“I think we've found a way of getting you inside the walls of Xianak,” said Andrian. “All of you,” he added, sweeping the room with is hand. His words brought Mudge’s mind back to the present.
He saw Ochren nearby, nodding. It looked like he knew the plan already, and it had his approval.
"You go in by the pilgrim gate," continued Andrian, "so you'll have to look the part. But if you go through in ones and twos, when the gate is at its busiest, the guards will only give you a quick once over."
"We’re good at pretending to be something else," said Mareet, with a laugh.
"And we should be able to hide our weapons under our pilgrim robes," said Liam.
Mudge turned to them. "This isn’t going to be that sort of fight," he said. "The Gorlen can't be stopped by weapons, at least not by so few of us.
“I need you with me, but not as a bodyguard. I need you to give me courage, and I need you to keep me alive."
"You underestimate us, boy," said Ochren with a grin. "We have a few rather special weapons hidden about us."
Mudge nodded. It was true he didn’t know the extent of the Ranger armoury, but this would become more and more a spirit war. He knew that for certain.
"I can help with the robes," said Butha quickly. "Any length of cloth will do, as long as it's white or white with yellow edging. It will have to cover the body modestly."
The travellers decided they would join the morning rush at the pilgrim gate. Butha assured them the robes would be ready for them the following morning, and she and her daughter would work through the night.
Andrian told them there was always a large crowd when the gate first opened. Pilgrims who had been travelling for days rested up outside Xaan so they could be fresh for the morning. They came principally for a circuit of the great shrine of Maat. It housed the holy relics of their faith.
Later that evening the company sat down to a fine meal Butha had prepared for them. They were able to make up for the limited intake they had been forced to endure over the last few weeks.
Mudge was quiet while he ate. He had no plan, and no real idea of what was waiting for them inside the city walls. He just knew they needed to keep going forward. First into Xaan, and now into Xianak.
He wondered how his father was getting on, with the Karnatic Defence Forces at Rotor Valley Pass, and how the Independent Kingdom forces at Thebes were doing. He could have sent a spirit hawk to find out, but it might give away their position to the Empress.
He could feel the strands of fate as they twisted tighter and tighter about him and his friends. It was almost unbearable.
SIXTEEN
The following day dawned beautifully clear. All the days had started the same way since they left the Scaffold Mountains. Xaan must be a nice place to live, conceded Mudge, at least as far as the weather was concerned. Still, if he survived this madness, his first preference would be to settle in the Wild Marches again. Shaker’s Hope appealed to him.
The travellers made their way to the pilgrim gate in the outer wall. Then they broke into ones and twos and lost themselves in the crowd.
Andrian had been right. The guards took no notice of the pilgrims as they gathered in front of the small gate in the wall. Then, when a bell sounded from somewhere inside, they were ushered through with no more than a glance.
"When do you think we should separate from the crowd?" muttered Bear. He had joined Mudge and Ochren once they were safely through the gate.
"When we see a few of the others turning off," said Ochren quietly. The river of white and yellow robes had turned left after the gate, and now flowed down a wide avenue. "No sense in drawing attention to ourselves."
"Over there!" hissed Bear, looking down so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. But his left hand rested against his waist, the thumb overlying curled fingers and pointing slightly left of the stream of pilgrims.
Mudge glanced in the direction Bear was indicating. He saw a line of tall figures in military uniforms scrutinising pilgrims as they streamed past.
“Gorlen,” said Ochren, speaking softly by his ear, “has to be.”
Mudge glanced further down the wide avenue. He saw tall spires above the great shrine of Maat. He had no intention of making a circuit round the shrine, he was more interested in finding a way to get off the avenue.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and saw the swirling red and black energies of the Gorlen ahead of them. The energy signatures were like those around the Sarkosay. There was no doubting the Gorlen, too, were the Empress’ creatures.
A wagon pulled out of a warehouse ahead of them. It turned in the same direction as the pilgrims were heading. Something jammed the brake shut, and the driver jumped down off the wagon. He kicked the offending wheel and wooden block, cursing loudly as he did so.
The pilgrims behind him were forced outward to pass him, and then several stopped to argue with him about his language. That jammed the flow of traffic even further.
Seeing his chance, Ochren slid in behind the wagon. He pretended he was inspecting another of the wheels. Bear and Mudge began to chant nonsense rhymes, swinging their arms over their heads at the same time. It was the signal to gather here that the travellers had agreed on.
The pilgrims were from all over Xaan, and beyond. Ochren figured they weren’t going to object to the religious practices of another group of worshippers. One by one, the rest of the company made their way to the side of the avenue. They gathered quietly behind Ochren, like flotsam caught in the gentle swirl of a backwater.
Seizing the moment, Ochren ushered them into the warehouse beside the wagon. Looking like a man with a purpose, he pointed toward the loading docks in the back. Then he strode off in that direction, and the others followed.
They stepped off the loading docks into a quiet back street.
Mudge looked round, trying to get his bearings. He opened his spirit senses to see where the Empress was. She was still in the Royal Palace, but there were many swirling red and black points between him and his destination. Gorlen or Sarkosay he didn’t know.
A few minutes later he was torn from his review of the area by the sudden appearance of a troop of Gorlen. They came round the corner from the next street at a trot, and headed straight for the pretending ‘pilgrims’. Mudge realised with a sinking feeling the Empress could trace him whenever he used his spirit senses. She had sent the nearest troop of Gorlen straight toward him.
Bear pushed open a door next to the loading docks. He dived through it, dragging two of the others with him. Galvanised into action, the rest followed. One of the Gorlen pushed its way in behind them, then Bear slammed the door shut.
Pandemonium reigned. Bear and Liam dragged some heavy shelves in front of the door, and the Gorlen that were still outside attacked the door with every weapon they had. The creature trapped inside the room towered over them. It swept Colma aside as it drew its sword, throwing him into Mudge. Bear ripped his pilgrim robes off and drew his sword, and the others followed suit.
Knocked to the floor, Mudge was still able to see Ochren slice the Gorlen’s belly open. It didn’t seem to slow the creature at all. There was no blood, just a grey, gaping wound. The Gorlen returned a blow that knocked Ochren aside like he was made of straw.
Gods they were strong, thought Mudge, as he scrambled out of the way. He took up a position at the back of the room, a large structure that appeared to be a storeroom.
The Gorlen turned its attention to Bear, who made a deep cut across its shoulder, but that didn't slow the creature either. To Mudge it looked, incredibly, like the cut across its belly was beginning to heal. He wondered if the Rangers could stop such an unnatural creature.
Ochren sheathed his sword and lifted a glittering string out of the carry-all at his waist.
The storeroom was inside the larger area of the warehouse, and wasn't closed in overhead. Light from the loading bays was enough to show many sparkling reflections as Ochren twisted the bare ends round his hands. Picking his m
oment he stepped behind the Gorlen, and flicked the string over its head. Then he sawed vigorously back and forth across its neck.
Mudge watched in fascination as the string worked its way through the creature’s thick neck. Then a forward lunge at Bear dislodged its head completely. They Rangers drew back, waiting for the creature to collapse on the floor, but losing its head had no effect on the Gorlen whatsoever.
The disfigured body struck out at its attackers again and again. They were immensely powerful strokes, though the Gorlen wasn't as fast as the Rangers. Only the number of its assailants, constantly badgering it from all sides, kept it confined to one corner of the storeroom.
Mudge heard a crash from an outside wall, and saw one of the roughly adzed planks splinter between two of the uprights. It wouldn’t be long before the Gorlen smashed a way in to help the one inside.
Mudge saw the Gorlen dodge ponderously to one side to avoid a blow from Bear. He looked again. Something was bulging upwards between its shoulders. The damned thing was trying to grow a new head!
A number of broken lances were piled together in one corner of the room. Colma grabbed the long shaft of one, and called something to Bear. Bear ran to grab it with him. Together they drove the lance between Ochren and Liam, hitting the Gorlen low in the chest and driving it back.
The creature hit the wall behind it, and was held there. They drove the shaft right through its body, and into the wall. There was a crunching noise. Mudge felt, more than saw, a blur of red and black energies flicker for a moment and disappear.
The Gorlen toppled to the ground and didn't move. Ochren kicked at an outstretched leg. There was no response.
“Turn it over,” said Mudge. “Quickly.” Judging by the noise outside, the other Gorlen were close to breaking into the storeroom.
He bent down and cut the rough fabric away from the middle of the creature’s back. A large crushed shell, dripping gore, sat inside a hollow he found there.
“Slave spirit,” said Mudge. He was pleased to see his guess had been right. He had no idea what they were, but they weren’t natural. The Empress must have brought them into this world with her.
The slave spirits took in enough information through their spirit senses to make the Gorlen function in the real world. That was how they carried out the Empress’ commands.
At least he knew how to stop the Gorlen now, but a crash of splintering wood announced the Empress’ creations had breached the outside wall. The first one entered the storeroom.
When Mudge looked up, several of the creatures were advancing in formation. Ochren decided this was not the time to stand and fight. He signalled a retreat, and Bear opened a door into the main body of the warehouse.
The travellers stopped outside the storeroom as they saw a large circle of Xaanians who’d come to see what the commotion was all about. Ochren realised these people were simply curious. He led the travellers at a run to the loading docks on the right. They were soon out on the same back street as before.
They had all ditched their pilgrim robes, and their Ranger clothing was going to be conspicuous, though here in Xaan it was unlikely anyone would know exactly what it meant.
Ochren led them quickly through a number of streets in an effort to lose their pursuers. He was looking for somewhere they could hole up and plan what to do next. He turned a corner and dodged into a small eating establishment. It was not yet open.
“Bear and Liam, scout the back and bring anyone you find out here," he said tersely. "Senovila, organise the others to get those storm shutters up."
Mudge looked round. The shop was a basic food outlet. Rough tables were not yet covered with cloth for the day's customers, and simple stools leaned against the wall after last night’s cleaning. Fire pits at the back of the room contained cold ash.
Small openings in the mud-plastered wall facing the street were equipped with storm shutters. Mudge figured sandstorms must occasionally blow in off the Endless Desert. Colma and Mareet already had most of them closed.
"This is all we could find," said Bear, ushering in two adults and two children. "A family I think, but my Xaanian isn't really up to it."
“Sudenia que?” he asked his captives.
"Not a family," said the girl earnestly. "I am betrothed to Mustaf. It is my duty to work for his father."
Ochren and Senovila exchanged glances. They understood what she was saying. In Xaan children were betrothed while very young, though the marriage did not take place for years. It was quite common for the girl to be taken in by the boy's family.
Senovila got the names, and set the family to work making a meal for the travellers.
"Tell them we won't be here long," said Mudge. "Tell them we mean them no harm, and say they'll be paid for feeding us."
Ochren nodded. It was what he intended to do anyway.
Mudge retreated to one corner of the room to think. He had something of a dilemma to sort out. The Empress could trace him, at least this close, if he engaged his spirit senses. Yet what they had learned about the Gorlen had to be sent to his father as soon as possible.
Mudge had done the sums. There must have been close to three hundred Gorlen in the barracks when he first came to the Royal Palace. When he had checked his internal map earlier that morning, he had counted no more than fifty of them in Xianak. The rest would have been sent to the front lines to fight against the League, or the Independent Kingdoms.
Mudge smiled. Sending the Gorlen to the front lines probably meant the war wasn’t going so well for the Empress. He raised a silent cheer for his own side.
Nevertheless, he was going to attract the Empress’ attention the instant he sent a spirit hawk, and that would put the company in danger, again. He needed to send the spirit hawk when he was alone, and if they didn't meet up again, his friends could make it out of the city and back to the League lines. They deserved that.
Mudge beckoned Ochren over, and told him what needed to be done. He stated his intention bluntly, and he thought he left no room for discussion. Nonetheless, Ochren raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath to dispute the point.
"That's an order, soldier," snapped Mudge. "Don't remind the others they’re sworn to support me in my mission, then argue the point when I tell you what I need you to do!”
Ochren subsided, though he was clearly not happy with Mudge's decision.
"Don't tell the others until I'm gone," said Mudge. "We haven't got time to sit around reaching agreement on this one."
Ochren nodded reluctantly.
Mudge clasped the Ranger’s arm, and Ochren returned the salute. A little later the others gathered round Ochren at one of the tables, ready to talk about what they would do next. Mudge saw his opportunity and slipped out the door onto the street. Then he blended in with the citizens of Xianak.
He turned into two more back streets before he came across another warehouse. He ducked into a loading bay, and heard voices laughing in a room at the back. He made his way into the main storeroom and hid himself where the goods were piled highest.
Once he was well hidden, he relaxed, and stilled his mind. Then he reached out with his spirit senses for his father. He intended to send a spirit hawk, but as before he found himself looking through a window that opened abruptly in front of him.
The instant he opened the spirit window, Mudge felt the presence of the Empress. He felt the rage that drove her constantly on, and the intensity of her search for him. The Keeper Stone closed about him, shutting her out.
Mudge brought his attention back to the connection with his father. He saw the startled look of the man next to Ultrich. Then he saw the faces of a number of Hill Tribes chiefs in the background.
He recognised Krell, the high chief of the tribes. It took a moment for him to realise Ultrich and Krell must be conducting a meeting in Krell’s tent. Then he remembered the superstition with which the Hill Tribes regarded spirit walkers. His timing, as always, was terrible.
For a moment he was tempted to laugh
bitterly, thinking how well he was proving himself the Unsound Prince, all over again.
"What is it, Rossi?" said the Legatus calmly. Mudge saw at once the skill his father had as a leader. By reacting calmly to the unknown he was setting a standard for the sort of reaction he expected, and the chiefs would not want to fall short of it.
"My apologies for the sudden intrusion," said Mudge humbly. Then he outlined the threat he believed was marching on the League positions, and possibly the Independent Kingdoms. When Ultrich and Krell had grasped that, he explained how to kill the Gorlen.
Ultrich raised his eyebrows. This was pivotal information indeed.
A burst of scarlet energies tore at the shield the Keeper Stone had built around Mudge. The Legatus stepped forward, immediately concerned.
"That feels wrong, even from here," he said quickly. "Is everything all right, Rossi?"
Mudge looked round him in the warehouse. The swirling energies of the Empress’ attack had set stacks of cloth on fire. Startled shouts emerged from the men in the back room he had heard earlier. There was the sound of running feet. He turned back to Ultrich.
"No, it's not all right," he said quietly, "but that's my problem. You’re going to have enough on your plate with the Gorlen."
He looked at his father with a touch of sadness, tinged with pride.
"If you really believe in those things you used to talk about, in that which created the world, put in a word for me," he said simply.
Ultrich nodded, and Mudge closed the window.
A scarlet whirlwind pulsed and arced around him. The warehouse grew indistinct, and Mudge sensed a build-up of energies that would lead to a spirit jump. He thought for a minute of making himself immovable, fixed in space and time, but that would only put off the inevitable. The confrontation with the Empress must come sooner or later.
Then Luce and Jago were with him, holding his hands, dancing around him. They were laughing at the difficulty of the situation, and then the whirlwind of red and black energies constricted more tightly. Mudge pulled his friends close, making a centre of sanity in the storm.
The Unsound Prince Page 21
