Ashes of the Earth (42 page)

"They've
been stealing grain, Nelly. Stealing for months. Many, many tons of
it. That must be where it is. Now that they've crippled Carthage they
will use it to get what they want."

"Impossible.
Kinzler knows how our crops failed. Some of our families have been
close to starvation already. He would never hide the means to keep us
alive."

"Kinzler
hates Carthage as much as Buchanan hates the camps. And Kinzler is
only one of the officers. Sauger is his general. He controlled the
Anna, he controlled Fletcher. This is their final play, Nelly. The
camps would mean nothing to Sauger without Kinzler's help in making
drugs. Destroying grain and selling drugs. That's how Sauger and
Kinzler gain power."

"You're
mistaken. Kinzler would never support such crime. He wants only the
best for the camps."

"I've
seen his little compound. He brings in the drugs from out in the
ruined lands and refines them there for shipment to St. Gabriel."

Nelly
turned long enough to cast a frown at Hadrian. "You've spent so
many years fighting Buchanan you see conspiracy in everything.
Kinzler uses that compound to repair the machines brought in from
salvage. He makes drugs there, yes, he processes the willow bark
according to Jonah's recipe so we can make our own aspirin pills.
He's made belladonna from nightshade. That's a poison if not handled
correctly, so security precautions have to be taken. He explained it
all to the Tribunal. We were going to learn how to make more
medicines.

Jonah
was experimenting on simplified ways to produce them. Even Carthage
has the same serious diseases, just not as widespread. We want to
cure everyone."

"The
drugs Kinzler makes cure people of their very lives," Hadrian
said in a distant tone, wishing for a moment he could just lose
himself in the music of the ice again. He turned back to Nelly.
"Corresponding about aspirin was innocent enough. Then you
started asking Jonah questions about the other medicines and the
equipment needed to make them. Eventually Jonah remembered a place
that would have everything necessary, a place he thought could have
survived. The pharmaceutical facility where his wife once worked."

Nelly
sighed. "He told you?"

"No,"
Hadrian admitted. "He went to old Hamada and found a book, a
directory with maps showing exactly where it was. He wrote you asking
if you'd be able to go and check there. He asked if he should send
the directions out of that directory."

"Kinzler
told me he knew the area, said everything there was destroyed, no
need to bother."

"Because
they wanted it to be their secret, not yours. They told you not to
bother, then they had Hamada's book stolen for them." He watched
her face to see if she understood what he was saying. "They
found the place and are using it to make the drug that is killing
people. They are sending supply parties to it every week." He
recalled his dinner with Nelly and Kinzler. "You said Shenker
was often away. Where does he go?"

"You
make it sound like Jonah and I made all this possible, like we opened
the door for these hoodlums from St. Gabriel."

When
Hadrian did not answer, she turned her face into the shadows. She had
nightmares, she had told him, about Jonah saying he forgave her for
his death. She had begun to realize it was her letters, her
questions, that had been the beginning of the end for Jonah. "Those
men in St. Gabriel wanted to combine with us, to have a joint
government, a united front against Carthage. The Tribunal declined
their offer."

"When?
When did the Tribunal reject this merger?"

"Early
last summer."

In
his mind's eye Hadrian revisited the pages he'd deciphered from
Jonah's chronicle. "It was you who stopped it, Nelly. Because
Jonah had sent you a letter explaining that St. Gabriel was
controlled by escaped criminals."

She
didn't reply, just pulled her woolen cap lower over her head as if
she finally felt the cold.

"My
God, Nelly, it's why they made it so easy for Fletcher to capture you
out on the ice. Why were you out there? It had to be because Kinzler
or Shenker told you to go."

Nelly
stared toward the horizon. He realized she had not spoken about the
bruises on her face and arms. "They said one of the First Bloods
had been hurt by wolves," she explained, "that his dog team
had been attacked and he needed help. But a band of fishermen
ambushed me."

"Did
you ever see an injured First Blood that day?"

"That
iceboat came before I got to him."

"Exactly.
Thousands of square miles of ice and Fletcher's crew happens to pick
the spot where you are. Your hanging would have guaranteed the camps
and St. Gabriel would unite against Carthage. And Kinzler and Sauger
would be rid of you. You had become an impediment to them. There
never was an injured man out on the ice."

She
still would not look at him. "You're wrong."

"Where
was your Shenker when Fletcher came for you? He was with you before
the library fire, to make sure you performed your role, make sure you
became the villain Buchanan wanted and the martyr they wanted. You
said Shenker and you were separated the night Jonah died, that he was
watching the rear of the library. What if he went inside the library?
Jonah understood what was happening, he knew about the drugs. He had
been working on a cure, a way to break the addiction, a way to end
Sauger's plans. He was going to explain the conspiracy, tell you
about his breakthrough, how it would turn everything around. Having
you introduce the antidote would be the perfect way to unite the
camps and Carthage at last. Where was Shenker? Where was Kinzler?
Your first escape was a tactic to fan the flames. It was part of the
script, just like your recapture was. They didn't free you this time,
I did. They wanted you to hang as much as Buchanan wanted it. Jonah
had to die ... and so did you."

Nelly
once again did not reply. She tightened her scarf and moved forward
to the front of the boat, staring out over the ice, a lonely
figurehead in the shimmering night.

"She's
too beautiful, Hadrian," Jori protested when Hadrian explained
what they would do with the iceboat when they arrived at New
Jerusalem. It was an hour before dawn.

"She
won't be lost, she'll just stray a bit," Hadrian reassured her.
"Just ease toward shore and tack about. We'll roll off with the
packs. Then you aim her toward the center of the lake, tie the tiller
down, and join us. The jackals will be no more than two hours behind
us. This mast is over thirty feet high. It will glow like a beacon as
the sun rises. They'll follow her, recover her. It buys us another
few hours."

Jori
reluctantly agreed. They hit the ice hard as she expertly swung the
boat about.

They
had begun stealing across the ice to the compound when Bjorn suddenly
turned in alarm. His prisoner was missing. His hand went to the gun
at his waist, then Hadrian pointed to a shadow running toward the
nearby island. They caught up with Nelly as she approached the first
of the squat two-story buildings. The heavy door was locked but Nelly
spotted the rough timber ladder lying on the snow nearby. Hadrian
silently helped her ease it in place under the hatch by the eaves.
She was at the hatch moments later, flinging open its small door then
leaning into the opening. Even from below they could make out the
rich, sweet scent of the grain. She seemed to go limp for a moment,
then closed the hatch and slowly descended.

"He
is saving it, for when we need it most," she offered
unconvincingly, then let Jori lead her away toward the shoreline.

They
watched the compound for five minutes, waiting for its sentry to
appear. Then Hadrian conferred briefly with Bjorn and began walking
straight toward the main gate. He had nearly reached it when a man
appeared with a shotgun in one hand, a lantern in the other.

"I'm
looking for Kinzler," Hadrian announced, his breath fogging the
air. His hand touched the sword knife he had retrieved from Jonah's
vault, his only weapon. "A message from St. Gabriel."

"In
the outlands, getting the big shipment," the guard said as he
raised the lantern toward Hadrian's face. "Hell, Sauger knows
that—" He collapsed to the ground before finishing his
sentence. Bjorn had silenced him with a blow to the back of his head,
then grabbed his shotgun as he fell.

They
stayed along the inside wall, in the darkest shadows, confirming
there were no more sentries, then entered the building closest to the
gate.

"Just
as I said," Nelly declared, as Hadrian held the lantern over a
workbench strewn with small hand tools, gears, and springs. At least
three mechanical clocks lay in pieces.

"Your
chairman doesn't need a walled compound and an armed sentry to fix
timepieces," Hadrian pointed out. "Are you saying you've
never been inside here? You were never curious?"

"I
told you about the dangers of the belladonna he was working on. And
trade with St. Gabriel has become the key to our survival. The
salvage they bring to us for repair has to be protected. You know
people here are desperate. If they could steal a clock and get it to
the black market in Carthage, they could earn enough to keep them
alive for months. And Kinzler did show us, the Tribunal, showed us
this shop and the little lab where he makes the medicine."

"Take
us there," Hadrian said, "to his little lab."

She
lit a second lantern and led them to a door at the end of the central
building. They found themselves in a small, warm chamber with two
wooden racks that held large metal trays where a white brine was
slowly evaporating. Under each tray was a small brazier with glowing
coals to accelerate the drying.

"And
the rest of the building?" Hadrian and Jori exchanged a glance.
They had been in the main chamber of the building before, when
Hadrian had tried, and failed, to rescue Jori. He hadn't had time to
study the contents of the room.

"Storage.
Vats for soaking the willow bark, to make the extract that gets
evaporated. It's a simple process, but unwieldy on this scale."

Hadrian
led the way now, into the main entrance. There were indeed wooden
containers along the back wall, the vats Nelly had just described.
The adjoining wall had a large stove built into it, bearing several
heavy cooking pots. As he began lifting the lids off the vats,
Nelly's eyes narrowed with worry. There was no aspirin being prepared
in the room. The vats contained a brown pasty substance that, judging
from the residue in the pots on the stove, had been poured into them
after being heated. Along the wall opposite the stove were more
trays, where the same paste had been spread in layers. On the ones
nearest the door the paste had dried into a familiar white powder.
Under the table lay several empty kegs, waiting to be filled.

Hadrian
opened the door of the cabinets that lined a wall. Clay crocks jammed
the shelves. Several held only turpentine, but most also contained an
orange scum on the surface. He found a spatula and ran it over the
bottom of one of the crocks, scooping up a brown sludge. "They
bring the main ingredient from the factory in the ruined lands,"
he said, "then precipitate this by treating it with the solvent,
cook it, and dry it in the trays."

Nelly
stood very still, saying nothing, then marched to the shelves and
began tipping over each of the crocks, letting the pungent turpentine
spill out over the wooden floor. Hadrian slowly retreated, pulling
Dax with him out the door just as Nelly threw the lantern onto the
volatile solvent. It burst into flame.

Outside,
Jori showed Nelly the kegs of turpentine stored along the palisade
wall. Bjorn did not object when Nelly gestured for him to carry them
to the doors of the other buildings, where she kicked out the bungs
that plugged them. He began pouring out the contents of another keg
onto the frozen ground, making rivulets of the liquid leading to the
buildings from where he stood. Nelly tossed a burning stave into the
solvent. They were already across the little isthmus and into the
forest when the explosions broke the silence of the night.

When
Nelly had
brought
them to the well-worn trail that would take them to the southwest,
she stopped, turning to Bjorn with her arms extended. The big
Norwegian was unable to hide the admiration with which he regarded
the bald woman. She had managed to destroy Kinzler's compound without
a word, still shackled. The policeman hesitated, glancing at Jori,
who technically outranked him.

"If
we encountered a salvage party," Jori suggested, "a leading
member of their Tribunal may be able to talk our way through."
Hadrian reached for his knife.