Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane (43 page)

BOOK: Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane
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She paused. ‘Except … it wasn’t the king whose idea it was to order them into their final battle. He always kept them close; they were his most loyal legion—King Aldenute and General Truebolt were lifelong friends; cousins, I think. Most of the legion were family, a close-knit fighting group. It was Feron Firehand, the king’s advisor, who in his own words
sent the legion away
. It was
his
idea that they should sneak out of the city through the tunnels to launch a surprise attack on the monsters’ rearguard. Well … it looks like they never made it. Firehand must have ambushed them here.’

The ghost clenched its gauntleted fists, as if in anger at being subjected to this tragic tale.

‘I got all that from Firehand’s journals,’ Kal continued, ‘but I didn’t make the connection with you, though, until this morning. That was when I remembered something. In the court house, just before the trial, I noticed that General Truebolt’s coat of arms—the five skulls—looked familiar. And you yourself told me that your family had a military history.’

Kal looked straight at the ghost. ‘You also said that you changed your name. Well, I guess that it isn’t much of a leap from
Truebolt
to
Straightarrow
, is it, Will?’

The ghost sagged visibly before her. Kal, reliving the moment from her dream, reached out with both hands and lifted the helmet. It was surprisingly light, and she guessed the whole harness was probably costume armour. No wonder the ghost had been able to move and fight so fast.

Will looked sad-eyed and defeated, as if all he ever cared about had been keeping his secret from Kal. ‘Why, Will?’ she asked him. ‘Why did you take it on yourself to avenge such an ancient wrong?’

‘There was nobody else who could have, until me,’ Will said, finding his passion again as he explained himself. ‘The few surviving Truebolts have lived in fear for centuries, timid and downtrodden, afraid to speak for fear of reprisal. Only I had the guts, the skills and the imagination to bring this fight back to the Firehands. I was already a successful thief, handing out my money to those who needed it, when I discovered the key to this cave. It was the final proof of what we had long suspected: General Truebolt’s gaming dice, perversely twisted by Firehand into a grotesque memento of his murder. I found it at the bottom of an old chest of junk belonging to Felix Firehand’s father. It was the spur I needed to act. My gang—they are Truebolts too—believe in the cause, but without me they’d get nowhere. They need me to inspire them.’

Of course
, Kal thought, Will’s gang would have helped him carry out the ghost’s intricate stunts. Were they disguised as waiters at Ben’s party, ready to hand Will the burning brand at the opportune moment? Were they standing by with the armour at the Bower, waiting for Will to get a chance to get close to Witchwood? And after hearing about the explosives, Will could have ordered his gang to target Ben’s mansion, too, while he rushed here to intercept Kal.

‘But why go after Firehand’s descendants in this awful way?’ Kal asked. ‘Just revealing the truth would have been enough to discredit him. They’d tear down his statue in the Forum in an instant, and put up a memorial to General Truebolt in its place!’

Will shook his head dismissively. ‘And what would change, Kal? Nothing. Felix would have still been a fanatic. Witchwood’s crime empire would have continued to expand. The Firehand family would still infest the Senate. Feron Firehand’s legacy would have lived on. It’s bad blood, Kal, and it needed to be bled out. Firehand murdered a thousand of my family. By comparison, I’ve been quite restrained. Hopefully, my actions will scare off a whole generation of corrupt politicians.’

Kal was shocked. ‘
Bad blood?
Surely you can’t believe that!’

‘You know what I mean. The Senate was an incestuous, corrupt mess. Privilege, money and cronyism dictated every law that was passed. At least now, Ganzief Greatbear has the chance, as consul, to change things.’

Kal’s eyes widened. ‘You’re doing this for Greatbear?’

‘Yes. He doesn’t know though.’ Will laughed. ‘Greatbear is the only good man in a city filled with scoundrels. He’s popular too, but the way the elections are weighted, he never would have secured enough support to become consul without my help. Someone had to get their hands dirty for the good of this city. The Truebolts have always been gamblers—why else would they have gone along with Firehand’s crazy plan—and I’m no different. I’m risking it all for the city I love.’

Kal was silent for a moment as a wave of sadness passed over her. ‘I could almost have sympathised with you, Will,’ she said, ‘had you not gone after Ben, too. The Truebolts were loyal to the Godswords five hundred years ago. You should have gone to Ben when you discovered the key. He could have helped you.
We
could have helped you, Will!’

‘No,’ Will said. ‘Just because I’m a Truebolt doesn’t mean I show blind allegiance to royalty or divine blood. Ben Godsword has potential to be the worst of them all. He believes his family name gives him some god-given right to rule over us, and he has the money to do whatever he like. And of course … you know that Feron Firehand kept the King’s daughter captive for months after the revolution, before she eventually escaped. You know what he was like … it’s more than likely that Ben has some Firehand blood in him himself!’

Kal had heard enough. She pulled her dagger out of her boot. ‘You can tell that story in court, then, and see if a jury agree with you.’

Will didn’t flinch. ‘I’m not going to fight you, Kal,’ he said. He drew his sword and tossed it away into the pit. It vanished amongst the bones below. ‘See? I’d never hurt you.’

‘Then give yourself up,’ Kal said, ‘and we won’t have to fight. I’m taking you in to face justice, Will.’

‘No, Kal,’ he said firmly. ‘There’s only one way we’re leaving this cave, and that’s together, both of us free. We can start a new life. All this is over now—my work is done. There will be no more ghost, no more King of Thieves. And no more Dragon Killer either. We can walk out into a new future—a fair and just world where we can be simply Will and Kal. Don’t you see, Kal, we could have it all! I love you.’

Kal was blinded by a sudden rush of tears. She waved her dagger clumsily at Will. He caught her wrist in his left hand.

‘Don’t,’ he said. Even Will’s left arm was stronger than Kal’s right, and he could have turned the dagger on her in an instant. Instead he applied just enough pressure to keep Kal’s hand still.

It was his only weakness, she knew. He
did
love her, and thought that he could both get away with his crimes
and
be with her forever. Well, maybe there was a way that they could both get out of this free, for she knew that bringing Will to face justice would be to condemn him to torture and execution.

The dagger was still caught between them. Kal relaxed the pressure in her right arm. Will instinctively and unconsciously drove the dagger downwards, and the blade slid six inches into Kal’s gut. She groaned in pain.

‘Kal!’ Will gasped, letting go of the dagger in shock. ‘I’m sorry!’

‘Don’t be,’ she said, grasping the dagger handle and pulling it out of her flesh. ‘Because I’m not.’ She turned the dagger in an instant and drove the deadly point straight through Will’s flimsy armour and into his heart.

‘It’s true what they say,’ she spoke softly in his ear as she held him. ‘You always hurt the ones you love.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

V.vi

 

Under the Bridge

 

 

 

I pointed, and Ben stared and shrugged. ‘What am I looking at?’ he asked.

‘Look closer,’ I said. ‘You walk past it every day.’ Ben would have to cross the bridge on his way to the Forum; he was a regular visitor to the libraries and record offices, and he liked to haunt the public galleries of the Senate House and court rooms, too; all to gain vital preparation for his dream of one day becoming a senator himself.

‘The big boat-shaped block?’

I laughed. The bridge was supported by a pair of massive bulwarks known as
starkwaters
; they looked like the hulls of stationary stone ships, with pointed, steel-bound prows facing upstream to break up the winter ice A short, square three-storey tower rose out of each bulwark. One was used by the Senate Guard as a watch tower; the other was abandoned.

Thousands of people passed through the archway under the second tower every day; few stopped to wonder what was behind the small rusted iron door. It was five-foot high and recessed in the stonework, and there was no lock. Ben tried kicking it, but only ended up stubbing his toe. ‘Are you sure about this, Kal?’ he muttered. ‘Could a king’s hidden treasure really remain undiscovered behind such an obvious door for centuries?’

I shrugged. ‘There’s no reason for anyone to want to go in there. The tower is just an empty shell.’

‘Perhaps. We need to get back to the the World, wake up Colm and get him to bring his tools down here.’

‘Not a good idea,’ I said, glancing over at the opposite tower, where a light flickered in the darkness. ‘There’s always a guard watching up there. Follow me around here though!’

Once out of sight around the corner, we leaned over the wall and stared down across the water. The river was so dark it may as well have been invisible, but a cold chill and a steady sloshing sound gave its presence away.

‘Can you see that? Just there, above the water level …’

‘A window! We need to get back to the World, wake up Colm and get him to bring—’

I patted my leather shoulder bag. ‘Already sorted,’ I said, taking out a spool of thin hemp rope. ‘Here, tie this around your waist … like this … Alright, if anyone comes, just pretend to be leaning against the wall!’

I abseiled down the bulwark with no gloves, no rappel and no secure anchor; it was the most dangerous thing I had ever done, but I didn’t know any better in those days. The window was a narrow lancet: barely two feet high and a foot across. I kicked out what lead and glass remained, and swung my legs in so that I was sitting on the sill. I had a torch and tinder box in my bag, and when I fixed up some light I could see why the treasure might have remained undiscovered for so long.

Inside the tower, the wooden internal structure had long since rotted and fallen away. Instead of a floor, the bottom of the starkwater was a still pool of water.

‘What can you see?’ Ben called down.

‘Not much,’ I answered back. ‘Wait there, I’m going in!’ I jammed the torch into a crack in the stonework, steeled myself for the cold, then slipped through the window and into the water.

The pool was an oval, twenty yards across at the widest point. The water was black, dirty and freezing cold, and my feet couldn’t find the bottom. This would be a hopeless search. But then I had a thought: if you were going to hide something in the foundations of a tower, an alcove in the stonework would be a good spot. I drifted clockwise around the pool, kicking out at the giant concrete blocks that made up the starkwater.

When I was about halfway around, my feet found an opening.

I tried to feel around with the toe of my boot: the hole was about two feet square, and went back further than my legs could reach. There was only one thing for it: I secured my fingers as best as I could into the crumbling mortar between the breeze blocks, and plunged beneath the water, stretching my body out as far as possible into the void. About five feet in, I felt my toes break the water’s surface.

There was another chamber through there!

Oh hell, there was no turning back now. I took a deep breath and entered the tunnel head first. It was harder than I thought it would be, and I suffered a brief moment of panic when I lost all sense of direction in the darkness. But eventually, my flailing hands found the surface, and I managed to sit up at the end of the tunnel, my head, shoulders and elbows breaking into the secret chamber.

The darkness was complete. Even a starless night in the forest wasn’t as black as this. The strange pressure in the air pocket played tricks with my ears and my brain. I wasn’t thinking straight as I grasped around with my hands. But luckily, I found something almost straight away …

A small metal case!

 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, I was sat on a rug in the hearth of a big blazing fire, drying off. We had ducked into the first tavern we could find on the Kingsway, on the lower slopes of Arcus Hill: a rowdy watering hole filled with students from the nearby university. Nobody paid us much attention. I could have passed for a student myself, fresh from some riverside lark gone wrong, and Ben was the epitome of a dishevelled postgraduate.

Ben turned the case over and over in his hands. ‘It’s small,’ he remarked.

‘Maybe the king just left you Banos’s knuckle bone,’ I teased, ‘and one gold crown: all that’s left of the family fortune!’

He scowled, and examined the case close up. I leaned in to see. There was some kind of keyhole: a narrow slit, two inches long. Ben set the case on his knees, picked up his mug, and took a long draft. He swished the ale around in his mouth while contemplating the case.

I was impatient. ‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’

Ben looked puzzled. ‘I need a key, Kal!’

‘Oh give it here,’ I said. ‘And your sword too.’

‘My sword?’ Ben said, but handed it over in the face of my flat stare. He carried the Blade of Banos everywhere he went; it was probably a more valuable asset than the property on Swan Street.

I laid the metal case down on its side on the rug, lock facing upwards. Then, grasping the sword in both hands, lowered the point into the slit. The catch released and the case opened up. A large silver key with a triangle-shaped bow fell out onto the rug. I handed it to Ben.

‘Well, it seems the king guessed that leaving valuable relics where they were susceptible to water damage wasn’t a good idea,’ he said. ‘I know what this key opens, Kal!’

I had no idea. ‘You do?’

‘Yes! And it’s not far from here. Come on!’

Still slightly damp, I followed Ben as he ran up Arcus Hill. In the Forum we raced past the enormous statue of Feron Firehand (soon to be torn down and replaced with an equally-massive statue of General Cassava, who gained immortality saving the city from a deranged killer) and entered the lobby of the city bank. It was past midnight, but money never slept, and the bank was still open.

BOOK: Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane
5.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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