by Tom Lloyd
THE DUSK WATCHMAN
THE TWILIGHT REIGN: BOOK 5
Tom Lloyd
GOLLANCZ
LONDON
For Ella Louise Wright
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Screw everyone else, this one was all down to me.
CONTENTS
What has gone before
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Acknowledgements (Part Two):
Dramatis Personae
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE
As the Farlan retreated from the battle of the Byoran Fens, Lord Isak chose to face his proscribed fate and stay to cover their retreat. He died at the hands of the Menin lord, who had been driven half-mad with grief after Isak killed his son, having goaded the Menin lord into sending him directly to Ghenna.
In the wake of Isak’s death, the Chief of the Gods, Death himself, incarnates on the battleground to gather those Aspects Isak had inadvertently torn from His control – the five minor Gods known as the Reapers – only to discover one, the Wither Queen, remains beyond His control. After her bargain with Isak, the Wither Queen has become too strong to be recalled. Fulfilling her bargain with Isak, she is far to the north, hunting Elves in the forests beyond Lomin, where she find the Elves are enslaving local spirits there to use as weapons. The Wither Queen subsumes these spirits and uses their power to bolster her strength as she looks to remain a Goddess in her own right, separate from her former master, Death.
In Byora, Doranei mourns his best friend, Sebe, in the company of Zhia Vukotic. Sebe died at the start of the battle as he tried to assassinate Aracnan on a Byoran street. He managed only to wound the Demi-God, but the poison he used is now slowly killing Aracnan.
In Llehden, Mihn, Xeliath and the witch of Llehden set Isak’s desperate last plan in motion: Mihn travels into the underworld to attempt to break Isak out of Ghenna. The Chief of the Gods permits him to pass through onto the slopes of Ghain, the great mountain at the heart of which is the Dark Place, the home of daemons. Mihn ascends to the ivory gates of Ghenna, crosses the fiery river Maram and enters the lowest domain of Ghenna, where Isak’s dreams have told him the soul of Aryn Bwr, captive in Isak’s mind, would end up. He is successful, but for them to escape back to the lands of the living, Xeliath, Isak’s love, is forced to fight the Jailer of the Dark, an ancient dragon bound there by the Gods, and is killed in the battle.
Meanwhile in the Circle City, Zhia Vukotic and her brother Koezh take the sword Aenaris to a temporary hiding-place out in the spirit-haunted fens beyond Byora, since the Menin lord disturbed its long-standing rest in the Library of Seasons and woke the maddened dragon they had set there as the sword’s guardian. The Menin lord himself, lost in his grief over his dead son, is ignoring the ravages of the enraged dragon, which is laying waste to each quarter of the Circle City. The Duchess of Byora and her ward Ruhen – a young boy who is in fact the vessel Azaer has taken as his mortal form – come to petition him, and only then is the badly injured Major Amber able to succeed in waking his lord from his all-consuming grief. The Menin lord agrees to free his newest subjects from the dragon, and Ruhen uses the opportunity to forge a link between himself and the man grieving for his lost son.
Azaer’s disciple within the Harlequin clans realises it’s time to lead them south, to add legitimacy to Ruhen’s burgeoning power.
In Llehden, Mihn and the witch bury Xeliath and try to coax the traumatised Isak back to his senses. Isak has been left broken and horribly scarred by the tortures inflicted on him in Ghenna; in the days after his escape he is a catatonic wreck.
Elsewhere, in Narkang territory, the Mortal-Aspect Legana has escaped the Circle City in search of King Emin, and she finds him at last as he is gathering an élite strike-team to send to Byora and kill Ruhen. The king believes Ruhen to be a vehicle of Azaer’s control over the Duchess of Byora, rather than the mortal form of Azaer he actually is. She and the king come to an agreement: he will provide sanctuary for her and her former sisters, the Daughters of Fate, and in return they will help his over-stretched élite assassinate Harlequins across the Land before Ruhen can twist them all to his service.
In the Circle City, the Menin lord discusses the next step of his plan to ascend to Godhood with General Gaur. They start a programme of murdering priests of Karkarn, and send an Elven assassin to kill Count Vesna, now the Mortal-Aspect of Karkarn, in order to weaken the God of War and ultimately allow the Menin lord to replace him. Once that is in play, the Menin lord very publically kills the dragon plaguing the city as a way to demonstrate his strength to the powerbrokers there. Elsewhere in the Circle City, Luerce – the principal disciple of Ruhen’s rabble of followers – meets with Knight-Cardinal Certinse, the leader of the Devoted, to offer them a solution to their crippling problem of a fanatical priesthood taking control of their martial Order.
As the Farlan army retreats home and Count Vesna begins to appreciate the full implications of becoming Karkarn’s Mortal-Aspect, he discovers Isak had left orders to make Fernal, a Demi-God and companion of the witch of Llehden, next Lord of the Farlan. Isak’s order includes a deal with High Cardinal Certinse, the newly established head of the cults in Tirah, but before Fernal can profit from this collusion the fanatics within the cults have the High Cardinal murdered, forcing Fernal to do a deal with the nobility instead, to shore up his uncertain position and avoid the tribe descending into civil war.
When Count Vesna does get back to Tirah at last, it is to a city almost under siege, as the religious factions are all struggling to control it. His first meeting on his return with Carel, Isak’s surrogate father, is fraught, but Vesna begins to realise Isak might have had a plan in dying the way he did; that he might not have thrown his life away as they currently believe.
In Narkang, King Emin is visited by the God Larat, who warns him that the Menin will soon invade and he must not face them in battle, so powerful has the Menin lord now become.
Not far away, in the sanctuary of Llehden, Isak’s sanity is slowly returning, helped in part by the gift of a puppy, Hulf, and the witch removing those portions of his memory that are too horrific to remain. However, with the loss of those memories go some remembrances of his life before his imprisonment in Ghenna, including his knowledge of Carel, and the damage this has caused to Isak’s mind becomes increasingly clear. Meanwhile Mihn hears the legend of the Ragged Man from a local girl, who presumes Isak is that figure out of folklore.
King Emin’s strike-force reaches the Circle City and attacks the Ruby Tower of Byora. Though they fail to find Ruhen, Doranei does manage to kill the failing Demi-God Aracnan. He is t
hen given a journal by his lover, Zhia Vukotic; the prize Azaer’s followers were hunting in Scree, for which they sacrificed the Skull of Ruling to possess. The journal belonged to Zhia’s mad brother, Vorizh Vukotic, who stole Termin Mystt, Death’s own sword, a weapon equalled in power only by Aenaris.
After the attack on the Ruby Tower, the Menin focus entirely on invading Narkang. Following Isak’s last decree, his troop of personal guards is sent to King Emin and a few travel on to Llehden, where they discover their lord reborn. King Emin makes his final preparations for invasion with Legana, while desperately searching for a way to defeat a man born to be invincible in battle. When the Menin do invade, they are savage in their assault. Frustrated by the Narkang armies’ refusal to meet them in battle, they decimate the eastern half of the nation, culminating in the wholesale destruction of Aroth, one of the nation’s biggest cities.
Azaer’s followers, Venn and the spirit of the minstrel Rojak caught in Venn’s shadow, make a deal with the Wither Queen for her support. In return, they break the bargain she made with Isak that constricts her. Luerce and a Witchfinder within the Devoted engineer the death of a high-ranking priest who had been containing the worst excesses of the fanatics within the Devoted. As the Devoted suffer increased oppression from their own priests, they start to remember their Order’s original doctrine: they were created as an army for a coming saviour. All the while, Walls of Intercession appear across Byora as the desperate and mad begin to see Ruhen as a saviour sent by the Gods in the place of a corrupt priesthood.
In Tirah, while Fernal agrees to break his mutual defence treaties with Narkang in return for the support of the Farlan nobility, Vesna and Tila’s wedding day finally comes – but before the ceremony can be completed, the assassin sent by the Menin lord strikes. Vesna survives, but the rest of the wedding party is killed before the assassin dies. In the aftermath he discovers there is a larger plot afoot as priests of Karkarn are also murdered. Now apart from the usual structure of Farlan society, not bound by the agreements made between Fernal and the nobility, he is free to continue the war Isak sacrificed himself for. Grieving deeply, he leaves to aid Narkang.
Isak is now partially recovered, and when he discovers he has the means to defeat the Menin lord, he tells King Emin. He halts the Narkang retreat and together Isak and Emin stand their ground at Moorview Castle. The battle sees terrible losses on both sides, almost shattering the allies, even as Vesna, accompanied by the Palace Guard of Tirah, arrives and forces the Menin lord into desperate actions. The Narkang mage Cetarn sacrifices himself to bait the trap, and Emin’s white-eye bodyguard, Coran, dies leading the charge to close it.
Isak summons the Gods of the Upper Circle and compels them to curse the Menin lord and strip his name from history, just as they once did to Aryn Bwr. He is not killed, but entirely crippled. Once divested of his Crystal Skulls, the Menin lord is transported to Llehden to take Isak’s place as the Ragged Man, leaving his army in disarray – some to fight to the death, others to flee.
CHAPTER 1
He felt it as a distant cry; an eagle’s shriek swooping down from the heavens. In his bones he heard it, rumbling up from the dark places underground to shake the very stones of the city. He stared up at the overcast sky, then all around at the courtyard. The veteran soldier found himself suddenly and unaccountably afraid. He reached behind his back and drew one scimitar, but the reassurance of it in his hand was eclipsed by a mounting sense of foreboding.
There was a clatter from the street outside and he struck blindly as he turned, but there was no one behind him. Voices broke through the soft patter of rain on stone, sounding confused and angry, but not like men ready to kill. Then the whispers started, running around the courtyard, and he turned a full circle, his scimitar ready, but saw nothing but empty ground and bare high walls.
The voices in the street grew in number; he heard broken sentences that tailed off into nothing. He felt suddenly weak and though he still circled, his movements were more hesitant as his knees threatened to collapse. The whispers were so close now, in his shadow. Cold fingers probed at the recesses of his mind. Instinctively he shook his head, trying to clear the sensation, but it had no effect.
A moment later the claws came.
He gasped and dropped his sword, clutching his head in both hands as tiny teeth started to tear at his mind. Their chill touch dug deeper and he fell to one knee. For a moment he was paralysed by shock and pain. He didn’t notice his own nails tearing into his skin, nor feel the blood running down his fingers. The greater pain was inside his skull: an icy fire that spread through his mind leaving a scorched trail of memories.
Now he screamed. Oblivious to the impact of stone, he toppled over. He convulsed, writhing on the ground as the claws rooted in every forgotten corner, rending with swift, dispassionate precision. Words from his past were ripped away. A memory of his proud parents flashed past his eyes, then their voices were empty sounds. He felt a name torn out and scattered to the winds. Eventually the pain receded, to be replaced then by a numbing cold; one that made him gasp for breath and shake uncontrollably. He lay on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around his head. Stars burst across his vision before the cold took him. Darkness wrapped itself around him and he sank willingly into its embrace.
He felt himself shaken awake and rolled onto his back. A hushed voice was speaking urgently above him. It sounded familiar. When he opened his eyes a whip-crack of pain flashed through his head.
The voice spoke again, a word he thought he recognised, but his mind was a mire. He tried to speak, but it came out only as a feeble moan.
‘Amber,’ the voice hissed, ‘Amber, you must wake up!’
He felt himself pulled into a seating position, but as soon as the pressure lessened he flopped back to the ground. The Land swam and blurred around him as he was hauled up again.
The voice didn’t give up. ‘Listen to me, Amber: you must listen.’
He was held steady, and now dim shapes slowly started forming before his eyes: a blank courtyard wall and a weathered face with light hair and a smear of mud on one cheek – a man he thought he’d once known.
The man crouched before him, maintaining a firm grip on his arms and staring hard into his eyes. ‘Amber, I need you on your feet.’
He didn’t move. He could not fathom the words washing over him, nor command his limbs to move.
In frustration the man shook him like a doll and clouted his boot to try and attract his attention. ‘On your feet, Amber – if you don’t get up now, you’re dead.’
He looked down at the boot the man had struck, then at the man’s own bare feet: they were mismatched. One was normal, the other a squat lump with fat little toes. The sight sparked something in his mind, causing him to flinch even as he said a name: ‘Nai.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ the man said encouragingly. He cast a nervous glance to one side before returning his attention to the stricken man. ‘Now you, your name is Amber – remember? Say it, say “Amber”.’
His first attempt came out as garbled nonsense as panic filled his mind. Name? My name . . .
His head snapped back as Nai slapped him hard across the face. ‘Say it, Amber. Say it.’
‘Ahh— Amber,’ he gasped as tears spilled from his eyes and without knowing why he started to keen softly until Nai struck him again, then grabbed his head to keep his attention focused.
‘There’s no time for that. Don’t think, just do as I say, soldier! Your name is Amber, do you understand me? Your name is Amber and you need to get on your feet.’ Without waiting for a response Nai arranged Amber’s feet so they were flat on the ground, then stood on them and hauled on the big soldier’s arms.
Amber felt himself lurch forward, but he was unable to do anything to help, instead concentrating on the one word he understood, the name he clung to with the desperation of a drowning man. He nearly toppled onto Nai, but the smaller man caught him in time and held him balanced.
r /> ‘A little help would be useful right about now,’ Nai muttered as he manoeuvred himself around and underneath Amber’s right arm. Before he tried to stand he grabbed Amber’s lost scimitar and slid it back into the scabbard on his back, then gave him a pat on the shoulder.
‘Now, push upwards,’ he said. ‘I can’t carry you all the way.’
Nai forced himself upright, and Amber felt his legs respond to the movement and straighten. For a moment he was standing tall before he slumped back down onto Nai.
‘Good,’ Nai puffed, ‘but we’d better try that again. I can’t carry you out of the city.’
‘I— I’ve lost—’
‘You’ve lost a name, yes, I know,’ Nai said in a softer tone. ‘It was stolen from you – it was stolen from us all, but you felt it worse than anyone.’
‘Wh . . . ?’ Amber tailed off, defeated by the effort of thinking as a swirl of unformed questions clouded his mind.
‘Now’s really not the time for that conversation. Come on, try to take a step forward.’ He leaned forward, trying to make Amber move his feet and take his own weight. The right drifted a little and caught on the ground until Nai knocked it with his instep and got his boot flat on the ground again. This time Amber moved forward on instinct and the weight across Nai’s shoulder’s lessened a touch.
‘That’s good, now one more,’ he said encouragingly, and the pair began to make painfully slow progress across the courtyard.
Once they reached the gate Nai stopped and looked up at Amber. ‘You’re not strong enough yet, but I need you moving quicker than that or we’re both dead.’ He edged Amber to the wall and leaned him against it to take some of the weight off his shoulders, but a moment later a second voice broke the quiet.
‘Hey, who’re you?’
Nai turned to see a man with long blond hair standing inside the half-open gate to the courtyard: a Byoran labourer, by the way he was dressed, holding a cudgel in his hands. The man peered forward, his eyes slowly widening as he looked at Amber.