Markan Empire

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Markan Empire Page 49

by Nicholas A. Rose


  Before long, Balnus received his money and the two men hopped onto the cart.

  Verdin made to speak.

  "Not yet," murmured Balnus.

  He cracked the reins, and the cart forced a slow route through the throng. Without fish, the beggars now ignored the cart. Once out on the street, where the noise was great enough to prevent anybody from overhearing, Balnus turned to Verdin.

  "Take it we're burned."

  "Looks that way. Steppan himself came to warn me. As it turns out just in time to stop me from getting caught. I hope they find nothing useful at The Raven."

  "The owner of this cart will have his skin to worry about." Balnus grinned. "We'll use it to shift our gear."

  Verdin shrugged. "I'm left with only the clothes I'm wearing."

  "We'll sort something out," promised Balnus. "I've got the fish money." He jingled the purse.

  They left the cart outside the lodging house where Balnus had made his home. A humble place, but clean. Verdin had never been here before, but he nodded in approval as he entered.

  "Balnus! You are back early. Who is your friend?"

  Verdin blinked as a short, round woman in an apron bustled up. Her graying hair was tied back.

  "Peyen, this is Verdin, a colleague of mine. Peyen, I must leave, or there will be trouble."

  For some reason, the woman looked disappointed.

  "There is something else," continued Balnus, before the woman could answer. "Soldiers will come looking for me."

  "Soldiers!" Peyen looked concerned. "What have you done?"

  "Nothing to worry you," Balnus assured her, but his landlady looked unconvinced. He quickly counted out gold, doubtless more than was actually owed. "I don't know what they want with me, but when they come, don't resist. Promise me that. I would hate to see you hurt."

  "Where are you going? Surely not onto the streets?"

  "Somewhere safe," answered Balnus.

  "Let's get our gear," said Verdin. "Or they'll catch us."

  Packing Balnus's things took little time and they hurried back downstairs in minutes, delayed only while Peyen hugged her erstwhile tenant.

  She followed Balnus outside, while the two men threw everything on the back of the cart. Balnus gave Peyen one last, regretful look before they left and were back among the crowds.

  "So that's where Neptarik gets his womanizing ways," grinned Verdin.

  "You're just jealous." Under the banter, Balnus worried in case Neptarik had also been betrayed. He gritted his teeth.

  They managed two streets.

  The soldiers marched down the middle of the road and their presence forced everything else to halt. The troops looked neither left nor right, marching proudly, their officers and sergeants marshaling them. Guardsmen kept the crowds well back. Hundred after hundred after hundred. People stopped to stare at the soldiers pouring along the street.

  "All this just for us?" Verdin wondered aloud.

  "Typical noble," chuckled Balnus, though he did not feel like laughing. "Thinking the world revolves around him. The harbor is that way. Looks like the Mametain has decided it's time to attack the mainland."

  Verdin felt something close to despair. Balnus was right.

  "We're too late to make any difference," he said.

  "We must leave the city," said Balnus. "Find Neptarik and get off this miserable island."

  "How can we get Neptarik?"

  Balnus shrugged. "We won't find him here," he pointed out. "We must move, or we'll be dead."

  Verdin nodded. At least he recognized the sense of this.

  ***

  After passing on his warning, Steppan da Kanpura rushed to The Green Knight. He headed for the rooms he and his associates used, pausing only to warn the innkeeper.

  "Mirten."

  The innkeeper smiled. "A little early for your drink, sir?"

  Steppan spotted a sylph peering shyly around a barrel. Not that he ever paid much attention to these things, but he thought the creature's name was Spruce.

  "If you value your life and those of your family, you must leave."

  Mirten blinked. "Leave, sir? This is my home."

  "You and yours are in great danger," said Steppan. "Nijen knows I am here and using your inn. If you want to live, leave now."

  "But this is my livelihood, sir," protested Mirten.

  "You can start over with that," retorted Steppan. He pointed to Spruce. "But not that."

  Earpoints wilted, the sylph shrank back and looked at her owner with frightened eyes. Eventually, Mirten nodded.

  Steppan dashed upstairs to his rooms. They were deserted, but he must destroy so much before Nijen's men got here. So much that would incriminate many people and most of them innocent.

  That innocence would not matter to those he knew were coming. If Nijen da Re Taura had decided to move against Steppan now, he would prefer to eliminate everybody associated with the group and consolidate his hold on the Throne for ever. Once the arrests were made, there would be no rescue and no escape.

  Steppan could not understand why he was making his move now. What had changed? Had the man heard the rumors and knew who was responsible for them?

  Crouching at the fireplace, he blew on still-glowing embers from the morning's fire and, once burning again, fed it papers. He watched each folio dispassionately as it browned before bursting into flame.

  Paper after paper followed, until a blaze roared up the chimney. He hoped everything burned and that any pieces of documents whirling up the chimney in the updraught were ash before they came to rest again.

  Nijen had skilled codebreakers and the cipher Steppan used could probably be translated into plain language rather more quickly than he would like.

  He jumped to his feet as the door flew open, relaxing only when he recognized Khelim, who obviously had the same thoughts: destroy all incriminating evidence.

  "You should go, Majesty," said Khelim. "They will know everything."

  Steppan shook his head. "We cannot let innocents get caught in this. My sons will continue the fight if necessary."

  Khelim said nothing more, but began to sort papers. He passed those he deemed most important first. The heat grew, but that was not the only reason both men were sweating.

  "Was Levvin a traitor?" asked Khelim.

  "No idea." The other man continued to feed papers to the fire. "We may never find out, so we'll assume not. Better for his family that way."

  Khelim nodded. Re Taura had always prided itself on its legal system, because everybody was assumed to be innocent until proven otherwise. Nijen may have corrupted it, but the basic principle remained in place. Nobody could now prove whether or not Levvin had betrayed them.

  Shouted orders in the street below made Khelim risk a glance out of the window.

  "Not for us," he said, quietly. "They're marching to the harbor."

  Steppan grimaced. "Then we're too late," he said. "If they embark now, it must mean they sail soon. Within the next few days." The papers went onto the fire faster as he hurled each into the flames.

  The last document finally joined the rest and the two men looked at each other.

  "If we were still safe, the others would be here by now," said Khelim.

  Steppan paused. "The longer we linger, the more likely we will be caught."

  "Time to leave," said the other man.

  They abandoned The Green Knight by the back way, through the stables, Steppan pleased to see the innkeeper and his family frenziedly packing. The sylph Spruce alternated between helping and wringing her hands in distress, earpoints still wilted.

  Steppan and Khelim wound through the crowds, keeping a weather eye on the soldiers still marching stolidly towards the harbor.

  So far so good.

  "We should leave the city," said Khelim.

  "They will have our descriptions," replied Steppan, "but let's take a look."

  At the gates, the guards were especially vigilant and checked those leaving the city with more care
than those who entered.

  Steppan and Khelim looked at each other.

  "We won't get out," said Steppan.

  "Might not be us they're looking for."

  "Want to take the risk?"

  Khelim paused and shook his head.

  "We'll find somewhere to hide in the city for a couple of days. The hue and cry will have died down by then."

  "Perhaps," replied Khelim.

  "Another safe house."

  Khelim shook his head. "Nijen probably knows about all of them now."

  "There must be somewhere we can go."

  Even as Steppan spoke, he realized it was too late. The six men who now stepped out from behind them formed a ring. They were not soldiers, but guardsmen. The crowds melted away as nobody wanted to get involved.

  A sergeant stepped forward.

  "Steppan da Kanpura and Khelim ti Aswar, it is my duty to place you under the Mametain's arrest. You must come with us and, if you resist, our orders are to execute you, without trial."

  Steppan's eyes narrowed. This wording of arrest was only used in cases of treason. He sensibly kept his peace; he would get his chance soon.

  Beside him, Khelim shook his head in disbelief.

  The captives were led to a cart that stood close beside the gates. The crowds stared, but made no move to intervene. More guardsmen waited beside the cart, which had a prison cage on the back. Steppan's heart sank as he viewed the occupants.

  Levvin's confession – or treason – was complete.

  The cage held everybody from Steppan's inner circle. The City Guard must have all the names, which meant his fire would not save innocent people.

  The cage door swung open and the guardsmen stood ready with pikes and swords.

  "In you go."

  The sergeant indicated with his hand that they were to climb in. The gate slammed shut and the latch locked behind them.

  Once seated, he exchanged looks with the men in the cage, but nobody spoke. They looked more or less resigned to their fate. Steppan looked out of the cage as it trundled through the gate and out of the city.

  Which meant they would not be imprisoned in the city, but were being taken to Castle Beren.

  Steppan had never believed his homecoming would be in a prison cart.

  ***

  Verdin and Balnus had not got far on their cart.

  The movement of so many soldiers through the streets forced the civilians aside and halted all other traffic on the road. The exodus of this many troops might take all afternoon. They exchanged a look.

  "This isn't working," said Balnus. "Let's chuck it and carry what we can."

  Verdin grimaced. "We'll stand out if we look like refugees," he countered. "We won't be bothered if we look like we belong."

  Balnus shrugged. "It's a huge risk." He looked around. "We should hoof it for the gates."

  "Will we get out of the city?" Verdin wondered aloud. "If this lot's coming in through them, we won't get out."

  "Farmers have still got to return to their farms before the gates close," Balnus pointed out. "And they'll want to be home before dark."

  Almost as abruptly as it had begun, the flow of troops eased and came to an end. The crowds could move again.

  A smile crossed Verdin's face. "Excellent timing. Now, do we find somewhere to stay in the city, or leave?"

  "Leave. And quick. We can catch up with the true Mametain another time." Balnus's expression suggested he would hear no argument.

  Verdin gave his companion a concerned look. He suspected Balnus wanted to leave Taura mostly so he could ensure Neptarik's safety. He had never seen the man look so concerned for his sylph.

  Verdin nodded agreement. "Very well," he said, "leave is what we will do."

  Now the soldiers had passed, they reached the gates easily. All they had to do was avoid crushing careless pedestrians.

  Another queue brought them to a halt again.

  "Now what?" Balnus spoke through gritted teeth.

  They could see the gates. And even Balnus saw that leaving the city was not a good idea. Guards searched every cart and carefully inspected every driver, comparing what they saw against the notes each guardsman held.

  Checking descriptions.

  Balnus cursed under his breath.

  "They are looking to make arrests," said Verdin. "Look at that cage!"

  The cart that stood to one side of the gate had a barred cage on the back. It was empty, so they had caught nobody trying to leave by this gate – yet.

  "How come you didn't notice when you came back in?" asked Verdin.

  Balnus shrugged. "Who looks at the out-goers when you're coming in?" Even so, he sounded a little guilty. He should have noticed, even though the prison cart would not have been in sight as he came into the city.

  "Too late to worry about that now," muttered Verdin. "We should have used Neptarik as the carter; he would have seen."

  "More guards than usual," pointed out Balnus, who had come through most gates often enough to know the normal manning levels. "Leaving looks less optimistic."

  "They might not have our descriptions."

  "We're outlanders," replied Balnus. "We'll be inspected even more closely. Time to try your idea."

  "So somewhere in the city after all."

  "Could have done with leaving." Balnus's hands tightened on the reins.

  "He'll be all right," said Verdin.

  "He'd better be. I should have refused to let Morran have him in the first place. Bloody deskbound warriors."

  "Whoa!" Verdin smiled. "Nothing has happened yet and probably nothing will. Are you going to try and turn this cart around or sit here all night?"

  Balnus nodded and began to ease the cart out of the queue. More than one driver, forced to execute a tricky maneuver to let them turn the cart, cursed him in a loud voice.

  "We're attracting too much attention," muttered Verdin. "Ranva's balls, look over there."

  Seeing and hearing the commotion, four guardsmen strolled along the line of carts. No doubt wanting to know why a driver had changed his mind.

  Balnus muttered again.

  "Ho, driver!" One of the guards hailed them. "Why do you turn around?"

  Balnus and Verdin exchanged another look.

  "Which of us is doing the talking?" growled Balnus. "Can you do their accent yet?"

  Verdin shook his head. "Do I look like a taynor?" he retorted. "If either of us speaks they will know we're foreigners."

  The guardsmen had drawn level with them now.

  "Well?" demanded the same man. "What's the problem?"

  "The queue is too long," replied Verdin, after a pause. "We will leave tomorrow."

  As they had feared, the guardsmen remained suspicious.

  "Outlanders?" The four guardsmen formed a loose circle around the cart. The squadman pointed to a patch of ground beside the gate. "Park up over there, please."

  Balnus thought about reaching for his sword on the back of the cart, but almost as quickly decided against.

  Yet more guardsmen stood at a discreet distance, all with arrows nocked and bows pointed in their general direction. He and Verdin would resemble hedgepigs long before either could do a thing.

  More guardsmen joined their companions as Balnus parked the cart where directed.

  The original guardsmen searched the cart, while the newcomers referred to their written descriptions. And all were suspicious.

  "This cart belongs to Aleyn da Tinturg," said a sergeant. "Arrested this afternoon for treason."

  "I bought the cart just this morning. It –"

  The sergeant continued as if Balnus had not spoken. "And here it is, with two outlanders. We've had a bit of a purge on traitors in the past couple of days. Two outlanders, wanted for sedition, are also sought."

  "Sergeant!"

  One of the guards held Balnus's sword aloft.

  The sergeant smiled. "Here are two outlanders, riding a traitor's cart, and concealing a weapon. I assume trying to look like
something they are not." He spat the smile away. "You are both under arrest. You can explain your actions to the Mametain's men, when they get here to interrogate you. Tomorrow or the day after. Guards!"

  Verdin and Balnus exchanged yet another look. They had failed.

  ***

  Neptarik leaned against the wall just outside the sylphs' tower, thinking. He stared at the Mametain's personal tower, eyes unfocused.

  More prisoners had been brought to the castle and he had no doubt Tektu would interrogate them. His day had passed polishing furniture in the Mametain's quarters. He hoped that, ordinary domestic chores apart, he never shared Tektu's work again.

  He looked again at the sylphs' tower. In there, Mya sweated over laundry and he half thought he should join her. They could discuss what they must do to escape the castle.

  He glanced behind, where laundry bags slid down the lines leading to the sylphs' tower from the guards' barracks. Used for the first time that he had noticed.

  He hoped there were no more alarm tests today. He had forgotten how loud they sounded when nearby. The things had nearly taken his ears off.

  He turned back to stare at the Mametain's tower again. More prisoners to interrogate, and only a matter of time before one betrayed him. What if his owner or Verdin-ya were captured? Nobody could withstand Tektu's torture for long.

  He hoped his owner would not tell Tektu about him, but what about Verdin? Humans under duress would say anything to escape extreme pain.

  Neptarik stared at the tower.

  The Mametain's study was up there.

  The plans for the invasion were in that study.

  He must act and steal those plans.

  Now or never.

  ***

  Chapter 28

  Neptarik: Spy

  Two soldiers, red flashes sewn onto their uniform shoulders to show they belonged to the Mametain's personal guard, walked along the corridor and turned the corner in front of the tapestry covering one wall. They had passed this tapestry hundreds of times and, had they paid it closer attention, might have noticed something different.

  One of the sylphs on the left now cast a shadow.

  But the unobservant men walked past, turned the corner and began to descend the stairs.

  Neptarik looked over his right shoulder and grinned. His earpoints twitched in amusement and he glanced again at the two sylphs depicted on the tapestry.

  He bobbed his head and gave them silent thanks.

  He felt foolish – after all, the sylphs did not really exist – but shrugged it off.

 

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