Authors: Kevin Harkness
She nodded reluctantly and took the lead again.
Marick stopped her. “I know a better way. If we take the main corridors, we'll run into Adrix's lot for sure. Follow me.”
The route he took them on was a maze of back halls, rooms with two doors, and even a brief stint outside, slipping from a first floor window to a storeroom entrance. Finally, and unexpectedly for Garet, they found themselves in the back of the Red's section.
After checking for any witnesses, Salick took the lead again. With a quick, light step, she ran to Mandarack's door and tapped.
There was no answer. After a moment's hesitation, she opened it and called softly within, “Master?” But there was no answer, and she entered, the others following.
The room was in a state of chaos. The mattress had been dragged off the bed frame, and the bedding was torn and draped over it. Books had been thrown from the shelf, and the two chairs were smashed to pieces on the floor. Garet bent down and picked up a fragment of a tea cup. He felt the sharp edge of the broken china. He had used this cup all those weeks ago when he had questioned Mandarack's decision in bringing him to Shirath. Marick interrupted his thoughts.
“Salick, they've taken the Master!” he whispered fiercely. Salick started to nod, then stopped. She lifted the mattress up to look underneath. Sweeping the bedding back on top of the bed, she turned to survey the damage. A slow smile lit her face and lifted the small scar that rode her cheek.
“I don't think so, Marick,” she said, kneeling on one knee, and signalled the others to listen. They squatted beside her. “His shield isn't here,” she told them.
Garet scanned the wreckage. She was right.
“Adrix might have taken it,” Dorict said doubtfully.
Salick shook her head. “Then why leave everything else?” she waved a hand at the mess surrounding them. “Marick, can you make it to Relict and Tarix's room, and check on Master Branet as well?” she asked, but the only answer she got was the young Bane's swift disappearance into the corridors. She turned to Dorict. “Go back to your room and get the weapons ready. Garet, wait here for Marick, then follow Dorict back upstairs,” she instructed. She made to get up, but Garet stopped her.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
She smiled at him. “Don't worry, I'll go out by the infirmary garden and sneak back in through the kitchen yard. With any luck, I'll get some help and join you in your room in no time!”
Before he could protest further, she slipped out through the door and was gone. Dorict looked at Garet and he nodded. The young Bane followed Salick, leaving Garet alone in the ransacked room. He picked up some of the scattered books and placed them on the desk. Marick found him straightening the bed when he returned.
“Where is everyone?” he demanded, and Garet relayed Salick's orders. Marick nodded, face grim. “All the Masters on our side are gone. Branet's room looks worse than this; he must have put up a fight.” He lifted an iron bound club, nearly as tall as himself, the head bristling with lethal spikes. “This was on the floor. I guess Master Branet didn't get away.” He handed the heavy weapon to Garet. “Relict's axe was gone, but there were several other weapons there. I think Master Tarix was fixing them...” he said, then stopped short, choking back tears.
Garet put a hand on Marick's shoulder. He knew how much the little Bane idolized the weapons Master. “Don't worry. If Relict got away, I'm sure he wouldn't leave his wife behind.”
Even as he said it, he felt strange. His wife. He had never noticed the two of them together, working together as a husband and wife did on a farm. Was married life in the Banehall essentially a separate life, couples coming together only in the rare moments of quiet in the evening? He shook his head. This was no time to think about such things, though he would have given much to be able to stop for an hour now and remember the feeling of Salick's arms around him.
Marick tugged at his sleeve. “Wake up!” he hissed, and the two Banes slipped out to retrace their steps before climbing the stairs back to the third floor.
Dorict was waiting for them. He pulled them in and thrust weapons into their hands. His own pole, still sporting a deep nick from disarming Shoronict, leaned in the corner nearest the door. They waited for Salick, each conjuring possible disasters in their thoughts. With great relief, they heard a tapping and opened it to let in the Gold, followed by Vinir, wearing only tunic and pants and with her long blond hair unbound. Both carried tridents, which they propped beside Dorict's pole.
“All right, Salick,” Vinir demanded, stifling a yawn. “Tell me what's so important you had to ruin the best night's sleep I've had since that idiot Adrix demoted me!” She glared at her friend, the intimidating effect weakened by another yawn. “Oh, it's cold in here!” she said, standing on one bare foot.
Salick dragged her inside the room, and the confused Green sat on the nearest bed, folding her long legs under her for warmth. After a moment, Garet went to his trunk and pulled out his old shoes. He had clung to them, along with his other farm clothes, as a reminder of his origins and perhaps his future. They had been carefully repaired with a piece of leather from the storeroom and wrapped in his old tunic. He reluctantly presented them to Vinir, face red.
“Thank you, Garet,” she said, and slipped the battered shoes on her feet. She smiled at him.
“Are you finally ready to listen?” Salick demanded crossly.
Vinir grinned at her friend and waved her hand imperiously, holding out her legs so she could better admire her new footwear.
Her smile vanished as she listened to their report of what had been found in Mandarack's and the others' rooms.
“Master Relict's axe was gone?” she asked Marick, who had sat beside her on his bed.
The small Bane nodded glumly. “Master Tarix's chair was gone as well, but both pairs of crutches were still there.”
Vinir thought for a moment and said, “Master Relict could well be on patrol, but as for Master Tarix...” She left the sentence unfinished and put a hand on Marick's shoulder. “Don't worry. There's not a Bane in the Hall of Blue level or above that doesn't respect herâand the sacrifices she's made for the Hall.”
“Except Adrix,” Marick replied, head down.
Vinir ruffled his hair and asked Salick, “How can we get word to Master Relict or Mandarack if they are out of the Hall? They could be walking into an ambush if they come back tonight.”
Salick paced for a minute while the others waited. “The roof,” she said finally. “We'll go up on the roof and call down to them when they return.” She looked at them, her shoulders set and her chin thrust forward. “Get as many blankets and cloaks as you can find. It will be a cold wait.”
Vinir groaned and looked at the thin shoes she now wore. Marick shyly offered her the blanket folded at the head of his bed. She smiled at him. “Well, let's all go freeze together.”
Bearing their blankets and weapons, they climbed the ladder to the west wing's roof. This was a different section than the one where Garet and Marick had practiced. It was a floor shorter than that centre wing, but from it one could see the Banehall's courtyard and all the plaza, save that which lay directly behind them. The curved moon hung a hand's breadth above the retreating bank of storm clouds, turning their tops silver. Their feet brushed aside the powdery drifts and Garet looked down at the empty, snow-brushed plaza, knowing that the peacefulness of the scene was an illusion. Angry voices drifted up from the courtyard below.
Salick had crawled to the parapet. She waved the others over, palm down to signify that they should keep low.
Garet crawled beside her and lifted his head cautiously to peer over the edge. A mass of Banes crowded around the low stairs leading to the Banehall doors. Adrix stood at the top of the steps, listening to an anxious looking Gold on the step below. The young man was speaking rapidly and pointing to the centre bridge gate. Twisting his head, Garet looked and saw a line of torches approaching the Banehall. He pointed them out to the others.
Salick drew back her head and the others huddled with her below the lip of the parapet.
“I see about seven Masters who answer to Adrix, their Golds and Greens, and a few frightened Blues and Blacks,” she whispered. “Those torches might mean a patrol is returning.”
Vinir nodded. “Not even half the Banehall's down there. The rest must be on patrol.” She pulled the blanket tighter around her.
“Very convenient,” Garet observed. “All Master Mandarack's people are on patrol or taken prisoner so that Adrix and his followers can do something stupid.” He pulled the hammer-rope from under his cloak, but he knew the weapon would never reach the Hallmaster.
Salick put a restraining hand on his arm. “Don't do anything that will let them know we're here,” she warned. “Our job is to find out what we can and then warn whoever was sent out on patrol before Adrix made his move!”
Garet reluctantly nodded. He eased his head above the wall again as Adrix began to speak to the assembled Banes.
“Some of you have questioned my attempts to gain more power from the King, and to use those powers to protect us from those who wish Banes harm!” he said, his voice ringing off the courtyard walls. “Let those Banes who questioned now look at the King's guards approaching our Hall to try and destroy us.” He pointed at the approaching torches. “Trax has shown himself to be a traitor to this city. He attempts to destroy the only people who can keep Shirath safe from the demons.” The Hallmaster raised his hands above his head. “The people fear demons. Now, let them learn to fear Banes as well!”
Several voices were raised in support of his speech, but many Banes looked at each other in wonder and doubt.
“Spears and tridents to the gates!” Adrix called. “Keep those horses back!”
His supporters ran to the high iron gates that closed off the courtyard from the plaza. They stuck their weapons through the rails to present a deadly defense to the approaching guards. Banes with shorter weapons or no weapons at all milled behind them, standing on tiptoe to see their enemy.
“Don't worry,” Adrix said, coming down the steps and pushing to the front of the line, “we only need to hold them for a little while. We will soon have the weapons we need to drive these fools back into the river.” He laughed and slapped the back of the Master nearest him. “Let them float all the way to Solantor, and good riddance!”
Laughter sounded below as the party on the roof drew back again. Salick bit her lip, then told Dorict to watch in the opposite direction to see if any of their Masters were returning. The Blue took up his position but soon turned to the others, shaking his head.
“We can't do anything except see what happens so that we can tell Master Mandarack,” Salick complained.
Garet agreed, just as tense and nervous as Salick. If only they could do something. He leaned back against the parapet, thinking. Vinir shivered beside him, and he took off his cloak and gave it to her absent-mindedly. Salick was looking at the column of guards, some mounted and some on foot. A man on a tall, black horse led them, his steel and bronze armour shining in the moonlight. He was accompanied by footmen carrying lamps and standards.
“It can't be,” Salick said, her voice rising unwisely. She raised her head for a better look and Vinir reached over to pull her back down.
“Are you mad?” she hissed. “What is so interesting that you want to get us caught?”
“I think,” Salick began, “no, I know that the man leading the Guards is Trax. The King!” Her eyes shone. “He's a proud man, as proud as Adrix, but with as little reason,” she whispered. “Let's see Adrix try to bully him!”
Vinir shook her head. “You know the King better than I do, or most people, I'm sure,” she agreed. “But Adrix knows he can't back down without losing the confidence of those Masters down there. Most of them support him just because he's the Hallmaster, not because they agree with him.” She stuck a lightly-clad arm out of her wrappings and pulled her trident closer. “If he backs down in front of the King, they'll demand another vote.”
Garet straightened up. “Maybe he doesn't intend to back down,” he said. “Salick, what did Adrix mean about getting weapons to drive Trax back into the river?”
Salick shrugged. “I don't know,” she replied. “He has all the weapons of the Hall there already.” She thought for a moment. “He could be talking about others supporting the Hall,” she said, but then shook her head. “But that's not very likely the way most citizens feel about us now.” She looked questioningly at Garet. “What do you think he means?”
“There is one weapon that he can use,” he said, after desperately trying to find other possibilities. “How deep is the crevice at the Depository?”
“No!” Vinir cried, shocked enough to raise her own voice now, but Garet doubted anyone below heard her over the shouts and curses.
“How deep?” Salick asked, her eyes widening as she realized the reason for his question. “You can't mean that Adrix would use demon jewels against our own people!” she whispered.
Dorict came back to see what the commotion was and Marick told him, “Garet thinks Adrix has sent for jewels to use against the King and his Guards.”
The young Bane shook his head. “Salick was right, Adrix must want to become King. He'd use the jewels to control the city through fear, just like the demons.”
A clear voice rose above the hubbub of the enclosure below.
“The King comes to seek parley with the Master of Shirath Banehall,” a young man's voice rang out. “Let him come forth to speak!”
Garet looked down. A youth in a tunic of royal purple stood in front of the massed spears and tridents, their points barely an inch from his chest. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. One hand was held up in sign of truce and the other held a tall banner, its brocade a raging bear under a crown and starry heaven. The young man spoke again.