Nightfall

by Den Patrick

  ‘What is that?’ asked Tief.

  ‘Hammering,’ replied Steiner. ‘Someone is hammering wood.’ They picked up their pace, advancing along the road until the seafront opened out before them. Tied off at the end of one pier was the Watcher’s Wait, the dark red frigate that had appeared in Cinderfell all those months ago. Tief laughed long and loud and dirty and even Steiner cracked a smile.

  ‘Romola,’ he said quietly. ‘Even in the midst of all this, Romola.’

  ‘Hoy there,’ shouted a familiar voice from the ship.

  ‘Hoy yourself!’ shouted Steiner, sounding a little bit more like himself with each passing moment. Romola marched down the boarding ramp and performed a bow with an outrageous flourish.

  ‘And what are we calling you this week? Dragon rider? Unbroken? Hammersmith? King?’ The sometime pirate, sometime storyweaver approached them with a growing expression of surprise. ‘You all look terrible.’

  ‘Thanks,’ replied Tief. ‘We missed you too.’ Romola grabbed the Spriggani and hugged him. Then did the same to Taiga. She turned to Steiner and gave him a cautious look.

  ‘Thanks for leaving me in Virag, halfhead,’ he said with a scowl.

  ‘Apologies, Your Highness.’ Romola performed an ironic bow, then straightened up. Steiner’s face broke into a smile and he caught her in hug.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ he added. ‘Even if you are a terrible halfhead.’

  ‘I am not a terrible halfhead,’ replied Romola, smoothing down her jacket. ‘I am in truth the very best of halfheads.’ A moment passed as her eyes drifted over the people present, understanding dawning on her.

  ‘Where are the rest?’ she said quietly. Taiga spent a few moments sharing what had happened, who had been lost, and who had already left the city.

  ‘So when are you leaving?’ asked Steiner, clearly not wanting to pick at fresh wounds.

  ‘Not for another week. Replacing the masts is a bastard of a job. My crew are fine sailors but middling shipwrights.’

  ‘Blood and ashes,’ said Tief. ‘We’ll starve before then.’

  ‘We’re doing the best we can,’ said Romola, ‘but …’ She gestured to the frigate. ‘Well, she’s not been in the best of shape for a while now.’

  Felgenhauer sat down on a nearby crate and sighed. Taiga wanted to do the same, but she feared if she sat down she might lose the little will that bound her together.

  ‘We’d best get to work,’ said Steiner. ‘What can I do?’

  ‘That’s the Steiner I know,’ said Taiga.

  ‘This way, Your Highness,’ said Romola.

  ‘I’m not going to make myself emperor or king, Romola,’ replied Steiner.

  ‘As you wish,’ replied the pirate as they walked on to the ship together and headed to the stern. The rail looked out over the sea and the endless miles of Ashen Gulf.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Taiga, pointing to the sky.

  ‘It’s a dragon,’ breathed Steiner. ‘And as far as I know, there’re only two dragons left in these parts.’

  ‘Kimi came back,’ said Tief. ‘Kimi came back!’ he shouted.

  ‘I sure hope she has some food with her, right.’ Romola raised her eyebrows at Taiga. Everyone remained silent as the dragon drew closer, and the sailors downed tools one by one.

  ‘It’s Stonvind!’ said Tief. The dark grey dragon descended from the cloud-blown skies, coming in low over the Watcher’s Wait. ‘But who’s riding my dragon?’ Stonvind circled around the dock and then settled down, wingbeats throwing up grit and debris as the creature landed. Taiga smiled, feeling the bright warmth of hope course through her.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Felgenhauer. Steiner was already moving back down the ship, almost running down the boarding ramp.

  ‘It seems Frøya may have provided one more miracle,’ said Taiga. Felgenhauer held up the blade of her hand to her eyes, squinting to make out the two riders dismounting from Stonvind.

  ‘I see Streig. And he has a fair few saddle bags with him. I hope they’re full of food.’

  Steiner was running as best he could, his bruised and battered body speeding him along the pier. The second rider met him and threw her arms around him.

  ‘Streig returned,’ said Taiga. ‘And he brought Kristofine.’

  The first ship arrived the following day, bringing supplies from Vostochnyye Lisy. The sailors had a battalion of questions, which Taiga and Felgenhauer answered between them. Steiner was noticeably absent, though none could fault his reasons. Slowly some semblance of normality returned. Houses were resettled as work continued on the Watcher’s Wait. Taiga led services of thanks and remembrance for those lost during the uprising. But most of all they got on with the business of living, not merely surviving, not fretting that Bittervinge might swoop down at any moment to end them with a single bite. They were living again.

  ‘No more Vigilants,’ said one sailor, barely daring to believe such a thing.

  ‘Some will still be out there,’ said Felgenhauer, ‘but who knows where their loyalty lies now the Emperor is gone.’

  ‘I think we have more immediate problems than Vigilants,’ said Taiga, wincing as a score of armed men rounded the corner by the docks. ‘Bandits.’

  ‘Leave this to me,’ said Felgenhauer, approaching the surly men with a confidence Taiga hadn’t seen since before she’d lost her powers.

  ‘Perhaps I should come with you.’ Taiga hurried after the Matriarch-Commissar, hands straying to her holy weapons.

  The armed men had not broken their stride upon reaching the docks, undeterred by the large number of sailors or the sour look Tief favoured them with from the prow of the Watcher’s Wait. One of the men marched up to Felgenhauer. He was older than the rest and, Taiga suspected, had a hint of Spriggani blood in him.

  ‘Felgenhauer,’ said Taiga quietly, ‘you do remember that your mastery of the arcane is—’

  ‘Gone,’ replied Felgenhauer as the armed man stopped before her and snapped a crisp salute.

  ‘Matriarch-Commissar Felgenhauer.’

  ‘No ranks today, Tomasz.’ Felgenhauer’s smile told Taiga everything she needed to know. ‘It’s over. The Empire is over and my rank along with it. I’m so glad you’re alive. All of you.’

  ‘We fell back to the edge of the city and then the gholes appeared. We’ve been licking our wounds since then. We picked up a few stragglers along the way.’ Tomasz grinned. ‘I take it you did what you set out to do?’

  ‘Steiner did, with his sister.’

  ‘The Stormtide Prophet,’ said Tomasz reverently. ‘Is she here? Can we meet her?’

  ‘She’s gone.’ Felgenhauer’s face twisted with grief. Taiga laid a comforting hand on Felgenhauer’s forearm.

  ‘Perhaps she has taken her place with the goddesses,’ said Taiga.

  Felgenhauer gave a bitter laugh. ‘I would never have believed you just three months ago, but after everything I’ve seen, yes, perhaps she has.

  ‘Come on now,’ Taiga chided Steiner later that evening. He had holed up on the upper floor of a cottage a street away from the docks wrapped in Kristofine’s arms, weaving the tale of what had happened as best he could, though the telling of it cost him greatly. Sharing the story with her, his victory and his losses, had shifted something deep within. At last he could breathe a little easier, hold his head a little higher.

  ‘I’m ready,’ replied Steiner.

  ‘Good,’ said Taiga. ‘And you, Kristofine?’ The tavern keeper’s daughter from Cinderfell looked tired but ecstatic to be back with her man. Her hand hovered protectively near the knife wound she’d suffered, but she stood tall and firm.

  ‘Let’s go and celebrate.’

  ‘More ships have arrived through the day,’ explained Taiga, ‘and they all want to meet you. Both of you.’

  ‘I hadn’t expected them to arrive so quickly,’ said Steiner.

  ‘It seems a fortuitous current favoured us.’ Taiga’s eyes twinkled with amusement. ‘The ships have br
ought food and familiar faces from Arkiv.’

  A festival mood had come to the docks. Sailors and captains drank to the end of an Empire that had taken sons and daughters, cousins and nephews. People supped small beer around improvised fire pits, cooking smoked fish and sharing good dark bread. Everywhere Steiner looked he saw men and women talking about the future, voicing their hopes and concerns. Steiner pressed his nose to Kristofine’s head and breathed in.

  ‘I am never letting go of you again, not for a moment.’

  ‘That’s as good a promise as any,’ replied Kristofine. ‘But what do you propose for the city?’

  ‘Firstly that we should rename it Port Kjellrunn.’

  Taiga nodded and smiled. ‘And what else?’

  ‘To break up the Empire.’ Steiner said all this slowly, thoughtfully. ‘Let the provinces rule themselves as they see fit.’ Steiner’s aunt joined them from the crowded docks, flanked by her cadre.

  ‘And who will rule Midtenjord now that the Emperor is dead and you’ve renamed Khlystburg?’ asked Felgenhauer.

  ‘You have keen ears,’ said Steiner.

  ‘And you haven’t answered my question.’

  ‘I was going to ask you. You have the age and the experience, whereas I don’t have the wit to read, and rarely do much beyond smashing things with a sledgehammer I can barely lift.’

  Felgenhauer took a moment to consult with her sergeant, Tomasz, and he shook his head.

  ‘We’ll rule together,’ said Felgenhauer. ‘Perhaps you could form a council, so none of us get above ourselves.’

  ‘A council. I like that idea.’ Steiner smiled at the high priestess. ‘Taiga, will you join us? I’m going to need someone to bring the faith back to Vinterkveld.’

  Taiga considered this for a moment and smiled back. ‘Of course, but I’ll need access to a ship.’

  ‘What for?’ asked Felgenhauer.

  ‘So I can visit my sister in Shanisrond, of course. She’s the only other high priestess in all of Vinterkveld.’

  ‘And Streig can head up the city guard,’ added Steiner. ‘With Reka and Tomasz.’ More and more folk were listening in as Steiner spoke to his circle of friends.

  ‘Fine by me,’ added Tomasz, emerging from the crowd with Romola. ‘Is there any more brandy?’

  ‘We definitely need more brandy,’ slurred Romola.

  ‘And there’s my minister for shipping,’ said Steiner.

  ‘I’d rather be eaten by sharks,’ replied the pirate. ‘I’m a captain, and my place is on my ship and out at sea.’

  ‘I suppose you can’t have everything your own way,’ said Kristofine.

  ‘You’re probably right,’ conceded Steiner. ‘Where is the brandy?’

  ‘It seems you’ve given this a great deal of consideration,’ said Taiga. ‘But you’ve not given my brother anything to do, and he’ll get old and fat if left to his own devices.

  ‘Nothing wrong with being old and fat,’ replied Tief, appearing at his sister’s shoulder. ‘And you can bet your boots I’ve earned it.’

  ‘I can’t persuade you to help out?’ asked Steiner.

  ‘I’m retired,’ said Tief cheerfully. ‘But I’m going to need somewhere to live. Perhaps an estate and a title.’

  ‘Anything you want,’ said Steiner.

  ‘Anything but Emperor,’ added Felgenhauer. ‘We’re all done with emperors.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Kimi

  Many folk in the provinces speak passionately about those times and the great upheaval in Khlystburg, but that was only a part of it. Volkan Karlov’s influence extended far and wide, even to the southern reaches of Yamal.

  – From the memoir of Drakina Tveit, Lead Librarian of Midtenjord Province

  It was five days after they had set out from Arkiv Island. Kimi sat by the light of a campfire in the Great Forest of Izhoria. The dark pines towered over her, barely visible against the night sky. The evening had brought clouds that bruised the sky in many shades of purple and black. Flodvind had curled herself into a crescent and Kimi rested against the dragon’s flank, tired from the saddle yet content.

  ‘Once I’d have been too scared to enter this place,’ she said while cooking some of the supplies she’d brought from Arkiv. ‘On account of the Grave Wolves. The first time I entered a forest in Izhoria was almost my last.’

  Perhaps in time the land will heal itself. Perhaps the arcane force that animates the Grave Wolves will dissipate.

  ‘I hope so,’ said Kimi. ‘There’s much of Vinterkveld that needs to heal.’

  Flodvind was taking the journey south from Arkiv slowly. The dragon’s constitution was formidable, but the wounds she had endured were many. She was not alone in this; Kimi woke each morning to a choir of aching muscles singing a litany of pain.

  This is not so much travelling as hunting in a southerly direction, admitted the azure dragon. She crossed her paws and laid her great head on them, cat-like in the darkness of the forest. The firelight danced across her scales, her horns etched in gold against black.

  ‘A girl has to eat,’ replied Kimi. ‘And heal. I’m fairly exhausted after Khlystburg. I can’t begin to imagine how you must feel.’

  My wounds are beyond counting but mostly I feel free. Free of the Emperor, free of Vladibogdan. Kimi felt the dragon shift behind her, trying to get comfortable. Does it not bother you that we are taking so long to return to your homeland?

  ‘We’ll return when we’re good and ready,’ replied Kimi. ‘For once I don’t feel as if I have a world’s worth of responsibility on my shoulders. I can take my time and enjoy things. Enjoy flying. Enjoy cooking this meal, this conversation.’

  You have been through much. Losing Namarii …

  ‘Was hard. I’m still grieving him.’ The pain of the dragon’s passing was still unbearably close to her skin, and many were the times tears had been her companion as they flew south. ‘And there’s more to come. But not tonight.’

  They spent another five days in the southern skies. Slowly Izhoria gave way to the river Bestnulim, like a sliver of silver between the two countries. The memory of fleeing with Marozvolk resurfaced and Kimi took a deep breath to ward off the sadness.

  There are a great many people below us and the buildings are very colourful. The dragon began descending, circling the encampment below.

  ‘It seems the Xhantsulgarat is still here. I’d have thought Tsen would have moved on, keen to enforce his rule far and wide.’

  Moved? How does a town move?

  ‘My people live in tents for the most part.’

  Flodvind circled lower. The people below ran for their homes. The shadow of the dragon raced across the encampment and Kimi’s anticipation raced with it.

  Are you sure you are ready to face your brother?

  ‘I think we’re about to find out.’

  The appearance of a blue dragon on the southern shores of the Bestnulim River produced predictable results. The brief stampede of panicking people ceased once they realized the great reptile was content to sit patiently on its haunches beside its rider.

  You are simply going to wait?

  ‘It’s better if they come to me,’ replied Kimi. ‘Else they think we’re invading.’

  There are only two of us.

  ‘True enough, but they don’t have a dragon.’ Kimi looked over her shoulder at the river, where a handful of fishermen stared with unabashed horror. Kimi waved cheerfully, which only served to confuse the men more. In time a delegation arrived from among the clusters and rows of colourful tents. An older man carrying a staff walked at the centre of the officials and representatives. Kimi recognized him; he was taller than her and more gaunt than she remembered.

  ‘Darga Bestam,’ said Kimi in her mother tongue when the delegation had ventured as close as they would dare. She bowed her head and clasped her right fist in her left hand. The big man smiled.

  ‘We’re not so formal this far north, my child. You may call me Chulu-Agakh.’
<
br />   ‘With respect, I’m not a child,’ replied Kimi, remembering the first time she’d met the Darga.

  ‘So I see,’ said Chulu-Agakh with a look of amusement. His eyes wandered to Flodvind and took a moment to revel in her splendour. ‘Now let me try to guess,’ said the Darga of Bestam. ‘Could it be you have come to join the tribe by Ereg Bestnulim? Or perhaps you have a dispute with one of my people? Or are you a long-lost relative, come back from abroad?’

  ‘You have a good memory,’ said Kimi with a smile. ‘I think you know why I’m here.’

  ‘I think I do. Come this way.’ He gestured to the centre of the city of tents.

  ‘I’m glad to see you alive,’ said Kimi as she fell into step beside the old Darga. A few of the officials in the delegation raised eyebrows in surprise; others muttered to each other in shocked whispers.

  ‘And I you, Kimi Enkhtuya,’ replied Chulu-Agakh. ‘It feels like a very long time since you left for Izhoria that night.’ Behind them Flodvind paced through the encampment with the grace of a hunting cat. A fresh surge of panic passed through the Xhantsulgarat and the officials stumbled as they realized a dragon followed close behind. ‘Your choice of companions has changed considerably,’ added the Darga, doing a fine job of hiding his alarm.

  ‘My Spriggani friends are still alive,’ said Kimi. ‘But not all of us survived Izhoria.’

  ‘Please accept my condolences for those you lost, Your Highness.’

  ‘My brother won’t appreciate you using that form of address with me.’ Kimi cast a wary eye on the tents ahead. Royal guards stood outside, hands on weapons, faces betraying their fear.

  ‘Your brother doesn’t have a blue dragon, Your Highness. And I think it about time we abolished the tradition that women can’t be Xhan.’

  ‘Strangely enough I was thinking the same thing.’ Kimi took a breath and rolled her shoulders. ‘Can I borrow your staff?’ Chulu-Agakh looked confused and bowed before offering her the length of heavy wood.

  ‘Tsen-Baina Jet!’ bellowed Kimi. ‘Worthless, treacherous filth! Drag your sorry carcass into the daylight where I may see you.’

  I had wondered about the plan. Flodvind snorted a plume of soot. I see you have chosen the subtle approach.