Chaosmage (16 page)

The fight had been brief, but Zannah had shown herself capable of terrifying brutality on a level they'd not seen before. Even as the girl was carried away Balfruss could see people were staring at the Morrin.

She scared them as much as the Forsaken, if not more, because she lived with them inside the walls. Rather than earning their respect or admiration she'd only made them even more afraid of her.

Jumping from the wall like that would have crippled or killed most people, but Zannah seemed unaffected and had just resumed fighting. Balfruss knew she would soon have to borrow more energy to repair her injuries. How long would it be before she had only months to live again?

She was killing herself for them every day and not one of them knew about her sacrifices.

Once the adrenaline faded and she realised the danger had passed Zannah sheathed her daggers. That was when she noticed how they were looking at her.

Retrieving a sword from one of the injured Forsaken she went about the grisly business of beheading every twitching body on the street. Zannah didn't wait for the others to leave the wall and this time several of them saw what she was doing before they could escape inside. From his position on top of the wall Balfruss could hear the crunching sounds of breaking bone.

When it was done Zannah approached the wall, turned the Forsaken's crude ladders into kindling, then waited until Alyssa threw down the rope.

The Forsaken were gone for now but Balfruss knew they would return, and probably in greater numbers than before. It made him wonder again what they really wanted with the people they carried away. Even trying to think beyond normal desires, as Kai had suggested, he couldn't work it out. Regardless, they had won a battle and would celebrate, because tomorrow could be much worse, and tonight might be all the time they had left.

T
he Forsaken didn't attack again that night and for once Alyssa managed to sleep for seven hours without waking up. The nightmares were still there, lurking in the shadows of her mind, but no matter how disturbing they were, she'd seen the images many times before and now a part of her was immune to the horror. This upset her as much as the visions, as she felt as if a piece of her humanity was being eroded.

The others didn't see it. They thought she was someone to be admired and Alyssa did nothing to change their minds. In this place, no matter how thin the reed of hope that someone clung to, she would never take that away from them. Most often it was all they had.

Last night, though, she'd felt so proud to stand beside her people. As usual Zannah, as well as Balfruss and Tammy, had fought with great skill, but for once her people had done more than the usual poking and prodding. She'd seen them lose hope, but then they'd dug deep and rallied again. Perhaps it was because they were starting to fully understand the odds stacked against them. Perhaps they'd found their inner strength and had decided it was time to fight back. Or perhaps they'd been inspired by the example of the others. Alyssa's smile was more than a little wry at that thought. Not even she believed that.

Despite what Zannah had done to save the girl last night, Alyssa's people still loathed her. The act itself had been miraculous, but it just didn't matter to them. Nothing she ever did would ever be enough, and yet it didn't stop her from trying. Zannah claimed to be without faith and yet she continued to try and win them over despite it being impossible. Alyssa wondered if Zannah saw the irony.

She descended the many flights of stairs, going deeper and deeper into the earth until she finally came to a short corridor packed with many small rooms. They'd been used for storage at one time, but now had various functions. A queue had formed beside one of the six deep wells and Alyssa waited her turn, despite protests that she go straight to the front. People smiled and generally seemed happier when she was around, so she made time for everyone that spoke to her. Eventually she reached the front of the line and was handed a bucket
one
-
quarter
full of water, which she carried away to one of the small rooms.

Long curtains had been hung up in front of many and she went inside one and drew the curtain. The material was partially transparent, letting in enough light from the candles to see what she was doing, but not so much that it was immodest. After what she had endured in the camps alongside many of them during the war, Alyssa thought it a little childish. Nevertheless she said nothing and complied with their rituals of modesty. It was another reed they clung to. In truth she would have liked nothing better than to have a wash in warm sunlight. Down here in the caves it was always chilly, and the water drawn from the wells was icy.

Alyssa stripped off her clothing, took up one of the rough bars of soap Tammy and the others had brought with them, and cleaned herself from head to toe. There were still some sore patches on her skull and hips that she washed with care, but the rest was muscle, scar tissue and bone. There were a few places that had been burned so badly she couldn't feel her skin at all, so she made sure to clean those thoroughly as well.

The water drained away into a narrow channel that had recently been cut into the stone floor. It would be used again to water the mushrooms and rhubarb growing in the deepest caves. With so little water to spare they tried to find a way to reuse as much as possible.

By the time she had dressed in clean clothing and eaten a quick breakfast, Tammy and Balfruss had left for the day. Alyssa found Zannah alone on the wall, staring out across the city with a peculiar expression.

“What is it?”

The Morrin didn't answer for a long time but eventually she asked, “Were you a sculptor?”

Alyssa knew that wasn't what Zannah had originally wanted to ask. She thought the Morrin was afraid, but didn't know of what. Nothing seemed to scare her and yet this wasn't the first time she'd changed the subject when they were alone. “No, but I knew a few over the years.”

“I'll get it one day,” promised Zannah, but she didn't sound confident.

“Zannah . . . ” said Alyssa, trying to find the right words to broach whatever it was, but the Morrin turned away to watch the street.

“You should get some rest. It's your day off.”

“What about you?”

“I'm fine,” said Zannah. She was alone on the wall and would remain that way until nightfall when others would come to guard the shelter.

The thump of many feet announced the arrival of a small army of children. They ranged in age and height but all were golden skinned and in far better health than many of the adults. The skin of a few actually shone and looked golden in the winter sun. “You promised us a story,” declared one small girl with dazzling blue eyes. “I want my story!”

Alyssa hesitated for a moment while several children pulled on her arm, trying to lead her away. Some of the older children frowned at Zannah, but the youngest were oblivious and didn't see her as different from anyone else.

“You should go,” said Zannah.

Alyssa could do little but consent as she was led away by the hand to one of the children's play areas. A slightly larger room had been decorated with brightly coloured paintings on the walls, the floor covered with layers of carpets and cushions until it was a warm and cosy space. Not even the drab sunlight filtering through the two high windows was enough to diminish the cheery mood of the room.

“Tell us another story about the Blessed Mother,” said one of the children.

“Were you one of the Faithful?” asked another. Alyssa bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing at the idea.

“No, but I knew someone who was.” Her smile faded as she thought of Monella, only a few rooms away. Once, she had led a congregation that numbered in the hundreds. Now the former priestess said very little and every other word seemed to be soaked in vinegar and bile. “Have I told you about the story of the Blessed Mother's rebirth?”

“Is it a scary story?” asked one of the younger boys, hiding behind a big cushion.

Alyssa gave the boy a warm and generous smile. “No, it's a wonderful story about the cycle of life and death.”

For a while, the rest of the world drifted away until all that existed for Alyssa was a sea of eager faces. They were rapt, hanging on her every word, and she felt a mix of joy and sadness at the attention. When she reached the end of the story several children clapped and a few of the older ones quickly wiped away tears, pretending it hadn't affected them. It saddened her that they thought showing emotion was a weakness.

Promising them another story very soon, Alyssa wandered away down the corridor with no particular destination in mind. As ever, after retelling one of the many tales about the Blessed Mother, she felt an inner peace. The bright spark inside, that so often these days seemed as if it would be extinguished, had been rekindled. It swelled her breast, lifted her chin and, despite everything, she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Her feet guided her back to the courtyard where Zannah maintained her lonely vigil. It would be good to spend some time together without any interruptions. Perhaps Zannah would finally ask the question she kept avoiding.

Alyssa had no sooner made it back to the top of the wall when she spotted several people coming into view at the end of the street. Zannah squinted at the distant figures and then gestured towards the stairs.

“Get the others,” she said, picking up a recurve bow, bracing it against her foot and stringing it with one quick flex.

“Why would the Forsaken attack in the day?”

“Hurry,” said Zannah, not taking her eyes off the street.

Alyssa raced down the stairs and gathered as many people as she could who were willing to fight, then left orders to pass the word around and went back outside.

An attack in the daytime was unprecedented. Last night's defeat must have been a more painful blow than she'd realised. By killing so many Forsaken they'd made them desperate enough to try something new. Perhaps they were hoping to catch everyone asleep in the base and wipe them out. Alyssa's heart was pounding in her ears as she took the stairs two at a time.

Zannah was where she'd left her, casually leaning on her bow, but now she seemed perplexed.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, Zannah simply pointed down at the people in the street.

At least twenty or thirty were stood in a loose huddle not far away, all clutching weapons in a way she recognised. It suggested that until today none of them had ever held a blade or bow before. They seemed uncertain about what to do next and, looking at their faces, Alyssa thought she vaguely recognised one or two of them from her old life. Their homes, jobs and all of their wealth and influence were gone. Now they were ragged, dirty, almost skeletal figures with no name and nothing except the filthy clothing on their backs. Instead of a zealot's gleam burning in their eyes all she saw reflected was hunger. If they were Forsaken, they were like none she had ever seen before.

Defenders armed themselves quickly in the courtyard, before fanning out along the wall. Bows were strung and arrows nocked, ready for Alyssa's command, but no one fired.

Eventually a brave woman with filthy tangled brown hair stepped forward from the crowd in the street. Once she might have been beautiful, but now her dark eyes were too large in a hollow face, and her skin was blistered and cracked.

“Open the gates and give us your food,” she declared, waving her borrowed short sword for emphasis. “Or we'll come in and take it.”

A ragged cheer went up from the others in the street. It was ludicrous, but no one on the wall was laughing or even smiling. Zannah's grim expression turned even more sour as she looked past the rabble for the real perpetrators.

“What's your name?” asked Alyssa.

“Pella Rae. Are you going to open the gate?” she asked, not noticing that twenty bows were held at the ready. If the crowd was nothing more than it appeared, they would be dead long before any even made it to the top of the wall.

“Who sent you, Pella?”

“Fenne. He said we had to earn our place.”

His was the mercenary camp with the worst reputation. Alyssa had never been anywhere near it, but the stories she'd been told by the few that escaped were horrible.

“If you lay down your weapons, you can come inside,” said Alyssa.

Zannah hissed between her teeth and Alyssa felt a few others on the wall looking at her askance. “They can't be trusted,” warned the Morrin. “This could be a ruse to get them inside. They could be working for him.”

Alyssa shook her head. “They're hungry and desperate. They need our help.”

“I can drive them off,” said Zannah, nocking an arrow. “If I kill or wound one of them, the others will scatter.”

“Put down your bow, Zannah. Go back to your families,” she said, addressing the other defenders on the wall, but they hesitated. “I'll deal with this. You've trusted me so far.”

“The Morrin is right,” said Monella, stumping up the stairs. There was more vinegar in the former priestess's words than normal. She passionately hated Zannah, and Alyssa could see that it had cost her greatly to agree with the Morrin. “We trust you, but we don't know them.”

“We can't turn them away,” said Alyssa. “Fenne won't let them back inside his camp and if we do nothing they'll starve or freeze to death tonight. Or something worse could happen.”

Monella flinched but didn't back down. Several tears ran from her rheumy eye but she didn't notice or care. “That's true.”

Alyssa turned to face the older woman. “Are you saying you don't care what happens to them?”

Everyone on the wall was waiting for her to speak. Several emotions flickered across Monella's face and it took her a long time to answer. “We can't lock them up, but letting them just walk in doesn't sit right. They need to swear an oath.”

“What kind of oath?”

“One of fealty, to you.”

“They're not servants, Monella.”

“They need to swear a blood oath,” she insisted. “To do no harm to anyone here and to follow your orders. If they all agree to that, they can come inside.”

“That seems fair,” said Zannah. Alyssa was alarmed to see several people on the wall were nodding in agreement.

“I'm not royalty,” protested Alyssa. “And a blood oath is not something to be sworn lightly.”

Monella's crooked smile was unnerving. “Then it shouldn't be a problem for them to make it.”

“This is wrong. Don't do this.”

Alyssa looked for support to oppose this absurd idea but everyone was staring at her with the same adoring expression. She offered guidance to others but that didn't make her their leader. She tried to explain this but they would not change their mind.