Time and again, the Red Swords provided valuable assistance. Several bridges on their road had been torn down, but guides directed them to shallow fords a mile or less to one side or the other. Once they were warned of an ambush by scouts who wore boar skins and had wooden boar masks strapped on top of their heads.
The vanguard halted and spent half an hour forming a line and eating salted rice balls. Then, with wild yells, eight hundred Red Crane soldiers charged across a field and into the trees. The would-be ambushers were completely flummoxed by this unexpected attack and ran away, casting their bows and spears aside. A hundred cavalry were sent after the fleeing men, and for the next mile Sandun came upon dead men lying face down in the dirt.
Lord Vaina had no sympathy for the Serice mercenaries who were fighting against his army. “They are all criminals. If they stand and fight, we kill them just as if they were Sogands.”
To Sandun’s eye, the dead Serice mercenaries seemed poorly equipped and ill fed, little better than the irregular Red Sword fighters who were on the outside of the city. All this was quite a contrast to the Kitran warriors who’d died on the fields of Devek wearing good armor and wielding quality steel. Many of the Red Crane soldiers were now carrying Kitran weapons looted from the Devek battlefield. However, wearing Kitran armor was frowned upon; the less you looked like an enemy, the less likely you were to be struck down by an arrow or a spear from your own side. Kunhalvar armor was not very good, but at least it was distinctive.
The army of Kunhalvar reached the south river gate an hour before sunset. Finally, Sandun could fully appreciate the massive walls of Kemeklos: at least thirty feet tall, with thickset towers above every gate rising another thirty or even forty feet into the air. Much damage had been inflicted on the walls and gate by Nilin’s army. The river gate was in ruins, and the opening was blocked with heaps of wooden beams, bricks, and all sorts of other debris. It looked like no men were going to get in or out of Kemeklos through the south water gate until a major clearing operation was completed. Behind the walls, columns of smoke rose through the air. Kemeklos was still burning and, judging from the color of the smoke, several of the fires were new.
In between the Red Crane Army and the gate, Nilin’s army of mercenaries waited. Scanning the enemy lines with Basil’s farseer, Sandun could see they had constructed or repositioned wooden defensive siege works to face south. Lord Vaina halted his men and ordered soldiers to deploy in a line from the river inland for a mile. The cheerful optimism of the day vanished as they looked at a thousand spears poking above the enemy’s defensive position.
“They knew we were coming to this gate,” Lord Vaina said thoughtfully as he looked through his farseer.
“We have not left the river’s side all this time. Even Nilin will have guessed we would show up here,” Valo Peli replied softly. “Their defenses look stronger than I expected. If they have the will to defend, we may not be strong enough drive them off, not without the rest of our army.”
The main body, under General Modi, was a day’s march behind them. They had all hoped the Red Swords inside the city could join them in a double attack on the empire forces, crushing them like grain between grinding stones. But Sandun didn’t see how the Red Swords could exit the city, at least not at this gate. Sandun could see a few men up on the walls, gesturing and pointing at the army of Kunhalvar, but not many spears. For a double attack to take place, more information and coordination were mandatory.
“Send three hundred cavalry up within bowshot,” Lord Vaina commanded. “Let’s see what the mercenaries will do.”
While the infantry rested, Kun the Younger’s cavalry galloped up to the enemy bulwarks. A storm of arrows flew out to meet them. Not many arrows hit the fast-moving horsemen, but it seemed there were at least a thousand archers behind the wooden walls.
Lord Vaina nodded and then said, “A night attack, then. An hour after midnight. Have the men rest but keep up harassment by the horsemen.” Then he yelled out, “Find one of the Red Sword commanders. The men inside Kemeklos need to do something for us now!”
Half an hour later, the sun was turning an angry red as the Keltens sharpened their weapons and wrapped black cloth around their armor plates. Beside Lord Vaina’s command tent, a very muddy Red Sword was brought over. Sitting at Lord Vaina’s feet, the man rubbed at the mud that covered his arms and explained himself.
The mudman was from Sasuvi and had long served the Red Prophet. At this, Lord Vaina recognized him and said his name: Erio. Sandun was astonished; he didn’t think he could have recognized Basil under all that mud, much less a man he hadn’t seen in years. Nevertheless, the mudman acknowledged his name and continued. He had, he told them, been searching a long time for the secret way out of the palace.
“All palaces have one secret exit, carefully hidden, leading out under the city walls. The first time in Kemeklos, we did not find it, but that didn’t matter as we were bound for Daka, or so we believed. This time, the Prophet declared the Mavana would arrive in Kemeklos, and this was the holy city of her arrival. Again, we searched the palace, fruitlessly, for weeks. When the evil one and his army arrived outside our walls, the search was intensified. Many rooms in the palace were knocked down and mortar drilled out of flooring. We found some hidden rooms, even some treasures, lost and forgotten since the days of the Water Kingdom. At last, we found the way out.”
Erio paused, and a haunted look passed over his face. “The secret way was very old, partially blocked in places. We found bones under the muck. Many people had tried to escape that way long ago and been trapped and perished there. After days of work, we finally reached a barred door. Opening it, we found earth, roots, and dense clay dirt. We could not tell exactly where we were. The compass needles don’t work properly underground. Our master builder guessed the exit was not far from the south water gate, but where? The empire’s mercenaries were camped beside the south water gate, and opening a door right in the enemy camp was too much of a risk unless utter disaster forced our hand. To cut the story short, we continued to dig through the mud carefully, shoring up the passage as we went. I alone have been looking for the exit to the secret way from the outside. My efforts were slow; the river was steadily patrolled by the enemy.
“But yesterday the evil one’s soldiers pulled back, retreating to where you see them now, close to the walls. Now I could search in the daylight. Finally, an hour ago, I found it! Twenty men with shovels can dig out the remaining earth and open a passage that leads into the palace.
“Please, Governor Vaina, it must be done! The city is in desperate straits. The assault from the north side has been unrelenting for a week, and the warriors cannot hold out much longer. You have arrived not a moment too soon. I would say the Mavana guided you to us this day.”
“It shall be done, Erio,” Lord Vaina told him. “We are not here to garrison Kemeklos but to evacuate it. Since the Mavana is not coming to this city, we must free Kemeklos with our own hands. Show my engineers where the entrance is.”
“That way,” Erio said pointing to the river. “We were right to be afraid of revealing the entrance to the secret way. This is—this was the site of one of the enemy’s camps.”
Engineer Urho and a contingent of diggers went off with Erio to the riverside. Lord Vaina summoned Minister Renieth. “Write a letter to the Radiant Prince. I’ll stamp it when I’ve read it. They need to abandon Kemeklos, and there is no time to waste. When the secret way is opened, I’m sending you to convince the Radiant Prince. It’s a challenging task; don’t fail me.”
Lord Vaina sent a fast messenger to General Modi, ordering him to bring his men up with all speed. He sent another rider to General Erdis, telling him to take every available ship and sail upriver to the south water gate.
“We are exposed here,” Lord Vaina said to his staff. “The longer we wait, the sooner the enemy will realize that they outnumber us by many thousands of men. The R
ed Swords inside the city appear to be facing utter destruction with curious apathy. We cannot relax! We are close to complete success, but this is the ultimate step.”
Sandun left Lord Vaina’s council to find Miri and to eat some food. He found her under a canopy, gazing at the red-tinged walls of the city. Pillars of black smoke billowed up silently up into the air, glowing pink and orange as they caught the light of the vanished sun. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying. He could smell the smoke. Bits of ash drifted down out of the sky.
“Kemeklos is a famous city,” Miri said to him, not looking away from the sight of it. “I was taught that when this was the capital of the Water Kingdom, no city in the world could rival it. The river passes through the city, flowing in from the northeast. I have read two poems describing the eleven graceful bridges that once spanned the river, each unique in its design and decorations. Kemeklos was once filled with majestic mansions and temples of unsurpassed workmanship and artistry. The palace of our king in Sorabol is but a small imitation of the vast palace that sprawled in luxury at the center of this city, a wonderland of gardens, pavilions, halls, and parlors.”
She turned to face Sandun, and he could see the distress in her face. “Yet, having come so far, we find the enemy blocks the last mile, and beyond them, the gate is choked by rubble and debris. Inside, the city is on fire. Who will douse the flames? Not us, as Lord Vaina has said we are not come to save the city but to evacuate the people. I fear Kemeklos will not be rebuilt in my lifetime, and perhaps never. All I can do is write a poem about coming to Kemeklos, looking at the walls, and then turning back.”
Miri shook her head and ate a flat cake that Sandun had handed to her.
“I know,” she said. “This is war. We didn’t come her to view the sights of an ancient city. It makes me sad. Perhaps there is nothing left of the noble mansions. It’s been more than two hundred years since Kemeklos was the capital. Stripped of its goods when the gentlefolk fled, pillaged at least twice. Sitting here, I can only imagine what it once looked like.”
She paused and then spoke a sentence in her own language, of which Sandun had learned almost nothing.
“What was that you said?”
“It means: I came to the old water city and tasted history on my lips, little more than smoke and ash.” Miri paused and then said apologetically: “It works better in my language.”
Sandun smiled and kissed her hand, and then he went back to Lord Vaina’s tent. On the way, he met Renieth, walking with a few soldiers.
“Lord Sandun!” Renieth said. “This humble scholar has a request, a boon if you will. The secret way has been opened, and I have been ordered to carry a message to the old palace. Would you be willing to accompany me? There is some measure of danger, and I would feel more at ease if you could see fit to join me in this task.”
Sandun agreed. This was a chance to see the fabulous palace of Kemeklos, or at least a tiny portion of it. He retraced his steps and told Miri he was going into the old palace with Minister Renieth.
“I should be back in a little while,” he told her.
“Take care, my lord. I will await your return,” she replied.
At the river’s edge, steps had been hacked into the soft earth with pickaxes. Workmen, their feet and legs caked in mud, were still widening a hole in the steep bank. The base of the opening was only a man’s height above the water. What will happen if the river rises? Sandun wondered. For an emergency escape, this seemed like a poor design. But then he thought of Erio’s story and the dead bodies they had discovered. The emergency exit hadn’t worked when it was most needed. He had to suppress a shudder as he followed Renieth inside. Six other soldiers accompanied them; four carried oil lamps. Sandun thought about his pouch back at the tent with Miri. No glowing orbs again. This time, though, the glowing orbs wouldn’t be needed. They were going in, delivering the message, and then leaving.
As they passed from the recent tunnel made by the Red Swords and into the original stone passageway, Sandun asked Renieth what he thought of the escape route.
“If you mean, does this seem poorly designed, then, yes, this scholar agrees with you,” Renieth replied. “But it could be that the secret way predates the Water Kingdom. Kemeklos was one of the capitals of the Gold Kingdom, though most have forgotten this. During the three hundred years it served as a capital, the city expanded three times. When the tunnel was first built, it could be that it ended far from the city walls. Also, rivers change their banks; it may be that even this near Kemeklos, the Jupol shifts its borders as the years pass.”
Inside the old tunnel, there was a stink from the muck lying on the paving stones. Whatever drainage system that had once been installed was barely working, if it worked at all. In many places, mud and earth had been left in heaps alongside of the passageway.
The Red Swords never seriously contemplated using this passage, Sandun thought. That would explain why only one man had been looking for the exit. “Where is Erio?” Sandun asked.
“He was on his last legs,” Renieth said. “He was sent back to the camp to eat and drink. He had been scrabbling along the riverbank for nearly two days without rest.”
“Was anyone on the other side? Guards?”
“No, but there were five shovels, a stack of lumber, and a bucket, nearly full of muddy water.”
“I’m not impressed by the Red Swords’ notion of security,” said Sandun dismissively.
“This one feels the same way.”
They walked a long way, and gradually the stench lessened and the tunnel became dryer. Sandun guessed they were now under the city proper. Ahead, the lead guard paused and then began to descend some stairs. The stairs, sixty or seventy in number, ended in a passage whose walls were visibly damp. Moss had recently been scraped off the floor as well as some of the walls at eye level. Faintly, dripping water could be heard ahead of them.
“The Jupol flows through Kemeklos. This water indicates that we are passing under the river now.”
“A well-built tunnel,” Sandun replied. “Surprising that it has not flooded.”
“Indeed. There is a trick to keeping tunnels free of water even when they are lower than a river nearby.” Renieth chuckled. “This scholar only knows the trick exists but does not know how it is accomplished. Doubtless one of my colleagues in the Ministry of Construction knows the method.”
About one hundred paces from the stairs, they came upon an old greenish pipe going up into the stone ceiling. A brass wheel the size of a massive frying pan was set into the tube at waist height. The bottom of the pipe was open, and a little water had collected around the opening. There were scratch marks on the wheel. Renieth looked at it closely and then looked up at the stones overhead. “This tunnel can be flooded deliberately,” he said. “Dangerous for the man turning the wheel, perhaps even fatal depending on how rapidly the water comes out of the opening.”
“A cheery thought. So glad you invited me on this trip.”
“Ah, you mean the opposite of what you say. Irony.” Renieth spoke hesitantly, as though testing out a rarely used word. “We scholars are trained not to speak nor write that way. The Great Sage said that wisdom stems from using the correct words, and we endeavor to follow his precepts.”
“What do you think is funny?” Sandun asked about humor to keep his mind off the thought that they were walking through a long underground tunnel that could be easily flooded with water.
“Among the educated, we enjoy making up phrases or short rhymes that use words that sound the same but have very different meanings. Often these alternative meanings are sexually suggestive.”
“For example?” Sandun smiled in the darkness. Minister Renieth was a rather straight-laced fellow. In the months he had known him, Sandun couldn’t think of one occasion when Renieth had commented about a woman’s charms.
“Ahem.” Renieth cleared his throat. “You ma
y have heard the expression the missive is going by horse?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, missive sounds like a different word for a young woman and…” Renieth trailed off for moment. “Well, it’s rather lewd, and yet some people find a use for the expression at least once a week. Seems juvenile to me. Three officials I know appear to derive immense pleasure from writing brief comments on documents that seem like perfectly appropriate responses yet when said out loud, their alternative meaning becomes evident and…it can be quite embarrassing, especially in meetings, if you don’t pick up on it.”
“Back home we do the same thing, but in conversations,” Sandun explained. “But when someone in the Royal Archives writes a document, it’s usually very serious. No double meanings.”
“Indeed. It is the same with us. An official report using phrases with double meanings would be frowned upon. What I was referring to were comments on draft documents, and the comments would, naturally, not be preserved. One of my colleagues in the Ministry of Rituals either is supremely talented in making up suggestive expressions or has far too much time on his hands.”
“Or perhaps there is a hidden document of such expressions, passed along from one joker to the next, and you simply aren’t in the know because you have no sense of humor.” Sandun was tweaking Renieth deliberately, in part because of the miserable endless tunnel they were walking.
“No sense of humor? I confess, my wife has said this to me also.”
After what seemed like an hour, they reached a narrow circular staircase, not quite wide enough for two, so the group had to go up in single file. Ninety steps later, they reached an opening. The room they entered was dark and smelled of rotting straw. Judging from the look of the place, the ugly iron bars, the doors as thick as ten-year-old pine trees, this was the palace dungeon.
The Fire Sword Page 40
