Patris and Lyall exchanged a look. Then Patris signalled to the others in his group and they filed out.
When they had gone, Alondo turned to Lyall. “You had him eating out of your hand.”
Lyall laughed. “I just played on his weak spot–money. Besides, I think he enjoys the thought of taking the Prophet’s forces down a peg. I just needed to show him a way of doing that without risk to his own people.”
Shann had a serious look. “You realise this may be a trap.”
“You’re right, it may,” Lyall said. “However, I don’t think we have much of a choice.” Shann saw the resolve in his eyes. No, I don’t suppose that you do. “Shann and I are the only ones who can get to the upper floor without having to go in the front door, so we will be the ones to free Keris.”
“What do you want me and Boxx to do?” Alondo asked.
Lyall put his arm around Alondo’s shoulders. “I’m glad you asked that. I have a special job for you, my friend.”
~
Ail-Mazzoth lay low in the west, casting a ruddy glow over the rooftops of the port city. Sounds of merrymaking drifted up from the various hostelries, as clothier and baker, seaman and sail maker, raised a stoup to one another’s health. In an alley to the rear of the safe house, hidden deep in the shadows, two cloaked figures were crouched down side by side, waiting.
A shout…then another. Not the sounds of casual revelry. These were cries of alarm. Patris’ little diversion was underway. Time to move.
Lyall and Shann moved stealthily along the alley until they were directly beneath the building where Patris had indicated that Keris was being held. The edifice rose before them, indomitable like a sheer cliff face, punctuated by lit windows at regular intervals. Four storeys. It would take a considerable leap to reach the uppermost level. Following the battle with the Kharthrun serpent, Shann understood the basic concept of co-operative mechanics. If they timed it correctly…
Shann made eye contact with Lyall, who nodded to her. Bending her knees, she jumped, using a weak natural source. She felt a rush of air behind her; then a crushing downward pressure on the refined lodestone in her cloak’s mechanism. She was slammed towards the ground. The natural deposit barely slowed her descent and she landed hard, barely managing to stay upright. How about next time I do that to you?
She peered upwards to see a hunched form on the roof and a rope snaking down to meet her. Shann wrapped the rope around her hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. As she reached the uppermost level, she passed a darkened window. Her feet found the ledge. She signalled to Lyall and the rope went slack.
With one hand, Shann held on to the casement and with the other hand, she reached inside a pouch, feeling the resistant pull of an oval shaped lodestone, dark as night. She held the stone against the window just as Lyall had instructed her earlier, and moved it in an upward motion towards the inside latch. After a couple of failed attempts and a rising sense of frustration, Shann heard the dull scrape of iron against iron as the latch was pushed upwards.
The freed window moved outward imperceptibly. As Shann pulled it all the way open, her other hand moved instinctively towards the staff at her back–Keris’ staff. As usual, the woman had taken her flying cloak with her, but had left her staff back at the Calandra.
As they were getting ready to leave, Lyall had handed it to her. “To replace your broken one.”
Shann stared at it as if it were about to turn into a serpent and bite her. “She would not let me take this.”
Lyall smiled. “You didn’t take it–I did. Don’t worry, Shann. If there is one thing Keris understands, it’s necessity.” I hope you’re right.
The room beyond the window was silent, swathed in shadow. Shann nimbly slipped inside. A moment later, Lyall’s feet appeared in the window frame and she helped pull him in.
Lyall took the lead, moving to a door set in the far wall. He opened it a crack. Artificial light washed into the room. It was largely empty, apart from a cabinet against one wall and a few packing cases. Lyall opened the door wider. The corridor was empty. She followed him out into the hallway. They followed the passageway as it bore to the left, passing a stairwell which led down to the floor below. All was quiet. At the first intersection, Lyall held up his hand and peeked around the corner. He stepped back and touched her arm to get her attention, holding up two fingers. Two guardians. They might just as well have put a sign over the door. He mouthed the words, “Follow my lead,” waited until she nodded once, then rounded the corner confidently with Shann in tow.
The two guardians were clad in light serge, with short blades at their sides. They fingered the hilts and shuffled their feet nervously as the cloaked figures approached. Lyall’s instructions earlier that evening came back to her. “Use the wood and the flat of the blade.” It was a euphemism for the employment of non-lethal skills. She could just imagine what Keris would have to say about that. Still, these were obviously not Chalimar-trained soldiers; they were locally recruited grunts. With luck, their wits would be as dull as their blades.
Lyall stopped in front of the guardians and assumed an authoritative air. “We wish to interrogate the prisoner. Stand aside.” It was a calculated gamble. The flying cloaks Lyall and Shann wore were not only a tool; they were a symbol of authority. But would these men’s fear of the Keltar be sufficient to overcome their natural suspicion? Shann felt her body tense. The next few moments would be critical.
The guardian on the left had an older weather-beaten face, like a man who had spent too many days at sea. His eyes narrowed. “The prisoner was returned from interrogation only a short while ago. Our orders are that no-one be allowed in to see her without Girmala’s express permission.”
Lyall stood his ground. “We are sent by Girmala. There is some information she provided that he wishes to clarify.”
“Girmala sent you, Keltar?”
“You doubt my word?”
“No–no of course not.” His tone suddenly changed. “Forgive me, Lord.” He sounded solicitous–too solicitous. “Do you wish us to accompany you or shall we–”
In a split second, Shann saw the steel in the man’s eye. The subtle shift of balance onto the balls of his feet. The barest twitch of his fingers on the hilt of his blade. Suddenly, Keris’ staff was in her hand like a living thing, its movement a blur, faster than thought. The wood impacted against the guardian’s temple and he dropped like a sack of moba root. She shifted her attention towards the younger slender-faced, dark-eyed guardian, but Lyall’s staff was already in motion. He swung it with great force at the youth’s midriff. The youngster doubled up as every ounce of breath was forcibly expelled from his lungs. A moment later, Lyall brought the staff down on the back of his head. The boy fell to the ground face down and did not move. Lyall looked over at Shann, his brow knotted.
“He was going for his weapon,” Shann explained.
An odd flicker passed over Lyall’s face. “The key?”
Shann sheathed the staff and ran her hand over the guardian’s serge until she felt an irregular shape. “Got it.” She handed the large flat key to Lyall who opened the door. They quickly dragged the supine forms inside.
Shann peered into the dimly lit room. It was featureless save for a pallet in the far corner. As she moved towards the pallet, she saw a figure lying motionless. A figure in a dark suit, with long black hair. Keris. Shann bent over her and felt the warmth of her olive skin, a faint breath of air from her nostrils. “She’s alive.” As she examined the woman she realised with a jolt that the side of her face was badly bruised and swollen and there were contusions on her forehead and neck, smeared with drying white blood. What have they done to you?
Keris opened her eyes slowly and looked up at Shann. Her expression turned to disbelief. “You.”
Shann’s feelings of pity began to evaporate. Maybe we should just leave you here.
Lyall appeared behind her. “Keris, are you all right? Can you move?”
With
some effort, Keris propped herself up on her elbows. “I’ll manage.” Her voice sounded thick in her mouth. Shann helped Keris to her feet. She unsheathed Keris’ diamond bladed staff and handed it to her. Keris’ right hand was covered with a makeshift bandage ripped from her own clothing. Dried blood had seeped through. Shann wanted to ask her what happened but was gagged by the bile rising in her throat.
The solidness of Keris’ staff seemed to strengthen her, and she drew herself erect. She moved stiffly over to where the guardians lay and knelt next to the younger one, grabbing him with her unbandaged hand and shaking him by the scruff of the neck. He came to, groggily. Her voice rasped. “My things. Where are they?”
The guardian pointed. “Two doors down. Don’t–” Keris cuffed him back to silence. They exited the detention room. Lyall locked it behind them and led the way down the corridor. Stopping at the designated room, Lyall listened; then tested the door. It was unlocked. They slipped inside. The room was dimly lit, with a table at the centre and an assortment of cabinets lining the walls. Lyall watched the door while Keris and Shann began lifting lids and rifling through drawers. “Hurry it up,” he hissed.
Shann glanced across at the other woman, taking in the extent of her injuries, the way she winced when her body turned a certain way. She realised that her sense of shock derived not just from the damage done to Keris but the damage done to her own expectations. Ever since the Keltar had appeared in their path on the highway outside Gort, Shann had been convinced that she was the enemy. Keltar are the eyes and ears of the Prophet–everyone knew that. Later on the Eastern Plains, when she caught Keris using the Speaker Ring, there seemed no room for doubt. The timing of the woman’s ‘kidnap’ the night before their departure seemed altogether too perfect. Shann had fully expected to find a trap waiting for them. Now, seeing firsthand the abuse meted out to her by the agents of the Prophet, brought Shann face to face with a jarring thought–could I have been wrong about her all along?
“Here it is.” Keris extracted her pack from a small chest. She pulled out the flying cloak and cast it about her shoulders, fumbling one-handed. Shann went over and helped her secure the neck clasp. As their eyes met, Shann searched the other woman for answers. The side of her face was puffy and one eye was partly closed, but there was the same angular nose and lean features–the same black eyes, hard as diamonds and just as unfathomable. “Thank you.” Keris’ voice held an edge of concealed pain.
“All right, let’s move.” Lyall opened the door a crack; then motioned for the others to follow. Retracing their steps, they turned the corner and passed the stairwell. Footsteps and agitated voices from the floor below. The creak of heavy boots ascending the stairs. Lyall urged the two women forward. “Get out of here, now.”
“What are you doing?” Shann hissed.
“I’ll try and slow them down. Move.”
No. Shann’s protest died on her lips as she realised with a sickening feeling that she had no staff with which to fight. She could not ask Keris for hers back–the older woman was leaning heavily on it, barely able to stand. Flushed with anger at her own impotence, Shann turned and headed for the room at the rear of the building where she and Lyall had entered earlier. Keris hobbled along in her wake. Shouts of surprise and anger. Shann checked over her shoulder and was granted a vision of Lyall, feet firmly planted, staff held out defensively against an onrush of attackers. She reached the door and held it open for Keris. “In here,” she called, a little too harshly. Keris, who seemed to be expending every ounce of willpower in just keeping moving, obeyed without comment or argument.
Shann dashed to the open window and climbed onto the ledge. Grabbing the rope, she turned back to address Keris. “Wait here.” As she abseiled down the side of the building, her only thoughts were of Lyall. Stay alive. Her boots settled down onto the hard packed dirt of the alleyway. She released the rope and flared both the bronze and upper lodestone layers of her cloak. As she looked up, Keris’ head appeared at the window. “Jump,” Shann commanded.
She watched as Keris climbed awkwardly onto the window sill, opened her cloak and stepped into empty air. Shann felt the sudden pressure on her shoulders, as Keris used the lodestone in Shann’s cloak to slow her descent. The tall woman touched down beside her, and Shann saw her shoulders sag. Shann fixed her eyes once more on the upstairs window, looking for signs of Lyall. Come on… Moments stretched and attenuated into spans. Keris stood beside her and sighed.
You would abandon him again, wouldn’t you? Just as you did in the Pits. “We are not leaving without Lyall.”
“I had no intention of doing so,” Keris said. No. Of course you didn’t.
There was a commotion from above. Suddenly a dark silhouette launched itself from the window. Shann felt a downward push once again as Lyall dropped towards them, framed by the crimson night sky. He landed lightly. Above them, figures at the window scanned the alley below.
“Let’s go.” Lyall led the way as they rounded the building and came out onto the main thoroughfare. A knot of people were gathered up the hill, still preoccupied by the mysterious fire at the blacksmith’s shop. The party set off in the opposite direction, down the hill towards the docks. Shouts behind them. Shann glanced back as an armed group spilled out onto the street and started after them. There were no Asoli anywhere nearby–by accident or design? There was no time to speculate. Keris was doing her best to keep up, but it was apparent that she was struggling. Lyall grabbed her arm, pulled it around his shoulder and propelled them both forward.
As they reached a crossroads, Shann looked over her shoulder once more. The others were gaining on them. They would catch them before they reached the docks for certain. An odd roaring sound. All of a sudden, a large cart trundled out of the side street and onto the intersection. The cart held barrels of pitch. They were on fire. The cart skidded to a halt and barrels dislodged themselves, bursting and spreading burning tar over the cobbles. At the same moment, three figures jumped from the buckboard; one a strange shelled creature, one in a light blue dress and short fair hair, the last with a round face, topped off with an absurd red cap. Alondo, Oliah and Boxx hurried to catch up to them.
“How’d we do?” Alondo asked Lyall.
Behind them, the pursuers had been stopped dead in their tracks by the flaming barrier. The shouts had risen in pitch to cries of anger and alarm. “Well done, indeed. Let’s hope that holds them for a while.”
They hurried past deserted stalls and shadowed doorways, finally bursting out onto the open wharf. The sky above the rooftops to the west was lightening with the promise of dawn. Annata’s Reach lay alongside two square rigged caravels, like a small child flanked by parents that towered over it. At the top of the gangway, Patris was beckoning to them urgently.
Lyall supported Keris up the gangway. Shann embraced Oliah and they held on to each other for a long moment. Shann felt the tears welling up in her eyes and let them flow. They released each other and Oliah embraced Alondo. He whispered something in her ear and she buried her head against his shoulder. Boxx stood on its hind limbs, head cocked to one side, and watched them curiously.
Patris called out from the top of the gangway. “Come on. They’ll be here any moment. We have to leave.”
Alondo released Oliah, reached out and brushed her face with the back of his hand. “Get away from here, quickly.”
She smiled through her tears and touched his cheek in return. The Speaker Ring was visible on her finger. “I’ll be fine. Be well. You too, dear sister.”
“I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble,” Shann promised.
Alondo and Shann tore themselves away and ran up the gangway, Boxx scampering behind them. Shann glanced back in time to see Oliah slipping into the entrance of a building adjoining the wharf area, seeking a safe vantage point from which to watch the ship’s departure. When will I see you again, my sister?
As they reached the foredeck, Patris cut the ropes securing the gangway. It fell i
nto the water with a satisfying splash. Lyall was already at the cathead, hacking with his diamond bladed staff at the hawser which secured the ship to the dock. After a few strokes it was severed and the ship floated free.
“Grab a pole,” Patris called to Alondo and Shann. They followed Patris’ lead as he and Lyall picked up one long oar between them, while she and Alondo hefted the other. They manhandled their oars on either side of the bowsprit and shoved off from the dock. They heaved together. Slowly, the ship began to back out from its mooring, slipping past the hulls of its larger neighbours until there was clear water on either side. Patris went to the stern and pulled the rudder hard over. The small ship began to turn until its prow was pointing out to sea.
“Where did Keris go?” Shann asked Lyall.
“She’s in the stern. Boxx is caring for her. She is badly injured, Shann.”
Shann felt sick at the injuries inflicted on the older woman. But that did not change who and what she was. She may have turned against her former masters but that did not absolve her from the crimes she had committed, not as far as Shann was concerned. Can you bring back the people you sent to the ore camps to die? Can you bring back my mother and father? No. I risked my life to rescue you. But don’t expect any sympathy.
Patris fixed the rudder in place and hastened down the ladder to the deck. Making his way to the single mast, he scuttled up the rigging. Lyall, Shann and Alondo descended the forecastle to the deck and gazed up in fascination as he bent over the yard and untied the sail.
“He’s not going to ask me to go up there, is he?” Alondo asked nervously.
Shann looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t think Oliah would let you go.”
“She doesn’t tell me what to do,” Alondo protested.
“No,” Shann smiled a secret smile. “Of course not.”
Patris slid down the rigging to the deck beside them. His eyes shone and he looked as if he was in his element. “Time to make sail. Let’s haul on the halyards.” They looked at each other blankly. “The ropes here,” he indicated, “and here.” Shann and Alondo took up a rope obediently and Lyall and Patris grabbed the other one. “Now, pull together.” They hauled on the ropes and watched the sail unfurl. The canvass flapped in the offshore breeze, then filled out. As they tied off the lines, the ship began to pick up speed, cutting a smooth wake through the still waters of the harbour. Patris smiled encouragingly. “We’ll make a crew out of you yet.”