Far Called Trilogy 01 - In Dark Service (17 page)

‘Carter risked his life to save the town. What did you do? Lead the three of us along the river for those monsters to toss nets over us and bag us up like turkeys for a butcher’s counter.’

Duncan could barely contain his temper. ‘If I’d had a gun I would have fought with something other than my fists.’
And maybe have stood half a chance against the dozen slavers who jumped us.

‘The Landor warehouse staff only had swords to fight with. It doesn’t make sense to keep rifles and pistols at an oil warehouse,’ said Willow, as if she was explaining to a child. Exasperation crossed her face. ‘A single stray shot and you would be riding an explosion fit to send you flying all the way to the Redwater shoreline.’

‘I’m sure there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense to
you
,’ retorted Adella. ‘But where we are is where we are. Those monsters have the Landor harvest stolen and stored in their hold, and they’ve taken the Landor family and most of Northhaven for slaves.’

‘You’re not family,’ said Willow. ‘You’re hardly even a passing fancy.’

Adella rocked slightly with the impact of Willow’s words; she looked as though she was going to launch herself at his sister. Thankfully, the arrival of James Kurtain distracted the pair. The house slave dragged in a sack of food for their trough; behind him staggered three prisoners from the cage opposite, two women and a man, also weighted down with feed sacks.

James halted in front of the three of them. ‘When the bags run half full, grab one and follow me across to the cage opposite. Empty what remains into the food station, then you stay over there while I carry the sacks out.’

‘How safe is this?’ asked Duncan.

‘I’ve brought three people across from your friend’s cage,’ said James. ‘As long as three go back with no fuss or bother, nobody will care.’

Duncan scowled. ‘Damned if he’s
m
y friend.’

‘Boy, you better get friendly. The skels’ll kill you just for looking at them funny.’

Duncan watched the new arrivals emptying the food. The three visitors’ family and friends were already clustering around them, trying not to draw any attention to their obvious happiness at being reunited. Willow was right, as she so frequently was, God preserve her soul.
Too late to back out now.
With the sacks half emptied, Duncan shouldered a feedbag from one of the visitors, leaving the grinning Northhaven man to his kin while Adella and Willow did the same with their counterparts. Then the three of them followed James out of the cage, past a band of armed skels holding the door open, crossing the gantry and entering the pen opposite. The portholes in the fuselage here seemed a poor exchange for Carter Carnehan’s bruised mug. And by the look of surprise giving way to anger on Carter’s face as he saw the two unasked for additions to the prisoner exchange, Carter felt precisely the same way.
At least I’ve made the right decision, then
. Letting Adella come across on her own would have been tantamount to pushing a lamb into a wolf’s cave and hoping for the best.
Duncan Landor never hopes. He plans ahead.

Carter stood there glowering at Duncan, Adella and Willow, as they emptied their sacks into the feeding circle, prisoners already jostling for the first chance at fresh rations. James collected the empty sacks with a nervous glance towards the skels guarding the cage door before leaving with the hemp bags slung over his shoulder.

Carter spoke to Duncan’s sister. ‘No disrespect to you, Willow, but it was only
one
I was counting on receiving.’

‘Well, you’ve got all of us,’ said Willow. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’

‘Probably wouldn’t make much difference if I did, would it?’ said Carter.

‘As far as friendly greetings go, yours could do with a lot more work,’ said Willow.

‘My apologies, your ladyship. I guess I don’t have the benefit of an expensive finishing school to educate me.’

‘And
I
do?’ spat Willow. ‘I’m Northhaven raised and bred, the same as you Carter Carnehan. Don’t you be hanging any false airs and graces on me.’

Their needling was getting on Duncan’s nerves, but not as much as the bare-faced arrogance of this man. ‘We might have been taken as slaves, but we’re not sold yet,’ said Duncan. ‘It’s not on you to say who gets passed around like tobacco in an ale house.’

Carter snarled. ‘But it is for
you
? Your father’s money doesn’t mean shit up here and neither do you.’

Adella positioned herself between the two of them, but Carter was already moving around her to square up to Duncan. She was actually trying to reason with the idiot. Adella would have more luck arguing with a rock. ‘We’re all came over, Carter. And that’s because the best chance we’ve got of staying alive is by sticking together. I would never have crossed if I thought you felt differently.’

‘You’re wasting your breath on him. This is my currency, Carnehan,’ said Duncan raising his fist, ‘same as it was back in Rake’s Field before your father showed up and saved you from a much needed lesson in manners.’

‘You think you can teach me?’ laughed Carter, ignoring what Adella had said, neglecting her, just like he always did. ‘How’s that work, like this—?’

Carter swung a punch into Duncan’s gut, knocking him back into the mesh and winding him. Quicker than Duncan could react, Carter was on top of him, the metal of the cage pressed against his spine. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, Duncan lashed up with his knee, catching Carter in the groin, and then kicked one of the man’s feet out from under him. They went down to the floor together, locked and lashing, rolling over the wooden planking while the other prisoners made room, yelling and hollering. Duncan could hear Willow and Adella screaming at them, the house slave James calling a warning too, squawking through the mesh. There was even a gask among the crowd of slaves, shouting, ‘Peace! Peace!’
Only peace that leatherneck is getting is a piece of Carter Carnehan
.

None of it mattered. Duncan could taste blood and salt in his mouth, his lip cut and swelling, and all he could think of was how good it was to have Carter Carnehan on the floor, Duncan’s fist driving repeatedly into his face until he wasn’t able to curse or mock him anymore. They rolled across the cage, punching, kicking and jabbing at each other, wild and looking to maim, struggling for purchase. Duncan so enraged that he hardly felt the burning impact of the first blow from a slaver’s electrical prod, the second and third strikes just enough to separate them, the next few lashes swelling with the agony of an amputation as he tumbled away from Carter. By the time it dawned on Duncan that this fracas wasn’t the best way he could have greeted the arrogant knucklehead, both men were hanging in the guards’ reptilian arms. Sparking truncheons had temporarily numbed all animosity the pair felt towards each other.

Si-lishh marched down the stairs onto the gangway between the pens, the slave master’s thick green tail swinging irritably behind him. His voice was an irascible, sibilant hiss as he stopped in front of the two Northhaven men being dragged from the cage. ‘Does Si-lishh not feed slaves enough? Is something special about this cargo, that Weylanders must always drag Si-lishh away from meals?’ His tail swished around and jabbed Carter’s chest. ‘Second offence for this slave, Si-lishh thinks. Not learn before? Well, Weylanders selected for size and age, not brains.’

Held firm by the pair of guards, Carter’s contemptuous gaze tilted up towards the slave master. ‘When you visit a zoo, Si-lishh, you must buy two tickets. One to get in, one to make sure they let you out again.’

The slave master struck Carter across the face, audibly cracking something in the man’s jaw. ‘Not take you as slave for the making of insolence. Throw these two Weylanders in same punishment cell. Set hatch opening for five minutes.’ Si-lishh kicked Carter in the ribs as the arrogant delinquent was dragged past. ‘Si-lishh would make time longer and see how many more jokes boy can think up, but Si-lishh still hungry.’

Carter’s face drew into the sneer that he did so well. ‘Why, are you eating your mother’s kin out there, you alligator-faced bastard?’

Duncan groaned. The dolt was actually making things worse, if that was possible.
Don’t think an apology is going to cut it now, though.

Willow banged her fist on the other side of the cage, running alongside the mesh as the guards dragged Duncan and Carter towards the punishment cages’ transparent walls. ‘Let them go! That man’s father is the richest man in Northhaven. He’ll pay for these two to be ransomed. Gold, silver, any trading metal you want!’ Duncan gazed at his sister’s panicked face, his anger completely evaporated now, its place taken by a fear almost as strong. Just the thought of being dropped out of the aircraft – the skels’ mocking version of walking the plank – was enough to turn his legs to jelly.
Who’s going to keep Willow and Adella safe when I’m a shattered mess on the ground below
?

The slave master laughed as he strode after the two prisoners. ‘When skels need wealth from Weylanders, skels steal it on next raid.’

‘Please,’ Adella begged, ‘don’t do this.’ She was left clinging to the mesh, her face as white as baking powder. ‘Don’t leave me here alone!’

Beaten close to semi-consciousness, Duncan didn’t even have the wherewithal to wonder which of the two men Adella had been shouting at. He struggled futilely in the hands of the two muscular slavers grasping him. ‘I didn’t start the fight. He came at
me
!’ The guards tossed him into the punishment cell, before manhandling Carter inside.

Standing in the corridor, the slave master glared at Duncan through the wall. ‘Si-lishh sees why you want to kill other boy. Kill rival before hatch drops and Si-lishh will open punishment cell door for you. Kill boy quickly, or two bodies drop into sky.’

Duncan balked as he realised what was being asked of him. Kill Carter? He had burned to a minute ago. But like this, for the slavers’ amusement?
Even if it means you’ll live to look after Adella and Willow
, a sly voice whispered inside him.
He deserves to die, doesn’t he
?
Before he gets any more good people killed.

‘Willow and your father can’t buy you out of this one,’ said Carter, getting to his feet from the corner of the punishment cell where he’d been tossed. Duncan stood up as the door sealed behind them both. A violent clacking sounded from the wall’s timer as the guards set it.

‘Maybe five minutes,’ laughed Si-lishh. ‘Maybe one, if slaves unlucky.’

Carter steadied against the wall. ‘You might as well come for me, unless you think you can fly.’

‘I’ll gut you for the way you treat Adella. Damned if I’ll do it for the amusement of a slaver.’

‘Then you’re going to get what you got coming before you die.’ Carter lowered his head and charged Duncan, smashing him back into the wall and unbalancing both of them. Duncan chopped at the man’s neck on the way down, an arc of pain along his body as he struck the floor hatch, the bruises left by the slavers’ cattle rods lighting up in agony.

Carter laughed at Duncan as they briefly separated, both rolling over on the hatch, staggering back to their feet at the same time. ‘Let’s show everyone what the heir of Hawkland Park is good for, with only his daddy’s fancy clothes just rags on his back.’

You low bastard
. Howling a roar of rage, Duncan headbutted Carter in the face, sending him rolling to the side. He followed up and elbowed Carter in the stomach, leaving him sucking for breath as he closed his fingers around the man’s neck, his fingers tightening. Carter’s hands struggled to find the purchase necessary to break Duncan’s hold as he was pushed down towards the hatch doors.

‘Two minutes left,’ Si-lishh called from outside the punishment cell. ‘Kill boy faster!’

Duncan barely even heard the slave master’s spitting laughter, lost in his fury and the quickening of his blood.

Arcadia was as impressive as Jacob had imagined it from all the newspaper illustrations. Having flown all night and landed with sun­rise, there could be no more impressive view of Arcadia than the one afforded to Jacob as the Rodalian squadron corkscrewed towards a landing on one of the roads outside the capital’s margins. The constant howl of the wind along the aircraft’s wings dwindled as they dipped lower. Sheplar had been flying at altitude, riding furious tailwinds to arrive here as fast as they had, aerial currents as strong as tornadoes, catching the Rodalian kites and making flying arrows of the squadron. Now they were descending into silence as the ground magnified below them. Jacob slipped off his breathing apparatus, enjoying the smell of fresh clean air free of the mask’s leather and rubber. His face had been left red-raw where the straps had chafed for so long. Below, the capital’s harbour lay spread out in a crescent, the bay filled with hundreds of ships and sails, water sparkling with the first orange glint of the sun creeping upwards. At this height, the city’s streets resembled the exposed mechanism of a clock, a single vast dial with concentric circles of sea-fed canals tightening to a bull’s-eye in the centre. The bull’s-eye’s centre was a verdant green, the gardens of the royal palace backing on to parade grounds and white stone buildings of the king’s residence. To the southeast, a pair of steep hills rose next to each other, breaking up an otherwise flat landscape. Jacob spotted the pale marble outline of what must be the People’s Assembly on top of the closest hill. Every prefecture of Weyland represented under its vaulted domes, and one of those seats occupied by the man that Benner Landor had helped to office. Charles T. Gimlette’s pockets stuffed with Landor money and a ballot box filled with the votes of all the citizens who owed Benner their living. But now Charles T. Gimlette wasn’t just Landor’s man. He was Jacob’s. The second hill had a smaller construction at its apex – an older structure, although no doubt still equally impressive when you were standing in its shadow rather than skimming over it upon high. Arcadia Cathedral, home to the archbishops of the Synod. Jacob doubted the church council could even find Northhaven on a map, but as long as they never troubled him, he always tried to return the courtesy. Maybe now there was a new cathedral and a vacant seat for one of their cronies going begging in Northhaven, that was about to change.
No matter. I’ll be hundreds of thousands of miles away by the time those politics are played out.