Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (14 page)

Arjun forced himself to run faster, and in sprinting
leaps reached the alley to see an urchin girl of eight or nine cowering before
the thing, which was capering about leering at her hungrily with its upside
down mouth. Its belly was now distended.  There were shadow creatures watching
with cold curiosity, and shadow creatures seemingly trying to fight against the
thing. In some way they seemed to be able to almost, though not quite touch it.
For its part, it seemed much distracted by them. Arjun drew his sword, which in
his strange new sight seemed almost to glow amidst the darkness.

As Arjun charged, he called forth flame from the plane
of fire in his free hand. The fire did not and could not burn him with his
magic active, and it spouted through the fingers of his closed fist. The thing
looked at his hands in surprise, then at his eyes, and it paused for the
briefest moment. Arjun knew, somehow, that there was comprehension in its eyes,
that it knew he could see it, and why. It turned and fled as fast as it could
go, racing forward in the darkness. Arjun chased after it. Behind them, Inina
whispered something comforting to the girl who still whimpered in terror.

As Arjun rounded another turn in the alley, he saw the
path of the thing reach a sewer entrance, and saw the lead grate had been
ripped loose as if it had been so much straw. The entrance was just barely
large enough for a man, being meant for slaves to use, and without hesitation
he dived in, skittering downward in the slime of the steep passage. Above him,
he could hear Inina curse as she decided to follow him.

Arjun again cursed himself. This was all his fault,
and he had to stop it now. He had no idea what that thing might do, or how long
it could linger in the world, but he would let no one more be murdered if he
could help it.

He hit the bottom with a thud in a pile of refuse. The
trail went along the service path of a main line. He raced after it. The sewers
looked very different in his new sight. It was simultaneously pitch dark, and
yet as clear as if the noonday sun had somehow reached it. He could see shadows
and spirits, though they were, contrary to what he’d expected, fewer down here.
Then he remembered Inina. She cursed loudly on hitting the bottom, then started
fumbling in the pouch where her small lamp must be. Arjun turned and opened his
hand, letting bright flame light her way. She raced after him.

14.
The Tale of Wrong Turns

They followed the trail through the sewers for weary
minutes, tiring and the air beginning to burn in their lungs as they ran. The
trail passed into a smaller, higher, but long disused looking side passage. The
channel at the side was filled with rubble and stagnant ponds instead of a
stream of foul water. Pieces of rubble were scattered on the path as well, and
sections were missing from the ceiling. Up ahead, the passage seemed caved in
entirely, but to the right side opened a crack in the wall. The trail of the
thing went there. Without hesitation, Arjun followed. Inina did so too, but
less happily. The tunnel was a narrow and treacherous crack in the rock under
the city, and they proceeded slowly. From the leaps and dodges of the trail,
the thing was slowing too, but not so much as they.

At last, it opened onto another kind of passage. Even
the half-moment’s glance he spared told Arjun that the stonework here was not
that of modern Zakran, and there were strange designs carved into the walls.
The floor was thick with dust, but there were large, misshapen footprints in
that dust.

“Arjun… where are we going?” whispered Inina, “Are
these… the tunnels they say are under the city?”

“I think so,” he replied, “and those footprints are
probably of ghouls.”

She shivered, but followed him.

On and on they went, through branching tunnels and,
here and there, small chambers carved with hideous scenes of leering demons or
monstrous gods, and dying captives. The work was in an abstracted and complex
style, but even allowing that Arjun was not so sure that the captives were human
or anything particularly close to human. The trail of the thing seemed to
meander more, as if it were forgetting its fear of them, or excitement at new
freedom, and was exploring. Arjun wondered what kind of mind and what kind of
hideous alien intelligence it might have. It seemed a thing of chaos.

 At last, they turned a corner, and there a macabre
sight greeted their eyes. The thing was capering about in a domed chamber with
many doors, watching half a dozen of what Arjun now knew to be ghouls. The latter,
tall and gaunt, stared at the thing from their unnaturally tilted heads. Their
long tongues lolled out, and their eyes followed it, as if wondering whether it
was alive, and if so, could they eat it. Arjun ignored the ghouls and ran
straight at the thing. It turned about and looked full into the spouting flame
of his open palm. It seemed dazed for the least moment, and in that moment
Arjun pounced and drove his sword clean through its hideous body. The shadowy
form dissolved into a green mist of magic, then dissipated.

Then Arjun looked up at the ghouls. They looked into
his eyes. Their own were vague, empty, and yet somehow lifelessly mad and
cunning. He knew them for what they were, the tormented remnants of men and
women who should have died long ago, and perhaps wished they could have. They
might prey on the dying and feed on the dead, but he no longer feared them.
Something in his own eyes seemed to call to them, but then they fled, each a
different way.

“What… just happened there?” said Inina, her voice
shaking and her body shivering.

“They know that I can see them as they are, and I
think it reminded them of what they once were. They could not bear it, and
fled.”

“That spell you cast with Shirin the magus… I’m
grateful for what it gives you, but a more than a little afraid.”

“You aren’t alone in that, my love. But I am happy to
pay the price.”

She shivered again, but took his hand, and together
they headed back the way they’d come, or so they thought.

Arjun and Inina retraced their steps through the
ancient tunnels, but one point they must have made a wrong turn, for they came
to a place that was unfamiliar. They stopped to take a long-overdue rest, and
think about how to get back.

“We should have paid more attention to our footprints,
and less to our memories,” said Inina.

“It is my fault, for a little while the trail of that
thing was still visible, and that made it easy. Once it faded away, I realized
how little attention I’d been paying during the chase.”

“Ah… among the new things about you that scare me
Arjun, that you can see invisible magic trails left by almost invisible things
from… well wherever that came from,” she said, though scared or not, she put
her hand around his sword arm.

“I would have thought you’d find this flame in my hand
scarier,” he said.

“No, my love, that I like,” she replied, “And by the
way, didn’t you say using magic makes you tired? Why don’t I light a lamp and
you put out that flame.”

“It uses less energy than I would have thought, and…”

She put a finger over her mouth, and whispered in his
ear, “I hear something.”

They both went silent. From somewhere down a narrow
hallway to their left, one thick with dust, and lacking the footprints even of
ghouls, came what might have been distant voices. Arjun dropped his flame, and
Inina was plunged into total darkness. He however could soon see, dim but
growing, a faint flicker of lamp light. Two voices now became distinct.

“Honored Shalmansar,” said one, “I do not question
you, but why must we come out here to speak, in company with the ghouls?”

As second voice answered, “What is said now must stay
between us, and the temple has many ears. Fear not, the ghouls will not enter
this passage, for it is marked with the signs and image of lord Ur-Laggu the
Embracer, in his true form as it was of old, and in any case, I have tested my
magic against them before, and they flee me now.”

“The true form… THAT?” said the first voice with a
whispered gasp.

“Yes,” said the second.

“Honored one, men might fear to follow him if they saw
that form,” whispered the first.

“Let them fear, but follow him they will, when the
time is at hand.”

“I… I obey lord Ur-Laggu in whatever form he may take.
How do you command that I serve him?” replied the first, with some strength
returning to the voice.

“I have discovered that the grand priests at Har are
misled by false doctrines. It is our duty to protect the truth of Ur-Laggu. We
can take no action at this time, but you are patient and wise, I will dispatch
you as my emissary from Zakran. There you will win their trust over time, and
report to me what you find. I will have more instructions for you as matters
develop.”

 “False doctrines at Har? Then the corruption runs
deeper than we feared! I hear and obey, honored one. If I may ask, what of
those who are aiding us on the council? I do not think we can trust all of
them. Bal-Shim of course is one of ours. Mada dra Keshil perhaps, but that
slaving dog Ayab less, and the lord of Zash-Ulshad not at all.

“Indeed. But when any such treacherous plots reveal
themselves, we shall be ready for them. In the meantime, all in Zakran must be
brought under one firm hand, one hand to bend the people to obedience before
the gods, and above all before lord Ur-Laggu! Let the destruction of the
followers of the usurper Zamisphar be an example of the holy wrath to come!”
said the second, in a voice of rising intensity.

“May we live to see the day, honored one!”

“We will, fear not, but now, let us return before we
are missed…”

And with that, the voices and the faint light receded
once more. After a long wait in the darkness, as Inina shivered and clung to
Arjun, she at last spoke in the quietest whisper.

“What do you think that was about? It made my skin
crawl.”

“I think I know, but let’s discuss it as we go. You
have good ears,” he said as he lit his flame once more, cupping it in his
closed hand to give her eyes time to adjust.

“Look there, those are our footprints,” said Inina as
they went on, “I think this is the way.”

She was right, and they made the long way back to the
surface as Arjun shared his understanding of the names mentioned by the first
voice, and his ignorance of the deep doctrines expressed by the second.

~

Though very tired, Arjun knew what he had to do today.
He slept little, and dressed at dawn as a peddler in tattered clothes, with a
bag of trinkets slung over his shoulder. In that bag, below the trinkets, was a
change of clothes, and among the trinkets was a cheap box that happened to have
a dagger in it. Most else of use he carried for his task, he carried in his mind.

Inina slept the sleep of the exhausted. She was curled
into a little ball on the bed. He kissed her neck, and woke her gently.

“Bar the door behind me, dearest, and start gathering
what we most need to take in a hurry inside the red granite seal of Shirin. Do
you remember the word and gesture?”

“Yes my love…” she whispered as she uncurled sleepily,
put her arms around his neck, kissed him and rose.

He slipped out the door and she barred it behind him.

~

A peddler walked among the midday throngs entering the
citadel. Squads of guards attempted to keep some sort of order, and stopped
each one as minor officials made marks in fresh clay tablets.

A guard stopped the peddler, who stooped under his
tattered cloak, but whose weary face looked young. He smelled of sweat and
alcohol. An official eyed him with mild curiosity.

“Name, and purpose in the citadel?”

“Heb iru Shim, here to pay back taxes.”

“Perhaps, boy, you should spend less on wine, and you
might be able to pay your taxes on time,” said the official, with cynical
contempt in his voice.

“I fear you are right, master, and I will do my best,”
said the peddler, as the official waved him through, attention already on the
next visitor.

The citadel was a busy place this time of day, and
crowds, guards, and soldiers were everywhere. At last however, in a
refuse-filled niche behind some storehouses, the peddler found a place to be
alone. He removed his clothes, and donned the short sleeveless tunic of a city
slave. He slipped a clay seal on a cord around his neck, marking him as city
property, and assigned to the citadel. Lastly, he pulled a slaves harness bag
out of his sack, and strapped it to his shoulders. In the lower compartment of
the bag, he put a few meager foodstuffs, a bronze dagger wrapped inside a rag,
and a set of gambling sticks. He buried the dispensable peddler’s goods, as
well as the carefully wine-soaked kilt and cloak, under some broken potsherds
and planks of wood.

As he left the niche, Arjun forced down any fear he
might feel, and focused his mind on what he must achieve. It would have to be
done without the spells he had most wanted, and there was a chance someone
would search his bag, open the rag and the stale bread, and find his dagger. On
the other hand, to be a city slave was to be insignificant, and he hoped he
might be beneath notice when it counted. He headed for the slave barracks,
where, if he was correct, the next shift of slaves might be emerging in not too
long, and one of them would be on duty to deliver bread to such prisoners as the
city intended to keep alive.

He was not disappointed. The slaves came from the
barracks, and some of them headed for a long low open building where flat
ration bread was stored. Guards and soldiers got what was reasonably fresh,
anything left over, however stale, became rations for the more important
prisoners in the tower.

Arjun followed the slave who picked up the scrap
bread. Slaves normally moved with anything but efficiency, and this one was no
exception. He stopped to talk to whomever he might have any excuse to do so,
and then made his leisurely way to a public urinal. Arjun read the man’s slave
tag, which named him as Begu, and promised a reward of five silver moons for
his return if he should be found outside the citadel gate. Arjun knew the reward
was to encourage free citizens to want to report escaped slaves.

Not for the first time, Arjun found himself in
agreement with his father’s views against slavery. Unfortunately, however, he
had ill to do this man. As Begu left the urinal, Arjun walked next to him.

“Afternoon.” he said with what he hoped was the right
of friendliness and hopelessness, “My name’s Sinin, just got assigned to the
citadel today. This place is the worst! Well, except the last one.”

Begu chuckled appreciatively, if not with much
interest.

Arjun continued, “Any good place to throw the sticks,
with no guards too close by to spoil the game? I’ve got a couple of pieces of
dried spiced meat to wager, and a copper crescent I found in the road.”

Now the other’s eyes lit up, and he replied, “I’ve got
a few sticks of anise bread I stole from a supply delivery when they weren’t
looking, and some lead wire I pinched from those idiots over at the
construction detail. Tell you what, I know just the spot. I’ve got a couple of
minutes left before they start to care… just enough time for a game or two.”

Arjun knew the slaves on those other details could be
whipped if the items Begu had stolen were noticed missing. He felt a little
less uneasy about what he intended to do. The two of them arrived at a narrow
space between two stables for messenger horses. There were people about not far
away, but no one was paying particular attention to two slaves squatting in the
filth.