Chapter VI
Crossing The Nabed Falls
The next morning to the front of their Boarding House were five horses, courtesy of the Black Marketeers, with provisions enough for the journey east. They quietly and with the utmost care mounted the horses. Ventrigar took the lead, as their brief stay in Horrazim was all but over. As they rode down the cobbled streets, Achil could feel watchful eyes on his back, he carefully leant forward patted his horse and leisurely looked one way then the other. There was no indication that his worries were justified but that did not ease the apprehension he felt. The clapper of the hooves on the road did not disturb a city that never slept anyway, and merely mingled with a cacophony of other street sounds. They passed the spice, flora and fauna quarter, with its incredibly textured smells and varieties of flowers that overlapped like the many colours of the rainbow. The aroma was vital, alive. You could close your eyes and feel yourself transported to distant lands, except of course they were already in distant lands. They travelled across to where the grand lock on the great eastern canal was situated, a large transport vessel waited there to carry commerce to other parts of the empire. Parallel to the canal were rails on which sat carriages. Nishga dismounted to take a closer look, she had been a smithy by trade and her professional curiosity had been aroused by these strange looking carriages that ran on long metal lines, without the need for horses. Furtively she began looking around first through the open windows at the side, then beneath one of the carriages. Each wheel below the carriage was connected to an axle that ran up through a shaft. This was then attached to wooden paddles that were rowed by lines of slaves, creating motion. Once out of the city the rails veered away from the canal like the tributaries of a river connecting the mighty empire together. The purpose was a simple one, the carriage line transported cargo, commerce and the army and anyone else that could afford to pay for such a convenience efficiently and effectively across the empire. These were two truly ingenious ideas that Achil could not help but be impressed by.
Ventrigar approached one of the captains of a vessel hoping to pay for transport out of Mead and into what was as he called it the Imperium proper. While he went off to arrange their passage Achil and the others had a look around the pier area and marvelled at the engineering required to build such a network of canals and carriage lines. ‘The Great Eastern Canal’ as it was called was as broad as the widest river and it connected the major cities of the Imperium together. It was fed by a constant supply of running water coming from the distant mountain range. It was one of many true feats of engineering.
Ventrigar rejoined them, his face was pensive, his step less secure.
“What’s wrong?” asked Achil.
“I can only get us passage to the Nabed Falls, after that the ship heads off in the wrong direction. The next one east won’t be here for another week. This means we’ll have to find a path through the Razor Roc Mountain range another way other than by ferry, and that also means we'll have to pay for a guide to get us through, unless of course you wish to delay our passage east.”
As he spoke Ventrigar gestured toward the far off range of mountains that from where they stood had an unwelcoming menacing appearance. Ventrigar explained that since the Empires move west new paths and tunnels had been cut out of or into the land and where necessary right through mountains and hills; all paid for of course by the Merchants guilds. In a very little space of time he went on to say the Imperium had transformed the lands of the Mead the way a body might be transformed by tattoos, underneath it was still Mead on the surface it looked completely different. Achil listened intently, if the Empire with all the resources available to it, could do this, what else was it capable of doing? He resisted any urge to wait for the next passage east, the sooner they were on their way the better. Rather to go across the Mountains than risk being discovered as spies, by remaining in Horrazim. He told Ventrigar to arrange for their immediate departure. Ventrigar thoughtfully nodded, noticing the change in Achil, who seemed more determined than ever to reach their destination, and left to search for the man he had spoken to about boarding his ship for the journey to the Nabed Falls. Once passage was arranged the five of them had to wait at the docking area for another hour before boarding. The horses were taken on first. The five of them then climbed aboard. Below decks were stables and a cargo hold. The large ship had cabins to sleep in. A large luxuriant dining area with a stage at one end where musicians would sit, and singers would serenade guests while they ate. It was highly palatial and incredibly opulent.
“Have you ever seen the like of this?” asked Achil with some astonishment.
This was after all a boat built for a canal. Along the walls were frescos, even the windows had golden tasselled drapes to them. There was a staircase leading to the upper levels which had bronze statues of deities as banister posts. The floor was carpeted in places, beneath which were varnished wooden boards of exquisite quality. In fact it was so calm and peaceful you could not tell you were afloat. The ship had six iron propellers coated with a non-corrosive substance, that was actually the resin of some obscure plant from beyond the barren lands, they rotated by the power given to them by a series of pumps manned by slaves. Between the propellers was the rudder which was steered by a navigator's wheel on the crew deck. The ship was truly the height of modern technology.
A crew member seeing them wander into the dining area approached them enquired as to their tickets and then called to a cabin boy to show them to their cabins. On entering their cabin Achil and Nishga were astounded at what they saw, it was as luxuriant as any room could be. A large four poster king size bed greeted them. They had a veranda that afforded them a view of panoramic proportions, the mountains in the distance seemed more serene, comforting, less inhospitable, less foreboding from the comfort of where they were. There was a bureau to write on, a stand with an expensive bottle of wine on it, and a vase filled with local flowers. The two of them jumped onto the bed leant back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling which was also adorned with frescos of ancient deities, and long forgotten battles. By the side of the bed a small bell rope hung down ready to call on room service if required. It would be easy to forget with all the comforts they were surrounded by that this was part of an empire that was unforgiving, relentless, and ruthless.
When eventually all the passengers and cargo were aboard; the ship began to move sluggishly forward. Below decks the slaves were rhythmically working hard to make the journey as comfortable and as pleasant for their overseers as possible. This was the reality of Empire, people worked and often died in close nit stifling conditions, only coming up for air to take in stores or to fill the cargo holds. A truer example of the differences between the differing classes of the Mandrake Imperium there could not be.
Achil almost began to doze off on the comfort of that bed. Finally remembering himself, he got up and closed the shutter doors to the veranda.
“Do you think you could get that Orb to work?” Achil’s voice lowered as he crossed the room, gesturing at the walls for her not to speak too loudly lest they be overheard.
Nishga opened her holdall quietly and took out the Orb. In her hand it seemed calm, reticent, as though no life existed within it. She went over to the small desk placed the orb down and began to concentrate. Almost immediately it came alive. Throbbing and pulsing with energy. Within it she flew across great distances, her mind drawn to where she needed to go. The city of Findolin came into view, in the next moment she could feel herself falling as if from a great height, as though she were an eagle about to dive on its prey.
The Alchemist was seated at a table in discussion with King Paladin when the Orb by his side began to glow. He picked it up wondering if the King of the Underlings was trying to communicate with him, only to find to his surprise and delight that it was Nishga. The glow from the Orbs illuminated both their faces, the voices in their heads were so clear that it was as though they were seated opposite one another. Nishga informed the Alchemis
t of their journey up to that point, where as the Alchemist informed her that the Mandrake Imperium in the guise of the Mead had sent a force in strength across the Danubean River, but when they had assaulted one of the new border fortifications, it had been driven back thanks mostly to the Dragon Fire Chambers. Apparently they had entered the land of the Finns to test the defences and the resolve of the people. Nothing else untoward had happened. Now he knew she had an Orb of her own he would keep his close by just in case she needed him. Also Ladon, that Mighty Dragon, asked after them and wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help. Nishga said to send her gratitude for the offer but at the moment things were proceeding to plan, which actually meant that they had not at least been caught, but she would bear his offer in mind. Achil asked Nishga to relay some messages to King Paladin and Agoran regarding troop movements and of Mead resistance to the Imperium. She spoke for some time on whether their strategy should alter before finishing the unscheduled talk. The glow emanating from the Orb diminished. Nishga placed it back in her holdall, with Achil by her side desperate to hear what answers there were from his questions.
“Well?” said Achil impatiently. “What news?”
“Apparently there was a raid across the Danubean River but the Finns were warned of its coming well in advance, and had time to set up the Dragon Chambers which forced the Mandrake Imperium to withdraw before any real harm was done. Also apparently news of Findolin’s resistance has spread. People who do not fit into the Imperium's ideals are streaming across the border everyday seeking sanctuary, many thousands wanting freedom to choose their own destiny, their own way of life. These are people that do not wish to be enslaved.”
Achil stared into the distance. “I know exactly why they are letting those people leave the Imperium. They are trying to create an administrative nightmare; we cannot afford to keep so many peoples in Findolin. They also want all their enemies in one place so as to annihilate them with one savage blow. I wouldn‘t be surprised if they are sending spies disguised as sanctuary seekers.”
“Well their plan seems to be failing because the people inhabit areas and lands that were laid waist to by the Mandrake. It appears artisans and alchemists are among them carrying knowledge of how the Imperium works. Even Hecata is being rebuilt. A lot of people are also being moved on to Askalon or to Osgaroth. Also to my Kingdom of the Underlings which if you recall actually needs an infusion of people power, and get this, negotiations have also been opened with the isolationist Nashvilly. Things are not as dark as when we first left.”
“Perhaps that’s their plan they won’t conquer us, they’ll just simply overpopulate us.”
“Umm I don’t think so; you don’t leave a repressive state because you enjoy repression you leave one because you're looking for something a whole lot better.” Nishga stretched out and lay back on the bed.
Though the ship was moving, they could barely feel anything except for the flapping sound given off by the propellers as they created the wash as the ship was forced forward. That evening they went down to eat a pleasant if a bit too extravagant a table was set. Afterward they went out for a stroll on deck; the two of them stared over the side. Below them they could see the lower decks tightly populated by travellers wishing to make new lives for themselves in the central kingdoms and the east. The contrast with the upper deck was striking. There was room aplenty, it was plush, fragrant and not pungent. They could see from where they stood the uplands, above were a myriad of stars like so many encrusted jewels shining down on them, the mountains beneath them like a coronet. The moon slowly peered through the gap between the mountains as though someone were looking over a broken aged ruin from ancient times; Razor Roc was now looming ever closer. Another ship passed them by much longer than their own, a less sophisticated type, being rowed. The sails were tied back. At its masthead was a banner in the shape of a Ravenous Wolf. To its deck were lined Ballista. From their high position Achil and Nishga could see columns of Troops.
Achil led Nishga back to their cabin. Lying back on the bed Achil gave out a long sigh. He had to keep reminding himself he was in enemy territory. Nishga leant into him her arm reaching over his. She was already sleeping. Achil closed his eyes and drifted off. In his dreams he saw himself trying to build a wall. Nishga was standing over him asking him what he was doing. He just carried on building the wall. Then a storm appeared out of nowhere and blew the wall down. After it had gone he began again to build it back up.
He was woken by a sharp knock at the door. Achil went over to it. A voice on the other side hurriedly asked them to open the door.
“What’s wrong?” asked Achil as Andreas entered the room shutting the door quickly behind him.
“It's Ventrigar. He’s dead, murdered.” Andreas's eyes revealed how shocked he felt.
“Are you sure?” asked Achil not knowing how to take the news.
“Well pretty much, unless you think the knife sticking out of his back was somehow self-inflicted. I think we should get off at the next stop. Ride on to the falls.”
“But by running that would make us look guilty.” Nishga had woken startled by the banging on the door.
“Not necessarily,” said Andreas. “The local guards will probably put it down to a botched theft. We’ll leave on the pretext of being afraid of suffering the same fate. The security guards will want to talk to us prior to leaving. So let's stick to that explanation.”
Andreas noticed their room for the first time.
“Hey! You guys have been living like kings. This place is brilliant.”
“Yes it is. Anyway, everyone had better get ready, go inform Nicholas of what’s going on if you haven‘t already. When do you suppose we get to the next stop?” Achil went over to the chest at the bottom of the bed and picked up his leather jerkin and put it on.
“It's in an hour. Be downstairs and ready by then. Nicholas knows about Ventrigar, he’s currently snooping around to see what he can find out.” Andreas gestured toward the veranda, before leaving. “Hey, you’ve even got your own balcony.”
“Go." said Achil pointing at the door. A disappointed looking Andreas left. After he departed they hurriedly dressed. The airy feel of the room suddenly felt more enclosed more cage like.
“What do you think?” Nishga went over to her holdall and began throwing things into it.
“I think that either someone doesn’t want our mission to succeed, or the Black Marketeers are not the only ones playing the game. I also think that from now on we keep off the main highways. Just to be associated with Ventrigar might place us under suspicion and with the zero tolerant mandate of the Mandrake we’d be strung up without any questions asked. So let us leave while we can.”
As soon as they stopped at the next quay they made their way outside onto the lower decks. A guard looked at them seemed to recognise them and just ushered them off. The ship had arrived at a small settlement where a large storehouse filled with supplies was kept. Slaves disembarked and made their way over to one of the Store houses to replenish all the used supplies aboard ship. They were directed by an overseer to where the sacks of grain and livestock were. As the four descended one of the ramps leading off the ship, they saw the curious site of a goat being hauled with difficulty up one of the ramps. It seemed to take offence to the boy pulling at its tether and butted him. Knocking him into the canal, as everyone gathered round to help haul the boy out, Achil and his companions mounted their horses, and while the guards were distracted, and without being observed they innocuously rode away.
“Well that was easier than I expected.” He said tugging at the reins.
“Of course it was.” Andreas jabbed his feet into the side of his horse to encourage him to move faster. “I paid the boy to take the fall.”
“You know Andreas,” replied Achil. “You’re really fitting into this empire.”
They crossed the rails and sunk into a ditch on the other side, this they followed until they were out of sight of the ferry. Achil p
ulled out his map found the Quay they had just left and gestured toward the uplands that were to pass through. They only needed to stop once for a rest and a bite to eat. By the evening of the next day the canal was far behind them. While the others had chatted amongst themselves, Nicholas had been quiet throughout the journey.
“While I was spying around on the ship looking for any information as to why Ventrigar had been murdered, I overheard something in one of the cabins occupied by the crew.” He said, a look of puzzlement on his face as though he could not make out the significance of what he had been mulling over in his mind, and whether he would be thought of as being foolish if he repeated it.
“Go on.” Achil had slowed his horse and come along side Nicholas.
“They said that when they had checked his body that Ventrigar bore the tattoo of a Yanisary, someone who had been taken as a child from his homeland to become part of the personal elite troop that Jin had at his command.”
“I thought the Wrath were his elite guard.” Andreas who had been riding by Nishga’s side urged his horse forward a little. “Or the Shadow Warriors we’ve heard so much about, but have seen so very little of.”
“No, the Wrath are the elite fighting troops considered too savage for court life. A Yanisary is part of a special unit.”
“Look you never know he may have escaped back to his lands as a boy. Besides he was well known by Suji and Shwin.”
Andreas looked over to Achil. “You also said he knew Telallamain.”
“Yes.” said Achil suspicion growing in his mind. “He did at that.”
There was a feeling he had that he was missing something, missing some key element of a much larger puzzle.
“But who he might have been doesn’t answer the question of who killed him and why?”
Andreas rubbed the dust and sweat away that had congealed in the palm of his hands. “I think either someone found out who he was, and resolved to prevent him from helping us further. Or someone found out he was working for Jin and decided to help us by getting him out of the way.”
“That maybe but that still leaves the question. Was he killed for good or ill intent? So that he would not mislead us or prevent the successful conclusion of our mission. One thing's for certain we must from now on be extra vigilant when dealing with the locals."
The others all nodded in agreement.
“The Nabed falls aren't far from here according to the map. Once across there, we‘ll see what waits for us when we cross the Razor Roc Mountain range.”
They passed through an area known as the craggy way, filled with jutting uncompromising hillocks and narrow passages that slowed their approach to the Nabed Falls. As they crossed it there was an unnatural brooding silence about the place which was half covered in a light mist. Nicholas noticed a shadowy figure in the mist. He gestured to Achil that he was going over to investigate. They all followed quietly behind him. As they got closer they could see that it was in fact a monument, a small obelisk. The writing on it though faded could still be made out. Nicholas knelt down and rubbed the mud and grit away from the inscription to better read it. ’Go tell the Ragayans passer by, that by their laws and duty here they lie.’
“Okay who were the Ragayans?” Nicholas looked round at the others.
“You know what there maybe a way of finding out.” Nishga reached into the holdall to pull out the Orb, only to be prevented from doing so by Achil.
“This place is too open, we do not know what eyes may be watching us. Let us not draw attention to ourselves by forgetting where we are.” Achil turned back to Nicholas, “Your curiosity will have to be sated some other time.”
As the passage narrowed they dismounted and continued on foot, the mist was getting thicker. Time seemed to stand still in that empty place. Ahead in the distance they could hear what sounded like rumbling as though a stampede were occurring and coming right at them. The further on they moved the louder the sound got, eventually they came upon the Nabed falls, the largest water fall in the whole of Suberia. They could now see how the water had been directed toward the Great Eastern Canal. In the distance could be seen a large Dam. Further over a series of aqueducts. There was a small settlement by the falls on the opposite side. They could see people going about their business. A small ferry was ready to help anyone cross over. Once more they had to marvel at the ingenuity of the Mandrake Imperium.
“Look at this.” Andreas gestured to where a large pole stood on a high platform.
“What do you think that is?” Nicholas went up the steps onto the platform and started to wave across to the other side.
“It’s a signal. Probably to let them know we wish to cross over,” replied Andreas.
He pulled at the rope and a flag began to rise up it. Sure enough on the other side a pulley system connecting the two flag poles together began to rise also. It was not long before a small ferry came across to carry them over, held in a straight line by a system of ropes and pulleys. They quietly boarded with their horses in tow and the journey to the other side was made with more ease than you would expect, for something fighting such rushing waters. Once across Achil went to a nearby store to ask about crossing the Mountains.
An elderly chap with a wiry beard and squinty eyes stood behind the counter. He wore a long silken gown and was chatting to a gruff looking chap, who stood over him discussing the value of a pipe he wished to purchase. When they struck a bargain the man placed two silver coins into the store keepers palm and admiring his purchase, left pleased with his bargain.
“How can I help you sir.” The Old man came round the counter and started to rearrange some small sacks of seed that had fallen onto the floor.
“I’m looking to get across the mountains. I’m hoping you may know someone, a guide perhaps?”
The man stood up erect and lithe for someone of his age, though one hand did clutch at his back for extra leverage.
“I know several guides, that man that just left here was one. Tell me why cross the mountains by the old path, when you could just as easily take the Imperial Line which cuts right through. Apparently the carriage transports only come off the rails every now and then.” The man's voice had more than a hint of sarcasm about it, as if he understood exactly the reason why no one would want to chance the Carriage lines. “In my opinion for what it's worth, you’re wise to use the old ways. It may be quicker to go by rail but until they work out how to stop the metal lines from cracking and breaking up so easily, I won’t use them myself, let alone advise anyone else to use them.”
“Why do people use them then?” Achil began looking over some flints that the man had stored on the shelves.
“Because firstly for speed, let's be honest the route is a lot faster than the old paths. Secondly it’s a lot cheaper than having a guide and that is saying something. Thirdly people have to use them, as they carry freight and troops, and slaves. All packed as tightly as peas in a pod.”
“I’m curious how do they manage to go up hill?”
“That’s the ingenious part of it; they only travel for very short distances on an upward gradient, otherwise there always on the level. The lines have been cut through obstacles like hills and mountains. What they cannot go through, they go round. Or if there’s a large drop on route they build bridges for them to go over. They also use a new innovation, which is to power the wheels by steam. You’ve seen in one of the old market fares how someone powers the rotating ball by steam with two crooked nozzles on either end and it rotates at incredible speeds. The same principle apparently is used for the Carriages, though they still have to use slaves for the main work. Look I’ve got one of these fare ground toys over here. Someone had the great idea of adding some pumps to it. Attaching wheels, and suddenly you can move a carriage that hauls people and goods. The only problem is that they can only use the device over very short distances because it has the unfortunate problem of exploding when it gets too hot, hence the need to retain the slaves drive the carriages forward. And that’s h
ow they solved the problem of it travelling up hill over short distances at least.”
“You seem to know a lot about it.”
“That’s because troopers come in here half drunk and start talking about what’s going on. They don’t even realise I’m here most of the time.”
“Makes you wonder how far they might go then, with that steam machine of theirs.” Achil took some flints down from a shelf and went up to pay for them at the counter.
“Not far. Apparently Jin has taken it as far as he is willing to let it go at the moment. Otherwise it’s said he wouldn’t know what to do with all the slaves. There are two things that run this empire of ours; one is slavery, the other is the Guild Merchants and those two things are interconnected; they are the weight and the countermeasure of this great empire of ours. For that reason alone any progress with that machine will be halted.” The old man went behind the counter and took the money from Achil.
“Now if you come back here by say noon tomorrow. The guide I have in mind for you should have arrived back from their urgent business and will be free to accommodate you. No one ever dies with that one. Not the cheapest mind you, nor the most expensive but probably the best one around. As I say you should be across the Mountains without any fuss at all.”
“That’s great, thanks for your help.” Achil turned to leave.
“That’s a pleasure sir. Don’t forget your flints,” The man placed them in a small sack and handed them to Achil.
“I’ll forget my head one day, thanks again.”
“Well you know what we like to say in this part of the empire. Better to forget your head than lose it.”
“You're right, thanks again.”
Nishga and Andreas had tied the horses up and had gone for a bite to eat when Achil had entered the store. Nicholas had waited patiently outside for his return.
This small settlement was less cared for than the others they had seen. More worn, it was a stop off point for all sorts of travellers whether they were troops or merchants or just plain journeymen. The roads were not cobbled but bare, congealed coagulated tangled dried mud. There were only a few stores, two taverns and lines of long wooden shacks. It was not the most appealing of places, thrown up quickly by those who had built the Dam and the aqueducts. The shacks were probably used for barracking the slaves that had toiled night and day to get their masters work done. The mountain peeks rose above the small hamlet, if it could be called a hamlet at all. It was in a precarious position and in winter time could be swallowed up by an avalanche; in the summer by a land slide.
Achil noticed in the distance another settlement being built, it was further over on the other side of the Dam. It explained at least he thought why no effort had gone into the current commune. It had been erected without consideration for the inhabitants, whereas the other one would be a truer impression of the empire.