Authors: Tom Lloyd
Kebrai gave a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘Your faith in the Lawbringers is misplaced. They deal with thieves and runaways – not demons. They’re unlikely to recognise the signs of Sharish’s hounds, let alone spread panic by letting it become common knowledge. Would you like to be the one to tell my master you ignored such a detail as the location of his home?’
‘Better than being the one to walk up to the door,’ Sorpan said darkly. ‘I’ll gladly leave that pleasure and all the glory that goes with it to you.’
‘We have others we can send – expendable types – to draw out anything like that.’
‘And hand over any final shred of surprise we might have? Please tell me, Sharish, you were a little more restrained this time? An Imperial administrator dying in his office will serve as fine fodder for the city’s gossips without a clear link to last night’s murders.’
The woman nodded. ‘The phantom helped there at least, diminished their hunger, but they’ll roam the city tonight until they’ve fed.’
‘At least the victims will be unrelated to our tattooist,’ Sorpan mused, before turning back to Kebrai. ‘That helps our cause, muddy the waters for anyone trying to work out what we’re up to.’
‘He’s one man alone,’ Kebrai said, faint colour appearing in his bloodless cheeks. ‘I can summon more than enough support to ensure our net is tight.’
‘You don’t need to,’ Sharish interjected. ‘I’m not risking tonight happening again. Those Smoke mercenaries of yours, how many do you have?’
‘Six.’
‘Then I’m taking them for the hounds.’
Kebrai blinked. ‘Are you sure?’ he said quietly. ‘Is that not rather drastic?’
‘Not if Priest’s going to be watching me work,’ she insisted. ‘I can’t keep hounds on the hunt with a … with one of
them
nearby. I need to bind each one to a body – it’ll drive the men insane, but not immediately and the hounds can hunt independently that way. We can have them spread out across the city and search for our prey’s scent – I’ll need to be somewhere secure and quiet if you want them under control, but it speeds up the hunt.’
‘What about this Lawbringer?’ Sorpan pressed. ‘If the two are friends, he might know where our quarry is. This absence could be a result of last night or something else entirely, but we should assume he’s gone into hiding. He and I are a cautious breed – he won’t run straight off, but he’ll have a back-up plan ready.’
‘You want to take a Lawbringer and strip his mind?’ Kebrai demanded. ‘You believe that’s the more cautious approach?’
‘I want to know more about who this Lawbringer is and where he fits into the picture. I want his identity and skilled watchers in his shadow. I want our tattooist found and something more considered than a mad scrambling chase to take him.’
Kebrai was silent for several long moments. ‘I will have to call in additional people for the work. What Priest will say about increased exposure I cannot tell you.’
‘Make your arrangements,’ Sorpan said with a sniff. ‘I’ll take the first shift tomorrow. Sharish, how long before we have your hunters deployed on the city?’
‘The following morning, assuming I can find the supplies I need.’
Sorpan nodded. ‘Then with luck we’ll have something to show Priest. Or the city will be in uproar and all the Astaren and Lawbringers out hunting us. Either way, what we’ll have managed won’t be boring.’
It was well into the night by the time Narin returned to the house. The snow had stopped and an eerie silence now coated the city. The inverted twilight of a world under snow left him feeling feverish and disorientated – never more so than when he crossed the Tier Bridge heading into Dragon District. The dark drifting water and dull gleam of shore were illuminated by a fractured heaven of clouds, pierced by the bright stars of the Gods above.
Even the lower tier of the bridge was twenty or thirty yards above the Crescent at its peak, while the sparsely occupied upper level was a wasteland of half-derelict houses looking down at the towers of Dragon District beyond. With a foot of wind-sculpted snow on the bridge, it proved a long and treacherous walk before Narin reached the clumps of rough houses that sheltered within the petrified forest of its many struts.
The bridge was a dangerous place at night, footpads haunting the cramped alleys around the buildings that lined the bridge. That late, Narin had the road to himself. He was forced to trust in the Sun-and-Sword emblem on his coat to dissuade those desperate enough to be out in such bitter weather.
Slowed by the depth of the snow, numbed by the cold and soaked from the knee down, it was a shivering figure that banged awkwardly on the door of the house and pressed close to the viewing port so his identity was clear. When the door was finally opened Narin almost pitched forward into the blessed warmth of the room beyond, lurching toward the kitchen door until dragged to a halt by Kesh.
‘Wait, damn you,’ she hissed, closing and barring the door behind him before she turned to help him struggle out of his coat.
Though it was wax-treated, the wet had still managed to permeate it and his clothes were now soaked to the bone.
‘How did it go?’ Kesh asked once the more sodden clothing was removed and hung up.
‘Bad,’ he said through chattering teeth as Kesh ushered him into the kitchen. His fingers prickled and stung as he neared the stove there and fumbled at a pan sitting on top.
‘Oh just sit down,’ Kesh ordered as she watched his feeble efforts.
She nudged him towards one of four chairs at a battered table and fetched him a bowl of stew. It took Narin a while before he could grip a spoon properly, but desperation won out and he was soon shovelling food into his mouth, moaning with pleasure at the warmth.
‘Now – tell me how bad.’
‘Wyverns,’ he said between mouthfuls, ‘tried to kill me. Kine’s cousins.’
‘They followed you?’
‘From Palace o’ Law. Dead now, but others out there.’
Kesh paled and her hand went instinctively to the hooked hatchet on her belt.
‘Damn, we thought we had at least a week or two before that happened.’
‘Where’s Enchei?’
‘Getting some sleep along with Myken.’ Kesh hesitated. ‘Narin, he’s been looking spooked all day. I’ve never seen that before, it’s making me worried.’ She frowned. ‘Make that
more
worried, given what you’ve just said.’
Before he could reply there came the muffled thump of a fist against the door. Narin jumped at the sound, spilling stew over the table as Kesh rose to answer it. It took him a moment to remember that Irato had been following him all day – so skilled at shadowing that Narin hadn’t seen the former goshe once.
Irato didn’t stop to talk as he peeled off his snow-sodden coat and stamped into the kitchen. With barely a glance at Narin the burly man headed over to the remaining stew and doled out a bowlful for himself – apparently unhindered by his hours outside.
‘Trouble, then?’ Kesh said, sitting between the two men.
‘Pissant nobles,’ Irato grunted between mouthfuls. ‘Nothing Rhe and I couldn’t handle.’ He looked up at Narin. ‘You were a big help too, o’ course.’
Narin said nothing, too weary and overwhelmed to respond. He finished the last of his bowl and sat with his mind blank, staring down at the table as the warmth of the room continued to permeate through his body.
‘Emperor’s light!’ Kesh exclaimed. ‘Cheer up, why don’t you?’
‘What?’ Narin shook his head. ‘I’m tired is all. Today could have gone better.’
‘Well, it ends on a high so smile, you miserable sod.’
He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘What do I mean?’ Kesh sighed. ‘A year ago, if someone had asked you how, if you could choose anything, you’d want to be ending each day, what would you say?’
‘I, ah … with—’ Narin sat upright. ‘Piper’s lament, how could I be so stupid?’
He stood so quickly he lurched backwards and had to steady himself on the wall while Kesh and Irato exchanged looks.
‘Aye,’ Kesh said with a laugh. ‘So maybe you should stop staring into nothing and go sleep beside your two loves.’
Despite everything a stupid grin washed over Narin’s face. ‘Thank you,’ he said rather uselessly as he rounded the table.
If either of them replied, he didn’t hear as he headed up the stairs as fast as he could. At the top he slowed, realising how much noise he was making, and eased the door open to poke his head around it.
Kine’s bedroom was dark, just lit by the glow of the small fire.
‘Narin.’
He saw the dark face in the bed turn slightly as Kine whispered his name. She shifted weakly in a rustle of linen until she could lift her head and look at him, the brief white flash of a smile warming his heart in a way the stew hadn’t managed.
‘Aren’t you coming in?’
‘You don’t mind?’
There came a weary laugh. ‘Don’t be so foolish, my love.’
Narin crept in and closed the door with all the care his shaky hands could muster. That done he edged towards the small wicker cot where he could see the tiny cheek of his daughter twitch as she huffed gently in her sleep.
‘Come to bed,’ Kine urged.
He bent over her to kiss her on the lips. ‘I won’t disturb you?’
Kine smiled and fumbled at the blankets until she had freed a hand and taken a hold of his. ‘We will be the ones to disturb you,’ she said, ‘she needs to feed every few hours. Narin, your hand is freezing!’
‘The snow’s been falling all day. If you’d held out another night …’ Narin winced at the thought.
‘Then Lady Chance has been good to us, and I thank her for it in my prayers. Come, take off those damp clothes. Come to bed.’
Narin stared dumbly at her for a moment longer, then his senses returned and he hauled off his boots. Stripping off his tunic and trousers, he was halfway into the bed as he yanked his shirt over his head, but the jolt of his arrival provoked a moan of discomfort from Kine.
‘What is it?’
Kine blinked and pursed her lips. ‘Childbirth,’ she explained in a whisper. ‘Take care.’
Narin ducked his head, feeling foolish, and gently slipped the rest of the way under the blanket. Aware of how cold he was still, he kept his distance from Kine until the woman reached out and tugged at his pale waist.
‘Come closer.’
‘I need to warm up first.’
‘And I will warm you,’ she said firmly, ‘but I want you here right beside me. This night will be over quickly enough and I’ve dreamed of it for too long.’
Narin eased himself over, hardly daring to touch her dark skin but eventually unable to resist. As his fingers came to rest on her arm he watched with fascination the goose bumps raise on her shoulder. There came a sigh from Kine, both of pleasure and shock at his cold skin, as he fitted his body against the line of her hip.
‘My love,’ she murmured as he slid his arm across her ribs and held her as gently as he could.
The moment stretched out for Narin, a culmination of so much hope and fear he could scarcely believe it had even come, but before he could say anything more a cough from the cot sent a frisson through his body. Excitement and panic too as he realised how little he knew about babies. He eased himself up to look at her as another choked noise came from the cot, but just as his alarm flourished Dov opened her mouth and began to wail.
Kine patted him on the arm. ‘I’ll show you what to do,’ she said with a smile.
In the second bedroom, over the kitchen, Enchei lay staring at the ceiling in the dark. Without a lamp or fire in there it was almost pitch black, warmed only by the chimney from the stove below and the bodies of its two occupants. A grunt came from the other bed and Enchei turned to look at the bundled shape of Myken. The Wyvern warrior had gone to bed with as little ceremony as any person Enchei had ever met in his long years of soldiering.
Shown the narrow beds that stood on either side of the small room, she stripped down to her long cotton underwear without a word, draped her clothes over the end of the bed and wrapped the blanket tightly around her muscular frame. Within a minute, her breathing had told Enchei that she was asleep and he was left with his thoughts in the quiet of night.
Tell me about your children.
Enchei felt a chill run through his bones, an in-built fear reaction that was anathema to the soldier he had once been. It wasn’t just the subject, the shame he felt at leaving them, but the very real danger his twin girls would always be under.
The ice and snow of the Imperial City forgotten, Enchei felt a spring breeze on his cheek as his memory dragged him back to that final morning. The scents of spring on the wind, patches of purple crocus and yellow daffodils dotting the valley they called home – the warm touch of the sun on his face and the wriggling bundle of two young girls in his arms.
They had taken a last walk down to the paddock where his horses were waiting. One girl in the crook of each arm, he’d put aside his doubts and shame to spend a last few minutes with the pair. Enay’s arms were looped tight around his neck, knowing he was leaving, while Maiss was content to be cradled, her fingers brushing the stubble of his newly shorn head.
They stopped at the river as they’d done so many times before, watching the tiny fish dart through the clear, shallow water or rooting out the green-clawed crayfish from the stony bed. This time they just sat at the water’s edge and watched a leaf sweep down the sun-kissed water while the horses whickered gently on the far bank.
‘I have to go away,’ he had said eventually, fighting his tears as he spoke. ‘I have to leave.’
‘We know,’ Maiss had replied with an equanimous tilt of the head. ‘You have to go and fight the bad people.’
Enchei’s head had dropped at that. This last mission was not to fight bad people, it was to be the bad people, but how did a man tell his daughters that as he abandoned them? His mission would take him beyond the borders of the Empire, to the minor nations that existed beyond the mountains and forests that held even the Empire of a Hundred Houses at bay. A place beyond the Empire, something that was rarely acknowledged at all by those within. There he would foment civil war and overturn a dynasty five hundred years in the making – all for the chance to investigate a single, unique house that lay at the heart of it.
‘That’s not what I mean,’ he said haltingly. ‘I have to go away and not come back. I did something foolish and if I stay you’ll be in danger.’
‘You’re not coming back?’ Enay asked with a tremulous voice. Of the pair, she’d been the one plagued with dreams of him not returning, tormented from an early age by such fears. Now they were coming true.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I … I’ve left a message for each of you, in your heads.’ He touched them each on the forehead as he spoke. Normally such a mention of his unnatural skills would bring grins from both, but now they could only fight back the tears. ‘You cannot tell anyone about this, not even your mother, do you understand me?’
Of course they didn’t, how could they?
Enchei shifted in his bed as the faces in his memory wavered and cracked briefly, tears spilling down the cheeks of both while he hugged them close.
‘I will make you forget what I’ve said, for a time. I’m sorry but I have to.’
‘Why?’
‘Because people will notice if you’re so upset about me leaving. I must make it so you don’t remember this conversation until someone comes to tell you I’m dead. You will know it’s not true, but you can tell no one, it’s too dangerous. When that time comes, you will find the message in your heads – my last words for you.’
He hated himself for doing it, but there was no other way and with a small effort he dulled that moment in their minds – shifted it to the back of their memories until the day it was allowed out again.
I’m sorry, girls,
Enchei said in his mind from two decades later.
I hope you managed to forgive me.
He rolled over and tried to pretend tears weren’t threatening in his own eyes. The memories cut like a knife – worse even, for this he could not block out or ignore. This pain cut too deep for him to bury as he had dozens of times with battlefield wounds. Not even Ivytail could drown this personal a loss and he didn’t try. Instead, Enchei lay in the dark and listened to the once-familiar sound of a woman sleeping close to him.
And there he found more loss, the touch and scent of the wife he’d left behind – the woman he’d loved and lied to as he abandoned her. A tight embrace, a fierce kiss and the memory of a sleepless morning together before their girls had woken. It had not been enough, could never have been enough, but he could leave her nothing more of himself that morning. So he had simply ridden away, rifle on his back and sparing only one final look at the gate of their estate. She had waved to him then as she always did, putting on a brave face for her girls who clung miserably to her skirt.
The shame of that morning lived with him, undiminished. The betrayal of his House and deception of his comrades was something long forgotten in Enchei’s mind, a footnote to be acknowledged and nothing more. Of all the ghosts in his mind, those three figures at the door to their home remained the vanguard, and against them he would always be helpless.