Moon's Artifice (20 page)

‘But we have enough ?’ Synter pressed, suddenly animated at the idea. ‘If this is our only chance, we can’t turn away and not even try.’

‘But the risk !’ Jehq gasped. ‘How could we prepare in time ? How could we assemble them all without drawing notice ? We’d have none at all to spare as guards. There would be …’ He tailed off, unable to even express what was now flashing through his mind.

Synter shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t be perfect, it would be vulnerable – but if we succeed, no Great House or demon would dare move against us. The Gods themselves would preserve us and given the choice between risking it and walking away entirely, I’d rather have tried.’

‘And so the moon will rise,’ Jehq said hollowly, straightening and looking up to the shrouded sky as though her words had given him renewed strength.

‘The moon will rise,’ Synter echoed, fierce determination on her face. ‘Get the Elders ready. For better or for worse, the Empire stands on the brink. Time to spin the coin.’

They bumped to a stop at a deserted slip of wharf and the bargeman hopped nimbly out. His long oar slipped easily from its rest and a trail of water from the Crescent glittered in the morning light as it fell to the wooden walkway. Just as they had emerged from the grey shadow of the Mason’s Bridge, on the north shore of the Crescent, the sun had crested the hills east of the Imperial City. The water around them, layered with mist, had taken on a diffuse golden glow and their bargeman had broken into song to greet the day. The other boats on the Crescent, carrying the first of the day’s trade, had taken up the song in the next heartbeat – an invocation of the God presently in ascendance that made the hairs on Narin’s neck stand on end.

He’d heard the song often enough ; every resident of the city had heard the bargemen’s songs – a rousing reveille to start the day and chase away the spirits of the mist, a softer lament as dusk fell and they prepared to abandon the waters once more. This time it was different for Narin. Now he felt Shield’s gaze heavily on his shoulders, though the God’s constellation had passed by several hours earlier – and there was no comfort to be found there.

A second barge followed them and slipped easily into the neighbouring slot, its pilot tying up with two deft flicks before his boat had even come to rest. Rhe disembarked with an imperious look around the near-deserted dock. There were several barges tied up for the night, while a pair of sea-going ships occupied most of the wharf space. At present they were observed only by a pair of sailors on watch and a handful of servants in white scarves already about their daily tasks.

‘You know where the Shure is ?’ Narin asked as he followed Rhe off the boat.

Rhe turned, watching their companions disembark before he replied. ‘I believe so,’ he said, ‘but Lawbringer Shoten knows the district better than I.’

The other Lawbringer was a tall, lean man with long, flowing limbs and a serene air, while by contrast the Investigator hovering in his lee was a wary, sharp-eyed youth. Both were tanned of skin – not nearly so dark as Kine’s rich ebony, but enough to show they were not local stock. The pair were certainly not House Moon or their major subordinate, Rain, so Narin guessed they were part of some lesser House under Moon to know their way around the district.

‘The Shure is just behind the dock,’ Lawbringer Shoten announced, one hand resting on the long hilt of his sword. He pointed off to the right towards a large non-descript building. ‘Two streets away ; we can cut down that alley.’

Rhe nodded and handed their bargeman a square steel token inscribed with his own name – payment to be redeemed at the Palace of Law – and instructed them both to wait. That done he set out in the direction Shoten had indicated. Narin fell in behind, allowing the other Lawbringer to stride forward and walk alongside his peer.

At least this one’s not a nobleman,
Narin thought sourly.
Think I’ve got enough of them messing up my life for the moment.

He felt foolish and childish almost as soon as he thought that. The lack of sleep had not improved his mood, nor the fruitless search of the free hospital, but Narin knew perfectly well that Rhe was being generous in the freedom he allowed his Investigator. At least he was being trusted and listened to rather than lectured at – as no doubt some Lawbringers would have done, once there was blood spilled.

He glanced at Shoten’s Investigator as they crossed the cobbled ground of the docks. Clearly new to his position, the young man trotted in his master’s wake like a frightened puppy, eyes on the ground. His name was Orel, or so the brief introductions had revealed, but all Narin had got from him was a bob of the head and no actual words. In the presence of the great Lawbringer Rhe, Orel had no voice, it seemed.

Into the alley and across a market street they went, the four men attracting a few curious looks from the inhabitants of the district – mostly dusty-dark Moons in stained brown labourer’s coats. Rhe and Shoten kept their eyes ahead, the pair seeming to compete to appear the most calm and controlled, while Narin tried not to compulsively check every doorway and alley.

The last of the mist had fled under the sun’s assault, but his fears hadn’t gone with it. For the bargemen, the dawn heralded a return of the mortal realm. It was the water that brought concealing fog and its lowest depths housed predatory demons more than willing to eat humans. Possessed foxes might steal a man’s soul, but there were many kinds of demons and some were monstrous hunters rather than incorporeal horrors.

Narin found himself hardly able to summon the childhood fears he’d once possessed. Now the demons were men, not monsters, and his fear was reserved for more adult things. The aristocratic tones of Prince Sorote echoed in his ears, the electric touch of Kine lingered on his skin. Both provoked a different sort of fear inside him ; very different flavours to the terror of blood and steel he’d experienced during the night, but just as real.

It was almost with relief that they came upon the goshe training house, nestled unobtrusively at the end of a narrow street. It was a single-storey construction built to blend in to the moss-topped houses of Moon District, but obvious for the long bank of sliding panels flanking a red-lacquer double door that all opened out onto a surrounding courtyard.

The building was fenced on three sides and extended a little way back, but the room at the front occupied half its area and was where the goshe fighters trained. One red-bordered wooden panel was open and through it Narin could see a man sitting in the centre of the training hall.

He was a Moon by the colour of his skin, the grey of his cropped hair accentuating its dusted appearance. Dressed in a dark tunic identical to those the assassins had worn, the man had his eyes closed and some sort of spear across his lap – a broad-headed weapon Narin realised was a bill, a peasant’s tool converted for battle. Here, they cared little for caste, but clearly paid attention to the implements their pupils might already be used to.

In another life,
he said inwardly,
I might have been one of you.

He slipped his hands behind his back, feigning a respectful pose while freeing his stave, ready to draw.

Lawbringer Rhe strode up to the open doors and stepped through them. The Shure master made no sign of noticing them and it was only when all four had entered the room that he deigned to open his eyes. As he and Rhe regarded each other, Narin checked around the room. In the low morning light it was dim without lamps. Racks of weapons stood at regular positions on the walls ; alternately wooden ones for practice and steel-bladed for something more serious. The Shure master was alone, but one of the doors leading off from behind the man was ajar. There was an altar-like table set against one end, flanked by weapon racks. Covered by a dark red cloth edged in silver, the table held only a small ornament – a stylised silver tree from the base of which a stick of incense burned.

‘You are the Shure master ?’ Rhe asked.

The man looked away from Rhe before answering, scrutinising each of them in turn before finally locking his eyes back on Rhe and speaking. ‘I am.’

‘Your name ?’

‘Master Nemeke.’

‘You know why we are here ?’

The Shure master didn’t reply.

‘You gave the order ?’

Again there was no response, but Nemeke didn’t break eye contact with Rhe.

‘Who instructed you to do so ?’

At that the Shure master tilted his head slightly. ‘Instructed ?’ he repeated dully.

Is he drunk ?
Narin wondered,
or a man who knows he faces execution ?
He glanced at Orel, but the young investigator didn’t notice, so intent was he on the aging man in the centre of the room.

‘You claim this was a personal dispute ?’ Shoten broke in.

Nemeke kept his gaze on Rhe. ‘The order was mine alone.’

‘You freely admit ordering an assassination, but not that it was under instruction from another ?’ Rhe clarified. Lawbringers were empowered to pronounce guilt and carry out sentences under the law, but rarely was it so simple. ‘This is a capital crime – you will be executed unless you were coerced into this affair.’

‘There was no other,’ he said with finality. ‘The girl was a temptress, she turned our brother against us. She had to be punished.’

‘What ?’ Narin demanded, taking a step forward. ‘What rubbish is this ?’

Rhe glared at him but it was too late and the Shure master’s attention locked onto Narin, eyes widening with slight surprise at who had replied.

‘You were party to the betrayal ?’

‘What betrayal ? She barely knew your man. There was nothing between them !’

‘She is the cause,’ Nemeke insisted, ‘and by assisting her, you, Investigator, are also to blame.’

The man’s eyes betrayed him, flicking slightly to one side. As the door behind him began to open, the world seemed to slow to Narin. His hands refused to draw his stave ; his feet were rooted to the spot. All he could do for that long, tortuous moment was watch the door open and the light catch the tip of a steel point.

Crossbow,
he thought uselessly while some part of himself raged at his body to move, to dive out of the way or do something to save his own life.
He was drawing me out !

A thunder-crack split the air and Narin shuddered involuntarily. A black spot appeared on the door and threw it backwards, closing on a falling figure behind. The shock made him breathe again and suddenly Narin could move, slipping his stave from the loop on his back.

‘I am goshe,’ Nemeke declared. He jumped to his feet and snatched up his weapon in one movement, eyes fixed on Narin. ‘I will die a warrior.’

Behind him, black-garbed goshe raced into the room – three— five of them, armed and heading for Narin.

‘No.’ Rhe said in an almost bored voice.

As Nemeke turned towards Narin, Rhe lashed out with one foot and caught the man behind the knee. The blow made the man falter and Rhe made up the ground between them in a split-second, hammering down at his head with the discharged pistol. The blow dropped Nemeke like a stone ; he crashed to his knees then pitched face-forward, already limp, while Rhe hurled the pistol at the next attacker.

Lawbringer Shoten charged in the wake of the throw, sword drawn and cutting down at the nearest. Narin didn’t wait to watch what happened as a masked figure with long plaited hair swung an axe towards his head. He dodged backwards and chopped down with his stave. The hardened wood thwacked crisply against the goshe’s forearm and jerked the weapon from its hand. A second whip-crack blow caught it on the side of the face and Narin felt it shatter its cheekbone.

Two more lunged at him with spears, but before they could run him through Rhe had arrived. The Lawbringer forced his way between the two goshe with a flurry of swift blows. Deflecting the spear-shafts of each, he planted a kick in the ribs of the larger and caught the other round the head with his stave. The goshe staggered and he hammered the butt into its shoulder, jerking the spear free. Before the other could react he’d struck up and caught them on the chin, snapping the hooded head back. A final
coup de grâce
across the shoulders of each and the first sagged to their knees, the other crumpled and went still.

Off to Narin’s right, Lawbringer Shoten dispatched his second goshe as they traded blows with Orel and then all was suddenly silent. Only one was still upright – the smaller of the spearmen who’d been driven to their knees. The goshe’s head was bowed, shuddering under the effect of Rhe’s blow, before they tore off their mask and vomited over the floor.

The Lawbringers hesitated. It was a woman, barely out of her teens, with a raised welt on her cheek from where Rhe had struck her. For a moment no one spoke or moved but then she seemed to recover herself and looked up at Narin.

‘I die a warrior,’ she announced as she pulled a dagger from her belt.

Rhe started forward, arm reaching back to hurl his stave, but it was too late. The woman never took her gaze off Narin as she wrenched the blade across her throat. Blood cascaded out across the pale wooden floor of the training room and, a look of momentary agony on her face, she pitched forward. Rhe ran forward and put one foot on the knife in her hand as he turned her over, but it was immediately clear that the wound was fatal and he stepped back.

‘Gods,’ breathed Orel. ‘They would rather die than be taken, but they’re just low born !’

Narin didn’t dare look at him, for fear he’d break his stave over the youth’s head.

You think cutting your own throat’s reserved to the higher castes ?
he wanted to scream at Orel.
All you need’s the guts to do it – guts I doubt you have.

‘The goshe welcome all castes,’ Rhe said, as though in explanation to Orel. ‘Do not assume anything.’

Narin watched the blood spread out from her prostrate body, pooling around her head like a dark halo. It was the first time he had seen such a thing and, though the horror of suicide left him sickened, Narin’s mind lingered on the look on her face as she had done it. There had been a perfect moment of purpose in her face ; of calmness and resolve that was its own horror.