Moon's Artifice (47 page)

‘I can offer no assurances there,’ Rhe said quietly, feeling stripped to the bone by the aging Lawbringer’s words. ‘Only that I will be at the fore of them when they meet danger.’

‘That is precisely my fear. However, I can see no other course of action, so you have my approval – and may the Gods be with you.’

Narin watched the rain fall through half-closed curtains. It lasted only a few minutes, a brief shower to wash the harbour clean as the second wave of boats set out for Confessor’s Island. He stared at every face below him, careful to keep back in the shadows of the darkened room, but driven to try and pick out individuals among the crowd.

Most were masked, supposedly against the fever, and were impossible to identify. He began to fit builds to those men and women he knew ; a fearful imagination that folk he trusted might yet turn out to be one of the goshe. There, a heavyset man with tightly-rolled shirtsleeves, black hair cropped close to the scalp, could have been Irato at that distance. Three or four who could have been Enchei, greying hair and average builds – one, Lord Vanden with coffee-coloured skin and a slight paunch. There was even a substitute for Kine, slender and dark with her hair tied back in a bun – but the gait gave her away as a stranger.

Her, at least, I’d know. Even in such a crowd, I’d recognise her.

Cartloads of the sick arrived from every alley, the fever-struck propped limp against each other or lying flat on stretchers. Some were carried or dragged on improvised travois, brought by others in the clothes of their trade ; surely too many to all be goshe. The people of the city – fuelled by fear of leaving their sick neighbours close to family or driven by concern for the stricken – had mustered of their own volition to help the goshe.

The white-clad doctors and their helpers – a few in goshe black but many more not so conspicuously dressed – moved among them, identifying some who’d succumbed, guiding others towards the boats. Not all were insensate, Narin noticed during his vigil as one hour dragged on into a second. A fair number were enfeebled, able to walk with assistance, and he saw those given preference on the boats.

Law Master Sheven had Lawbringers out on the harbour walk too – only a small number, but they were engaged in an opposite effort wherever possible. The enfeebled were mostly the stronger adults, fit and healthy men and women most likely to be trained at a Shure. In the name of mercy, Sheven’s small cadre of supervisors were trying to get the old and youngest preference, without sparking a confrontation. They had no way of telling whether the sick were genuine or not, but they could at least hamper the rate at which goshe soldiers were transported to their island.

‘How’re you feeling ?’ Kesh asked behind him.

Narin gave a start. He’d not heard her come in. ‘Me ? Well enough.’ He shifted his feet and unconsciously put one hand to his stomach.

‘There’s no place for heroics here,’ she warned him. ‘You sure ?’

‘So speaks the woman who shouldn’t even be here,’ Narin said in reply.

‘That’s different – I’m staying to do what I can, but I’m not pretending to be strong when I’m not.’

‘Good for you.’ He gestured to the long rows of sick out on the harbour walk. ‘It’s almost midday and they’re still loading most of this second journey. Doubt they’ll get more than four trips.’

‘Have you been able to keep count ? Any idea how many are out there ?’

‘Hundreds,’ was all Narin could say.

He flexed the scraped, scabbed fingers of his right hand, watching the skin move as he tested his strength. His stave stood to one side and Narin picked it up, rolling his shoulders in a few slow strikes to test how easily he could use the weapon.

‘Get some rest,’ Kesh advised, watching him carefully. ‘What they put you through, you need some sleep. We’re not moving until close to dusk anyway.’

‘I can’t sleep.’ Narin turned back to the window, careful to keep his expression hidden from Kesh. ‘I’ve tried.’

He heard a tiny sound from her, abruptly cut-off as Kesh thought better of arguing. For a moment his eyes did close and his head bowed, but it was not sleep that gripped him and his hand was shaking by the time he looked up again.

‘Is Enchei here ?’

‘Went back to the inn, said he had to fetch a few things.’

‘Is that safe ?’

Kesh gave a snort. ‘Seems the old man can handle himself. If they’ve bothered leaving anyone to watch the place, they’ll get a nasty surprise.’

‘Irato ?’

‘Downstairs, seeing to our weapons. It was either that or he was just going to stare at the wall for the next few hours, so I gave him a job to do.’

Narin looked around for his own daggers, then remembered he’d left them with the rest of their weapons. The house belonged to a family Kesh knew, or what was left of it anyway. The father and two youngest children had been taken by the fever and sent to the island on one of the first boats. There was a mother and son left, but along with hundreds of others they had packed a few belongings and left early in the morning – keen to be out of the fever-struck city until the worst was over.

How many had made that decision Narin couldn’t tell, but Kesh reported a steady stream of people heading towards the outskirts of the city. On her return journey from the Palace of Law the numbers had been marked – there were easily more fleeing than there were helping the sick to the docks. By the end of the day, he knew, things would start to get desperate. Panic would set in, violence would break out and shops would be looted, most likely. Where the limited numbers of the Lawbringers would be placed amid all that, Narin didn’t quite know.

‘What did your mother say ?’

‘What ?’ Kesh asked, startled. ‘My mother ? What do you think ? She was angry. She’s still grieving for Emari, for Pity’s sake – what did you think she’d say ?’

Narin shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I was just thinking about Kine. I’m not going to have the chance to say goodbye.’

‘It’s not going to be goodbye,’ Kesh insisted fiercely. ‘We’re getting through this, okay ?’

‘You don’t know that.’ Before Kesh could reply Narin held up a hand. ‘Wait, I don’t mean to be sounding so sorry for myself. I just meant I …’

His expression turned to one of frustration and his shoulders sank as he struggled to find the words for what he now felt.

‘You’ve unfinished business ?’ Kesh asked quietly. ‘The baby you and Enchei were talking about earlier ?’

‘Pretty much,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen, got no damn clue, but I’ve not seen her since this all started. I don’t know how she is, what danger she’s in – I’ve not even been able to try and do something about it. Can’t say I know what I should be doing, but ah, stars in heaven ! I wish there was time to at least try. We’re risking our necks and you know it – that part I don’t mind, a Lawbringer’s got to accept that. But … Ah …’

‘But doing so while Kine’s in danger goes against your oaths,’ Kesh finished.

‘Gods, it’s more than the oaths ! What sort of a
man
does that ? Puts a woman and child in danger without even trying to do something about it ?’

Kesh was quiet a while, then she came closer and took hold of Narin’s arm. ‘Look at yourself, Narin,’ she said. ‘You’ve been attacked and chased halfway across the city, then kidnapped and tortured ; you’re only upright because of some damn magery of Enchei’s. Now’s not the time for blaming yourself or asking what more you could have done. That you’re still going is better than could be expected of anyone.

‘Now come downstairs, sit and eat something. You want to do something for Kine ? Make sure you’ve got enough strength to survive the night, that’s all she’d ask for. That’s all she’d pray for.’

‘Not sure what use I’m going to be in a fight,’ he said, wincing as they headed for the door. ‘Certainly not against any goshe elite.’

‘Neither of us will, but when were we ever going to try to win a fair fight ? Enchei’s got something far better in mind. It needs a few brave men to pull it off, but I think we can find a couple of those.’

Narin smiled weakly. ‘A brave woman too.’

‘Pah. I’m not brave, I’m clever – and I intend to be alive at the end of this.’ Kesh patted his hand. ‘I’ll leave bravery to you idiots.’

Fragments of orange cut across the sky as the sun reached the horizon. White-robed doctors on the speckled pebble beach seemed to shine like beacons in the fading light. Above them, against the darkening sky, were the cloud-smeared constellations of Knight, but all eyes watched as the last wave of boats came in from the city. The crests of waves out in the bay beyond glowed brief and elusive in the evening light, faint echoes of the great beacons on the headland beyond.

From above the main gate, Synter watched the boats drive for the beach, each captain eager to unload his fever-stricken cargo and turn around before night truly took hold.

‘Atash,’ she called softly to the man below.

The Wolf turned to look up at her, the last of the light imbuing a strange fire to his yellow eyes. ‘Aye, sir.’

‘Father Jehq says we’re close. We won’t need all of these.’

‘I should kill ’em ?’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ she snapped. ‘Point is, get the first couple dozen up to the hospital quick as you can. Might be we don’t need them at all, but they can’t hurt. The others we’ll still use, but most importantly we need that starting jolt.’

She looked back towards the hospital ; a torch-lit lump a mile off. ‘Here come your helpers. Get the first lot unloaded and send ’em on, then lock down the beach. No one goes anywhere until you hear from me or you feel the moon rise, okay ?’

Atash grinned nervously. ‘Aye – the moon rising with a thousand voices in my head. Reckon I’ll notice that !’

‘Damn right you will – until then, keep sharp. If any God or demon’s paying attention, I reckon they’ll notice too.’

The man gave her a sloppy salute and headed back down the beach to meet the first boat. Synter checked around at the forces they’d left there. Only thirty-odd goshe stood on the beach, weapons hidden or lying flat on the ground so it wouldn’t look like they were quite so obviously on guard. Ten Detenii occupied the wall, crossbows with firepowder heads to hand in case the worst happened.

On the road behind her came another two hundred goshe in a disordered column. These ones were all moon-born ; loyal and trained soldiers of the goshe, but still cattle compared to Synter’s Detenii. Most had pulled on their black goshe jackets once they’d deposited the last load of patients at the hospital, the building’s grounds now almost entirely filled with silent, insensate fever-born. Their weapons were stashed in a temporary armoury inside the gate, but more than a few had used their polearms to make stretchers anyway.

Jehq would be finishing off the last of the fever-born now while the other Elders completed preparations for the ritual. The fever had taken people in a range of ways, but once the artefact had been touched to their heads they were as still as the dead. Indeed, Jehq had told her most would be dead by morning if a critical mass wasn’t reached.

Synter had watched it happen with a faint chill of dread – in part because this was at her instigation, but mostly at the simple sight of a thousand living corpses whose minds would soon be linked. She was glad she wasn’t the one doing the work there. Jehq had looked drawn as he’d carried the bluish-grey block from one fever-born to the next. The shards of gold-flecked quartz set into the artefact pulsed with inner light as it touched each one – a flush of hungry delight from their enslaved demon, Synter imagined, as it consumed soul after soul and slowly grew in strength.

The first boat reached the dock and Atash grabbed the rope thrown at him. He tied it off and trotted up the short ramp one of the goshe dropped against the side. Synter watched him hop onto the deck as the ship’s sailors, all still masked against the fever, started moving the first of the enfeebled patients forward. It was a practised routine now and even before the reinforcements made their way through the gate and down the beach, Atash’s men and women had half the first boat unloaded.

Synter looked up at the remaining ships drawing up to the shore. Even with the second jetty they’d constructed and the deeper-drafted ships winching down their shore boats laden with the sick, much of the daylight had been lost unloading at the island end.

‘Least it won’t matter this time around,’ she muttered. ‘That first boat’s got enough for Father Jehq’s needs. The rest can wait.’

A second ship pulled up to the jetty, buffeting it as it came in a shade too fast. The jetty shuddered and men stumbled, Atash jumping up to bellow remonstrations at the captain even as its lines were secured.

Synter couldn’t hear what was said, but whatever was called back Atash didn’t seem to like it. Her hand tightened as she watched the Wolf drop onto the jetty and race up the lowered gangplank.

Seven hells – now’s not the time, you damn fool !

She glanced towards the steps that ran down to the ground, momentarily undecided whether she should go and sort it out herself, but Atash was a Detenii. She knew perfectly well he’d have won any fight by the time she got there, by which point she’d just look stupid in front of one of her less-respectful soldiers.

Synter hissed with irritation and reached down to grab her crossbow instead. ‘If that’s not sorted quick,’ she commented to the nearest man on the wall – Frayl, a Redearth from her team whose skin looked rustier than usual in the waning light – ‘someone’s getting shot. I don’t care who.’

Frayl grinned and nodded, hefting his own bow. From a small table beside him he tapped one of the firepowder quarrels they had on hand. ‘One o’ these’d shake ’em up !’

‘Spark a bloody panic more likely,’ Synter said, a trace of regret in her voice. She looked up at the boats and frowned. There was a staccato light shining on board the fisher Atash had boarded. ‘What the fuck’s he doing ?’ she breathed. ‘Showing his Lightning Blessing for the whole damn Empire to see ?’

‘Ah, Synter ?’ Frayl said, doubt showing in his voice, ‘I don’t know much about boats but ain’t those coming kinda quick ?’