The Starfall Knight (17 page)

A pair of thrashers stood at the edge, handling rope that trailed from above and hooked into the timber beams in the tunnel.  Dark figures shimmied the line, aided by knots at regular intervals.  Alessa peered out of the aerock; similar stations sprouted along the edge of Sirinis, black lines injecting into Centara.

“Is this how it’s done?” Alessa asked.

“Yes,” Dene said.  “I forgot that this is your first raid.”

Brunos appeared along with two Serpens members.  “Alessa, this is Elius and Malo.”  Both of the Serpens were encased in chainmail with broadswords strapped over broad shoulders.  Elius was older, perhaps close to fifty, while Malo appeared Alessa’s age but for a permanent scowl across his face.

“Our team?”

“Yes,” Brunos said.

“Let’s move.”

Brunos nodded and took hold of one of the ropes.  He hitched a second rope around his shoulder like a bag strap and tied it around the dangling cable.

“What if we lose our grip or fall?” Alessa asked.

“Best that ya don’t,” Dene answered.  “The safety loop will ensure that ya land back here.  Some make it fine while others break their legs or whatnot.  I’ve seen heads smash against the tunnel floor.  Messy.”

“Keep a good hold,” Elius said, preparing to climb another line.  “Always one hand on the rope.  Stand on the knots.”  He leaped and clambered up.

Brunos followed on another rope and Dene motioned for Alessa.

“Here, girl,” Dene said, offering a safety loop.  “Your turn.”

Alessa clenched her fists, punching either hand.  She strode forward and ignoring her shaking knees.  So, this was how Devan felt, Alessa thought.  A rational fear.  The wind pushed a stray lock of hair into her face.

Dene looped the safety line around a climbing rope and pulled, making sure the knots held.  “A piece of advice?”

Alessa nodded.

“Just climb.  Don’t look down.”

“All right.”  Alessa gripped the rope with both hands and hooked her feet into position.  The thrashers on duty released the rope and Alessa’s weight carried her out of the tunnel, the aerock, and into the air.

She looked up, imagining the masses of aerock as nothing more than edges of two Centaran buildings.  The strip of maroon sky twinkled with stars.  Alessa stretched for the next knot and began the climb.

Her shoulders and arms burned with exertion before long.  While the gauntlets protected her hands, terror and strain coursed through her fingers.  Alessa’s years of imagination through reading did not help unlike other physical activities that she’d rather not ponder.

Alessa judged her progress at around halfway and she stood on the rope, giving her arms a respite.  The rope swayed, buffeted by the wind howling between the two masses of aerock, and Alessa gripped the rope all the more tightly.  She dared not think of what would happen if the line broke – no safety loop would save her then.  No, best to be on solid ground.

She resumed the climb, hand over hand, sliding the length of rope between her boots.  Alessa ignored the fatigue in her shoulders this time, driven by the emptiness below.  Could a person survive a fall into the sky?

The rope drew close to Centara, grass and bushes that grew on the side almost within reach.  The line shifted, slid upwards and within moments, hands grasped her arms and pulled her onto Centara.

“Took your time,” Brunos said. 

“And you’re wasting more time with chatter,” Alessa replied.  She hopped onto the wagon drawn by two draughthorses.  Elius and Malo sat at the front.  “Let’s move.”

“Yes, mistress,” Elius said.  He shook the reins and the horses set off.  Brunos grumbled and jogged up, dragging himself onto the wagon.

As they left the edge of the aerock, two Sirinese melted into the shadows with coils of rope hooked over their shoulders.  They were part of Tarius’ plan that Alessa had no knowledge of.  She would have to be wary of other secret business that her fellow Sirinese would undoubtedly carry out.

The journey to the city would take the majority of the night.  Alessa nestled back and closed her eyes, confident that her light sleeping habits would warn her at any sign of trouble.

She awoke to the orange pre-dawn gloom.  Brunos and Malo drove the wagon while Elius napped opposite Alessa.  They had joined the early influx of farmers with merchandise and foodstuffs to sell in the city’s markets.  To all outward appearances, they were Centaran soldiers returning from an outlying settlement.

Dawn broke as they entered the city proper.  The city guards at the gates waved them on – Alessa knew that they had little jurisdiction over the red tabards of the military.

The main avenue from the gates branched in either direction and the wagon halted amidst the flow of morning business.  “Which way?” Brunos asked.

“West,” Alessa said.

Brunos shook the reins and the wagon trundled off.

“I ain’t seen a city like this before,” Malo said as they passed the towering structures of the first tier.  “And there is more?  Above?”

“Yes,” Alessa said.

“Ain’t nothing special,” Elius said.  The older Sirinese eyed off the hawkers selling food on the side of the street.  “I could do with some of that stick-meat.”

“We have no money,” Alessa said.  “No time to waste, either.”

Elius grunted.

The wagon entered the community of miners that had arose from proximity to the mining lift.  The morning bustle of the rest of the city did not reach here.  As Alessa understood, most of the workers lived underground.

“Where is the lift?” Brunos asked.

“The lift?  We’re to steal more supplies,” Alessa said.

“No, girl,” Brunos said.  “We’re to destroy their andonite pipes.”

“That’s our order as well,” Elius said.

Alessa looked from Brunos to Elius.  “Fine.  It’s further ahead.  Near the city wall.”

Brunos drove the wagon between the stone dwellings.  Although the low structures and haphazard layout reminded her of Sirinis, the quality of the construction and clean roads were distinctly Centaran.  A wide avenue led to the lift entrance and the four Sirinese alighted from the wagon.

“Ho, there,” the city guard said.  “That was fast.”

“Of course,” Brunos said.

The second city guard rang a bell and a booming sound echoed from the wooden gates that were wide enough for ten men to walk abreast.

“Good luck down there,” the first guard said.  “We don’t expect any trouble, but you never know after the raids this morning.”

“Very good.”

The entrance shuddered, dust shaking from the surrounding stone frame, and Alessa peered into the portal.  A platform made of metal and wood had appeared.  The guards pulled on a chain and the gates opened.  “All aboard.”

Brunos, engrossed in his impromptu role as leader, ushered in Alessa, Elius and Malo.  “My thanks.”

The guards nodded and shut the gates.  One of them rang the bell again and chains whipped past the platform.  The surface jolted.  The descent began.

“What magic do these people possess?” Malo asked.

“Not magic,” Alessa said, “just machines.”

“But what of the smooth stone blocks?  And this lift-device?”

“With the right tools, they can be made.”  Alessa watched the chains whirring past.  “If Sirinis wasn’t in a state of constant civil war, we could achieve similar feats.”

Elius said, “And leave Tarius in charge?”

“Someone.  Anyone,” Alessa said.  “Aren’t you sick of fighting?”

“A good fight and a good fuck,” Elius said.  “That’s all a man needs.”  He clapped Malo on the shoulder.  “Right, lad?”

“Right.”

Alessa loosened the sword in her scabbard as the two Serpens eyed her off.  The platform ground to a halt and the tension faded as the gate to the underground complex rolled open.  Alessa glanced up, the speck of light the only indication of the outside world.  She hadn’t even noticed that her eyes had adjusted to dim light under the yellow glow of the lamps.

“Welcome,” a city guard said.  “Here to protect the pipes?”

“That we are,” Brunos said.  They exited the lift and stepped into the cavern.

“You lot have never been stationed down here, have you?”

“No.”

“It’s not so bad,” the guard said.  “There’s a tavern and small market, if you have slate to spare.”  He pointed into the gloom, past the lamps and torches sputtering in the darkness.  “The maintenance entrance to the pipe systems is at the far end.”

“What about the mines?” Brunos asked.

“Don’t worry about them.  Plenty of miners to look after the veins and tunnels.  You four just need to watch for the water and air transfer systems.”

“Very well.”

Brunos led them in the direction that the guard pointed.  In a low tone, he said, “Elius, Malo – stop gawking.”

“Right.”

Alessa stayed at the rear, trying to heed Brunos’ warning.  She could not fathom how a settlement could thrive underground but if the Centarans could exploit andonite, anything was possible.

Few of the miners paid them any heed and they passed the tavern, marketplace and meagre village square.  Once past the residential cabins, they soon reached the iron grate that led into the established pipe systems.  The blue pulse of andonite illuminated the two red-tabarded soldiers on duty.  At the edge of the cavern, there were no other Centarans in sight.

“You the relief?”

Brunos nodded.  “We are.”  He jerked his chin towards the grate.  “How are we to get inside if there’s trouble?”

The soldier patted a pouch on his belt.  “With the key.  You ain’t been cleared for pipes access?”  He glanced at his partner and snickered.  “No problem, then.  If you see trouble on the other side, come running for some real men.”

“As you say,” Brunos said.  Alessa had never seen him act with such aplomb.

The soldiers ambled off and Alessa stepped out of their way.

Metal hissed on sheaths.  Elius and Malo stepped behind a soldier each, daggers in hand, and Alessa suppressed an instinctive warning cry.

In unison, the Sirinese thrashers each grabbed a soldier around the face with one arm and slit the throats of the soldiers.  Blood gushed out onto the cavern floor as Elius and Malo lowered the corpses down.

Alessa stepped aside, allowing the stream of blood past.  She relaxed her grip on her sword as Brunos tore the pouch from the soldier’s belt.  He produced the key and headed towards the grate.

She wondered if she had known the soldiers.  Their helms had covered most of their faces.

“Alessa!”

“Let’s move.”  She followed the thrashers into the tunnel.

Alessa took a few strides within the tunnel and she squinted against the pulsing blue andonite veins.  She knew it wasn’t particularly bright and only seemed so after the dark environs outside.

Malo ran a gauntleted hand along the exposed andonite.  The Centarans must have chiselled away the bedrock and dirt with exquisite care, leaving only the andonite, almost floating against the sides of the tunnel but for a thin strip of earth.

“This is unheard of,” Elius muttered.

“Then, what do you think of that?” Alessa said.

The thrashers peered ahead where the tunnel opened into a circular cavern with a low ceiling.  The andonite veins crawled along the tunnels, joining with other lines and forming pools of crystal on the walls, the ground, and above.  Incredibly, at least to Alessa, the pulse of the andonite was perfectly synchronised, each beat threatening to blind her with the accummulated light.

The Centarans had built pipes close to each striation of andonite but upon closer inspection, there were small machines operating like clockwork, hammering the mineral.  Sweat beaded on her forehead.  Heat – they were generating heat.

In the centre of the chamber, the crystalline webs of andonite fused together into a gemstone that was the size of a person.  Like the veins of andonite, the stone was surrounded by a machine flower.  Alessa had seen such a device in a book and from afar in the Centaran Council hall.  Like the harpsichord that had a range of levered hammers striking an array of strings, the autonomous machine struck the andonite gemstone.

“All this machinery and no people to operate it?” Brunos asked.  “This must be magic.”

“They are using the heat from the andonite,” Alessa said.  “It’s no magic.”

“It’s damned unnatural,” Elius said.

“More than piloting an aerock?”

“It matters not,” Malo said.  “We’re to destroy it.”

“Agreed,” Brunos said.  He drew his sword and swung at a pipe.  The weapon sheared away the metal tubing with a clang and bounced off the andonite.  Water burst out in a spray, lessening to a trickle within moments.  “Destroy it all!”

Elius and Malo whooped with glee and set about the chamber with their swords.  Metal clashed against rock and the hiss of steam and water filled the humid air.

Tiny hammers wriggled in the dirt.  Alessa knelt down, a twinkle catching her eye.  The hammers were linked by a thin cord intertwined with metal thread for strength.  They were no more magic than a mechanical clock.  Someone or something tugged at the line, causing the hammers to strike the andonite for heat.

“Brunos.”

The Tarian thrasher kicked at a pipe.  “What is it?”

“These devices are all connected with string.”

“So?”

“They’ll know,” Alessa said.  “That is, if they don’t already.  They’ll see the slack in the lines.”

“Let them come.”  Brunos stretched with his sword in hand.  “Let them die by our hands.”

Boots squelched in the blood-soaked dirt.

“Dead reds.”

“I thought they were coming for the weapons.”

“I thought so too.”  Devan lifted the head of one of the soldiers.  His throat had been hacked open from ear to ear.

“Moon worshippers, my arse.”  Tayu spat.

“Right.”

The iron grate stood open.  “Do you have it?”

“Here.”  Tayu handed over a metal-shod staff and Devan jammed the grate shut.

“That should hold for now.”

“Where to next?” Tayu asked.

“You need to find some help.”

“I
am
the help.”

“More help,” Devan said with a smile.  “I’ll head to the other entrance and see if I can’t meet up with Benton and the others.”