The Righteous Blade Read online

  The warlord woke suddenly from a troubled sleep.

  ‘Your pardon, sir,’ someone said, ‘but are you well?’

  Zerreiss sat up. His bedclothes were tangled, and the fur that covered him slipped from the camp bed. ‘Who’s there?’ he mumbled groggily.

  A lamp was lit, bathing the tent in a friendly orange glow. Sephor, the younger of his closest aides, blew out the taper. ‘It’s me, sir. Forgive the intrusion, but you cried out.’

  ‘I did?’

  ‘Several times.’

  He massaged the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. ‘I’ve no recollection of it. What did I say?’

  ‘Nothing I could make out, sir.’ Sephor was pouring a cup of water. ‘Or would you prefer wine?’ he asked.

  ‘No. Thank you, water will suffice.’ He accepted the cup and drained it. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘The dawn won’t be here for another two hours.’ He studied his master. ‘Are you all right, sir?’

  ‘I had a dream. It was unlike any I’ve had before.’

  ‘A dream? That’s not like you, sir.’

  ‘Even I can have dreams and be stirred by them, Sephor. The same as any other man.’

  ‘I meant I’ve not known your sleep disturbed like this before. We’re used to your dreams being waking ones. Those you put into practice. If you understand me, sir.’

  ‘I do.’ Zerreiss smiled at him. ‘And you put it well. But you’re right; it’s not like me to have dreams that rouse you from your bed. My apologies, Sephor.’

  ‘No need, sir. It’s what I’m here for.’

  The warlord shivered. ‘It’s chilly.’

  ‘I’ll stoke the brazier.’ He busied himself feeding the fire.

  ‘Do you have dreams, Sephor? Silly question, of course you do. I mean, do you have dreams that make an impression on you, and linger after you wake?’

  ‘I suppose I do, sometimes. But they tend to be nightmares rather than dreams. Was yours a nightmare, sir?’

  ‘That’s a good question.’ Zerreiss pondered it. ‘Some say dreams are just meaningless dramas played out in our minds as they wander unfettered in sleep. Others think there are gods who send us dreams as omens or portents of things to come.’

  ‘What do you think, sir?’

  ‘I think there might be another kind.’

  ‘I don’t understand, sir.’

  ‘I’m not sure I do either, Sephor. But the dream I had tonight has left me with a very distinct feeling.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘There’s somebody I need to find. If he exists.’

  24

  ‘Kutch. Kutch! Wake up!’

  ‘Uh. Hmm?’

  Serrah shook him. ‘Come on! Wake up. Kutch!’

  His eyes snapped open. Even in the gloom she could see he looked terrified.

  ‘You were shouting,’ she said.

  He sat up, then moved to her like a frightened child, hugging her tightly. She felt him trembling.

  ‘Whoa. It’s all right,’ she soothed. ‘I’m here. It’s all right.’

  ‘Oh, Serrah.’

  ‘What was it, a nightmare?’

  ‘It…it was…’ His voice wavered, as though he were near to tears.

  ‘Breathe. Go on, take some deep breaths.’ She gently stroked his hair. ‘It’s all right now.’

  ‘It wasn’t a…nightmare.’

  ‘Was it another of those visions? Like the ones Reeth has?’

  He nodded.

  ‘It’s gone now. You’re safe.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He disentangled himself, looking embarrassed. His eyes were moist. ‘I’m sorry, Serrah.’ He swallowed. ‘You must think I’m a terrible baby.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course I don’t. Let’s have some light, shall we?’ She leaned over and snapped her fingers at the glamour orb by his bed. It began emitting a soft glow. ‘Better?’

  He nodded again, starting to pull himself together.

  ‘Here.’ She handed him a tumbler. ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘It’s…difficult to explain.’ He took a sip of water. ‘It wasn’t like the other visions I’ve had.’

  ‘How was it different?’

  ‘Before, it wasn’t in dreams. I saw things when I was awake. When I was spotting. But it was different in other ways, too.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I saw…it was another place, like the times before. Only it wasn’t the same place. There was snow, and a war or something. And there was a man…or maybe two men, and…It was all mixed up, Serrah.’

  ‘Take it easy.’

  ‘At least this looked like somewhere that could exist. The other times, it was a strange place. Really scary.’

  ‘Perhaps it was just a dream. An ordinary nightmare. That’s possible, isn’t it?’

  ‘No. It was too real. Dreams aren’t like this. It had the same…feel as before.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t explain.’

  ‘You don’t have to try. Not now.’

  ‘I haven’t had any of these visions for a while, and I thought…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought that because Reeth wasn’t here…’

  ‘You wouldn’t get them?’

  ‘Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But because I was seeing the same thing he does, I thought it was him doing it somehow.’ He sniffed and gave a crooked smile. ‘As if you could catch dreams the way you caught a fever or something.’

  ‘That’s no crazier than any other explanation I can think of. Reeth’s been seeing these things for years and he can’t figure it out himself.’

  ‘I don’t want them coming back, Serrah. They frighten me.’

  ‘I know. Look, lie down again. Get some rest.’

  ‘You won’t leave me?’

  ‘No, I’ll be right here.’

  The sun was getting ready to come up. Through the room’s half-open window shutter she could see a gash of red on the horizon.

  When he seemed calmer, she said, ‘I was talking to Karr today. About the move to the isle.’ She kept her tone light, conversational.

  ‘Did he have any news about Reeth?’

  ‘No, not yet. But he did say that he’s thinking of asking him to stay on there, at least for a while.’

  ‘Why? I thought he was coming straight back.’

  ‘That was the plan. But Karr needs somebody like Reeth, somebody he can trust, to train people to defend the island. Now we know there are pirates out there, it’s a good idea.’

  ‘What do you think Reeth will say?’

  ‘I don’t know. Karr hasn’t asked him yet. He’s going to send him a message glamour about it. To be honest, Kutch, I wish Reeth would stay over there. Now the paladins are saying he killed their chief, I think it’s better for him to be away from Bhealfa.’

  ‘What about the expedition to find the Clepsydra?’

  ‘It wouldn’t affect that. Karr told me it could just as easily go from the island. It might be easier, actually, with all the paladin activity here.’

  His face fell. ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘Karr said something else. He said, if I wanted to, I could go to the island too, to help Reeth.’

  ‘Will you?’

  ‘If Reeth decides to stay there, yes, I’d like to. I didn’t go with the band in the first place because…well, originally because Karr didn’t want me to. He thought I was too unstable, and he was right. But I’m getting over that. Then I thought I’d better stay because of Tanalvah, but she seems to be holding up pretty well. She’s found a strength from somewhere, and there are lots of people looking out for her now. And frankly, Kutch, I’m a doer. I like being where the action is. There’s work to be done here, sure, but it’s kind of routine and–’

  ‘You want to be with him, don’t you?’

  An expression came to Serrah’s face Kutch hadn’t seen before. She looked almost shy. Her face coloured slightly and there was a sparkle in her eyes. ‘It’s only been a few
days, but…I miss him being around. I expect you think that’s stupid.’

  ‘No! I think it’s great. Only…what about me?’

  ‘Oh, Kutch. As if I’d…I promised Reeth I’d look after you, and I’m not going back on that. What I’m saying is, I rather hoped you’d come too.’

  ‘Me? Come with you? Yes!’ He punched the air.

  ‘I’ll take that as an acceptance, shall I?’

  ‘I don’t want to stay here by myself, and we’d be going to the Diamond Isle eventually anyway, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘I’m not trying to put a damper on it or anything, but you might like to think this through, Kutch. You could stay here, if you wanted, and Karr and the others would make sure you were all right. Plus, I won’t lie to you, it could be dangerous.’

  ‘I want to go, and if things get chancy I’d rather be with you and Reeth.’

  ‘Would it be all right with Phoenix?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t it be? He’s not my master. Not really.’

  ‘There’s one other thing. It’s all right for me to go off where I please, and the same applies to Reeth. Bhealfa isn’t my home. Nowhere is, now that I can’t go back to Merakasa. But you were born in Bhealfa; your roots are here.’

  ‘I made up my mind about that when I first heard Karr’s plan. I knew that if I was asked to go, I would. There’s nobody here for me now.’

  ‘All right, if you’re certain. I’ll talk to Karr about how we’re going to handle it. But don’t get too excited. Reeth might say no and come back, as he intended.’

  ‘In which case he’d still be around, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he would.’ She smiled. ‘Feeling better?’

  ‘Lots.’

  The rising sun sent bars of golden light into the room.

  ‘Here,’ Serrah said, handing over a warm, freshly baked loaf.

  ‘Hmmm. Smells great.’ Kutch tore off a chunk and began chewing.

  ‘Straight from the ovens upstairs. Hiding under a bakery has a few advantages.’ She sat by him and helped herself to some. Kutch seemed so much more cheerful than she was afraid he might be after last night’s drama.

  It was nearly midday, and with the move looming, the Resistance’s cellar den was busier than ever. There were fifty or sixty people working there, and the place was stacked with crated provisions ready for shipping.

  ‘We’ll talk to Karr in a minute,’ Serrah told him. ‘Before that I’d like to have a word with Tan.’ She nodded to the area where a dozen people were assembling small glamour munitions. Tanalvah was seated at the end of a bench, slightly apart from the other workers, engrossed in her chores.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Kutch replied, his mouth full. ‘I’ve got enough to keep me busy here.’ He had crumbs round his lips and speckling his shirt.

  ‘So I see. Back soon.’

  She headed Tanalvah’s way, only to be intercepted by the matronly figure of Goyter. ‘If you’re thinking of joining Tanalvah, young lady, you’ll need these.’ She held out an apron and a pair of white gloves.

  ‘I don’t intend handling anything, Goyter.’

  ‘Humour me.’ She thrust the gloves and apron at her.

  Serrah quickly put them on. As she walked away she smiled and said, ‘Thanks for the “young lady”.’

  She arrived at Tan’s side. ‘Can I join you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Serrah took a seat. ‘What’s that?’

  Tanalvah was using a little scoop to carefully transfer a heap of rust-coloured powder into paper twists.

  ‘Dried dragons’ blood. I don’t know if that’s actually what it is or if it’s just what they call it. Were there ever really such things as dragons? I don’t know.’

  ‘Me neither. What does it do?’

  ‘It ignites when it comes into contact with water. But only salt water, apparently. The paper we wrap it in dissolves in water after a few minutes. Use enough powder and you’ve got an explosion.’

  ‘Useful. I can see the need for gloves.’

  ‘Yes. Get just a speck of this stuff wet and it goes off with quite a bang.’

  ‘So, how are you finding working here, Tan?’

  Tanalvah stopped what she was doing. ‘It keeps me busy. I’m grateful for that.’

  ‘You don’t find it a bit…’

  ‘Menial? Boring? What else can I do, Serrah? Whoring skills aren’t greatly in demand with the Resistance.’ Had her tone not been light, the words would have sounded bitter. ‘Actually, there’s a possibility I might be assigned to the counterfeit magic division, helping to raise funds. If I can sell my body I should be able to peddle cheap love potions.’

  ‘Everyone’s been treating you well?’

  ‘They’ve been very good. Quinn tends to avoid me, but that’s understandable. We’ve got a rota going for looking after the children, too.’

  ‘And you’re feeling all right? Be honest; are you coping?’

  ‘Don’t look so sombre. What you’re seeing is more or less how I feel.’

  Serrah wasn’t entirely convinced of that. ‘It’s only been a couple of days, Tan. Sometimes the full effect of these things takes a while to–’

  ‘I told you; I know it’s going to be all right. I can feel it, here.’ She laid her palm over her heart.

  Serrah nodded. She reckoned Tanalvah was taking refuge in self-deception. But she was loathe to question something that seemed to be working.

  ‘I know why you’re asking, Serrah.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Karr sounded me out. About you going to the Diamond Isle, and what I thought about it.’

  ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘That you should go if you want to. There’s no need to linger here on my account.’

  ‘I’d stay, Tan, if you wanted me to.’

  ‘I know you would, and I’m grateful.’

  ‘Anyway, it’s not certain yet. We still have to hear what Reeth thinks about it.’

  ‘You want to be with your man. I understand that.’

  ‘Slow down. Reeth and I aren’t a couple or anything. I just–’

  ‘Let’s not worry about words. You need to do a certain thing because your instincts tell you it’s right. That should be enough.’

  ‘It seems so unfair, when you can’t be with Kinsel.’

  ‘But I believe I will be. No, don’t give me that look, Serrah. I mean in this life. I’m not planning to leave it just yet.’

  ‘Good. And remember that I’m only going ahead. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.’

  ‘Gods willing.’

  ‘Yes. Look, Karr’s waiting to talk to me. If I go, I’ll see you before we leave.’ She leaned over and kissed Tanalvah’s cheek, then left her.

  Serrah took off the apron and gloves, dropped them on a chair and beckoned Kutch over.

  The patrician sat at a desk at the far end of the cellar, sorting through piles of documents.

  ‘I’ve made up my mind,’ Serrah told him. ‘If Reeth decides to stay on the island, I’ll join him. Kutch wants to go, too.’

  ‘You’re happy about this, Kutch?’

  ‘Yes. I’d like to be with Reeth.’

  Karr nodded. ‘It’s dependent on what he says, of course, but I’ve already sent a message. So hopefully we’ll have a reply soon.’

  ‘He should be arriving at the island any time now, shouldn’t he?’ Serrah asked.

  ‘Depending on the tides, yes.’ He jabbed a thumb at the mass of papers covering his desk. ‘I’m just arranging another shipment of men and arms. With a bit of luck you two could be on it. You’ll be a great asset to us over there, Serrah.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll do my best.’

  ‘About Tanalvah…’

  ‘I was just about to mention her myself.’

  ‘She’ll hold together, you think?’

  ‘She says she will, and she seems to be functioning fairly well. I don’t know how much of it’s a sham.’

  ‘I can’t tell either. I’ll see she�
�s kept occupied, and of course we’ll keep an eye on her.’

  ‘She has this belief that Kinsel’s going to be all right. There’s nothing rational about it, but it’s become a sort of credo for her.’

  ‘I won’t try to disillusion her. We all need something to hang onto when times are dark.’

  ‘They must be dark as hell for Kinsel. I wonder what he’s holding onto.’

  25

  Kinsel Rukanis was astonished at how quickly he lost his grip on the passing of time.

  His captivity had lasted only days, perhaps a week, yet it could have been years. His existence was almost entirely restricted to the paltry light below decks, and he rarely knew the difference between day and night.

  The labours of the condemned were unceasing, bar when they were taken aft to perform their bodily functions in a squalid, stinking privy. Rest meant dozing fitfully at their oars, too weak and apathetic to care about the rats scurrying around their feet. Seldom were they allowed the luxury of a few hours’ sleep on the flea-ridden straw in the hull’s cells. Their hands were blistered. The fetters left weeping sores on their wrists and ankles. They were given bad food and not enough of it, and water that was barely drinkable. And all the while they had to endure exhaustion’s handmaiden, brutality.

  Kinsel had already seen two of his fellow convicts die. One collapsed at his oar and only after beatings and a dousing failed to stir him was it found that his heart had burst. The other was accused of some small infraction of the rules and died under the lash. Both bodies were unceremoniously dumped overboard.

  But there was something even more shocking to Kinsel. For the first time in his life, and to his shame, he felt a hatred of another human being so intensely that the prospect of murder looked attractive. The object of his malice was the overseer. Kinsel had never known a man so lacking in common decency. His only pleasure was to inflict suffering on his helpless charges. If he smiled it was because of another’s pain. For Kinsel, who had always believed in at least the possibility of redemption for even the basest, this was profoundly depressing.

  He was determined to maintain his pacifism. To weaken on it would be too great a sacrifice of his principles. But the overseer knew Kinsel’s reputation as a man of peace, and made it his business to break his will. So far, his weapon had been ridicule, backed by the whip.