Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (24 page)

"How many men are left to defend Davidheyr?" Gideon demanded.

"A hundred and twenty part time militia, what are they called...I keep forgetting the name..."

"Limitanei?" Gideon suggested.

"Yes, that's right, a hundred and twenty of them, and about thirty or so of the provincial guard, the ones who survived the ambush. There's another fifty or so Revenue men holed up in the Quaestor's counting house, but they're like lost sheep without him, they won't come out."

"What about aid from Deucalia province, across the river?"

Amy laughed darkly. "Not much chance of that. A unit of more limitanei arrived at the river bank yesterday, but not to help out, no. They came to close the bridge and stop anyone from getting across the river into their province. Said they were afraid of Crimson Rose saboteurs trying to cross. As if the Crimson Rose ever cared about Deucalia. There was a regular legion here, too, but two days ago they left."

"Left?" Gideon repeated. "Where did they go?"

"Ameliorahem," Amy said. "Their officers didn't want to talk to me, no, but the one I could get to say two words while he was looking down his nose at me said they were bored and wanted to get to grips with the enemy."

"I see," Gideon muttered. "Can you recall which legion it was, by any chance?"

Amy's brow creased with thought. "Thirty Fifth, I think."

"Yes, that sounds about their style. Lots of courage, the Thirty Fifth, but no patience. No brains either, I'm sad to say, they seem to select only the greatest hot heads for their offices. Or perhaps the culture of the legion would make even the wisest man act rashly. No matter, it does seem that Davidheyr is in an unenviable position."

"You haven't seen the half of it yet," Amy said darkly.

Davidheyr had no proper gateway, instead it had a place where the earth walls ceased, bridged by a light wooden bright walled with wooden stakes overlooking a gate that was also made of wood. Together Michael, Gideon and Amy passed beneath the wooden arch and into Davidheyr. As they moved beyond the wall and down the main street they were forced to pause, if not by the shock then by the press, as they surveyed in astonishment the scene before them.

Michael was not a stranger to crowds; every year Lover's Rock was crammed to the rafters with people come to celebrate the Sea Covenant festival. Each year the inns filled up and poorer pilgrims camped out on the outskirts of town. But he had never seen crowds quite like this. Davidheyr's street was filled with people, sitting or kneeling against the walls of the houses, sleeping slouched down in the gutters, surrounded by piles of meagre, damaged possessions. An old woman in a shawl huddled a little girl close to her, warming her within the folds of her black stole. A man with a greying beard stared absently at his hands, tears falling from his face. A mother breastfed her squalling baby as she sat in the doorway of someone else's house. A man cradled the stump of his severed hand. A bald man in a toga stained with dirt and night soil clasped his possessions tight as though they were children, while a young lady shivered in the remains of an elegant gown, her ruined hair still half held in ringlets that would have taken a slave hours to arrange. As Michael stared, these homeless who had overrun the road stared right back, their gazes a mixture of hostility and - even worse - a kind of hollow emptiness that suggested all hope had fled. Their faces were drawn, their eyes and cheeks sunken, half of the people here looked ready to die for lack of the will to live, the other half looked as though the chill of night would finish them.

"Turo under the ocean," Michael murmured. "How can people be left to live like this?"

"At least they are alive," Amy said. "As I said, people have been coming in from all over the province, seeking shelter and protection. Those with money have brought up every room in every inn. The Great Temple is full of the faithful whose homes have burned. They sleep in the old Barracks of the Firstborn and the Temple of the Knights of the Covenant. Every stable, every drinking hall, everywhere is full of people. People have even opened up their homes to strangers out of charity. It is not enough. There's no more room for them."

"There must be something we can do," Michael murmured.

"The only thing that will people now is defeating the Crimson Rose," Amy said.

"Lord Gideon," Michael said. "There must be something."

Gideon said. "Are they being fed."

"A little," Amy said. "The granaries have been opened, and the storehouses too, what there is is getting doled out in small portions. I don't know how long it will last, but for now people's bellies aren't completely empty. I've known peasants manage on less."

"Hmm," Gideon murmured. "In that case I don't really see that there is anything more to be done, Michael. Our concern must be to cross the river and continue on our way, we cannot squander time here in efforts that will avail the Empire little."

"These people look to the Empire to protect them and so far it has failed, my lord," Michael said.

"And that is tragic, yes, but not my concern," Gideon said. "I cannot put the fate of the Empire in the balance to save one town."

"What is the Empire without its people, my lord?" Michael demanded. "There must be something you can do to ease their plight, anything. You are the First Sword of the Empire, a lord and a hero both."

"What would you have me do?" Gideon asked calmly.

"I..." Michael hesitated. He bowed his head. "I know not, my lord."

Gideon shook his head. "I am afraid that I am very far from a hero, Michael." He put one hand on Michael's shoulder. "But I will do what I can, for you and for these children of the Empress. Come with me."

Gideon led Michael and Amy through the cramped and crowded streets, stepping around and over people. The Square of Ameliora was even more crowded than the street, with a tent village growing up around the statue of the princess. Every inn they passed had its doors thrown open, and slumbering bodies spilled out of the common rooms and into the street. Some houses were all shut up, but at others Michael saw people coming out and tending as best they could to the poor people outside. It was kind of them, and they would be rewarded by Turo for their generosity, but it was not enough.

These people have no hope,
Michael thought, looking at the faces of those he passed.
They have no hope because they have no one on their side. Who takes their part in all of this? Who fights in their name?
The Empire's magistrates had abandoned them, her legion had marched away, her militia had perished in the field. They had nothing left but an earth wall, a naiad knight and less than two hundred men.

Who will defend these people should the Rose come? If it has not already.
Michael remembered how they had entered Lover's Rock, half of these people might secretly be rebels, sharpening their knives all this while.

Gideon led him to what looked like a large storehouse, with its doors securely locked.

"This place does not appear to have opened its doors and its stores to the hungry masses," Gideon remarked.

"No," Amy replied. "Clearly not."

"Then why haven't you opened it?" Gideon asked.

"Because it doesn't belong to me," Amy said. "I don't know who the owner is, or the tenant or whoever. It's private property, and you can't taking things that aren't yours. That's how you get bloodfeud."

"I doubt some fat little merchant is going to threaten my life," Gideon said. "Open the door."

Amy hesitated. "I'm not a thief. Do you take me for some wave-tossed undine raider, to steal manatees? I won't do it."

"Not even for the people?" Gideon pressed.

"The people will be even worse off if this becomes the sort of world where the strong take what they want because they can," Amy said. "Yes, we of noble blood have a duty to protect them, but that includes protecting them from our worst impulses, however good our intent."

"This is a time of war," Gideon replied. "And, as First Sword of the Empire, I may requisition anything I deem necessary for the prosecution of the war. Michael."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Get this door open, if you would."

Amy said, "You know perfectly well a man won't be able to force that; here, let me." She glanced at Michael. "I wouldn't want to see you get hurt trying to break it down. Just you remember what I do for you." She stepped up to the door, drew back her fist, and struck the entrance with a fierce blow that shattered the locks and splintered the wood into fragments with a great crack.

Michael's eyes widened as the door fell in shards and splinters before his eye.
God under the waves, how did our Amy become so strong?

How did she end up living with naiads?

Gideon's smile was very nearly a smirk. "Thank you, Ameliora. Now then-" He stopped, abruptly turning his head to look at the far west corner of the square, where a group of minotaurs squatted together, gathered around what looked at a distance to be a couple of wounded minotaurs. Their bodies were covered in fur: some black, some brown, some reddish, some tan. Their horns were long, their hands were the size of turbots. Their bodies looked strong and muscular, and though they were sitting down they were as tall as some people even then. Michael was sure they would tower over men once they stood up.

"Who are they?" Gideon asked.

Amy shrugged. "I don't know. There's a fair few of them around. Some of them help out with the sick in the temple infirmary. I haven't spoken to them though. Honestly...I don't know what to think about them."

"What in the Empire do you mean?" Gideon said softly.

"Most naiads in my position would probably have driven them out of the town by now," Amy said. "The elder races don't have a lot of time for minotaurs. It doesn't sit right with me to call someone vermin for what they are, so I've not done anything to them, but...how can anyone be so passive. They also seem so nice, it makes me wonder what they're up to."

"What they are up to," Gideon said coldly. "Is living by their ancient way of life, under the protection of the Empress. Michael, come with me."

"Where, my lord?"

"To say hello," Gideon said. "I want you to meet them."

Michael furrowed his brow. "Why, my lord?"

"Because these are the Empress' most faithful servants, and you should know of their ways," Gideon said. "Come."

Gideon began to cross the square quickly, leaving Michael to follow in his wake, making two strides to Gideon's one just to keep up with him. Swiftly, Gideon passed through the crowds of people and stood before the cluster of a dozen, no there were fifteen minotaurs in all, three of them nursing injuries, cuts to their arms or legs that looked as though they had been dealt by swords. Some of them others had brusies from clubs or sticks, but were otherwise in good health. They all, Michael noticed, had a mark on their foreheads, like a birthmark, that looked almost like a silver star.

Gideon bent down with his knees, keeping his head up as he did so. "Under the peace that the Mother brought I, Gideon Commenae, greet these children of the Knosso Mina and ask the Mother's blessings upon you."

The minotaurs looked at one another, and as far as he could tell Michael thought Gideon had surprised them. At length a tall, black minotaur rose to his feet - as Michael had expected, he loomed over them - and spoke in a deep voice, "You know something of our ways. That is a rare thing in these times. Are you a true servant of the Mother then?"

Gideon said something in a guttural language that Michael did not understand, and the minotaurs, those who were not too badly hurt, reciprocated the gesture he had just made to them, bowing at the knees but keeping their heads high. Michael thought it looked strange, until he realised that with those horns on their heads, bowing their necks was more like a prelude to murder than a show of respect.

The black minotaur said, "The light of the Mother shine on you, First Sword and Faith-Keeper. I am Vas im Knosso, a Lesser Horn but leader of our folk in this place."

"How many of the Knosso tarry here? And what brought you to this place?" Gideon asked.

"Two score, trapped here by ill luck," Vas said. "I and my companions were droving cattle south from Romanopolis when the fighting began. When the Crimson Rose came upon us we offered them whatever they wished, as is our way. They took our cattle, our fat cows and our splendid bulls; and then they turned their weapons on us. They called us invaders, they killed eight of us and wounded another dozen. Most of our wonded died on the way here, or are dying in the infirmary of the god these folk call Turo. Your presence, Faith-Keeper, brightens a dark sky."

"As your presence brightens my horizon," Gideon replied. "Have you a Speaker in this city."

"We have," Vas said. "But what would the First Sword require with-"

"It has been a long time since I have been able to unburden myself," Gideon said, his voice quiet and carrying - for some reason that Michael comprehended not - a faint undertone of shame. "I would very much like to do so now."

Vas made a bass rumbling noise in his throat. "Lech, take the First Sword to Kassim."

Lech, another minotaur with red-brown fur, made the bobbing motion at the knees. "Of course. Follow me, Faith-Keeper."