Moon's Artifice

by Tom Lloyd

  Rhe charged, longsword drawn and ready to strike. The demon failed to notice him, so intent was it on the injury he’d done, but then his first blow sheared through the blackening limb. The demon screamed again, this time a sound so loud and high it felt like daggers in their ears. Rhe staggered sideways, clutching his head as the sound seemed to explode off the surrounding walls and strike him on all sides. His vision blurred and shuddered, his muscles suddenly turned to liquid inside him.

  Rhe tumbled backwards as a white shape cut through the confusion and crashed down just in front of him. Finding his sword still in his hand Rhe slashed blindly, catching nothing. The movement seemed to return him to his senses, however ; the feel of swinging a sword was so ingrained in his body that from somewhere he found his composure return. Unable to see properly, guided by the light of its remaining hand, Rhe stepped away from a second swing and struck up at where its arm should be.

  He caught it a glancing blow, but life-long training drove him on and he chopped down at the hand in the next instant. Something burst under the force of his blow and he twisted sideways as the light dimmed. The demon was ahead of him, bowed over the blackened ruins of its hands and he hacked down at the back of its neck. The blow sent it crashing to the floor – not severing the neck but enough to cripple the demon. Rhe stepped back, blinking away stars from his eyes as he heard the running footsteps of his colleagues close by.

  He opened his mouth to shout an order but the words died unneeded in his throat – drowned out by the double-crack of pistol shots that burst the demon’s head apart.

  Night had fallen by the time Law Master Sheven came to find Rhe at his station on the bank of the Crescent. Behind his grey beard, Sheven’s face was a mass of anxiety. Bows from the Investigators went unnoticed as he hurried up to Rhe, scimitar flapping on his hip.

  ‘Lawbringer – you’ve had a successful night ?’

  Rhe did not respond for a moment, at last inclining his head. ‘We killed two ; reports from the other teams give us a total of five.’

  ‘But we have taken losses ?’ Sheven finished, seeing the grave expression on Rhe’s face.

  ‘At least six of ours dead – perhaps thirty civilians at the hands of the demons. I have no way of knowing how many have been killed accidentally, but I myself witnessed one instance.’

  ‘What did you do ?’

  Rhe turned briefly towards where the flag-wielding novices would now be ready with torches in the darkness. ‘Nothing. It was unintentional and he was a House Wolf nobleman, they were a servant.’

  Sheven ducked his head in acknowledgement. Putting anyone of the noble caste on charges was fraught with difficulties at the best of times, especially when the victim was low-born.

  ‘How fares the rest of the city ?’

  Sheven’s shoulders sagged lower. ‘Chaos. The fever has been reported in every district of the city bar the Imperial Island itself.’

  ‘Deaths ?’

  ‘A handful only, but that will change.’

  ‘You are sure ?’

  Sheven nodded. ‘The Emperor sent us his personal doctors to assess matters. Those who died today were the weakest, but the fevers are running hot. More will die in the night and it will continue that way.’

  ‘The cause ?’

  ‘They are still arguing that. It is not plague, no matter what the common folk say, but nor is it some simple fever. It is too swift for that ; too widespread over the course of a day. From what I’ve gathered they are leaning towards some sort of ill vapour rising up from the water in the night. The fear is that the breath of those stricken could infect everyone nearby. The doctors are frightened, truly fearful for what tomorrow may bring.’

  ‘They want us to quarantine the entire city ?’ Rhe asked. ‘Or perhaps close the bridges to the Imperial Island and pretend the Crescent isn’t easily crossed by boat ?’

  ‘They are frightened for the population ; there has been a suggestion of moving those who are ill into quarantine to protect the rest.’

  Rhe frowned. ‘Moving them ? Where could possibly suit such a large number of ill people ? We would need an army of doctors.’

  ‘A suggestion has been made,’ Sheven said, distaste dripping from his words.

  It didn’t take Rhe long to realise why. ‘The goshe,’ he said flatly. ‘They comprise the greater part of doctors in this city. They are the ones willing to care for the sick – and they are the ones with a leper colony and sanatorium five miles off-shore.’

  Sheven growled some form of agreement. ‘One Imperial lady raised the idea with the Emperor at court – Princess Kerata. You’ve seen her before.’

  ‘The An-Goshe, she was part of their delegation. Meanwhile, our numbers are wholly occupied by this fever and the demons that accompany it. We are unable to pursue our investigation of the goshe, leaving this Father Jehq and his conspirators free.’

  ‘Don’t forget the favour they might win with the Emperor,’ Sheven added sourly.

  ‘The timing cannot be a coincidence, but leaving aside how they managed such a thing – to what purpose is this all ?’

  ‘Investigator Narin had not been able to discover that from the turncoat ?’

  ‘Narin !’ Rhe gasped. ‘You’ve not spoken to him yourself today ? Has there not been any word from him, from any of them ?’

  Sheven shook his bald head. ‘None, nothing since they disappeared into Coldcliffs.’

  Rhe nodded. ‘I suspect running to Lord Vanden Wyvern was always a feint for the sake of informers in our ranks.’ And given the girl’s story, the last thing we need is a fight on the streets of Dragon – magic-enhanced goshe being seen by an Astaren agent. This is a test of the Emperor’s law ; it does not need a bloodbath to match the Ebalee Trading Company.

  ‘I had still hoped to hear from Narin by now. This turncoat goshe might yet be able to provide us with something to unravel this mystery.’

  ‘I trust Narin,’ Rhe said plainly, ‘he will find us when he can.’ I may not trust the tattooist, but like as not he’ll see the other three safely through this.

  ‘And until then ?’ Sheven sounded like a tired old man for the first time Rhe could remember. ‘What is our plan ?’

  ‘The Emperor approves of this goshe suggestion ?’

  ‘He does. Lord ald Har could provide no sufficient reason to refuse it.’

  ‘Then we cannot waste our strength fighting it. Order on the streets of the city is our priority, whether or not the goshe have caused this to distract us. In the meantime, we must have faith in Narin that he can uncover what lies at the heart of all this.’

  ‘Faith ?’ spluttered the Law Master, as though he were warrior caste rather than religious.

  Lawbringer Rhe inclined his head. ‘Narin will resurface, or they are all dead and our leads died with them. I have faith in the man,’ he said, adding in his mind, and faith in his secret Astaren helper. ‘He will not fail us, but until then, faith must serve.’

  Chapter 22

  He saw her in the cell, naked. Her rich, brown skin glistened with sweat and blood. She hung just as he had ; arms bound and stretched up, head sagging. Her hair fell limply across her face. Her breasts were marred by cuts, the small swell of her belly battered and bruised. A trail of blood led down the inside of her thighs and Narin tried to scream, but no sound would come. He looked down at himself and saw he was clothed and free. A goshe mask covered his face and his gloves were stained with blood. Still the screams stayed in his head, unable to break out to the dream-world beyond.

  Narin blinked, wincing at the light above him. Through bleary eyes he looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling and gingerly lifted his head. He was in a narrow room, barely large enough for the bed he lay on and a chair currently occupied by Enchei. On a single shelf was the candle that provided the room’s only light. Through the half-shuttered window he could see it was dark outside. The occasional spatter of rain made it through the gap and onto the bare wooden floor.

  ‘How’s the
pain ?’ Enchei grunted, looking up.

  Narin tried to roll on his side, his bruised and burned body protesting mightily. ‘Hurts,’ he croaked.

  ‘Aye well, that’s what happens. Should be starting to fade now, though.’

  ‘Why ?’

  Enchei’s expression was something between a grimace and a grin, but Narin couldn’t tell which. ‘Worked my arts on you. It ain’t going to stop the pain, but it’ll fool your mind into mostly ignoring it a while.’

  ‘How long ?’

  ‘Couple of days. There’s a payoff waiting at the end, I promise you that, but that’s all I can offer.’

  ‘It’ll do. That’s long enough.’

  Enchei leaned forward. ‘You sound angry. That’s good, hold on to that.’

  With a hiss and a gasp Narin eased himself a little more upright. ‘Angry ?’ he echoed with what little force he could muster. ‘They tortured me. I shit myself with the pain, screamed myself hoarse and they didn’t stop. And you think I’m angry ? Piss on you.’

  ‘Trust me boy, angry’s as good as it gets. Something like that can break a man, leave him a wreck, so be glad at what you’ve still got.’

  ‘Glad ?’ Narin coughed, gingerly tugging aside the blanket that covered him to look down at his torso and legs. His stomach lurched at the memory but in the end there was nothing much for him to see ; thin bands of white bandage covering each of the five worst areas of hurt. ‘Is it bad ?’

  ‘Not so bad – the pain’ll have been worse than the damage. They didn’t focus on one part, just burned fresh patches o’ skin for each question they had, it seemed. A doctor’d tell you to stay off your feet for a while to come, but I don’t think you got the option there.’

  Narin glanced over at the window. ‘How long until dawn ?’

  ‘A few hours yet. Time enough to talk then catch another few hours before the streets get busy and we can move you.’

  ‘Talk ?’ Narin eased back against the head of the bed. His muscles felt weak and shaky, the sour feeling of fear in his stomach making him want to retch.

  Enchei sat back again, looking down as he fumbled with his pipe. ‘Aye. Before anything else we need to talk.’

  Narin didn’t say anything but the older man didn’t seem to expect him to, and busied himself a while until the pipe was lit. Eyes still lowered, Enchei’s voice dropped when at last he did continue.

  ‘Torture makes every man talk,’ he said at last, almost reluctantly.

  ‘I don’t need this speech,’ Narin growled.

  ‘You ain’t getting it, boy,’ Enchei snapped. ‘They did some shit to you and that’s for another day. I’m just saying – you told ’em something and we need to know what before we go further. No matter what it was, we need to know. I’m in this fight to the end, that’s how I’m made, but if they know my secrets I need to hear it just as I need to know what you told ’em about Irato and Kesh.’

  There was a long silence. Narin stared at the wall, completely still despite the crash and howls echoing through his bones. The sickening crackle of the goshe’s lightning, the pain that blinded him and the heavy blows that had rocked his body.

  ‘Hey ! Stay with me now,’ Enchei commanded. ‘There’s no time for remembering, not yet. Talk.’

  A surge of revulsion and hatred for his aging friend washed through Narin. He found himself drawing his arms and legs protectively up to his body, the urge to retch building, but Enchei did nothing in response and eventually Narin relaxed – gaze fixed on Enchei’s weather-worn face.

  ‘Talk,’ Narin said, almost choking on the word. ‘I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.’

  Enchei nodded. ‘Fair enough. You tell me where I go wrong, then. You told ’em how you found Irato and how his memory got wiped away. You told ’em about Lord Shield taking an interest. You told ’em about Kesh, how she got involved, about the foxes that saved her.’ He took a deep breath. ‘You told ’em about me—’

  At that Narin shook his head. The Investigator was watching Enchei intently, his fists curled tight around the blanket as though fighting the urge to flee.

  ‘You didn’t tell them about me ?’ Enchei said slowly. ‘That’s the bit you kept back.’

  ‘I ….’ Narin coughed. ‘I called out Kine’s name – they’d given me something and I dreamed of her. When I woke they asked who she was, threatened her.’

  ‘And they made you hate ’em – made you want to beat ’em. So you held out as long as you could and made damn sure you kept one thing back.’ Enchei nodded with understanding. ‘You told ’em we didn’t know what their plan was, that we only had a few guesses and half-baked ideas ; enough to make sure they didn’t run and hide. Enough to think they could still win at this game. And you held back something that could really hurt them.’

  ‘I’m going to kill them,’ Narin croaked, hands shaking with both rage and terror. ‘All of them.’

  Enchei scowled. ‘You’re sounding like a man with nothing to lose there and that ain’t healthy. Being determined to die for the cause ain’t the best way to win – it’s the best way to die.’

  ‘I’ve got nothing,’ Narin said in response. He gestured to his feet, the bruises and cuts on his body. ‘Only Kine and the baby matter. I’ll never be a father to it, I realise that now. Even if we get Kine out, Lord Vanden will never let an heir go if it’s a boy, never let a girl live. It’ll never be mine, but if these goshe win it might be dead before it’s ever born.’

  ‘You know,’ Enchei said eventually, ‘I never thought of you as some cold-hand gambler. You’re an honest lad at heart, brought up well and not a cruel bone in your body.’ His expression was a twisted smile. ‘But you’ve just thrown the stars there, haven’t you ? Told them what you needed to ensure it’s all or nothing now. They make their play and we’ll be trying to screw it all up – that’s why you told ’em everything but what I am.’

  ‘I want to kill them all.’ The passion in his voice surprised Narin, but Enchei only nodded sagely.

  ‘Maybe they did break you a bit,’ the tattooist said, ‘just enough to make some sharp edges.’

  Narin looked away, eyes blurring as exhaustion crept up on him.

  ‘Get some rest,’ Enchei suggested, seeing the change in Narin. ‘There’s a pair o’ blades under your bed, case you want ’em. I’ll be back with some food after sun-up. Need to go see what the new day brings us.’

  Narin managed a nod and Enchei left, carefully shutting the door behind him. The Investigator stared after him then, with some difficulty, dragged the chair towards the door and wedged it as best he could under the latch. That done he sank back down onto the bed and wrapped himself around the blanket, curled up at the end of the bed. Unable to close his eyes, Narin just stared at the wall until the tears crept out and tiny shudders went through his body.

  ‘Whatever it takes,’ he whispered to the empty room. ‘I’ll kill them.’

  Lawbringer Rhe jerked awake, hand reaching for a pistol before he had registered where he was. He lay in a warehouse between two stacks of crates on a clear patch of flagstones. With only a blanket underneath him, his back protested as he moved but insistent voices cut through the confusion of sleep. Grainy light filtered through the air and told him it was daytime, but nothing more.

  ‘He’s asleep – you’ll wait.’

  ‘Bugger that, my message’s important. He’ll want it now.’

  Rhe frowned, trying to fit faces to the indistinct voices he could hear. He sat up and leaned back against a crate, casting around for a moment for his pistols only to find them where he’d left them. The double-sheath hung from a nail that protruded from one of the crates, just beside his head.

  ‘You will step back,’ the first voice said angrily. Investigator Soral, Rhe realised.

  The yellow-eyed woman had been utterly fearless the previous night, had revelled in their hunt – much to Rhe’s surprise. A natural thief-taker she was not. Clearly, Soral had joined the Lawbringers for some other reason, b
ecause she was far more of a warrior than Rhe. It was the victory she lived for, the crash of battle echoing in her head.

  ‘Gonna shoot an unarmed man ?’ the messenger asked scornfully. ‘Wouldn’t want my blood to stain your honour now, the stuff’s difficult to get out at the best of times.’

  Rhe grunted and rose. That was Enchei, the tattooist friend of Narin’s. Even if he’d not recognised the voice, Rhe could think of no other low-born so happily disrespectful of a warrior caste. He shook out the jacket he’d been sleeping under and pulled it on.

  ‘Tell you what, Siresse, how’s about we wake Rhe and ask him ? If he doesn’t want to hear my news as soon as possible, you can give me the kicking I so richly deserve.’

  ‘Soral !’ Rhe called, realising he needed to interject before she drew a weapon. Whichever way that went, it wouldn’t end well.

  He rounded the crates and advanced toward the warehouse door. On either side of him were Lawbringers and Investigators, most scowling up at the intruder whose raised voice had interrupted their sleep. ‘Investigator, I am awake now, so I will see him.’ He pointed at Enchei. ‘You – outside.’

  They went out into the light, leaving Soral to shut the door behind them and the rest to get back to sleep. They had all worked hard that night and the day would bring work enough that an hour more sleep would be precious. The morning was dull and grey, drizzle falling on the pair as they walked to the water’s edge. The warehouse had been commandeered for the night as useful space near the Palace of Law, serving as the hub for Rhe’s demon-hunting bands.

  ‘Adopt a more respectful tone towards your superiors,’ Rhe ordered Enchei once they were out of earshot of anyone. ‘Your background does not give you licence to insult – unless you are operating openly here, you will play the role of your allotted caste.’

  ‘I’ve only got one tone, if she don’t like it that’s tough for her. We got more important things to talk about right now.’

  The Lawbringer shook his head. ‘No. We stand for the Emperor’s law ; we protect the society of his Empire. You will conform to it or you will have me to deal with.’