Irona 700 (46 page)

She heard her dress rip, but all she felt was a jolt of power from the cord around her waist. The monster's features displayed both surprise and rage.

“What are you doing, woman? How—
You are wearing a tandikat!
”

Tandikat
: assassin killer, the gift Koriana and her children had given Irona for just this purpose. She did not speak, just watched, amazed, as the Beru unraveled. A torrent of identities came pouring out of it and faded away into space. She caught glimpses of her juvenile bodyguards at Didicas: Silay, Biam, Dofen; there was Lascar 730, dead at Lopevi; Koriana was there and all her children seeking revenge for their shameful heritage; and others, a multitude slain by Maleficence rushing by her: the four hundred betrayed at Vult; Raung, son of Romeral, laughing at his killer's fate; the countless dead betrayed at the Battle of Podakan-Zaozerny … Veer Machin, still astonished. At the end she thought she heard a cry of, “Well done, Queenie!” or could it have been, “Well done, Dam”? Their voices had been so alike.

Maleficence was gone, dissolved. Even Raung's screams outside had ended. Irona was alone in the tent with Veer's body.

It wasn't fair! Why should she be still alive, when so many thousands must have died in the night? They would all have wanted to live, and she only yearned to die. But there was sunshine and birdsong outside the tent, and inside two corpses and one crippled old woman lying on the floor, wishing she could die.

Eventually it was thirst that forced her to move. The ground was impossible for her to walk on, a tangle of rocks and tree roots, but she dragged herself on two hands and one knee down to the river. Raung's was not the only corpse around, so the rats and ravens did not molest her. It was late on the following day before Meluak's men arrived.

She was, unfortunately, still alive, so they dosed her with Source Water and rushed her down to the town for some loving care. She was beyond caring, beyond speech, beyond eating, but they would not let her die.

The next day, or perhaps the day after, she was slumped in a chair in the same dingy little room, which stank of onions and had roaches. She was watching an industrious spider in the dormer window alcove, spinning a web—climbing, rappeling, going to the center to test its architecture, then spinning more. Grand Admiral Meluak himself came to see her, big and loud and odiously cheerful. She ignored him; her world was closed, and he wasn't part of it, less important than the spider.

“Irona? I'm truly sorry about your consort.”

Go away.

He sent everyone else away and pulled up a chair.

“You did it again, Irona.”

Who cared?

“You weren't very popular, keeping us at sea, all those ships. We were running out of water, out of food; lot of seasickness. The allies were threatening to head for home, some of my own captains were ready to throw me overboard.”

Why didn't he just go away? Veer was dead, Podakan was dead, and she couldn't weep for them.

“It was lucky the savages attacked at night. We saw the light when they fired the ships, and there was still enough evening breeze that we could come in under sail.

“What we found … It was heartbreaking. We were far too late to help. Our lads must have put up a good fight, but the odds had been hopeless. By the time we arrived, the ships were ashes and the tribes were heading for Tombe itself to do a little recreational looting and raping. I was so mad I ordered, ‘No quarter,' but I don't think what I said made any difference. The numbers were on our side then; we slew without mercy. Tombe River ran red under the moon. Of course, the next day, when we started up the river, we found more of the same—Benesh corpses everywhere.

“But now we're ready to clean up the interior, the villages: the women and children. Benign can have a slave girl in every kitchen. We're going to depopulate Muhavura and sell it off as garden plots.”

Lots of suffering. Podakan would have been pleased. He would have been pleased whichever side lost.

“Irona!” The big man pulled his chair closer and bent so far forward that he could peer up at her face. “Where are the Shapeless? Did they join in? Haven't they arrived yet?”

When she didn't speak, he grew louder. “Irona! I must know! There were reports of Shapeless seen in Tombe, but then they disappeared.
Irona 700, tell me!
”

“Gone,” she whispered, wishing more than anything that he would just go away.

“Gone where?”

Shrug—
don't know
.

“Will they be coming back?”

Shake.

“You're sure of that?”

Nod.

He regarded her doubtfully, perhaps wondering if she were a Shapeless herself.

“Is it the casualties that are worrying you? Don't worry about that! Yes, you brought an army here and then staked it out as a lure and ordered me to keep the main army away until the prey took the bait, but don't worry about it! Such things have to be done in war sometimes. You won! You saved the Empire yet again. We saw a few Shapeless, but they sort of melted and disappeared and that was that. Saw the game was up, I expect. So it won't be held against you. They'll fete you back in Benesh when you get there. You're a shoo-in to be the next First, Irona!”

She closed her eyes. Let Ledacos or anyone have it. Veer was dead, Podakan was dead. Ambition was dead. She would refuse all Source Water and just die.

“If we can stop worrying about Shapeless now,” Meluak said, “there's another little war waiting. All the allies rallied to our call this time—some more than others, o' course—all except Genodesa. So it's next! The loot will be incredible, gold and art and slaves galore. The allies are all salivating at the thought of their shares. I think I'll just let them loose and turn up for the sharing-out.”

To the victors the spoils.

The big man rose and put the chair back where he'd found it. “One other thing you won't have heard yet. The Genodesans didn't just sit back with their arms folded. They put Ledacos 692 to the sea death. That's why they're marked for destruction.”

Ledacos?
It took a moment to sink in. Podakan, Veer Machin,
and Ledacos
—those three had defined her life, and now they were all gone. All of them.

The dam broke at last and she began to weep.

“That's good,” Meluak said, rising. “Tears are human.” He went away, shutting the door and leaving Irona to sob.

About the Author

Dave Duncan was born in Scotland. After graduating from the University of Saint Andrews, he moved to Canada, where he worked as a petroleum geologist for thirty years. He is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels, among them
A Rose-Red City
,
Magic Casement
, and
The Reaver Road
, as well as the historical novel
Daughter of Troy
, which he published under the pseudonym Sarah B. Franklin. Under the name Ken Hood, he wrote the Longdirk series, which includes
Demon Sword
,
Demon Knight
, and
Demon Rider
.
Children of Chaos
(2006) was nominated for both the Prix Aurora Award and the Endeavour Award. Duncan is a founding member of SF Canada. He continues to live in Canada with his wife, children, and grandchildren. Visit the author at
daveduncan.com
and
openroadmedia.com/dave-duncan
.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Dave Duncan

Cover design by Andy Ross

978-1-5040-0592-0

Published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com