Authors: Tony Shillitoe
T
he flight of three huge Ranu dragon eggs over Port of Joy on the day preceding the coronation drew everyone out of the factories, the shops, the inns and taverns, and the houses to watch in awe. Following hard on the astonishing news of the new king’s tragic assassination came the glorious defeat of the usurpers’ armies on the North Coast plains and the people were overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions, but the call to celebrate the coronation of Prince Shadow as Inheritor’s legitimate successor was received with universal joy, especially as the news was spread by Jarudhan acolytes distributing free bags of euphoria to everyone in the Quarter temples. Business owners complained bitterly at the disruption to their workplaces during the five days of preparation for Shadow’s coronation, but events were beyond their control and many grudgingly accepted the situation.
Speculation about the future under King Shadow was rife in the homes and the markets and inns as the people prepared for change. Rumours flew faster than the truth. Some believed that Shadow and the new Warlord, Fist, were the kingdom’s saviours. Others argued that Shadow had arranged the murder of
Inheritor and curried the support of the Ranu. The faithful said it was Jarudha’s plan to bring peace. Many people simply didn’t care so long as the euphoria was freely given out.
‘He’s the darling of the Seers. We’re in for a new order. I wouldn’t want to be a sinner now.’
‘Too late for you.’
‘It was always going to happen. You can’t have that many princes and hope they’ll all happily accept not being king.’
‘It’s in their blood to kill each other off. Their great-grandfather did it.’
‘Who cares? What can we do about it? They make the rules. We just get on with it.’
‘Poor people just stay poor people. A king’s a king, nothing else to us.’
‘Shadow will be a good king. He’s got his father’s backbone. Inheritor was never going to last long.’
‘They didn’t find Inheritor’s body. Don’t you think that’s strange?’
‘I thought Inheritor and Thirdson were close. Why would Thirdson plot against him?’
‘Don’t you listen? Thirdson was lost at sea. He was coming to Inheritor’s rescue. It was River who had the rebel army.’
The conversations and conjectures, truth mixed with lies, ebbed and flowed according to the amount of ale and passion involved throughout the city and into the towns and villages. People took sides in the debate about who had done what to whom, but most believed the theory that Shadow somehow saved the kingdom from imploding just when the Ranu arrived and looked like becoming a threat to the future. ‘He’s shrewd and he’s a man of Jarudha. What more could we want in a king?’
Crystal Merchant made certain no one knew where she was going, not even her partner, Lin, before she descended into the tunnels beneath her house, carrying a bag of food and medicines. Waiting for her at the entrance to the old smuggler’s tunnel that led to a cave in the cliffs, Hunter took the bag and led her along the damp and long-abandoned route, his lantern dimmed to minimise the chance anyone might notice a light in the disused section. As the susurration of the waves reached Crystal’s ears, they diverted into a smaller, natural tunnel in the rock, bending low to navigate the narrow and winding passage for a dozen paces before reaching a cavern. Hunter placed the lantern on a rocky ledge, returned the bag to Crystal, drew his hand-held thundermaker and immediately retreated through the dark to take up silent watch at the tunnel entrance.
Alone, Crystal squatted and touched the brow of the injured man lying on the cavern floor. He was still running a temperature. She opened her bag and rummaged through the contents, finally tipping them onto the ground in frustration. She slid her arm under Inheritor’s head to lift it gently and his eyes flickered opened. ‘I’ve got some medicine for you,’ she told him. She selected a small jar from her collection on the floor, uncorked it with her teeth and tipped it towards Inheritor’s lips. As she poured a small measure into his mouth, Inheritor coughed and some green liquid dribbled onto his bearded chin. ‘Swallow,’ she coaxed. ‘You need this.’ Inheritor’s eyes closed, but he swallowed awkwardly. When he was finished, she lowered his head. ‘It will make you sleep more, but my surgeon assures me it will fight the poison in your system from your injuries.’ She figured he was too delirious to understand, but talking made her feel she was doing the right thing.
She’d been lucky to find the injured king in the catacombs beneath the palace, and then it was just as she conceded on her third attempt that searching for him was pointless. They encountered only the one group also looking for the king, but, thereafter, they were more cautious. She knew others were searching for him, but they avoided further encounters more by luck than planning. Hunter stumbled upon the king when he lowered the lantern to illuminate a very small, lateral, floor-level opening. Inheritor had squeezed into the tight space and was waiting to die. She was grateful to Hunter for carrying the unconscious man the length of the tunnel and into the old smugglers’ caves, and she asked him to keep the knowledge of what they had done from everyone else, even Lin. ‘The less who know for now, the better,’ she advised. ‘Inheritor is a dead man, and I suspect if we are found with him we will wind up dead as well.’
Her surgeon supplied her with medicines and she ensured his silence with the promise of a significant ongoing supply of free euphoria. She felt terrible for not sharing her secret with Lin, but instinctively she knew the unique situation demanded an absolutely rigid level of confidentiality because of the danger to Inheritor’s life, and when she heard the official story being spread throughout the city—that he had been murdered as part of an attempted usurpation by his brothers—she knew that her decision was the right one. Shadow’s eagerness to pronounce his brother’s death without a body to bury confirmed her misgivings. She picked up a cloth from the jumble and mopped Inheritor’s brow.
Now, what do I do with you
? she pondered.
Warlord Fist was justifiably proud of his new status. His triumphant return to Port of Joy coincided with Shadow’s coronation and he was feted in the city as the
hero and saviour of the kingdom and he relished the praise. When the celebrations were over and he’d drunk his full measure of ale and wine, he spent the next day recuperating, wishing to be alone and undisturbed in his new quarters at the barracks. So the sharp knocking at his door in the early afternoon was like having his head galloped over by a squad of cavalry and he promised himself that he would send the perpetrator straight to the basement of the Bog Pit. ‘Yes?’ he slurred as he swung open his door. Two soldiers saluted. ‘What?’ he demanded, blinking in the sunlight, oblivious to his state of undress and the stench of stale alcohol wafting from his room.
‘Warlord, there is a prisoner you might want to see,’ a soldier informed him.
‘There were no prisoners, you idiot,’ Fist retorted. ‘We killed them all.’
‘Warlord, it’s not a soldier.’
‘Then who the hell is it?’ he demanded.
‘The sister of the thief, Warlord. She was located in a village.’
Fist blinked and swallowed.
I’m dry as a bleached bone
, he complained silently. ‘What thief are you talking about?’
‘The one you gave orders to catch, Warlord,’ the soldier explained. ‘And the assassin.’
‘When you were still a Hordemaster, Warlord,’ his companion added.
The information crystallised in Fist’s befuddled head. His eyes widened and he straightened his posture. ‘Bring her to me,’ he ordered. As the soldiers departed to fetch the prisoner, he felt a surge of elation. One battle won: another challenge close to resolution. King Shadow couldn’t help but be impressed with his Warlord. He was almost willing to believe in Jarudha if his fortune continued to grow so strongly.
Shadow sat on the throne in the octagonal chamber with the Seers and his two younger brothers assembled before him on chairs placed on the floor space at the base of the throne steps. He liked the sensation of being elevated above them, even though the meeting was called to determine what needed yet to be done to consolidate his position as the newly crowned Kerwyn king. His Eminence, Seer Scripture, in his elaborately embroidered blue robe, sat in the middle of his colleagues to emphasise his position, and Shadow knew the old man was bristling with irritation.
The Seers had promoted him to his father and supported his ascension to the throne. No doubt, they expected to rule the kingdom through him and he would ensure that the principles of Jarudha were enacted faithfully under his reign, but he was not going to bow to Scripture. Now that he was king, he commanded and expected mutual respect.
Word, as always, spoke first when the formalities of greeting were completed. ‘There is the matter of burying the former king,’ he began.
‘Your Highness,’ Shadow reminded him.
Word bowed his head and added, ‘Your Highness.’
‘Thank you,’ Shadow acknowledged. ‘It seems that my brother’s body has already been taken to the hells,’ he said, smiling sardonically. ‘However, my good brother, Lastchild, has found a replacement corpse for the official ceremony tomorrow. Should my errant brother’s body turn up after tomorrow, it will be disposed of surreptitiously.’
‘Is there any possibility of him returning?’ Word inquired.
Shadow smiled. ‘If he survives to escape from the catacombs—and he won’t—there’ll be no wisdom in
him trying to return. Within a short while, it will be widely believed that my father’s death was orchestrated cleverly by his eldest son and that Inheritor’s murder, arranged by my unfortunately absent brothers, was in part motivated by the anger at his cruel act of patricide.
If
Inheritor survives, he will be an outlaw, a man with the death penalty firmly fixed on his head, and anyone offering him support will also attract the death penalty.’ Shadow noted a subtle nod of approval from Seer Scripture.
I am much cleverer than you imagine
, he thought with satisfaction.
‘There is the matter of the artefact,’ Word said.
‘You know that it is safe,’ Shadow curtly replied.
‘But His Eminence believes that it is more appropriate for it to be returned to where it belongs.’
Shadow smiled. ‘If that was the case, then perhaps I should put it back in the old Royal museum. That is where it was found, isn’t it?’
‘It was found by Seer Sunlight,’ Word argued. ‘It belongs to Jarudha.’
‘And I told you that Jarudha has it,’ Shadow replied.
‘You have no right!’ Scripture yelled. ‘I order you, as Jarudha’s disciple, to return what does not belong to you!’
‘I
am
Jarudha’s disciple, Your Eminence,’ Shadow calmly agreed. ‘This will become Jarudha’s kingdom, now that I am king, and everything Your Eminence has taught me through Seer Word will come to fruition. But I
am
king, and I reserve my right as king to protect Jarudha’s kingdom from any threat. The artefact, this bag, is a threat so I have ensured that it will not be used against us. From now on, I would appreciate being considered the artefact’s custodian.’ He waited for Scripture or Word to respond, but to his surprise neither pursued the argument, although he could see they were both clearly fuming. ‘The matter is settled then,’ he announced. ‘What else?’
‘The individuals who know about the bag,’ said Word. ‘What is their fate?’
Shadow smiled smugly. ‘My loyal Warlord has found out where the thief and the assassin are going.’
‘You said they were heading east,’ Word reminded him.
Shadow nodded. ‘They still are. But we’ve caught the thief’s whoring sister hiding in a village and, after some not-so-subtle persuasion from Fist, she confessed that they were going to the old Ashuak capital city.’
Word looked to Scripture, who looked at Seer Law, before saying to Shadow, ‘It’s a ruin. Did she say why?’
‘It seems they’re being led there by an old woman.’
Again Word glanced at Scripture, before repeating, ‘But why? To what end?’
Shadow shrugged. ‘The girl apparently doesn’t know.’
‘Who is this old woman?’ Seer Law asked.
‘A bookshop owner in the River Quarter.’
‘Why would she get involved?’ Law murmured, as much to himself as to the assembly.
‘There’s also a Shesskar with them. He was the bouncer at the brothel where the girl worked,’ Shadow told them.
‘And they’ve all headed for the Chuekwer ruins,’ said Word, puzzled.
‘As will a small force of soldiers,’ Shadow announced.
‘I thought the Shesskar routed your Warlord’s hunting squad?’
‘They did. But they won’t interfere with the new force Fist is sending. The Ranu have sold us one of their dragon eggs. This time the hunters will fly like eagles after our quarry.’ Shadow waited for approval from the assembled Seers for his plan. Again, he was showing them that he was a more than competent king and one they would need to respect.
Instead, Word asked, ‘And what of our mutual friend, the Joker?’
‘History is the combined result of those who acted successfully, those who failed in their actions, and those who didn’t act at all. In fact, the success and failure of the first two are always predicated by the third. Remember that rule whenever you’re analysing why certain historical events had their particular outcomes.’
F
ROM THE OUTGOING ADDRESS BY THE FORMER PRESIDENT OF THE
R
ANU
P
EOPLE’S
D
EMOCRATIC
R
EPUBLIC
, S
HEI
A
LUK
A
HBRIM, TO THE
R
ANU PEOPLE IN
5055
T
he Ashuak guide paused at the crest of the hill beneath a broad tree, his cream robes glowing amber in the sunset light, and he waited for Meg and her party to reach him before he pointed north-east. ‘Chuekwer,’ he announced, and added more in his Ashuak tongue, which Meg translated with her hand clutching the amber beneath her brown smock. ‘City of the Old People,’ she repeated to Chase, Swift and Wahim. ‘Bad spirits rule there. No one lives in the ruins anymore.’ She gazed past the guide who had stopped talking to stare at the scene.
The hill on which they stood dropped into a broad valley that rose briefly to an eastern ridge before flattening onto a wide plain. Low stone walls cluttered the slope directly below, remnants of long-collapsed houses, and building detritus filled the valley and the opposing ridge, divided by long empty strips that might have been wide streets. But it was the vast middle-distance that drew Meg’s eyes. Scattered across the plain, bisected by a dark snaking river, stone ruins, their shattered facades washed amber like the guide’s robes, reared like forgotten memories as the fragments of a dream teased the edge of her consciousness. The nearest
structure on the northern river bank was a circular building, a massive decayed amphitheatre, its crumbling face glowing in the sunset, and beyond it, perhaps a thousand paces on, another series of structures reared from the ruins, shattered towers jutting above crenellated walls and abandoned stone buildings that sprawled over a vast area. Across the river, opposite the second conglomeration of structures, was the hollow shell of a third imposing ruin, its roof long collapsed, its surviving delicate grey spires grasping at the mauve clouds. In the fading light, shadows stretched from the decayed structures cluttering the plain, giving the ruins the effect of a land of artificial light and darkness.
‘This place is huge,’ said Chase, awe resonating in his voice.
‘It was the capital of a great empire,’ Meg told him.
‘And what happened to it?’ he asked.
‘It was a cruel empire, from what I remember reading,’ she said. ‘In the end, it was destroyed by its own greed and power.’
‘How can its own power destroy it?’ Swift asked.
‘The Ashuak people worshipped dragons,’ Meg explained, ‘and the dragons were their source of power over other people. They thought they controlled the dragons through their priests, but the dragons had other ideas. In the end, the dragons came and destroyed the city and the great Ashuak empire collapsed.’
‘You tell some weird stories,’ Swift said, shaking her head.
‘History is full of weird stories,’ Meg replied. ‘That’s why it’s important to know what has happened before.’
‘Look at that place,’ Chase said, and they all turned their heads towards a hill on the north-eastern perimeter of the ruins where the ruins of a dark, square building peered over a tangle of trees and undergrowth. ‘What lived there?’
‘We’ll find out tomorrow,’ Meg said.
‘We should set up camp before it gets darker,’ Wahim suggested. Meg informed the guide of their decision, but the guide began to argue. ‘What is he saying?’ Wahim asked.
‘He says this is not a good place to camp. Spirits will come and kill us in our sleep,’ Meg translated. ‘He says only mad people camp by the city.’
‘What about those mad people?’ Swift interrupted, pointing towards the distant river.
At first Meg couldn’t identify what Swift was pointing to, but then she saw the thin line of smoke trailing into the sunset sky. She spoke to the guide who stared in the same direction before he shook his head and gave his answer. ‘He says they are probably rabbit hunters,’ Meg informed her companions.
‘Rabbits?’ Chase asked.
‘The little grey animals we’ve been eating since entering this land,’ Meg explained. ‘People earn money from their skins.’
‘They’re plentiful,’ said Swift, pointing again to the nearest stone ruins. A host of rabbits were hopping across and sitting among the stones. ‘People here won’t starve from a lack of meat.’
‘So where will we set up our camp?’ Wahim asked.
‘Close to the river would be good. We need fresh water,’ Swift argued.
‘Then we’ll go there,’ Meg agreed. She told the guide of their intentions, but the man shook his head vehemently and waved his hands as he retreated from the group.
‘Where’s he going?’ Swift asked.
Meg turned from the guide who continued to retreat and said, ‘He won’t come any further. He says if we stay here we will die.’
‘Great,’ said Chase. ‘We come all this way and now we die.’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Swift told him sharply. ‘Are you going to order him to stay?’ she asked Meg.
‘No. We don’t need a guide anymore. This is the place we want. Tomorrow morning we can search the ruins. Tonight, we need to rest.’
‘Then we’d better stay on our guard if he’s right,’ Swift warned, watching the guide fade into the shadows at the base of the rise.
‘No fires tonight,’ said Wahim.
Meg picked up a stone, cradled it in her hand until it emitted a soft orange glow and passed it to Wahim. ‘I wish I knew how you do that,’ Chase said.
‘The warmth will be useful tonight,’ she said. ‘The clouds have gone.’
Chase gazed up at the star-filled night sky. A waxy moon sat a handspan above the horizon. ‘I wonder if Passion is watching the moon?’ he murmured.
‘I’m sure she is,’ said Wahim, passing the warming stone to him. ‘She knows how to take care of herself, Chase. Your sister looked after you as much as you looked after her.’
‘Who’s going to take first watch?’ Swift asked.
‘I will,’ Wahim offered, accepting a second warming stone from Meg.
‘I’ll go second,’ said Chase. ‘Where’s Whisper?’
‘She’s foraging,’ said Meg, preparing a third stone.
Hearing the clunk of stone on stone, faint and close, Swift crouched against the low wall and peered into the moonlit ruin. Shadows crept stealthily from dark patch to dark patch, momentarily silhouetted against the moonlight. She counted four—no, five—shadows moving towards their camp. She had to make a quick choice. She loosened her knife. Another silhouette crept across a patch of moonlight.
Six. Even for me, that’s
too many.
She slid silently along the wall, keeping a wary eye on the threat as she assessed her options for alerting her companions. A yelp startled her and a silhouette leaped from hiding, madly flailing arms and legs. A second broke cover, heading for the first, and also suddenly started dancing like the first, until both bolted, screaming with fear. Swift ran towards the darkness where she knew more were hiding and surprised two men in the shadows who immediately scrambled to their feet and fled after their colleagues.
Two to go
, she thought, and slipped into the shadows to listen.
A voice whispered nearby, but she couldn’t understand the words. Another answered. She judged they were within a few paces, probably behind the wall to her right. Then the men started yelling like their companions and as Swift stepped into the moonlight both were already running into the ruins.
‘What’s going on?’
She turned to find Wahim and Chase approaching from the river bank. ‘We had company,’ she replied.
‘You sure scared them,’ Chase said.
‘It wasn’t—’ Swift began to answer, but she jumped back in alarm as something touched her ankle. Looking down, knife ready to strike, she spied a black shadow sitting on its haunches.
‘The rat!’ Wahim declared, and laughed.
Swift lowered her knife and bent to scoop up Whisper. ‘I nearly turned you into a meal,’ she said.
‘Clever animal,’ Chase added.
‘
Tough
animal,’ Swift corrected. ‘She just chased off six men.’
‘What?’ Chase sputtered.
Swift explained the events. ‘The rabbit hunters?’ Wahim suggested.
‘I think so,’ Swift replied.
‘Should we shift camp?’ Chase asked.
‘Not tonight,’ Swift told him. ‘I think the rabbit hunters just met with one of the ruin’s ghosts. They’ll be too scared to come back in a hurry,’ and she scruffed the rat’s ears, much to Whisper’s delight. ‘I can’t wait to tell Meg.’
‘Let her sleep,’ Wahim advised. ‘She’s very tired and troubled.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Swift asked.
‘She’s been talking in her sleep,’ Chase chipped in.
‘Saying what?’
‘She speaks in another language,’ Wahim explained. ‘It’s strange to wake up and hear her.’
‘She’s a very strange person,’ said Swift. ‘She hasn’t said much, but she would have had a very hard life, losing her kids and living through all the changes. I feel sorry for her.’ Chase laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ Swift challenged.
‘You,’ Chase told her. ‘You haven’t exactly had it easy.’
‘None of us have,’ Swift retorted, ‘and if this adventure doesn’t pan out for us, and Meg is right about the Demon Horsemen, none of us will ever again.’
She was startled to be at the centre of a great library, surrounded by endless, overflowing bookshelves. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’ a voice asked.
She turned to a shadow of a man, featureless and dark. ‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Who are you?’ the shadow asked in return.
‘What is this place?’ she asked.
‘What you are looking for,’ the shadow replied.
‘But where is it?’
‘Where you are,’ the voice told her.
She turned back to the books, her restless reading urge stirring. ‘We’ve met before, haven’t we?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ the voice answered.
‘Can I read these?’
‘Read what you will,’ said the voice.
‘Have you read these?’
‘Many times,’ the voice replied.
They woke to a soft drizzle and a world cloaked in grey light, and retreated into the shelter of an old stone house to dry out their clothes and goods. Swift related Whisper’s night adventure to Meg while Wahim and Chase stoked a tiny fire to life in what once might have been the house’s common room. ‘Where to now?’ Swift asked when she finished her amusing tale.
Meg stared into the rain. ‘I will know the place when I get to it,’ she replied.
Swift snorted and shook her head. ‘You mean we have to search this entire city? Have you seen how big it is?’
‘We’ll start at the obvious places—the big ruins.’
‘What are you looking for, exactly?’
‘A library.’
‘Anyone for cooked rat?’ Chase asked. Meg turned to find Wahim and Chase laughing at Whisper who had decided to dry herself by the fire, so close that her black coat seemed to be smoking with steam.
Swift started laughing as well, while Meg scolded, ‘Whisper!’ which only drew a quizzical stare from the little animal. Then she flinched and scampered away from the flame, sat on her haunches and started licking her side that had been closest to the fire.
‘For an overnight hero, she isn’t the brightest animal I’ve known.’
‘She’s smarter than you,’ Swift quipped. ‘And she can fight better too.’ Chase responded by pulling a face at his sister, leaving Wahim and Meg laughing harder.
They shared their meagre rations—grain, dried fruit procured in an Ashuak town—and drank the fresh water provided by the river, but by the time they were ready to begin exploring the ruins, the rain hadn’t ceased. ‘Looks like we get damp,’ Wahim announced. ‘Which way first?’
‘The old palace ruins might be a good place to begin,’ Meg suggested. ‘Kings and emperors are fond of libraries.’
‘The palace it is, then,’ said Swift.
They walked through the rain between ruins until they found the main street that headed towards the building they assumed had been the imperial palace. ‘No sign of our rabbit hunting friends,’ Chase remarked as they walked along the wide road, skirting the rubble from collapsed buildings.
‘How long since this place was abandoned?’ Swift asked.
‘Three centuries,’ Meg told her. ‘The dragons destroyed much of it. Then an invading army pillaged it. Since then, a lot of the building material that could be easily salvaged has probably gone into the closest towns and villages.’
‘Wouldn’t it make more sense to rebuild the city?’ asked Chase.
‘Cities are complex places,’ said Meg. ‘They rely on a strong government and service infrastructures to take care of daily things like sewerage and water supplies and a host of things.’
‘How do you know all these things?’ Chase asked.
‘I read. I’ve seen places. I listen to people,’ she replied.
‘Who needs to know all that?’ Swift disputed.
Meg shrugged. ‘Somebody does. Otherwise there’d be no cities.’
‘That’s not a good sign,’ Wahim said. The others followed his gaze to the east, near the river, where
a flock of carrion birds circled purposefully low in the sky.
‘Dead animal?’ Chase suggested.
‘Or worse,’ Swift replied.
Meg’s attention was suddenly interrupted by an intruding thought.
This way.
She looked for Whisper and spotted the bush rat sitting atop a slab of stone, sniffing the air.
This way
, she repeated.
‘We’re heading over here,’ Meg announced.
The others turned. ‘I thought we were going to the palace ruins,’ Chase complained.
‘No. Whisper has found something,’ Meg explained.
‘Now the
rat
is leading us through the ruins?’ Swift asked.
‘You said she was smart,’ Chase reminded her.
‘Smarter than you,’ Swift retorted. ‘There’s a difference.’
Meg ignored the banter as she followed the bobbing and weaving bush rat through the ruins onto another wide avenue that led towards the north-eastern section of the city and the black structure in the middle of wild vegetation. Occasionally Whisper vanished, but she quickly reappeared, sitting up to make certain Meg was following as she continued to head inexorably towards the black ruin. ‘I had a strange feeling we’d end up going to this place,’ Swift said as Whisper’s intentions became clear.
‘Is this where you’re meant to go?’ Chase asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Meg. ‘I’m just following Whisper. She seems to know something.’
The road straightened and ran like an arrow to the base of a small hill, which they reached in the rain at what Meg guessed to be close to midday, making the walk longer than expected and emphasising the size of the old Ashuak capital. The road ended at a wide ditch that encircled the hill, and broken stone stubs on both
sides showed that a bridge had spanned the ditch. ‘It was a moat,’ Meg said.