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Authors: Ian C. Esslemont

Tags: #Fantasy, #War, #Azizex666, #Science Fiction

Return of the Crimson Guard (62 page)

BOOK: Return of the Crimson Guard
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‘Victory?’ Laseen repeated flatly. ‘A few hundred of the Crimson Guard visit us for less than a day and half the capital is blown up and burnt to the ground?’

‘An invasion grandly repulsed!’

‘They left because they saw there was nothing here for them,’ Havva said.

Anand shook his head. ‘I have to admit that it was the volunteer citizen militia that drove them off.’ He sounded as if he were still surprised by the fact. ‘And for that I apologize, Empress. I hadn't thought them a force worth considering before. They have no formal command structure or professional officer corps.’

‘A mere mob,’ Mallick sneered.

‘Mobs rule urban warfare,’ Anand said. ‘Bring enough numbers to bear from all directions and you smother any opponent.’

‘Apology accepted, High Fist,’ Laseen said, cutting through the confrontation. ‘Their numbers?’

‘My officers in the streets put their numbers as high as ten thousand. And climbing – more are joining every day. There are lines outside their headquarters.’

‘And just where are these vaunted headquarters, High Fist?’ Mallick inquired mildly, his round face gleaming.

Anand paused, reluctant to answer, then reconsidered, stating boldly, ‘neighbourhood taverns.’

‘Faugh! Rabble who would melt at the first clash of iron. Empress, such forces are useless. The First Sword would have nothing to do with these undisciplined amateurs.’

‘To their great relief, no doubt,’ Anand observed. ‘In any case, they themselves recognize their shortcomings and they've put out a call for retired regular and marine officers to join them. I understand a ship full of retired sergeants and officers just put in from Malaz Isle. Old Braven Tooth himself among them.’

‘Braven Tooth!’ Laseen repeated, amazed. ‘I thought he was dead.’

‘So did everyone.’ Anand's smile held rueful affection. ‘Seems he sank his decades of back-pay and pension into some kind of Denul ritual that turned him into an oak stump.’

‘Unnecessarily,’ Laseen remarked, facing aside.

Mallick sucked his stained teeth loudly. ‘All very well. However, it would take months to hammer such a force into an army. Time we do not have.’

‘What happened to your head?’ Havva asked him.

‘What?’

Havva gestured to the cloth. ‘Your head.’

Mallick's hands flew to the wrap, straightened it. ‘The blast. A lamp fell on me.’

Pity that was all.
‘Wounded in defence of the city. How noble.’

Mallick's gaze narrowed to slits. ‘And where were you, Havva Gulien? Cowering in the Archive's sub-basement, sharpened quill raised?’

Always closer than you know, Mallick Rel.

‘I agree with your estimate of our time, Mallick,’ Laseen said. ‘When is the First Sword expected?’

‘Later today,’ Anand supplied.

‘When he returns, inform him that we will be departing from Unta with all haste. Close the harbour, Anand. Confiscate every vessel. We sail with every available man and woman.’

Anand bowed. ‘Very good, Empress.’

‘We?’ Mallick asked, arched.

‘Not you, Spokesman for the Assembly. Will you remain here in Unta, overseeing the rebuilding and the defence of the capital?’

Mallick's brows rose and he bowed. ‘It would be my honour, of course. I will report daily on the progress.’

‘That will be difficult, Mallick, because I will be leading the army.’

A gasp from Anand,
‘Empress!’

Laseen raised a hand to silence all objections. ‘It is decided. We must leave immediately.’

Though clearly unhappy, Anand gathered himself and bowed stiffly. Havva bowed as well.
So shall I too go. As will Possum and the majority of the Claw. In the field again, as it was so long ago.

‘I shall raise a magnificent monument to your future victories on this very site,’ Mallick said, bowing.

‘Wait until I have won them,’ Laseen said, her unreadable gaze steady on the man.

* * *

In an urban garden servants brushed ash from laden tree-branches while workers dismantled one of its collapsed brick walls. A man in loose trousers and a long plain maroon shirt stood at a planting bed, examining a potted flower. His long black hair hung loose. A woman with a heart-shaped face and short black hair entered the garden and walked swiftly upon him. Without turning, he said, ‘A rare specimen from Avalli, Kiska. Undamaged, thankfully.’

 

The woman covered her nose. ‘It stinks.’

‘Its scent imitates the smell of weakness: rot and death. Attracting flies and other insect scavengers. Which it then eats.’

‘Disgusting.’

‘Revelatory. There is a lesson here for anyone who cares to reflect upon it.’

‘Avoid stinking plants.’

Tayschrenn sighed, set down the pot. ‘You are too much the child of the city, Kiska.’ He faced her, set his darkly tanned hands on his waist. ‘Could not stay away, could you? I suppose I should have known better.’

Kiska studied the workmen, the usual local labourers hired to maintain Tayschrenn's home, all cleared by Hattar. ‘I just kept an eye on things.’

‘Good. I see that some wisdom has penetrated your thick stubbornness. But one does not merely “keep an eye” on men such as Cowl.’

‘He left by Warren.’

‘Which?’

‘Hood's.’

Tayschrenn grunted. ‘How appropriate. So, what did you witness – other than futility and waste?’

Flicking back her short bangs, Kiska tilted her head to one side, frowning. ‘I saw a number of Claws fleeing Avowed open ways into the Imperial Warren.’

‘Yes?’

‘They never returned.’

‘Indeed.’

‘I saw an Avowed named Amatt break a barricade of burning wagons and piled timbers simply by walking into it and pushing a section aside. I counted seven crossbow bolts in him. He then walked down to the ships, pulling the bolts out as they struck him.’ She shook her head, amazed. ‘I tell you, I do not want to face those Guardsmen again.’

‘I agree. It would be a great waste.’

‘Waste?’

Tayschrenn merely rubbed his face, gestured for Kiska to continue.

‘Mostly I shadowed a female Claw – or someone who resembled a Claw. She was hunting Avowed. I saw her stalk and kill two, barehanded. I say she looked like a Claw in that their – our – training resembled her skills in the way a child's sketch resembles a masterpiece.’

‘Indeed.’

‘And there was another woman out there as well. One who moved with ease in and out of Warrens. Like nothing I've ever heard of before.’

He stilled, his gaze in the distance. ‘Is that so? Interesting …’

Kiska swung a kick at the planting bed. ‘Is that all you have to say?
Interesting?
What's going on, damn it all to Trake!’

Dark eyes focused on Kiska; the long shaved jaw writhed, tightening. ‘A trial is approaching us. I ask a difficult thing of you – restraint. I foresee a chance of …
chaos
… arising out of the coming confrontation. I may have to act quickly and there is someone among us who will try to take advantage. Do you understand?’

Kiska bowed. ‘I will inform Hattar.’

‘My thanks.’ As she turned to go he called after her, ‘Tell me, Kiska, why did you not remain in the Claw? You could be a Hand-commander by now, perhaps more.’

She shrugged. ‘I came to understand that I'd always wanted to serve something greater than myself. It became obvious to me rather quickly that those in the Claw serve only themselves. Why?’

But the tall mage was now bent over regarding his plants. ‘Just wondering.’

Kiska bowed and left.
Someone,
he says. Well, she had a pretty good idea who that might be. She and Hattar would have to put their heads together to figure out a way to counter that fat conniving priest. As for the Claw who hunted Avowed, Kiska felt a thrill shiver through her. Could it have truly have been
her
? Tayschrenn hadn't seemed surprised – after all, he'd seen her in action so many years ago. Yet by now everyone seemed to have forgotten, or been deliberately led to forget, that long ago when the fighting had been the thickest, and Dancer guarded Kellanved, it had been Surly, Mistress of the Claw, who had stalked and slain their enemies.

CHAPTER III
 

See the little blackbird,
Dappled and grey.
See the fallen soldiers,
Dappled and grey.
It hunts a tasty morsel,
Dappled and grey.
It looks in eyes unseeing,
Dappled and grey.

 

Children's rhyme,
Streets of Heng

 

A
ND SO THE SOLDIER OF LIGHT HAS DELIVERED HIMSELF. BUT JUST
what does he herald? A hand gentle on the
Kite's
tiller, Ereko looked down at the calm face of the sleeping lad. His gaze travelled to the sword at his side wrapped in its sheath and belt. Even hidden away its power appalled him. A blade too great to be wielded by any being cognizant of its potential. And so an innocent youth carries it – or perhaps it only allows itself to be carried by such a one. Ereko knew only that
he
dared not touch it. Thinking back to that delicate meeting on the beach he breathed again a prayer of thanks to Goddess Mother that violence had not visited them. That blade is a match for Traveller's – if only in its singleness of purpose. And these clansmen from Assail, they carry secrets that should never have left that land. Rising, his eyes met the bright steady gaze of Traveller across the length of the vessel. And what of you, my friend? Why do I fear for you even more with every passing league? I suspect the full dregs of what you must endure yet await you. So why such a fell gathering of power and pregnant histories? Are we all here to escort you, my friend, or do you escort us? Who is to know save the
Enchantress and Queen of Dreams, T'riss, in the arc of whose vision we all act?

 

The lad shifted, stretched and awoke blinking in the early light. ‘Sleep yet,’ Ereko told him.

Kyle rubbed his eyes. ‘It's all I seem to do these days, sleep.’ He rubbed his arm where Ereko's High Denul had mended torn ligament and ruptured flesh. ‘What of you? You man that tiller day and night. Won't you rest?’

Ereko lightly laughed the suggestion aside. ‘No, lad. I am so old now that sleeping and waking have melded together into one and I know not which I inhabit.’

Watching the lad struggle through that, Ereko shifted course slightly to avoid a looming ice-spire.

Truly? So old? As old as the mountains?’

Ereko raised his brows. ‘Goodness, no. Not
that
old. Only half so old, I should think.’

The lad pulled his blanket closer, eyed him sidelong as if gauging the degree of his sincerity. Unsure, he raised his chin to the ice-dotted waves. ‘What is that light to the south?’

Ereko did not turn his gaze.
Even yet the power of that ritual bruises!
‘That pale bluish light?’

‘Yes.’

‘A great field of ice, Kyle. Quite perilous. To travel there is to risk wandering accidentally into another Realm. A place of eternal cold. The home of another race.’

‘And these ice mountains?’ Kyle indicated the largest one nearest them: a towering peak of deep sapphire blue, wind and water sculpted into sweeping arcs and blade-like curves.

BOOK: Return of the Crimson Guard
2.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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