The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  One of the guards on the door fell in and followed me, the other stayed put. They knew Anista was there, of course. I hadn't had to issue any orders on the matter; they weren't dumb. The guard grabbed a torch to light our way as I hesitated at the entrance to the hall. I didn't want to go directly to the guard I knew was incapacitated. I wanted to give no hint that I knew what had happened. I needed something else to do to kill a few minutes. Tomorrow, Meran would be heading out toward Battling Plain. I had a fair idea of what he would find, having travelled that way myself not long since, but it occurred to me that I might be able to send him better prepared than that, so I checked the guards in the courtyard and then led the way through the gate into the garden and checked the guard at the door of the priest, glad to see him alert. Without much more than a word, I pushed open the door and stepped into the darkened library.

  The torch the guard held threw my shadow ahead of me. I didn't think the paper and the torch a good mix so snagged a handy candle, intending to light it from the torch before gesturing for the guard to wait for me and stepped inside. For a moment I was disoriented, but my mind cleared when I closed the door behind me, my gaze drifting absently over the darkened gardens before focusing on the guard who stood before me, torch held high. I glanced to my left, frowning, to see the guard at the door watching me. Both men appeared puzzled, but I would bet cash that they were not half as puzzled as I. I held out the candle and the torch-bearer dipped the burning brand so that I could light it. The candle flickered and guttered in a gentle breeze but did not go out. Without saying a word, I turned back to the door and opened it, stepped through and closed it behind me, only to find that once more I was standing in the gardens, bracketed by two guards and illuminated by crackling torchlight. The candle had gone out.

  "Commander?" The guard holding the torch ventured to question my actions.

  I glanced at the door and back to his confused expression. "What happened?"

  The two guards exchanged a glance before the torch-bearer answered. "You stepped inside, Commander, then changed your mind and came out." He gestured to the unlit candle I held. "Perhaps we should enter before lighting the candle?"

  I frowned at him then stepped aside. "Go ahead."

  Again, the exchange of glances between the guards, then the torch-bearer stepped forward, opened the door, stepped inside, looked around for a moment, turned and stepped out of the chamber, closing the door behind him. It was a moment before he became aware of his surroundings, then he spun to glare at the door, swearing under his breath.

  "It seems that Caliran, High Priest of Hesta, does not wish to be disturbed in the night," I said mildly.

  The torch-bearer turned and locked gazes with me. "What do you suppose would happen if I opened the door and tossed this brand into a scroll bucket, Commander?"

  I looked up at the eaves and saw that it was as I remembered; tiled in slate. It would contain the blaze, but I could not be sure there would be a blaze. If he protected his privacy in the night, might not Caliran also protect his precious books from fire? Aside from which, I was wary about starting a fire in the town. Remembering what had happened to Learneth, it didn't seem like such a grand idea.

  "Tempted as I am, I think we will go around and try the other door instead."

  The torch-bearer nodded assent and lead off across the gardens. I'd had a mind to ask the guard if anyone had tried to visit Caliran during the day, but remembered that he would have made a report to the centurions and that information would have landed on my desk somewhere. I'd find out. I was suddenly far more interested in Caliran than I had been. I considered rousting Balaran from sleep and going back with him to see if he could neutralize whatever warded Caliran's chambers, but decided to leave it for now. As things stood, I knew Caliran was protecting something, and possibly hiding something, and there seemed no immediate advantage to tipping him off that I knew that.

  As we turned into the passage that led to the public ovens, two guards at the far end turned at our footfall and watched us approach, giving cursory salutes as they recognised me.

  "All quiet?" I asked.

  "Nothing to report, Commander," one of them allowed, his expression cautious. "Are you expecting trouble?"

  I shook my head, scanned the darkened town; I couldn't see much. The torch had ruined my night vision. The muted sounds of the town were few and peaceful enough not to cause alarm. "No," I said, and moved on.

  The torch-bearer accompanied me round to the front of the hall. Ten feet of bare wall stretched above us before being broken by shuttered windows, one of them my own. I glanced over my shoulder, noting that the two guards were tucked around the corner of the building out of sight. The guard at my side was suddenly tense, hand drifting to his sword hilt.

  "There should be a guard here," he breathed.

  We stopped and stood a moment as he scanned the area. There was not more than thirty feet between the hall and the first round-house. Movement nearby resolved itself as animals shifting in their pens, the scent of them drifted over us on the breeze, and a lamb cried out, followed a moment later by the deeper call of a ewe.

  "Sandir," the torch-bearer raised his voice just enough to be heard by the guards behind us and a moment later one of them came round the corner, hand on sword hilt, and quickly closed on us.

  Only sparing him a glance, I turned slowly, scanning the immediate area, wondering where Sapphire would have hidden his victim, and how he had managed to do that and climb the wall to my room without being heard.

  "Have you heard nothing?" The torch-bearer asked as Sandir came close.

  Sandir cast about, seemingly unconcerned. "Talin," Sandir muttered, "maybe gone for a piss?"

  "He wouldn't have gone far," the torch-bearer muttered, gesturing to the animal pens that were so manifestly close by. "If he's deserted his post the Centurions will have the hide off his back."

  Sandir considered this. "No chance, Galten; Talin's a veteran of ten years; knows better than to abandon his post." He eased his sword free and the torch-bearer followed suit. "We'd better find him, but leave off crying the alarm for now, hey?"

  Galten looked to me. "Commander?"

  I nodded agreement. "As you would were I not here," I said.

  They exchanged a glance.

  "Right, then," Sandir said, gesturing with his blade to follow the line of the wall. Together they moved forward, calm but ready for action. I followed. We rounded the far corner of the hall, the recessed face of the temple visible by the torchlight from within. The steps that led up to the pediment were in shadow, the wooden pillars that marched across the face of the temple making alternating lines of shadow and light. A guard stood between two wooden pillars, watching us.

  "See if he knows anything," Galten said, turning back the way we had come.

  "He won't," Sandir said, but moved off, swiftly crossing the distance. By the time he got there the guard he approached had naked steel in hand and was scanning the night for any threat.

  I elected to stay with Galten, who had his back turned to the temple and hall and was moving slowly away, heading for the nearest round-house and the animal pens by it, torch held high. Light reflecting from metal caught my eye. Galten had seen it as well and we both stepped forward at once, bringing the pool of torch-light with us. The sheep milled in the pen, disturbed by the light and crying out now en masse. Galten cursed under his breath. I gritted my teeth and said nothing. Talin lay on his back, hard against the fence, the hilt of his own dagger protruding obscenely from one eye socket. I made to step forward and found bare steel across my chest. "Your pardon, Commander," Galten said calmly, expressionless eyes fixed on mine, "but we will need Balaran to look at this before we mess it up, and the trackers. We have a couple of lads who are handy that way."

  It wasn't what I had been expecting to find. I nodded and the sword fell away. "We will find out who did this," I assured him.

  "Aye, Commander. We will."

  #

  "And I
am telling you there is nothing I can do."

  Balaran was testy. He had not appreciated being dragged out of his bed in the night for no good reason. We stood a little back from the body of Talin and watched the trackers do their work, the scene illuminated by the bright light of magically enhanced torches that Balaran had provided. Around us the night was busy; the Centurion on night watch had been alerted and the vigils turned out en masse to sweep the area and question anyone who might have witnessed anything. I'd had to curb them; one of their own had been killed and they manifested a tendency toward arbitrary and harsh measures. Beating people until they told you something seemed pointless to me; the victim might not have anything to tell. The inhabitants of the roundhouse close by had been the initial targets; over thirty women and children had been packed into that one dwelling and now they were lined up against the wall of the hall, under the hostile eye of soldiers wanting someone to punish. It had taken some persuading to make my men accept the possibility that they might simply have not heard anything. They had accepted that when I had pointed out that the shutters to my own bed-chamber were right over the scene and that I had heard nothing.

  "He must have seen who killed him, can't you access the last image he saw before he died?"

  Balaran was already shaking his head impatiently before I finished speaking. "This is why I loathe discussing magic with people who do not understand its workings. Pull the last image seen from a dead man's eye, Sumto? How?" He held up a hand to forestall me as I opened my mouth to reply, though I was only going to ask him how in the hells he expected me to know the answer to that. "Let me explain something. I know that you are aware of the spell used to give a soldier night vision; this is how it works; at the back of the eye there are receptor cells that react to different kinds of light. In some animals these cells have a different form and when we give a man night-vision we create false cells that emulate those of animals with better night-vision than men and for a time they rest among the natural cells and work similarly. When light strikes them they react, sending a small charge through the nerves behind the eye into the brain and the brain builds those numerous charges into an image. Knowing that, how do you think I can pull an image of the past from a dead man's eyes?"

  I'd barely followed what he was saying. "So you can't do that." I was partly relieved. I knew Sapphire had dropped the man and tucked him away, though I was confident that he hadn't killed him. That would be someone else, someone who had come across a helpless soldier in the night and taken the opportunity to kill him. I wanted that one found, but didn't want Sapphire implicated. Nor could I reveal that Sapphire had been involved. It was a fine line to walk and I was worried that Balaran might discover Sapphire's involvement through magic; though that seemed to be becoming increasingly unlikely.

  "People insist on thinking magic is some kind of miraculous cure-all," Balaran continued. "Really, it is merely a way of enhancing, adjusting and otherwise manipulating what already exists, and that it sometimes produces seemingly startling results is because most people have no conception of what reality is."

  I was saved from finding something to say in response by the trackers coming to their feet; one loped off at a brisk jog and the other stepped briskly up to us. "We have partial boot prints, mage. Inesk has gone for candles."

  "How many have you eliminated?"

  The tracker looked back over to the body of Talin and the mud and sheep shit surrounding him. "Talin's own, of course. Then we identified and discarded multiples that would be people coming back and forth to tend the sheep and drive them to pasture and back." He stamped his foot on the compacted gravel and shale that was the common surface within the walls of Darklake. "Bad surface for tracking but close to the animals there's softer ground where they churn it up and add to it." He shrugged. "There's two prints we were keen on, but the first was only just one print and that looked like it was deliberately obscured." He made a scraping motion with the sole of one boot and shrugged. "It's useless. Could be chance. Doubt it."

  Balaran nodded. "Get the impression in wax and we will see what we find."

  The tracker nodded assent and moved back to his work. I watched him go, thinking that the one deliberately obscured print would likely belong to Sapphire. I hoped so.

  "Where exactly is Sapphire?" Balaran said.

  I looked away, knowing I couldn't keep my face from reacting. I hate it when people act like they are reading my mind. "Scouting," I said.

  Balaran grunted. "Let's hope he has something interesting to report when he gets back from scouting."

  I gave a nod. "There are still potential threats out there," I gestured broadly in the direction of the gates. "Dannat for one; and Duprane is unaccounted for; and I doubt that the undead of the Grave could have slain all the Necromancers there were, even one or two who were at the settlement that night might have escaped them. Who knows where they might be and what they might be doing?"

  He kept his gaze steady on me. "Yet I would bet that there are none here, that they are not responsible for this," he flipped hand in the direction of Talin.

  For the first time, I gave it some thought. "How would you know one if you saw him? Take the black robes off him and put him in peasant garb and you see a peasant. The night at the Grave the undead were killing any in black, isn't that what Tahal said? What would it take for a Necromancer to spot that and react to it? It would be the work of moments to shuck his robe and soon after take other clothing from another, living or dead." As soon as I voiced the idea I was sure of it and a chill passed through me. "There could be more than one of them here, first mingled with the refugees I brought here but now..."

  "They could be anywhere," Balaran finished my thought. "Still a threat. How many could there be?"

  I shook my head, thinking about it and not wanting the intrusion of his thoughts on mine. They were few controlling many, but I had no idea how few. A dozen? Two dozen? I knew there were some still free to act; on the way north we had seen one controlling a remnant band of Alendi. There would surely be some few others south of the mountains. And they had a hold on several clans within the valleys, possibly not so far away. And in the north, how far did their influence range?

  "I think we have been complacent," I said. "To start we need to know their numbers, and we have people we can question to find the answers to that, at least. Then we need an accurate count of the dead. Did anyone think to count the bodies at the Grave?"

  "Sapphire," Balaran said.

  Of course. He would have. Sapphire had said 'Someone is killing people in the night. You have enemies out there.' Damn, he'd all but told me but hadn't told me. And I knew why. He had said it once before, hadn't he? You learn best from your own mistakes.

  "We will question the refugees and get an accurate idea of their numbers. I can contact Sapphire and get a count of their dead. Tomorrow I will write Orlyn and let him know that the Necromancers are potentially still a threat." Jocasta. My head snapped round to look south. Jocasta had ridden south with only Dubaku and a handful of soldiers as guards. How long had she been gone? How far would she have travelled? They would have reached Twobridges, a town that might be in enemy hands. She had stone, I reminded myself. She was with Dubaku who was far from helpless, and they were not alone. "Can you contact Orlyn faster?"

  "Yes," Balaran said. "I'll speak to him tonight, assuming he sleeps. I'll ask him for news of Jocasta, ask him to send a small force north to meet her, shall I?"

  "Yes." He had seemingly read my mind again. "Thank you."

  "I could use the forty thousand coin you owe me for the stone she has, by the way."

  I could feel my face flush with anger as I glared at him. My jaw felt tight as I gave answer. "I'll write an authority for you to take the money from the treasury."

  Unruffled he looked away, attention resting elsewhere. "Good." he said.

  I wanted to punch him. Instead I followed the direction of his gaze. Inesk had returned with candles. He held one close to the ground, he
blew through a thin copper straw into the flame, making a cone of blue flame that burned the wax fast enough to make a constant flow that dripped into the ground. He had melted two candles down to stubs before he was satisfied. When the wax had cooled to hardness Inesk gently picked up the wax impression and brought it to Balaran, who took it and looked it over, then looked around himself.

  "Are you ready?" he asked.

  For a second I though he was asking me, and wondered what he meant; then I saw Inesk had taken a step away from us and raised one hand in the air. In the distance torches waved in response. "Ready," Inesk said, turning away and moving back to stand nearer to Talin's body, eyes on the ground.

  Almost at once there was an almost imperceptible flicker of light, like the faintest hint of sheet lightning. I looked to Balaran, knowing he had cast some spell and knowing also that I had no idea what. Almost at once several voices were raised in the night, a single word "Here!" called at regularly spaced intervals. Inesk and the other tracker were suddenly busy. They moved around Talin's body and examined the ground nearby. Here and there I could just make out smudges of pale light on the ground. The trackers moved from one to the other of these, viewing them quickly and consulting. A moment later and they were away, into the night, each heading in a different direction.

  "What did you do?"

  Balaran glanced at me then back to the wax impression he held. "It won't last long, all activity generates heat, even so minor a thing as this. The wax will melt, the impression will be lost, and the markers will fade. Watch," he gestured after the trackers without looking and I stepped away from him so that I could see. The two men were both moving fast and I decided to go with one of them. I wasn't alone, in that. Several soldiers were moving in groups after the trackers, matching their pace and hanging back so as not to impede them. I joined the small group heading after Inesk, for no better reason than because I now knew his name.