'll try and make them turn back if they can. If not, they'll shoot."
Lin nodded. She of all people knew you took no chances with a Master.
They reached the other side of the bridge and the city changed once more. The streets opened up and everything was in much better repair. The buildings looked newer, fresher, more cared for. Even the air felt cleaner as they moved away from the river.
"This is where the money lives. It's called Grayston." Simon pointed back the way they'd come with his thumb. "That was Brixteth. Life's harder over there."
Lin glanced back. "Jack's from Brixteth."
"Who's Jack?"
"A friend. A priest." She tilted her head toward Simon. "One of you. He and his brother saved me from the Masters. I'm here in Abios because of Jack."
"Where is he now?"
"Here in the city."
"Maybe you'll get to see him before too long."
Lin shrugged, nervous of what her voice might betray, scared to admit her own feelings. She still remembered the conversation she'd had with Jack in Grosnar. He'd admitted he had feelings for her but his vows were a barrier to them. Stupid fool that he was. He, of all people, should realize how fleeting life was. And what sort of god demanded that his servants couldn't be happy? What sort of god didn't want people to be in love? It was all madness to Lin, another reason to not believe. The trouble was, Jack did.
They turned into a road wide enough for a dozen carriages to travel side by side.
"This is the Queen's Avenue," said Simon. "It's actually named after Eliza's great-great-grandmother, Queen Mary. She commissioned it after the defeat at El Asta."
"El Asta?"
"It's an area of the Middle Kingdoms, down on the south-west coast. Miserable place. Always bloody hot. More desert than anything else. We fought a battle there against the Nostros and lost."
"Why would she make a road because you lost a battle?"
"You'll see in a minute."
They rode on, snow drifting down around them. The avenue continued until it reached a large square. In the center was a large column with a statue on top. As they got closer, Lin could see the statue resembled a knight of the Order.
"Nine thousand Black Dogs died at El Asta," said Simon. "We had to leave their bodies there. Queen Mary had this erected in memory of them all and every year, the regent leads a memorial procession down the Queen's Avenue and leaves a wreath here to honor their sacrifice."
Lin stared up at the statue. It was hard to imagine so many people dying at one time. She knew three hundred priests had gone on the raid to Grosnar and less than a hundred had returned. Nine thousand was an incomprehensible number to her.
"The palace is over there," said Simon. He pointed to the far side of the square, where the avenue continued into the distance. Lin could make out a shape in the darkness but not much else. Still, she felt a shiver of excitement at being so close to her destination. She wanted to be out of the snow and warm again, she wanted to be away from Simon, but more than anything, she wanted to be safe behind well-guarded walls where a Master couldn't get her.
The palace was three or four times the size of the monastery in Whitehaven. She counted at least six floors to the building, a fortress decorated with gold behind an iron fence. Everywhere Lin looked there were armed guards. Men in breastplates with silver helmets and black fur cloaks kept watch alongside Black Dogs. No one was taking any chances. Good.
Simon led them down the left side of the palace, alongside the iron fence, which turned into a wall, ten foot high, with metal spikes running along the top. They came to an arched gate with more sentries.
"We're here," said Simon and dismounted from his horse. Lin did the same as Simon handed a paper to one of the sentries. "Lord Willingham sent for us."
The guard read the paper, occasionally looking up to examine Simon and Lin. The other guard held a musket, not quite aimed at them. On the other side of the gate, Lin could see more soldiers gathering in a courtyard.
Finally, the sentry refolded the paper, returned it to Simon and told his companion to open the gate. "Leave your horses at the stables and then report to the main house. Someone will see you there."
"Thank you," replied the priest and Lin followed him into the palace.
Lin yawned. At least they were out of the snow and warm once more. Someone had brought them food and wine to drink, but she wished they'd just shown her to a room so she could sleep. Her eyes burned with tiredness and her whole body ached. It had been a long few days and she wished them over.
She and Simon sat in a small room inside the palace. They'd been shown there and told to wait. A fire had been lit and candles placed on the central table around which they sat.
"How long are we going to have to wait here?" she asked for the fourth or fifth time.
"Until someone comes for us," replied Simon for the fourth or fifth time.
She stood up, more for something to do than any other reason. "It's late, I'm tired and I want to go to sleep."
"As do I," replied Simon. "Believe me. But we've been told to wait here, so we have to wait." She hated the way he looked at her, like she was some truculent child.
"This is ridiculous," snapped Lin. Another m
inute and then she was going to walk out of the room. She'd not waste—
They both heard footsteps in the hall. Simon smiled and climbed to his feet.
The footsteps got louder and then the doors to the room opened. Two guards stood to one side and a man swept in, a dark cloak pulled tight over his shoulders.
Simon bowed. "My lord."
The man came straight to Lin. His eyes were mesmerizing, drawing all her attention. "Is this her?"
Simon straightened. "Yes, my lord. This is Lin, as requested."
A smile snapped across the man's face. He held out a hand. "I am Lord Willingham. I'm so glad you could join us at such short notice."
Lin was taken aback. She took the offered hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replied, but she wasn't sure she was. The man was quite unsettling.
He placed his other hand over hers, drawing her closer. "The pleasure is all mine. How was your journey?"
"Long, cold, uncomfortable. Not helped by the assassins trying to kill us," she said.
The smile fell just as quick as it appeared. His head swiveled around to glare at Simon. "What happened?"
"Two men tried to murder Lin in her room at an inn in Taveson. Then we were ambushed on the road by others."
"Did they wear any sort of uniform?" asked Willingham.
Simon glanced at Lin. "Two wore red cloaks."
"Red cloaks," repeated Willingham.
"Yes. They were organized and well-armed. We were lucky to get away. If Lin hadn't been as skilled as she is with a sword, it would've been a different story."
"Things are escalating," said Willingham, more to himself than the others. "You heard about the Nostros?"
"Yes, sir," said Simon.
Willingham's eyes gleamed, cold and dangerous. "I feel we are at a turning point. We can only hope we survive the test that lies ahead." He turned to Lin, took her hand in his. "And you, my dear, may well be the key to it all. Get some sleep. We have much to discuss on the morrow."
