'You said a man can change, young Kapp,' Munio mumbled, his gaze still to the ground. 'You can never completely change who you are. I will take my place in this world as a bastard, willingly, and for that I can… I can only apologize.'
'Money', Howls interjected, 'is a great leveller, but you three are too young to understand that just yet. Right then, from here you'll be taken to Villjamur to face charges. I think you'll know what's likely – you'll be slaughtered on the outer wall of the city – and Urtica has asked to perform the task himself this time. I believe, his words were "This is personal", which means we must keep you alive for the time being.'
'You realize', Randur muttered, 'that we're innocent in all of this.'
'Of course you are,' Howls replied. A smile. 'Go into any gaol and they will say the same thing.'
Just then a bass groan seemed to deconstruct the air around them.
Suddenly a man – or something resembling one – landed in their midst, collapsing down to one knee to break his fall. His impact with the ground could be felt by all. The figure remained there for a moment longer, head down as if in prayer, a dark cloak enveloping him.
Lithely, he stood up, clearly taller than any soldier there. Seven feet at least, he had long black hair, and his skin was a pale blue, his cheeks so sunken they seemed stuck to the bone. As he scanned his surroundings his eyes resembled two lumps of charcoal. He turned to reveal that he was dressed in exotic military clothing, a metallic X binding him across the chest. Casually, the new arrival withdrew two sabres from over his shoulder, fat blades that were twice as long as any Randur had ever seen, let alone used.
Soldiers all around unsheathed theirs in response.
'You are Jamur military?' this apparition asked, a grating tone that was almost painful to listen to.
'Uh, technically, it's Urtican military now-'
'Very well. It matters little.' The speech was slow, as if the intruder was practising the Jamur language from scratch.
'True. A different wax seal on our orders, mainly.'
'Quiet, Felch.'
'Sorry, sarge.'
'We've no business with you, whoever you are,' Sergeant Howls grunted, advancing slowly towards the stranger.
'Leave these individuals – the females. Be on your way. No harm will find you.'
'Impossible.' Howls scowled. 'We have orders from Emperor Urtica himself to return these prisoners to Villjamur.'
'If that is the case,' the stranger appeared to be in deep thought, 'then I will have to eliminate you.'
Randur was bemused by the creature's arrogance. Who the hell is this thing, trying to save us? Not that he was complaining, assessing the size of the bugger. Rather have him on my side in a scrap…
'You', Howls sneered, 'against a hundred Imperial soldiers?'
'It seems unfair. Yes. But I have warned you. Do not say that I have not given you a chance to submit to my will.'
'Fuck this,' Howls grunted, then gave a series of quick, sharp orders to his men.
A flurry of activity from the soldiers as they moved effortlessly, with a programmed discipline, along the perimeter of the clearing. Their ranks soon totally obscured the blue-skinned figure, all except for its head. Dozens of arrows began snapping through the air, and Randur could see the edge of the immense blade the stranger had brought with him as its swing-arc became a silver blur.
Everything seemed to happen slowly.
A staccato pinging of metal rang out, and a first line of ten soldiers surged towards the stranger – before they fell rapidly, their bodies ripped and broken. Randur had never heard so many men screaming at once. They moved forwards, they died. This stranger was a deadly presence.
The creature's blade flashed horizontally, severing two heads. Soldiers on the opposite flank paused in terror.
Blood flecked the snow ever more densely, as further men collapsed, some even dying as they sought retreat, their backs carved open, their spines severed. Without discipline, they now attacked in twos and threes, but gained little ground on the creature, the reach of its blades being so great.
Randur watched in horrified awe.
Screams eventually faded. It didn't take much to realize what was going to happen. Randur almost willed the next two men to flee, but, with both weapons gripped in one hand, the creature picked up one of the soldiers by the throat with the other, crushing his windpipe with one fist, while he skewered his blades into the stomach of the second. The man dropped lifeless to the ground, the other fell apart in two separate sections.
Several soldiers could be seen retreating into the darkness of the forest, and then there fell a perfect silence, not even allowing the sound of bird-call. Randur peered around for some sign of Munio, but the coward had already made his escape. Munio Porthamis had always been – and perhaps would eternally be – a fucker.
Randur's heart throbbed as the blue-skinned man turned to face them. With precise steps that showed no regard for the varying depth of snow, the large figure advanced towards them. Don't say anything stupid, Rand. Not now – not ever.
Their rescuer paused before them, Randur seeing its features clearly for the first time. Its skin was the same shade as purpling dusk, and the eyes lacked pupils so it was difficult to know who it was looking at. There was a gesture made towards the two girls, and Eir stepped in front of her sister.
It said: 'You are heirs to the Jamur lineage?'
They nodded.
'Very well. It has taken me far too long to track you down since you fled the city. I am Artemisia, an agent of the Truwisa.' They stared blankly at him. 'My words mean nothing to you?'
The women shook their heads, and all Randur could do was stare at the blood drenching the stranger's clothing. Underneath the blood, glimmered material like silver chainmail, yet it was clearly some type of embroidered fabric. Deep cuts severed the material at the sleeves, and there was a gash across the creature's chin and several scars across the cheeks and forehead, but whatever it was it gave no signs of being in pain, and it seemed perfectly at ease amid the human wreckage.
'At least it is not my own blood,' the being grunted, following Randur's gaze. 'Or yours, for that matter.'
'True,' Randur admitted. 'It's just that… you know, we're, uh, not quite sure what to think of some man just falling out of the sky.'
'I am female… And maybe it is best if you do not think of anything for the moment. Now, let us move further into the clearing.'
'Perhaps', Randur suggested, 'you could help get rid of these chains first?' The creature leaned over, and with an effortless tug pulled the metal apart.
'Very kind,' Randur said, stunned at the display of strength.
They stepped across the fresh graveyard, where limbs lay ripped and broken all about them, a glade of the dead. Rika could not bear to lower her gaze.
'I have been following you ever since Villjamur,' Artemisia repeated. 'All in all, this escape of yours has upset my plans greatly. Had you remained inside your little city then the task would have remained simple. As it is, I have had to follow your trail. It has not been easy.'
'Sorry we inconvenienced you…' Randur offered bitterly. 'Spot of bother with the business of trying not to die-'
'You talk too much, Earthlander.'
'There's no point in trying to silence him,' Eir muttered.
Randur grunted. 'Look, very nice of you to help us out, uh, Artemisia? But… any chance of an explanation?'
'I do the questioning around here, Randur Estevu – if that is still the name you go by.'
'How do you know my name? And how did you know they were from the Jamur family?' He nodded towards the sisters.
'I often wonder,' Artemisia replied, 'how it is you people know so little. I employ a network of sub-agents and lower-rank emissaries from your world – even from Villjamur – although they know not who they ultimately serve.' She pointed them to the spot in the clearing where she had first appeared, and turned her face skyward.
Randur ste
pped alongside, and followed her line of sight. 'I don't see anything.'
Suddenly something flickered into being up there, a hulking dark shape immediately beneath the clouds. The three humans were soon staring, dumbstruck. How could anything so big just hover there without falling?
Eir finally broke the silence, as she spluttered, 'What… what is that?'
'Exmachina,' Artemisia growled. 'A home, of sorts, for the present moment.'
Eir turned to Randur, to see if he knew what Artemisia was talking about, then shrugged. Rika seemed to be completely in awe of this female giant, which was strange, since she was seldom disconcerted by anything.
Randur studied further the freakish object in the sky. It had the appearance of a small moon, assuming an inverse colour to the sky beyond. As it approached it took on the form of some fat longship, incomprehensibly large, extending widely across the sky. A floating island. Its presence was intimidating and he was becoming genuinely frightened.
Still some distance away, something unravelled down from it to eventually reach the ground by Artemisia's feet. Then another rope followed.
Suddenly the big woman twisted round: there'd been a disturbance in the distance that provoked her. Her head became perfectly still, and she held a big hand out to request silence. Faintly, somewhere, Randur thought he could hear the sound of a pipe. He reached down to pick up a sabre discarded in the recent combat.
Artemisia frowned at him. 'That won't do you much good.'
'You anticipating much of a threat?'
'One could say that, Randur Estevu. There have been certain forces tracking me ever since I've stepped into this blasted world. How they have managed it, I do not know.'
What is she on about, stepping into this world? Randur wondered, sure he could now see something flicker between a couple of tree trunks. He tensed. 'What's after you?'
'Satyr,' Artemisia whispered. 'Do not move for your own safety.' She edged over to the rim of the clearing. There, in the shadows, stood a bearded man that appeared to have animal legs. Two horns extruded from his skull, and his angular features displayed signs of laughter.
Artemisia unsheathed one of those massive blades and stepped after it, but in an instant it had escaped back through the foliage, bursting into the deep forest beyond.
She returned to the hanging rope, and there was a sudden urgency to her manner. 'A minor inconvenience, but it worries me. It isn't after you, it is after me, so we must evacuate immediately. You must hold on to this.' She indicated the rope. 'The fibre will adhere to your skin, so you will not slip off.'
'What, you don't expect us to go up there, do you? Wind's strong enough to blow your arse off, I bet. Surely there's another way of getting to… wherever the hell you want us to go? Can't you suggest something else?'
Artemisia glared at him, eyes burning. Her body was still smeared with the blood of a hundred men. 'Why?' she grunted. 'Do you even have a choice?'
'Good point, that.' Randur shrugged.
There wasn't much else going for them, really. They'd narrowly escaped being carted back to Villjamur: a depressing enough fact. Now this killer had fallen from the skies only to slap soldiers about the forest clearing, and now she had established herself as the one giving the orders. Eir nestled alongside Randur as he took hold of the rope, his heart thumping. When he gripped it, there was a faint glow as his skin touched the fibres, some weird adhesive power making itself evident. She followed his lead, locking her hands in place, and the rope also writhed to fix a loop around their feet. I don't want to do this… we've no idea what's up there.
'Aren't you scared?' he whispered.
Eir regarded him coolly. 'We don't have to automatically fear everything we don't understand.'
'Empress, you shall-'
'Come with you, yes, of course.' Rika stepped forward with compliance, took hold of the second rope, and placed an arm around Artemisia's back, hooking her hand on to the base of her armour.
Eir gave Randur a glance to say, What's that all about?
'Perhaps she reckons she's some sort of goddess,' he whispered, not entirely sure that wasn't the case. The only thing she'd ever shown much interest in was her periodic Jorsalir mutterings. It was ironic how she'd always moan – Oh can't you function without all this killing? – and here she was, happily cuddling up to a seven-foot death machine.
Within seconds they were being hauled upwards.
Drifting far above the tree canopy, they watched it grow smaller, the clearing in the forest below them chequered white with snow and red with blood. Winds assaulted them, as the full panorama was revealed.
The latest bank of clouds had rolled away, heading across the island to the south, so a rare glimpse of hazy sunlight covered the forested landscape, showing them peaks and ridges, and towering plateaus streaked on their flanks with run-off.
Vertigo soon kicked in, and Randur felt queasy, yet his fingers would not budge from the rope. They were in fact utterly safe, but such reassurance only seemed to work on an intellectual level. Eir handled their ascent calmly, which was annoying. 'Are you OK?' he mumbled.
'Of course. What a wonderful view!' she replied. 'Your island is a beautiful place, Randur.'
Behind him, Artemisia and Rika swung in close embrace, the blood from the warrior-woman now staining Rika's outer garments. The material flapped in the breeze, along with Rika's hair, but she herself remained still, her gaze focusing on Artemisia.
Something shot down from above, a streak of darkness so fast he hardly spotted it. Artemisia called out something in an incomprehensible, guttural language. Whatever it was darted up again, and began to fly around them in wide circles. It had a small furry body, with a paler face and veinous webbed wings.
'Eir, is that… erm, a monkey with wings?'
After a moment's observation she replied, 'I've only ever seen one in a book… a monkey that is. But it certainly looks like one.'
The creature swooped up behind them, then away again, so that Randur could not get a proper look. And then he was distracted by the sight immediately overhead. 'Oh hell, never mind it, Eir.'
They were heading for the same hulking shape they'd seen from the ground: an immense structure, on whose underside clustered dozens more of the flying creatures. It was a ship of some kind, rather like a floating island thousands of paces wide, and of similar length. Its underside was jagged, with hunks of wood and metal jutting out, and the closer they got, the more he thought he could see through certain sections, to a light glowing within. Randur gaped in awe, as their ropes carried them directly towards the centre of the massive ship.
THIRTY-TWO
Doctor Voland was delighted with quality of the latest harvest. Soldiers provided good meat, and with so many flooding the city, another few of them dead would make little difference.
Nanzi had done him proud, and deserved to rest for a bit longer. It was her day off, and he would cook for her when she awoke. The routine of working at the Inquisition by day and her evenings stalking the street tired her out. Sometimes she would stay asleep for a whole day.
So, that meant four bodies from two nights ago, and a further couple from last night – and he had not even finished with the previous batch yet. It was a grand number to work on, and would fetch a pretty price on the streets.
There was meat enough here to feed dozens and dozens of families, and in hard times, even the most obscure cuts would be consumed. Here, in the dim lighting of his abattoir, he had one body laid out on a workbench while the other three were suspended from thick hooks pierced through their necks. Skin was easier to peel off once the body had been rapidly boiled. It came off just like that and, once the obvious externals had been removed, the human body looked much like that of any other creature. Voland begun removing some of the internal organs, storing them on a metal tray to one side.
He supposed, if he was honest with himself, it did feel a little odd to be doing this to another human, but he had long since felt estranged from his kind
. A loner, someone on the outside of society. He simply could not relate much to other people, and for the last decade he had barely conversed with anyone other than tradesmen he did business with. He felt disillusioned with the world, and no more so than here in Villiren. Money seemed to dictate everything, vices flourishing at the expense of any dignity. You didn't need to look hard to find the people who suffered as a consequence, the homeless, the prostitutes, those performing the most menial jobs in appalling conditions, such as the miners in the surrounding pits. In Villiren, people seemed to barely exist at all, and they were all of them slaves to the Empire. It was just those shiny little metal coins that appeased them for the time being, enough to put some food in their mouths, beer in their guts, to stop them complaining too vehemently. And they were kept so far distant from the decision-making that affected them all.
No, he could not stand much in this world, and could not relate to Jamur life – Urtican life, he reminded himself. He himself was as much a victim in all of this, being reduced to the status of some cog in the Empire's system, churning out these cuts of meat to help others survive. People had to make a living, didn't they? It was work that few others would have the stomach for. Besides, it kept the citizens from running out of food, kept prices from rising too high for the poor to survive. It was honourable work and benefited the world at large.
The Phonoi sprang to life from nowhere. 'Good morning, doctor!' they whispered urgently as they formed striating mists.
'Can we help you any more?' one cooed.
'Shall we unhook the next one?'
'Are you feeling well, doctor?'
Voland smiled at the little devils. 'Grand, thanks. I'm still working on this one, but you could bring the next alongside if you'd like.'
'Anything for you, doctor!' The mists turned more cohesive, ghosting upwards into the murky light. A body seemed to slide upwards and unhook itself of its own accord, and the Phonoi drifted down to lay it carefully across the other side of the workbench. They suffused out of focus again, and left him to his business.
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