Firemoon (15 page)

“And have you heard anything on whether that is a realistic deadline?” Katja asked.

“The captain has sent out a chain of riders whose instructions are to scout for the army’s movements and carry messages back. We ought to know for sure tomorrow.”

“So then we will know whether they got through the border fort,” Katja said, and looked at a wall. She suspected this army the Brotherhood had stolen had not met with much difficulty, unless Serdra had made it there in time and managed to influence things somehow.

“Katja,” Linda said and looked at her. “What can we expect? What do you think the Brotherhood will do once they reach the walls?”

Katja sighed.

“I cannot answer that with any certainty,” she admitted. “There are tales of how the Brotherhood of the Pit used to employ their sorcery in battle, but these are different times and we do not fully know what the Dragon is capable of. Aside from the fact that this army doesn’t truly belong to them and we don’t know how strong Peter’s control is.”

She was silent for a little while and looked at the couple. She did not like what she had to say next.

“I am greatly concerned they will employ the devastation spells I have seen in my brief career. I am, for instance, terrified to think what the plague spell I saw this spring will do if directed into a city. And Jormundur’s warriors are preparing to fight men, not demons. I do not know how their nerves will hold up when a living nightmare suddenly rushes at them.”

“On the other hand I must believe that, much like Valdimar, Peter Savaren does not wish to rule over a smoking ruin or a mass grave. This is not a raid. He wishes to establish his own realm, as they always have done. So...” She wrung her hands, “rationally he ought to hold back the very worst spells. I do not believe he will send a mass of demons over the wall. But to send a few up
on
the wall, that is a different matter.”

“Then you must be there,” Linda said with calm surety, and gazed into her eyes. “You are the only person in this city with experience of battling sorcery and monsters.”

“Yes,” Katja said. She could not argue with that simple fact. “But how?” She looked at Brjann. “Do you think anyone will protest if I go up on the wall with the militia?”

“If you do not disrupt a shield wall or get in the way, I can’t see that happening. Jormundur has been loud about the need for everyone to do their part.”

“I still feel... that I cannot just walk up to him and claim to be sent by higher powers to save the city. If the Brotherhood has agents in the city, doing so would put both myself and the two of you in too much danger.”

The young Shades took this in with appropriate seriousness.

“And besides, how well are the old times known here? Back in Baldur’s Coast I had never heard of Redcloaks, at least not by that name.”

The couple looked at one another to determine which one should answer that. Brjann accepted the task.

“Eh, they are known to at least
some
degree. The whole truth of your people has not endured well, but most have heard at least something relating to you. The horror of Gronovin is still remembered, and most tales of the Death Lords include the fact that ordinary folk could not harm them.”

“A shame people do not think more of those monsters these days,” Katja said wearily.

“True, true, but it is the same with them as with you,” Brjann said. “You have been in hiding for several lifetimes. As I understand it, there are occasional stories of demonic incidents and mysterious wanderers who sort them out, but no more than that.”

“Indeed,” Katja said and clasped her hands. Just what was she to do? “If only a demon attacked the captain and I were around to cut its head off at the last moment. That would presumably earn his trust.”

“That would probably be too convenient,” Linda said.

Katja laughed.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “But yes, I will have to... see how things develop. Perhaps I will just have to be at the front when Peter’s sorcery hits, and try to bat it aside.”

Again she saw fear in Linda, but knew that this time it was for her own sake. The young woman’s fingers didn’t lose their rhythm though, and the calm tones continued.

She thought about what the big, bearded Brotherhood-man had said. She hadn’t forgotten that Vajan had ambushed her on the route he had pointed out to her, but why would he have made up what he told her about Peter Savaren?

Impatient, much like his father. Tovar Savaren could have won if he had put his scheme on hold and strengthened his defences when he knew enemies were coming his way. But since his plans were on the verge of becoming reality, he hurriedly pushed everything into action, and paid for it with his life.

If Peter had the same mentality and the defences held out, if the fight dragged on and his goal was continually kept just out of reach, how far would he go to get what he wanted and get it
now
?

“It really does seem,” she said after a silence, “that Duke Kjalar is our best hope. We will just have to hold out until he arrives.”

“Yes. If the northern army gets caught between the wall and Kjalar’s army this war will be won.”

“Indeed,” Katja said, but thought to herself that just then Peter might resort to extreme measures. Victory might prove terribly costly. “Between the hammer and the anvil.”

“So this is the situation,” Linda said. “You will place yourself upon the wall and be ready to react to the Brotherhood’s tricks, and circumstances will decide what comes after that. I myself will be among the city folk and feel out the atmosphere and news.”

“And I will...” Brjann cleared his throat. “I will keep my ears open at the wall and try to pick up what Jormundur and his advisers are thinking.”

“It would probably also be good,” Katja said slowly, unsure if this was a good idea, “if you stayed alert to Jormundur’s goings. I should perhaps be endeavouring to speak with him in private.”

“A foreigner trying to sneak up on one of the city’s most important men... that can easily be misinterpreted.”

“True,” Katja said. ”But there is probably no harm in at least watching out for the opportunity.”

The couple nodded and so all was said for now. Linda switched to tones Katja knew from evenings on Maron’s homestead. The young woman looked at her with anticipation in her eyes.

Katja hesitated a moment but decided that her friend was right. Worry could be pushed into the background for the moment, while such indulgence was still possible.

Katja cleared her throat and began to sing along with the harp-playing. The lyrics were simple, and told the story of a sparrow’s journey around a forest and all that was to be seen in the realm of birds. Katja’s clear voice and Linda’s nimble fingers did rather elevate the song though, and Brjann participated by turning his mug around and drumming on it with his fingertips.

They took turns picking songs, just as they had before Linda moved, and as the music carried them into its own sweet world, Katja actually managed to forget what awaited them for a moment.

Finally bedtime came, and Katja remembered how weary she was after the journey. They said good night and she lay down in the guest bed with her weapons within reach.

Again she dreamt of fire.

--------------------

They ate breakfast together but then Brjann had to hurry to the wall.

Katja limbered up and swung her weapons around, and Linda cleaned the kitchen. The plan was for Linda to be out among what acquaintances she had in the city and for Katja to familiarize herself with the situation by the wall, but before they made it out of the house they began to hear a handbell.

“A meeting on Lily Square!” said the crier as he walked down the street. “All citizens are called to a meeting on Lily Square! News from the north!”

He continued ringing and repeating the message as he progressed, and as Katja stepped outside she heard his colleague in the distance.

“This ought to be something interesting,” she muttered to Linda, and put her hood up as they walked side-by-side to the square.

The atmosphere was tense. People conversed in small groups, creating an incomprehensible din. Not that Katja needed to make out words to understand the general mood. The voices were like the faces; passionate and nervous.

In the middle of the square stood a stone platform and, after the two of them found a decent spot in the crowd and waited for a bit, soldiers appeared and cleared a way through to it.

Up onto the platform stepped a well-dressed middle-aged man with grey hair and a haggard face, leaning on a cane. He tried to carry himself well but it was clear to all how much care he had to put in each movement, and how much weight he put on the cane as he positioned himself on the middle of the platform. Next came a black-haired, broad-shouldered man in his thirties, who wore armour, had a sword sheathed at his hip and a helmet under his arm. He took up position next to Hrolfur.

“That’s Jormundur,” Linda said.

Chancellor Hrolfur raised his hand to call for silence and the nervous conversations died down little by little. Finally the man spoke.

“Fellow citizens, neighbours and friends, I have news,” he said. The voice was stronger than the body, which impressed Katja. “Tonight the northern army camped by Spirit Rock.”

The din started up again as people took this in, but Hrolfur raised his hand again.

“That is about two days away!” Linda said quietly before the crowd fell silent.

“It is true this means we have lost the border fort,” the sick man continued, “but many of our kinfolk are probably prisoners at this moment so their release can be negotiated, once all this is over with. As for ourselves, we are in a much better position than the fort was. We have a harbour, and the northerners have no fleet, so Valdimar will not soon starve us. And if he makes the mistake of attacking, he will know how much love of liberty is stronger than greed. For it is mere greed that drives these men to our gates like common thieves!”

The crowd was pleased with these words.

“Our walls are strong and the people are stronger. Now we will show how Pine City earned independence and kept it. Now each will support their neighbour and become a rock in a wall no war machine can break down. And so I say to you, neighbours, friends and relatives, invite refugees to your homes, feed them and remind one another what is at stake here!”

The people shouted in agreement and Katja couldn’t help but feel a certain shiver at standing in the defiant crowd.

“Now we have two or three days to strengthen our defences even further. We will work hard at it, every single one of us, in ways large and small. Do not despair! For the greed of the northerners will bleed out of them on our walls, until they limp back to their master to tell him what it costs to attack one’s betters!”

The local pride broke out in deafening shouts as Hrolfur limped down off the platform.

“Fire!”

Katja looked for the origin of the word and began hearing it on other lips.

“Fire!”

“There!” someone shouted and pointed.

Katja looked and saw smoke rise to the sky. It seemed to originate in the outer city.

“Firefighting, firefighting, firefighting!” several hundred people shouted in unison and the crowd began to scatter out of the square. Many headed straight to the inner gate and Katja decided not to fight the flow. She wanted to see this anyway.

She was already seeing buckets in people’s hands before the gate bottlenecked the people and greatly slow them down. But eventually she made it into Pine City’s outer district and the fire turned out to be in a large storehouse. The flames flirted with two nearby houses but blessedly had made it no further than that.

Loosely organized bucket brigades were already in action, and Katja just shoved herself into one and began to receive buckets full of water one way and empty ones the other.

As more people arrived and the shouted orders became more orderly, lines solely dedicated to passing on the empty buckets were formed, hurrying the process. It did not suffice to save the storehouse. It had been doomed before the first splash hit. But with great effort they prevented the fire from spreading.

Eventually the fire became embers, and Katja and clearly many others felt it safe to abandon the scene while others killed the final sparks.

From what she heard this had been Pine City’s main lumber store, from where the workers tending the defences had gotten their materials. The source of the fire was evidently not clear yet.

What were the odds that such a place burnt down by
accident
just as it was most needed? Katja mulled that question over as she strolled around the outer city, away from the chaos, and rubbed a weary shoulder blade.

Almost zero, surely.

10.

Katja let some time pass without getting anywhere near the ruins. Instead she made an effort to familiarize herself with the outer city and circumstances by the wall, where the fighting would take place.

The soldiers had of course participated in the firefighting and it took some time for all of them to return, which probably made her more noticeable than she would have been otherwise. Katja did her best to appear casual, asking people standing by finished and half-finished war machines what the news was, and whether they knew anything about the fire.

Many were rather too wound up or busy for conversation, but the word “sabotage” naturally came up a few times.

No-one objected as she walked the steps up on the wall. She wanted to get a better look at the field where the northern army would appear, and stared out of the city.

There they will be. In two days that empty area will be packed with people.

There was a large open space in front of the city. All of the trees had been brought down long ago, after all, and the landscape itself was flat. The little village they would presumably camp in and around wasn’t that far away and the army would be quite visible. This would make for some display.

A soldier of about fifty years was patrolling the wall and greeted her. Katja had seen him before and returned the greeting, and indulged his obvious desire for chat. She steered the conversation towards what was coming, and tried to seem frightened as she asked him whether anything was known about the force Valdimar had dispatched.

The soldier enlightened her a bit about the northern way of war. The ghost battalion was one of the first things he mentioned. Apparently the northerners had a habit of assembling a battalion of criminals, debtors and desperate beggars, and sending them ahead of the regular troops to test the enemy and clear the way. If one of these poor wretches survived for long enough, their crimes or debts would be forgiven. The battle would probably begin with such men.

Katja couldn’t deny that there was a certain cruel efficiency to this tactic.

Aside from that, he mostly spoke of things everyone knew, that siege warfare was a well-honed craft in the Stonefoot lands, and asked whether she intended to fight with the militia. She touched her sword and assured him that she would. Then she made herself scarce before anyone started suspecting her of spying.

Once she felt enough time had gone by and the crowd by the storehouse had mostly dispersed, she strolled back in its general direction. She preferred not to be seen by the ruin. She walked around the main thoroughfares and came up behind the remains of the storehouse.

There was a risk to this. She might say something out loud without knowing she was doing it and reveal herself. And she was loathe to disconnect her senses from the present in a place where anyone could walk up to her. But this was her situation, and with the northern army almost on the horizon she could not afford needless delays. She had to look.

Katja closed her eyes and emptied her mind. This event had not involved a death, but was very recent and powerful. Seeing it was easy.

The man had a brazier. He was thin, of average height, with a large nose, a moustache and short blond hair, and wore dark woollen clothing. He splashed tar on one of the walls, lit it, and one simple spell intensified the fire with dramatic speed. Then he fled.

--------------------

“I can’t place him,” Linda said, and the sentence seemed to have a foul taste. Her friend was not pleased with this confirmation that the Brotherhood had placed an agent within the wall.

They were sitting at the table in the couple’s home.

“But we must do something with this information,” Katja said, and stroked the wood grain with her fingertips. She herself wasn’t feeling too good. “I cannot let myself just sit on this and risk the man causing further disaster.”

“But what will happen if you step forth publicly?” Linda said. “There may very well be others in the city.”

“And if Jormundur and Hrolfur don’t listen to me, if I can get at them at all, I will put us all at risk with nothing to show for it.”

Katja picked at the grain. She had to do something. But
what
?

Linda clasped her hands.

“I do not envy you,” she said. Katja was unaccustomed to pity but appreciated the thought behind it.

She relax a bit, closed her eyes and let her mind work by itself for a little while.

“A rumour,” she then, holding Linda’s gaze. “A rumour that the man I saw was seen setting the fire. That might help. It would at least make things difficult for him.”

Linda livened up at a possible solution.

“I can do that!” she said and stood up. “I can get a rumour started without it drawing attention. A whisper here, a whisper there and the story will be all over by evening.”

“Just be careful,” Katja said, and stood up too.

“Yes, I know.”

Brjann entered.

“Well, this wasn’t good,” he sighed.

“It was arson,” Linda said right away. “Katja saw it in a vision.”

They elaborated, and Brjann described how the fire would affect the defences. A significant number of catapults and other devices had already been built, but now there was little to use for repairs. There was talk of tearing wood out of houses to keep at the ready.

Brjann too did not recognize Katja’s description of the arsonist but agreed with the rumour idea. He would reach no few ears in his work at the wall. Labourers chatted ceaselessly as they worked, and soldiers were quite similar.

Katja would well imagine that nerves were highly strained, and that people would distract themselves with chat.

“That was a pretty good speech old Hrolfur made,” Brjann said as he crammed down the food Linda had hurriedly prepared for them.

“Yes, a regular Speech of the Pillars,” his wife replied.

Katja nodded and looked at the wall. The original Speech had been made a millennium ago by the Lady herself, Jukiala, on natural rock pillars that had served as a stage. The incident had essentially marked the start of the nation that later came to share the woman’s name, and had long since become legend. Katja had heard different versions of just what she had said but the main theme was always unity, and that in light of the supernatural horrors of the Shattering mankind had to embrace its best and noblest qualities.

“A shame the counterpoint was so swift,” Katja said out loud.

“Yes,” Brjann said, and rubbed his face. “The bastard certainly picked a good moment.”

They all rose and got ready to leave, but Linda said she had forgotten one thing earlier.

“Here,” she said, taking an unstrung bow down off the wall. Katja recognized it from Maron’s homestead. “I can use it, but it will probably do more good in your hands.”

Linda handed her the bow.

“Do you have any other weapons?” Katja asked, feeling hesitant to accept something her friend could defend herself with.

“We have a spear and an axe,” Brjann said, and he too seemed ambivalent about the gift.

“Katja,” Linda said, staring into her eyes. “I feel I will be safest if you are as well-equipped as possible.”

Katja reluctantly took the weapon. Linda also gave her two backup strings and a quiver.

“Whole barrels of arrows are at the ready by the wall,” Brjann said hesitantly. “So if you position yourself with the militia you should have plenty of ammunition.”

“That is not a bad idea,” Katja said, and stroked the wood in search of flaws. “That way I can be up on the wall, ready to react to whatever Peter Savaren means to employ against us.”

“And you are a good shot,” Linda said.

“Well, I am a decent one.”

Katja placed the bow, the strings and the arrows on a small table. She would not be carrying all of it until the battle.

“Well, let us gossip,” she then said.

--------------------

Katja did not know what to do with herself for the rest of the day. She continued to get to know the city, practised a bit in the house and tried to do her part in getting the story of the arsonist going. Taverns and the crush by the harbour were probably the best soil for planting those seeds, and towards the end of the day the story seemed to be gaining some traction.

She just hoped it would not bring accusations down on someone who just had the poor luck of sharing the saboteur’s general appearance.

Katja also tried keeping her ears open regarding Captain Jormundur’s comings and goings, but to little success. It seemed the man was usually busy overseeing preparations by the wall and spent little time out of the public eye, where Katja might be able to speak with him in private.

That finally changed when Brjann returned. It was getting dark and Linda had come home some time before and prepared dinner, as Katja sat still and tried to figure out what she was to do.

“Jormundur is on the move,” Brjann said, rather short of breath. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees and looked at Katja. “He went to see the state of things by the harbour with two of his men. You could perhaps meet him.”

Katja hesitated a moment, before springing from her seat. Finally she could do something,
try
something, no matter how risky it might be.

“Be careful!” Linda said as she ran to the door and stepped out into the cool evening air.

It wasn’t entirely dark yet, but close enough. Katja put her hood up and knew it cast her face into total darkness.

One of the things Serdra had taught her about stealth in a city was that rushing about drew attention, and after the fire guards had become more visible in the streets. Still, Katja had to seize this opportunity while it lasted and made use of the side passages, running along them out of sight. She now knew Pine City well enough to make only one real mistake, but after squinting and spotting a certain familiar tower she got back on track and made it to the harbour without some guardsman asking her business.

Being here in the dark was rather odd. Though a few lights burned here and there, the tent city consisted mostly of shadows, and her ears were more informative than her eyes. She had seen the area in the light but the dark served to underline the state of things. Children cried, and with the area generally quieter it was easier to hear the tension and worry in the voices still speaking.

Some were still outside, mostly just conversing in groups with drinks in hand. Katja walked along the straight route through the camp at her regular walking pace and looked about. She had neglected to ask just
what
the captain had meant to investigate. Was it the refugees, the defences, or something else?

She tried to be alert to the sound of armour and looked at every group in the hope that perhaps he was mingling with the refugees. When she was nearing the end of the camp she settled for just going up to a man and asking whether it was true that the captain had been seen about. He replied he had heard something of the sort and then continued speaking with his neighbours.

“What? Is he here in the camp?” she asked, and tried to sound excited over seeing a man of import.

“Somewhere over there!” the man answered, tired and drunk. He pointed to the north-east.

Katja hurried out of the camp. The area the man had indicated was between the harbour and the defensive wall and relatively small. If the captain was talking to his men on the wall or by the sea there was only one route he was likely to use on his way back. Assuming he didn’t just make use of the walkway.

There was still a bit of traffic, mostly to and from the camp, but not enough for her to vanish into. Katja made a decision and leaned up against a pillar and sat down. Here she would be all but invisible to bypassers unless they were heading into the camp, but would have a good view herself.

Should I have done this already?
she thought.
Will the delay have consequences? Cost lives?

There was little to do by the pillar besides tensing and relaxing her muscles so as not to stiffen up too much. She went over what she could say, what would do the most good with the least risk, and came up with and rejected one approach after another.

She heard the footsteps of several men, and soft rattling of mail and weapons. This might be another patrol, but she was both glad and nervous to see that this was indeed Jormundur and two other men. It was time.

She rose carefully as they had passed her and followed them. She recalled evenings in Amerstan City with Serdra, and stayed just far enough away from the trio to not lose them as they left the half-sleeping harbour district and entered the dark, silent guts of the old city.

She minimized the time she spent in their direct line of sight and trusted in her ears and knowledge of the city’s main streets. Normally she tried to keep one corner between them and herself, and when they walked into long streets where there was risk of losing them she darted forth at a quiet run and hid behind whatever was available. At one point they met a patrol that saluted the captain. He asked them the news but the conversation wasn’t very loud and Katja picked up little of it. Nothing dreadful seemed to be going on, at any rate.