“So when will the riot be over?”
“Soon.”
“And how can we be sure there won’t be another one?”
“Steps are being taken.”
“People are fleeing the city.”
“That’s unfortunate, but they will return when things go back to normal.”
“And when will that be?”
“Soon. Now if that is everything, I have a meeting with some members from the guard scheduled and I’m sure you gentlemen don’t want to get in the way of me resolving the current troubles?”
There was a general grumbling but no real disagreement.
“Thank you for coming. As you know, my door is always open. Now Vance here will show you all out.”
Erland stood nodded to the assembly then left through the door to his office. He felt but studiously ignored the glares at his back.
*****
“I thought we did okay there, Vance,” Erland said, sitting at his desk a short while later.
“As you say, sir. An uncomfortable meeting to be sure, but handled well.”
“Handled well? The city can’t afford a pay rise for you, Vance, no matter how polite you are.”
“Not to worry, sir.”
Erland studied him for a second but Vance’s expression was carefully neutral.
“I’ve not forgotten what you did.”
“Sir?”
“Warning the guard of the breach at the gate.”
Vance glowed for a moment.
“Is he here yet?” Erland said.
“Waiting outside.”
“How does he seem?”
“Tired, dirty, angry, wounded.”
“Wounded?”
“Not seriously.”
“Ah, good. You’re sure he’s the best man to report on the situation?”
“He was there from the start.”
“Okay, send him in.”
Vance walked to the door, opened it and waved the man waiting on the other side in.
A tall, grim, battered looking guard officer walked in with a noticeable limp, helmet tucked under his arm.
“Captain Remir isn’t it?” Erland said.
“Sir,” Remir said.
“I hear you’re wounded.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re limping.”
“I can still fight.”
“Good man. So Vance tells me you’ve been in the thick of it.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“So how bad is it?”
“We’re losing.”
“I thought we were holding at Cork Street? That’s what the last report I had said.”
“There’s a barricade.”
“It’s not been breached?”
“Not yet.”
“And the guard are mobilised and auxiliaries on their way?”
“So I’ve been told. I’ve not seen many of the auxiliaries yet though.”
“So too many people from the countryside joining in with the rioters?”
“No, the other gates are closed and for the time being we still hold all the wall.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The locals. They keep joining in unexpectedly. It’s getting impossible to tell friend from foe.”
“That’s troubling.”
“One way of putting it.”
“What do you recommend I do?”
“Declare martial law, restrict non-essential people to their homes. March the guard round the streets to clean up.”
“I have enough trouble persuading people it’s under control as it is.”
“It’s not under control.”
“I can’t close the streets, we’ll lose the support of everyone important inside the city.”
“If we don’t we risk losing the city full stop.”
“It’s that bad?”
“If local people keep joining in then yes.”
“So what do you recommend?”
“Close the streets.”
“We can’t. Other options.”
Remir paused to consider it. “More men,” he said eventually.
“We’ve already called in everyone. We’ve deputised all loyal officials.”
“Deputised officials?”
“Ink still drying on that order.”
“No offence, but we need soldiers. I hear there’s a legion nearby?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean that we’re not calling them in.”
“We’re not?”
“The sort of chaos that would cause would take years to undo. Not that they’re likely to help in a local matter anyway.”
“We’ll likely need help before too much longer.”
“I’ll send a message to the neighbouring governors. Maybe they can spare a few guards.” Erland turned to Vance. “Draft letters,” he said to him
“As you say, sir,” Vance said.
“In the meantime I’m sure that our auxiliaries will be enough. Many of them are retired soldiers anyway, experienced in this sort of thing.”
“Let’s hope so,” Remir said.
*****
“We need somewhere else to sleep then,” Daeholf said, looking back at the city.
“Pretty much no way in our out now,” Trimas said.
“Let’s hope Marlen’s not in there then,” Alia said.
“That’s not a pleasant thought,” Jonas said.
“Where are we going?” Zedek said.
“We need to stay nearby,” Daeholf said.
“You want to keep an eye on the rebellion?” Jonas said.
“It’s hardly a rebellion,” Trimas said.
“What would you call it then?”
“A riot.”
“Have you seen many riots then?” Alia said.
“One or two actually.”
“What happens?”
“These things usually burn themselves out, even if the officials are inept. Sooner or later there is nothing left to smash or the people get tired.”
“Unless they’re motivated,” Daeholf said.
“Unless they’re motivated,” Trimas conceded.
“Motivated?” Zedek said.
“If they have a cause these things can run a little longer,” Trimas said.
“Do they have a cause?” Alia said.
“Let’s hope not,” Jonas said.
“Why did it start do you think?” Zedek said.
“Riled up country folk. We discussed this.”
“No, but an actual riot. How do you get from angry people to burning buildings? These are people’s own homes. Where are they going to live?”
“I doubt there’s many setting fire to their own houses but I take your point. Sadly it’s not hard to go from a mob to violence.”
“I know,” Zedek said. “It just seems so senseless.”
“It is. Utterly,” Alia said.
“We’re getting off point,” Jonas said. “We do need somewhere to stay. I for one don’t fancy sleeping on the ground nearby all of that,” he added, pointing at the city.
“There’s an inn a few hours back up to road,” Daeholf said. “Hopefully that’ll be far enough away that they’ve not all legged it.”
“And if they have?” Alia said.
“We have an inn to ourselves,” Trimas said.
“We’re going to break in?”
“We’ve done worse,” Jonas said.
“No burning it down,” Alia said to him.
“Burning it down?” Zedek said.
“Sorry, private joke,” Alia said.
“Oh.”
They rode quietly along the road, watching the country carefully. Away from the city there was much less sign of trouble though they raised suspicious looks from people they passed. They got to the inn without much trouble and the road was quieter than expected.
“Looks open,” Daeholf said.
“No breaking in then,” Alia said.
“Good on
e,” Zedek said.
“Eh?” Trimas said.
“In? Inn?” Zedek said.
Trimas raised an eyebrow.
“Just me then?” Zedek said.
“Just you.”
“Doesn’t look like many people staying,” Jonas said, peering into the stable. “Only one horse.”
“Not popular then. Or maybe people are fleeing the area,” Daeholf said.
“At least we won’t have any trouble getting rooms,” Alia said.
They took their horses into the stables, surprised that there was no stable boy or hand to help.
“Self service? What’s to stop us stealing horses?” Zedek said.
“Do you want to steal a horse?” Trimas said.
“Someone might steal ours…”
“We’ll probably hear the noise. Yours doesn’t make new friends easily,” Trimas said.
“Finally useful,” Daeholf said.
Zedek patted his horse on the neck. “We have an understanding,” he said. The horse bared its teeth at him. Zedek shut the stall door and backed off. Alia laughed.
“Let’s get some dinner then,” Trimas said.
They made their way to the common room of the inn. It was almost empty. There was one man behind the bar and a drunken looking man slumped over a table in a corner.
“Ah, gentlemen, lady, welcome. What can I get you?” the innkeeper said.
“Quiet in here,” Trimas said.
“We’ve not had a lot of custom for the last few days.”
“Where’s your staff?” Daeholf said.
“Sent them home for their own safety. I’m not sure if you’ve heard but there’s been a little trouble in the area lately.”
“We’ve heard,” Trimas said.
Jonas was eyeing the drunken man in the corner. “What’s his story?” he said to the innkeeper.
“Arrived yesterday and started drinking. Normally I’d have kicked him out but his money is good and we’re not exactly in a position to turn people away at the moment.”
“So you’ll give us a good rate on the rooms then?” Alia said. The innkeeper winced.
“Good girl,” Jonas muttered. Alia grinned at him. Jonas was still eyeing the man in the corner.
“Trouble?” Daeholf asked him quietly.
“He’s wearing the clothes of a messenger,” Jonas said.
“So?”
“He might know something useful,” Jonas said. “Why don’t you all go and get settled and I’ll go have a chat with him.”
“Five rooms?” Alia said to the innkeeper.
“Top of the stairs,” he replied. “Pretty much whichever you want.”
“Fair enough,” Trimas said, walking towards the stairs. Daeholf, Zedek and Alia followed in behind him.
“Two flagons of ale,” Jonas said to the innkeeper. He waited whilst they were poured and made his way over to the man in the corner.
“Drink, friend?” he said, plonking the ales down firmly on the table.
The man stirred and sat up. He had the drawn look of a man that had not been sleeping and had been drinking too much. He looked at Jonas blearily. “Do I know you?” he said.
“Just a traveller hoping for some news,” Jonas said.
“All the news you need in there,” the drunk said, waving to a bag at his side, eyes fixed on the ales in front of him.
“Please be my guest,” Jonas said, eyeing the bag. The drunk reached unsteadily for the nearest ale. Jonas sat at the table.
The drunk took a drink. “Traveller eh?” he said.
“That’s right.”
“To or from the city?”
Jonas eyed him for a moment, deciding. “To,” he said.
“I’d turn around and go back the way you came then,” the drunk said.
“Oh?”
“Trouble.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m a courier sent with a message to get help.”
“Can’t be that bad surely?” Jonas said.
“It’s a rebellion.”
“Rebellion? Surely not. Seems quiet here.”
“Well maybe not a rebellion. But there’s definitely a riot in the city.”
“That probably won’t last long though, surely the guard have it under control?”
“Hah,” the drunk said. “The idiot general doesn’t even have dressing himself under control.”
“I’ve heard of him. Isn’t he related to the Governor?”
“That’s why he’s got the job.”
“Isn’t the way the Empire works funny.”
“Nothing funny about it. It’s all who you know.”
“So you’re a messenger then.”
“Yes, with an important message.”
“What’s the message?”
The drunk frowned at him. “It’s important, I can’t tell just anyone. I have a mission.”
“I see,” Jonas said. “Drink up,” he added. “There’s another here.”
“Mmm, thanks,” the drunk said. He swilled back the last of the ale in his tankard and reached for the other but slipped and slumped over the table again. After a moment he started to snore. Jonas smiled and helped himself to the man’s bag. He tucked it under his arm and walked towards the stairs.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the innkeeper said.
“Won’t be any,” Jonas said.
He walked up the stairs. Alia poked her head out from the nearest door.
“Anything interesting?” she said.
“Could be. Which room is mine?”
“Next to this one.”
“Thanks. Assemble the others and meet me in my room in a couple of minutes. This may be important,” he said, holding up the bag.
“You steal that?” Alia said.
“Borrowed,” Jonas corrected.
He entered his room and sat on the bed. Tempted as he was to just lie down and go to sleep, it was more important to see what sort of messages the Governor was sending out first. He opened the bag and took out a number of sheets of similar looking parchment.
“Something interesting turn up?” Daeholf said from the doorway. The others were behind him.
“Come in and let’s see,” Jonas said, handing sheets to each of them as they came in.
“Looks like a call for help,” Trimas said, reading his.
“Mine too,” Daeholf said.
“Same here,” Alia said.
“Looks like we’ve all got the same thing then,” Jonas said.
“A message to another governor requesting troops?” Zedek said.
“Yep,” Daeholf said.
“I can’t believe an important message like this would be entrusted to a drunk like that,” Alia said.
“There’ll be many messengers,” Daeholf said.
“Unless the Governor is an idiot,” Trimas said.
“I doubt he’s that much of an idiot,” Jonas said.
“Even so…” Alia said.
“I’ll put them back,” Jonas reassured her. “Looks like the riot is no nearer ending though if they’re calling for help.”
“I guess we’ll be here for a few days then,” Zedek said.
“The innkeeper will be pleased,” Alia said.
“It’s as good a base as any. The human waste drop wasn’t that far away so maybe Marlen is nearby. At least the riot will keep the watch out of our hair.”
“I thought we called them in to help us?” Zedek said.
“And look how that is turning out,” Trimas said.
*****
Marlen didn’t like to lose himself in praise of his own ego, but he was feeling very pleased with himself today. It wasn’t just that the man standing close to him had managed to insinuate himself into the goings on in the city, nor that he had been the last out of the city when it was shut down.
No, it was that he’d been successful in giving this man a fantastic memory.
Makern was sat in a chair, sipping on a drink, when he saw Marlen smiling at h
im. “Always pleased to be of service, sir.”
Marlen smiled, knowing the man hadn’t realised why he was looking fondly. A man who could read a document in seconds and remember it perfectly was a fantastic spy, and Makern had been able to study parchment on its way to both the Governor and the ‘General’, and of course report back to the good healer himself.
“You’ll have to excuse me Makern, I need to write a letter, it needs to be sent very quickly.”
“Of course. Do you mind if I ask to whom?”
“Yes, I do mind actually. This is secret.”
“Ah.”
“No offence Makern, and it is based on your intelligence. But I really need to keep a couple of my cards close to my chest.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t want me to get captured by, well, whoever this letter is antagonising.”
Marlen didn’t twitch, and he noted to himself he had a very effective way of stopping that which Makern didn’t know about. No need to threaten someone who doesn’t need threatening.
A short time passed before Marlen folded the note and sealed it with red wax. Then he handed it to a woman waiting by the room’s door.
“As quickly as you can.”
“Yes sir.”
“So, Makern, what is your plan?”
“The government have part of the city, hard to get in and out. The rebels have another, you can move in and out if you look like a rebel. Things might be different by now. I plan to get amongst the rebels and see what they’re doing.”
“Excellent.”
“A question from me, how is your work going?”
“Good, good. These events are very distracting, but they bring opportunities we have to be ready for.”
“Opportunities which I assume are secret too?”
Marlen laughed along with Makern. “Well, if you must start rubbing shoulders with pitchfork-wielding farmers.”
“They make a refreshing change. People risking their lives, doing something.”
“You’ve gone revolutionary on me?”
“No, I spent too much time with that rebel council. I wonder when they’ll crawl out. Probably don’t know what they’re meant to do.”
“I sense you’d like to do more than gather information for me?”
“Wouldn’t everyone want to? Such action.”
Marlen nodded. The seduction of the mob was working on his agent, and he shouldn’t be surprised. A growing number of people, from many lines of work, were casting off their lives to take up arms, sucking in more people. That old part of humanity which bound them together, to tear good and bad apart.
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 47
