City of Masks (6 page)

“If I did, I apologize, but what difference would it have made? The seats were called out by chance.”

Salick’s long blonde braids swung as she shook her head.

“The Calling of the Places is a very old tradition, and one that is often manipulated. That Chief Steward had more than lace up her sleeves! What do you think they teach them in the Stewards School?”

“To serve their masters, I suppose,” Garet said. He hoped Branet would make a quick return so that this conversation could end. It was too reminiscent of his first days with Salick, when he was the ignorant stranger and she was his very superior teacher.

“Yes,” Salick said, in that familiar, lecturing tone. “And Lysere, who will be married to Trax soon, if the city gossip is any guide, would be miraculously chosen by those ‘random’ lots to sit by his side. A sign from Heaven, one could say, or the manipulation of a clever steward serving her master. But Lysere had other ideas! She wanted you to take her seat so that Trax could get something from you. What was it?”

Blushing deeper, he told her.

Salick ran a finger along the scar that marked one of her cheeks.

“Helping with research? Well, I can’t see any plot in this . . . yet. And we do owe Barick something, I suppose.”

“Salick, why do they draw lots anyway? Why can’t Trax just decide who sits where?” Garet asked, hoping to change the subject. “He is the king, after all!”

Salick shrugged. “Because people would complain. The King’s table is the highest honour, and besides, there is always one Ward Lord feuding with another—you must have seen how Lords Sacourat and Birsal glared at each other. There’s a reason they were at different tables. No king wants a duel fought with fish forks at his feast!”

She glanced at the door to the dining hall, but it was still closed. It may have been Garet’s imagination, but he thought he heard raised voices beyond it. Salick tapped the butt of her trident lightly against the tiles and continued her explanation.

“Supposedly it was the first King, Shirat was his name, who decided on the lots. The story goes he just had enough of arguing one night and declared it law, if you can believe it.”

Garet smiled. “Oddly enough, I can.”

He began to tell her Trax’s story about the vegetable seller, but at that moment the door to the dining hall swung open, and Hallmaster Branet stormed out.

“Give me my club! You two, come along. Garet, why did you say yes to this history nonsense? It was not your place to agree, and we can hardly spare Banes now when attacks . . . well, we shouldn’t forget our duties.”

Garet looked at Salick, then back to the Branet. “But Hallmaster, the King told me you had already agreed, so I . . .”

Branet snarled and glared at the door he had just exited.

“Did he? Well, never mind. But you will report to me all that he asks you! Is that clear?”

Garet nodded at Branet’s retreating back. It seemed no agreement on his part was really necessary. Branet expected it as his due.

The two younger Banes left the Palace as they had entered it, running to keep up with their Hallmaster.

THE PALACE GUARDS
saw them off with an air of satisfaction and returned to their duties of standing and looking fierce. Since Garet knew such courage would collapse at the first touch of a demon’s fear, he ignored their splendour.

He couldn’t ignore this latest tongue-lashing from the Hallmaster. He fumed as he walked.

“I thought him fair when he was just a Master,” Garet said to Salick. They trailed him at a safe distance, or at least safe enough for quiet conversation in the empty plaza.

“
Just
a Master?” Salick said and rolled her eyes. As a Gold, her efforts were almost wholly directed to proving she could one day be “just” a Master.

“You know what I mean! He fought beside Master Mandarack against Adrix, and he was a popular choice to follow him as Hallmaster. So why is he so . . . angry all the time?”

Salick didn’t answer for several steps. She was never one to criticize the Banehall if it could be avoided. It had been her life and salvation, and her instinct was to defend it like a mother bear defends her cubs.

“He has near three-hundred Banes to worry about, Garet! And remember, he was never . . . an easy man to begin with, though he is one of the bravest Banes of his generation, or so others say, even Tarix.”

If she hoped to quiet him by conjuring his Master to support her point, Salick was disappointed.

“What does that matter?” Garet asked. “Even that tyrant, Adrix, patrolled and killed demons, which made him brave enough, I suppose, but it didn’t make him a good Hallmaster. No, there’s a worry or a hatred eating at him. Is something else going on, something that so bothers him that he must take it out on us?”

He looked closely at Salick. Though they had a deep affection for each other, Garet knew that she would not hesitate to keep secrets from him for the good of the Banehall.

“Nothing that I know of. Stop staring at me! It’s the truth. But you’re right that something may be amiss. Master Relict has just returned from Solantor. He’s obviously downcast, yet says nothing of the journey nor what happened in the Overking’s city. Even my own Master is as closed-mouth as a wood-turner’s clamp,” Salick said. “Which is a big change for her!”

Garet smiled. He knew Salick missed the taciturn Mandarack, a man she had regarded as both a mentor and a substitute father. Her new Master, Bandat, was as skilled as she was talkative, but she was no Mandarack.

Salick raised her eyes to the moon skimming the top of the city wall. That and the torches near the bridge were the only illumination on this side of the plaza.

“I had hoped we were done with shadows and plots,” she said.

Turning suddenly, she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you know what’s going on? What are you thinking in that wise head of yours?”

“I’m thinking something is wrong,” Garet replied, stretching up to look past the Hallmaster towards the bridge gates.

“Yes,” Salick snapped. “We both agree on that, but what?”

“We’ll know in a moment,” Garet said. He pointed towards the bridges, directing Salick’s attention to a Gold Sash Bane running towards them, lantern in hand and a trident similar to Salick’s bouncing on his shoulder. The two Banes started running to catch up with Branet.

“Hallmaster! Hallmaster!” the Gold shouted. The ring of light around him bounced and quivered as he ran.

They reached the Hallmaster the same moment the Gold skidded to a stop in front of him.

“Snake Demon, Hallmaster. It got away from us . . . and went into the sewers!” he gasped out.

Branet grabbed the young man by the shoulder.

“Kitoroth, you let it get into the sewers? Fool! It could go anywhere. Where did it go in?”

The Bane struggled for breath but answered. “River end . . . beneath the centre bridge.”

Branet let him go. He turned to the two Banes standing close behind him.

“Salick, we have to block off this end of the sewers as quickly as possible. Find the nearest grate and open it.”

Garet went with her. In the poor light it took a little time to find the iron grating set flush in the stone of the plaza. Garet knew these grates were to be found in several parts of the Plazas, and also throughout the Wards. This was where the excess water went when it rained. His nose wrinkled when he remembered that the sewers emptied all the privies of the city as well.

They used the pick end of his rope-hammer to pry it open, then Salick inserted the butt of her trident in the gap. With both of them struggling, they levered the grate far enough aside for entry into the deeper darkness below.

The Hallmaster was behind them now. Kitoroth was gone, but he had left his lantern. Branet handed it to Salick.

“Go down into the tunnel and make your way towards the Bridge outlet. Check each side pipe for any sign of the beast. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous they are, do I?”

“No, Hallmaster,” Salick replied. She took the lantern and lowered it into the hole. The drop would be a good ten feet.

“Your weapon,” Salick said, and took one end of the rope hammer while Garet eased her down. After he handed down her trident, the Hallmaster did the same for him and dropped the end of his rope-hammer to clatter beside them.

No going back that way. At least he didn’t replace the grate.

He looked around. The lantern illuminated several yards of a stone-lined tunnel, arched at the top and flat at the bottom. Luckily for them, the days had been dry of late, so there was only a thin layer of scum and mud covering the floor.

He desperately hoped it was mud, but his nose disagreed.

The ceiling was high, but the walls were close enough to touch with extended arms. Garet realized he had no room to swing his weapon effectively. After a moment’s thought, he wrapped the loose coils around his chest, layering them over his new sash.

So much for these clothes. I hope the stores Bane won’t blame me for the state of them when we get back.

If we get back
, he added to himself, for there was a demon somewhere under the Plaza, and that never meant a sure homecoming.

They heard Branet move off, calling to Kitoreth. Salick looked at how Garet was arranging his weapon: the spiked weight with a bit of slack in one hand, and the short-handled hammer and pick in the other.

“Have you invented a new sash?” Salick asked. Her voice sounded odd, a high-pitched echo in this confined space. He felt twitchy himself, a dependable sign that a demon was about.

“I suppose I have,” he said. “What rank would this be, Green Sewer Bane?”

“Red at least,” she said, and chuckled nervously. “I’ll go first, Master Sewer Bane. You keep the light high and behind us so that we’re not blinded. If we meet the beast, watch my trident, so mind me if I say get down!”

Garet nodded. He had to admit that Salick’s weapon would be more effective than his own. He just hoped that he could be of some use if the Snake Demon came their way.

As they walked down the narrow tunnel, splashing in puddles of water and filth, Garet tried to ignore his nose and remember what he could about this particular type of demon. The beasts came in many forms, and each had their own dangers, from the tiny Rat Demons to the massive Bashers.

He considered what he already knew. Snake Demons were rare, thankfully. No other had appeared in Shirath in the many months Garet had been in the Hall. From his studies, he knew they had tiny legs and arms, and a long body befitting their name. Moret’s
Demonary
said they could grow to the length of a tall tree, but Garet hoped this was one of those times when the old book was more fanciful than accurate. He stopped to hold the light near a side tunnel, but saw nothing within. Hadn’t Moret said something about their bite as well?

“Listen,” Salick commanded.

Fear jumped in Garet’s chest. The demon’s effect was growing.

From a far distance, if the number of echoes were any guide, voices came, quick shouts back and forth, and over all a dry rasping sound, as if someone dragged an uncured hide over rough stone.

The rasping sounded closer than the shouts.

“Claws!” Salick said. “I can see a light far off. They’re driving it this way. Set the lantern as high as you can and get ready.”

Garet propped it just within a head-high opening and prepared his sadly hobbled weapon. He would use the pick-hammer end on the demon if Salick could pin it down with her trident.

The rasping grew louder. So did the shouts. Splashing feet followed, then a scream. The confines of the tunnel echoed the cry terribly, then the rasping was everywhere and the demon appeared in the light of their lantern.

It was a thick cable of muscle and malice. Its head looked large in proportion to the rest of its body, the usual horn-like ridges of the skull sweeping back into serrated blades. Its beak gaped and the split tongue waved from a fringe of needle-sharp teeth. Two of the teeth were proper fangs and longer than Garet had ever seen in a demon’s mouth.

It swayed for a moment, regarding them with small, black eyes.

“Ware the teeth!” Salick shouted, and stabbed at the thing with her trident.

The Snake Demon clamped its jaws down on the tines of her weapon and shook it—and her—like a toy. The Gold was thrashed repeatedly against the tunnel walls, but she held on to the shaft.

“Salick!” Garet cried and rushed forward, only to be battered to one side by a flick of the demon’s beak. He bounced off a mossy wall and fell directly below the creature’s head.

Luckily, the other Banes, lanterns and weapons in hand, ran up behind the beast and the Gold in the lead brought down a spiked club upon the demon’s tail.

Unluckily, this caused the demon to release the trident—sending Salick flying up the tunnel—and brought its attention to the morsel lying at its underdeveloped feet.