The Invisible Hand

by Chris Northern

  A crescendo of screams and curses followed but the pressed melted away and I staggered clear, tripped and stepped on something soft and yielding. I caught my balance, as my senses cleared and I came up from a crouch, blade raised instinctively before me. I could see bodies scattered across the floor, had almost fallen over one. The main fight was focused in and around the far corner of the hall. I caught a glimpse of Sapphire as he cut a ruthless path to where the shadow was dense, to where Silgar was masked by the darkness she had wrapped around herself. Within the gloom that spread out from her, I could see dim figures swirling, punctuated by glints of reflected light from armor or helm. Across the floor of the hall several of my men lay scattered, downed and bloodied, dead or too badly wounded to move. I resolved that if Caliran was here, masked by the shadow Silgar had brought, I would pass into it and kill him. A painful, slow burning anger gave me the strength I needed and I forced myself away from the wall. After the first few steps, Hetkla and Inesk passed me on either side. Enhanced, they moved faster than I could. Together they passed into the mass of shadow and became a part of the chaotic scene before I had more than half crossed the hall. Anger and determination were all that kept me on my feet and moving.

  A soldier staggered out of the shadow and caught his balance. He clamped a hand to a wound at his side, set himself and moved back into the fight.

  I took two more steps.

  I caught a glimpse of the healer, Vesan, where he leaned against a wall. His flesh was charred and his clothes smouldered. I couldn't tell if he was dead or alive.

  I jumped a prone body that lay in a spreading pool of blood.

  Two bulky forms bundled a woman into a half-seen hole in the floor. A glimpse of Caliran behind them, his glass eyes unnaturally bright, one hand wreathed in the pale flame of a spirit bound to his will. Inesk downed his man and turned to Caliran and his two massive guards.

  I slipped on blood and fell to one knee, pushed myself up and on.

  The pale flame in Caliran's hand flickered and faded. One of the big men helped lower him into the hole as the other drew a sword and turned to cover his escape. Inesk stepped in to engage the bigger man, dodged a powerful overhand blow. His own blade rolled over the bigger man's arm and he scored a neat cut that opened his enemy’s throat.

  I closed the distance, vision further dimmed as I entered the shadowed area.

  The man Inesk had cut staggered back, free hand clamped to his throat in a futile attempt to hold back a cascade of blood, sword held in front of him in a feeble defence. Inesk neatly switched his sword from one hand to the other as he turned away, slashed almost casually, opened a wound the length of his opponent’s forearm, effectively disarming him. Inesk's attention was already elsewhere as he stepped into the deeper shadow around Silgar.

  Nothing stood between me and the hole down which Caliran had escaped. My attention was fixed there, determined that he would not escape, that he would not take the hostages which were all that kept Resh Ephannan from becoming my enemy. I was four paces away. Still, I had no intention of going after him alone. "Inesk!"

  Inesk dropped into a crouch and spun, blade flashing to guard, ready to attack or defend. A great gush of water leapt from the hole two paces in front of me and washed out over feet. I let my instructions to bring men after me die on my lips. I stood a moment and looked down into the hole through which Caliran had fled, saw that it was now filled with roiling water, knew I hadn't the courage to go into that, even though Caliran and his men must surely not be far away and must be protected from it, must even now move through tunnels beneath our feet, surrounded by a pocket of air, holding the water at bay.

  I looked up. The dense shadow seemed to wash against the nearest wall and dissipate. In the sudden natural flicker of light and shadow I saw only Sapphire. He glared at the wall, chest heaving. Blood soaked his clothes and dripped from his hair, ran down his legs.

  I looked back down the hole, at the cold, fast moving water. If I hadn't tasted Darklake in the night, maybe I could have forced myself into it. Maybe if I weren't exhausted; maybe if I didn't have a clear memory of Sapphire, soaked and beaten bloody by a brief encounter with the flooded tunnels.

  The big man who Inesk had fought leaned against the wall, slid down it until he sat, legs splayed. His eyes were wide, fixed on me. I could make out his features now and half recognised them; a man I had seen but whose name I could not remember, made youthful by a melding with some unknown child. One hand was clasped to his throat, blood frothed between his fingers in a weak, irregular spurts; the other arm raised in mute appeal and raining blood on the floor. I turned away, indifferent to his plight.

  Parast stood beyond Sapphire, amid a small cluster of soldiers who methodically finished off the wounded enemy. The centurion appraised the situation, taking in both wounded and dead. I followed his lead, noted three of our men down and not moving. Another sat on a bench, elbows on knees and one arm clamped to his side, a red stain grew there and blood pooled on the bench. Fresh soldiers flooded the hall, began to tend to the wounded, exchange a word here or there. I could still hear hurried footsteps, the odd voice raised throughout the hall, fearful or questioning, reassuring or seeking reassurance. My gaze drifted over the enemy dead, and one or two men whom I could not identify as either ours or theirs, then Vesan at the far side of the hall. He sat with his back against the wall, charred clothes still smouldering. He didn't move. His eyes were open but he saw nothing.

  Sapphire sheathed his sword, failed on the first attempt. He limped over to stand close, his attention focused on the water that churned three feet below us at the bottom of the square shaft. He was covered in blood, far more than even the several small wounds he bore could account for. I had counted eleven dead of the enemy and wondered how many of those were down to him.

  "Forget it," I said. "I'm not going down there, and neither are you."

  He nodded absently then began to methodically check his wounds.

  "Vesan is down," I told him.

  He shrugged and peeled off his shirt. A knife appeared in one hand from somewhere and he began cutting the garment into strips. I could see it wouldn't serve, blood soaked as it already was. A wound on his upper arm bled too much for any bandage to staunch. "Here," I tossed my blade on a nearby table and stripped off my own tunic. He passed me the knife without a word and stood impassive while I made bandages and bound the wounds as best I could. I left the wound in his arm and another at his hip. Too deep; bandages wouldn't serve.

  "Silgar again."

  "She was already here. She had deepened the shadows, masked what they were about. The guards here slept; everyone slept. They just carried the hostages here," he pointed down at our feet, "and no one was awake to oppose them."

  "So you and Parast pitched right in, thinking you were enough for all... how many? Twenty?"

  He glanced at me and then away again. "Parast called an alarm, but we didn't wait. Everyone woke as we fought. The soldiers redeemed themselves," he glanced meaningfully at the dead. "Parast did well. They all did well."

  "Caliran?"

  "Silgar guarded him. Vesan cast a spell or two, but with so many in the hall there wasn't much he could do. Battle magic isn't meant for this kind of fighting. But then Caliran dropped him with a bolt of lightning from some spirit that filled his hand."

  I glanced at Vesan. He was attended by two men. One of them held him, the other held his hand, the necklace that held his stone dangled uselessly from it. I knew what the soldiers hoped, saw at once that they knew their hope was empty. Without a healer men would die who need not. I turned my attention back to Sapphire. He bled freely from the two deep wounds at hip and upper arm. "She nearly had you," I commented as I cast around to see who was close. With Vesan dead, Sapphire's wounds would need more mundane attention.

  "And I her," he replied, dryly. "Next time we'll end it, one way or the other."

  Inesk stood close to us. He warily eyed the hole over which we stood, as though expecting
something to emerge from the water at any moment. "Get me needle and thread," I told him. He moved at once to obey.

  "I'll do that myself," Sapphire told me, his voice flat.

  I watched him as he followed Inesk, and wondered if there was anything I could do to make sure that he and Silgar never met again. Considering how little I was able to affect events, it seemed unlikely. Caliran's plans were advancing, and my efforts to counter him failed at every step. Even knowing what he planned I was unable to stop him. The hostages would now be used to coerce Resh Ephannan to action, joining a coherent attack at dawn... I ruthlessly cut that thought down. It wasn't moonset yet and Caliran had made a successful play for the hostages; how could I be fool enough to assume he would wait till dawn to attack? I worried at it, tried to recall exactly what he had said to Sapphire, thinking he was instructing Silgar. Thinking I was dead, he had said, "At least that's done. Alert the captains, have them arm. Have them keep the citymen busy, spread them thin. By moonset I'll be done here. Meet me then and we will take Resh Ephannan’s people out of the hall and gift him with one of them." Well, the captains were alerted, his people in the town had begun to act to keep us occupied. Silgar had met him, helped him take the hostages, sooner than we had thought he would.

  I heard Parast issue my orders to bring all our men into the hall, effectively abandoning the town and its inhabitants to their own devices. Resh and his people would receive their token hostage from Caliran and doubtless bow to his will. They would enter the town and join Caliran's people, adding their numbers and increasing the threat to us. I looked around the hall and noted the civilians who had not made it out during the fighting. They gathered in the corners, comforting each other as they waited to see what happened next.

  What would happen next?

  "We will attack at dawn and finish the rest. When the Plain Lords arrive I want this ended. They will find only me here and accept me as the guardian of this Keep with a puppet chieftain in Darklake." Caliran aimed to meet the Plain Lords as the sole inheritor of the Keep, but Duprane was free to act. If Caliran kept to his aims he would try and hunt her down, would even now have some of his people assigned to the task.

  I frowned as I worked at the thought, tried to bring it into focus. If that were the most important thing to him, would he not have gone after Duprane first? Surely he would, and take his best asset with him to be sure of success. But both he and Silgar were here. It wasn't his primary goal. Then what was? What else had he said?

  "Tomorrow I'll have the money to pay you what you asked and you can head south. Agreed?"

  Money.

  Parast came to stand in front of me, his presence demanded my attention and I reluctantly gave it. "Centurion?"

  "Patron, if Caliran can enter the hall where and when he pleases, our position here is compromised."

  I gave an absent nod. It was true. Caliran could breach our perimeter and attack from within. He wanted the hostages and had come into the hall and snatched them away. A sudden audacious raid, coming up from under our feet to take what he wanted and slip away. My attention drifted away from Parast and I imagined Caliran pushing aside a flagstone within the treasury. Could he think to control the hostages and still have his men get the money? Could he really be that bold?

  Parast shifted slightly, as if doubtful he had my attention. "With Vesan dead, and our perimeter breached, I would suggest that our position here is untenable."

  I calculated distance. He could be there now, under the treasury as the spirit he commanded held back the water. The hostages couldn't go anywhere. The water trapped them and his men would be in the treasury above. Right now the hall was in disarray; were the guards stationed outside the treasury even there?

  I calmly took my sword from the table and began to drift in that direction. It wouldn't take but a moment to leave the hall and glance down the corridor to check.

  "Patron?" Parast questioned me.

  "I'm listening," I reassured him. "What do you suggest?" I asked him, absently, still thinking and acting through a fog of fatigue.

  "Vesan is dead and we have no magical support."

  I glanced at the dead healer as we passed him. There was no doubt of that, nor did I have any illusions about what a disaster it was for our position and for the morale of the men.

  "We have lost control of the town and enemies can enter the hall unpredictably."

  The place might be riddled with Silgar's tunnels. Caliran could move through them, and we could not. I knew that too.

  "We shelter people here with no clear idea if they are ally or enemy, and their loyalties might change without warning."

  Especially if it looked like we were losing, I thought.

  "We are isolated and vulnerable in what has become hostile territory. I suggest that we act accordingly. I suggest we abandon both the hall and the town," he sounded more urgent. The loss of Vesan changed everything. "The trading post is secure..."

  "I am doubtful of Lendrin Treleth's loyalties," I told him.

  That rocked him but he recovered fast. "Then I suggest we head north and re-join the second century. With magical support and sufficient men we can re-assess the situation and act with some confidence."

  Further down the corridor, nervous faces looked our way. I had promised to protect them and failed. I had held out the promise of freedom and wealth, and failed.

  "If we abandon Darklake, Caliran takes it unopposed. Resh Ephannan and the other clan chieftains will enter the town, solidly under Caliran's control. Lendrin Treleth will have his loyalties further tested and whichever way he turns, the trading post and all there are with him. Caliran sifts the people here, friend from enemy, and how will he deal with his enemies? Then, perhaps the Plain Lords arrive while we are absent, and finding only Caliran here, negotiate with him and unite against us. Now, tell me again why we should abandon Darklake to its fate," I stopped and looked down the long empty corridor at the treasury door, "but first, tell me why the treasury is unguarded."

  Parast stood close beside me. "They will have reacted to the alarm" he dismissed my concern. "Doubtless they will return soon enough. The hall is not a good place to defend," he returned to the point he considered more important. "There are too many people here and no room for manoeuvre. Any serious fighting here would be a bloody mess. We would be better served by leaving the town and building a temporary fort outside, or hold the pass and wait there for Meran and our second century."

  "And what about the people here who look to us for protection?"

  He lowered his voice and leaned close. "They are not your primary concern, Patron. Getting your command out of here in one piece is."

  I gave him my full attention, then. Noted the tension around his eyes, saw the set of his jaw, a hint of anger in his eyes. I tried to put everything aside, to see the situation from a purely military perspective. He was right; we were surrounded by potential enemies, maybe even here within the compound of the hall; and they were growing in numbers. On top of that, Caliran had a way to move within our defensive position with impunity and bring forces to bear where ever he chose. The situation had deteriorated to the point where it was untenable. And our healer and battle mage, our one essential man who gave us the edge over any enemy, was dead.

  I pointed with my sword. "If we cut off the head of our enemy, the opposition will wilt."

  Parast looked down the corridor to the treasury. He swore. "You think he's in there now?!"

  "He is," I was sure of it. "He has been plotting and scheming, building opposition and acting against us under our noses the whole time. It's what he does." I imagined him laughing to himself as he stole our wealth while we licked our wounds and recovered our balance. "Go gather some men. Quietly."

  He hesitated. "And if we don't get him here and now, then we leave and hold the pass."

  He hadn't made it a question. He was pushing it. "You really think it's that bad?"

  "Commander," he answered without inflection, "we can't hold here."
r />   I nodded. "So we won't," I told him. "Now get some men and maybe we can end this."

  "There's only one door," he reminded me.

  "So we go in hard and fast and get in amongst them before they are aware of it."

  "It's locked."

  I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes against frustration and fatigue and anger. To take the time to find Orasin and the key wasn't an option. "So we kick it in." The men were enhanced, not one of them should have a problem with doing what needed to be done. "Now go."

  He went.

  I slipped silently down the hall. I could hear movement within. The chink of coins as sacks of money were moved. A low chuckle. A hissed command. The scrape of wood on stone as a chest was lifted and passed down into the tunnel.

  The bastard was stealing my money.

  I gripped my sword and glared at the door. I set myself to wait. It wasn't easy. I wanted to kick the door in myself. Tension as much as fatigue made me shake. I set my balance, imagined the kick, booted foot planted solidly on the lock. I leaned forward slightly, attention suddenly fixed on the lock itself. And the key. The key was in the lock. I drifted a half-step forward as the door abruptly opened half-way and Orasin leaned out into the corridor. He saw me and froze. I didn't. His mouth opened to shout an alarm and his hand reached for a knife at his belt. At the same time he made to step back and close the door. He didn't make it; his panicked reactions were his undoing. I put my sword deep in his belly, gripped his tunic with my free hand, went with the thrust and pushed the blade deeper. At the same time I forced him back into the room, shouldered the door wide open. I felt spittle on my face. His eyes widened, and he gasped and wheezed and clawed feebly at my arms and chest. Behind him, clearly visible in the light of a lamp, were a handful of men, each burdened by a sack or chest. In the centre of the room a flagstone had been lifted to reveal a shaft from which issued the faint sound of churning water, doubtless held back by Caliran's magic.