A Shout for the Dead (75 page)

But first he had to be sure of something. He traced back north along
the energy lines. The world lay like a map before him. The thick grey
masses were the dead on Gestern's shore
s and sailing across the sea as
fast as vessels could be brought t
o them. The slow deep brown and
blue energies of the ocean that he used and refocused to bring life to
those inside the timbers of triremes. They weakened
every day they
were afloat. It drained him to keep t
hem going, drained the Karkulas
too.

North of Estorr and sailing towards Neratharn was a light so bright and so closed to him that it could only be one thing. The energy web that linked him to the dead picked it up and played it back to him. Strength set deep in the elements of the earth. Unwavering. A danger sign but one that surged through him with an orgasmic force.

No longer did they hide in the palace, awaiting their doom. They were coming for him.

'So much the better,' he said.

And he fell deep into himself and mulled over things that only Gods could understand.

Chapter Fifty-Two

859th cycle of God, 53rd day of
Genasrise

Estorr burned.

Marshal General Elise Kastenas rode out of the Victory Gates and down the cleared path through the crowds that had barely thinned over the last seven days. With her went two hundred cavalry and twenty wagons. The sun was hot in the afternoon and the city basked. Late genasrise was a magnificent season but none paused to look at the beauty all around them.

One route had been established between the palace and the dock. Lines of infantry behind wooden barriers and carrying shields and truncheons, gladiuses sheathed, held back crowds that lined the way. The cordon was established from the gates, all the way along the processional drive towards the arena, down the slope of the Del Aglios Way, skirting the forum, through a maze of narrow streets and out in front of the harbour barracks.

The narrower roads were simply closed to all traffic and only the pavements of the wider ways were left available. This latter because paralysing the city for those few still keen to go about their business was not an option, and because Herine Del Aglios still believed in the necessity for free demonstration.

Her patience, though, was wearing extremely thin.

'And she hasn't even ridden out here,' said Elise. 'Shields!'

The order passed quickly down the four abreast column. The barrage of rotten fruit, vegetables and fish flew out over the infantry line. Horses skittered, cavalry spat filth from their mouths. Cheers rang out when a direct hit was made on helm or face. And there was worse. Elise could smell it. She turned in her saddle and looked back. Two cavalrymen right behind her were wiping shit from their faces.

Ahead, flimsy sacks were thrown into their path and at the head of

the column, impacting wetly and spreading red across the road. 'Blood of the Chancellor!' 'Advocate murderers!'

Elise did the only thing she could reasonably do and upped her pace. 'Canter,' she ordered.

The column followed her lead gratefully. Shouts, taunts and hoots, even a few cheers, followed them along the processional. She kept her bearing proud and her face calm despite the emotions boiling inside. At the turning downhill into the guts of the city, she saw that the road name had been hacked away from the wall. Only the 'A' of Aglios remained. The statue which had carried the name had been defaced.

Through the tight streets, they endured water and slops from windows above their heads. Endless detritus slapped on shield, breastplate and horse. Placards were thrust in their faces. Messages that had been vaguely humorous in the first couple of days were now painted bold and red and were extremely direct.

Burn the Advocate.

Del Aglios wears God's blood.

Ascendants will be ashes.

The Order must rule.

The Conquord is finished.

Elise could see the smoke and flames more clearly now. The violence had been contained in the harbour quarter to a large extent. Fears of the dead arriving by ship and flooding the city from the seaboard had sparked vicious rioting. Citizens had been killed, palace guards among them. It had forced much of the first Estorean legion to secure the docks and pen the rioters into an area of warehousing and slums already dubbed the Corpse Quarter. There the Advocate had been happy to let them destroy as much as they wished. No one else-was allowed access. She hoped the fury would burn itself out, metaphorically and literally. Looking at the dozens of fires within the square half mile, Elise doubted it would happen any time soon.

And time was something that appeared to be in short supply. Industry had ground to a standstill. Order agitators had organised attacks on armouries and weapons manufacturers, denying supply to the legions, stopping deliveries to the field. A great deal of damage had been done before the areas were secured. The water supply to the palace had been disrupted, food deliveries were attacked and robbed.

All vital supplies were now guarded and secured. Pipes had been repaired and well stations guarded by archer and sarissa alike. But it had forced a dangerous thinning of the defence. The Armour of God, of course, knew it. They hadn't moved yet but it was surely just a matter of time. To do so would declare open rebellion and without a figurehead, even their ageing Prime Sword, Horst Vennegoor, would not take a chance.

Elise and her cavalry rode through the harbour security cordon and rattled to a stop on the wide apron that led away from the dockside. So far, the dock remained working and most of its employees still turned up. Many lived there, knowing that to go back to their houses meant intimidation. A stream of men and women with buckets and cloths ran up to help clean away the filth from rider and horse alike.

Dismounting, Elise nodded her thanks and strode to Harbour Master Stertius who waited by his offices. The harbour was open but was eerily quiet for the middle of the day, barring a hum from the dockside itself. Ships awaited goods that were not forthcoming from the city. And inward trade was piled up with nowhere to go. The forum was closed to merchants, transformed into a makeshift centre for the organisation of dissent; and the roads out of the city were blocked by demonstrators in more places than the Advocacy could properly cover.

'Marshal General, I'm honoured.'

'Master Stertius, the Advocate wishes to convey her personal thanks for your continued loyalty. And I needed to ride out here. Sometimes, the guiding hand must see at first hand what has only been reported.'

'Brave,' said Stertius.

Elise shrugged. 'Not really. The mood is ugly but they won't attack an armoured column.' ^Not yet.'

'What do you mean?' Elise didn't like the look on the master's face.

'Hold on a moment.' Stertius snapped his fingers and a man came trotting over. 'Let's get those wagons loaded and turned. And find the cavalry something to eat and drink if they feel clean enough.'

He gestured for Elise to walk with him and she fell into step as they walked across the apron and out on to the dockside. It was heaving with ships and sailors. They lounged on deck or sat on the concrete sides playing dice, cards or just talking. The atmosphere wasn't unpleasant but it was plainly discontented.

'I'm a couple of days from closing the harbour to new traffic,' said Stertius. 'Every ship here is empty. No
one will leave because to do so
is ruin. But staying here means they cannot pay their crews and it won't be too long before trouble flares. We've enough food and drink for a while but it won't last.'

'You can't even get them to sail a couple of days north to Vettorum? Trade will be fine there.'

'But it's not Estorr, Marshal. The prices are not as keen. We can't force them away and most have unloaded. It's expensive to reload and profits are already squeezed. Yet that isn't why most won't actually go, though they won't openly admit it.'

'Ah,' Elise said.

'They're a superstitious lot. And we've had refugees in here the past couple of days as you know. The dead are on the sea. You think a sailor not in the Ocetanas has any interest in joining them?'

They walked on along the dock. Stertius paused to speak to reassure people that Elise's presence was evidence of a determination to ease the situation and ensure security. Elise related Karl Iliev's plans and the fact the entire fleet was at sea and patrolling was of both interest and comfort.

Stertius kept the smile on his face until they had walked the entire length of the dock to one of the harbour-mouth castles. There, he let it drop and Elise felt a tightness in her throat while they climbed the stairs to the artillery positions on the roof. The onagers were gleaming. Engineers were all over them, tightening, replacing, oiling.

Harbour guards saluted Elise but there was no pleasure in the greetings. Each and every one of them appeared strained. Scared, even. Stertius still didn't speak. Up on the flagpole, the green flag signifying message received was fluttering in the sea breeze. Stertius handed her a magnifier and pointed her towards a ship in the deep water, well outside of the harbour and casual sight.

Elise found it after a few moments flitting across open expanses of sea. She let the magnifier track up the mast to where two flags were flying. One, the mark of the Ocetanas. The other, the red, white and black crossed flag of quarantine. Elise lowered the magnifier and looked at Stertius.

'Kester Isle is lost?' she said, not believing it.

'Compromised at least. It was where Admiral Iliev was travelling. He could have reached there this morning. This is no trick. That ship out there will have received flagged, coded confirmation. They may not still be there but the dead have invaded Kester Isle. And every ship that comes into the harbour from now on will know it.'

'Dammit,' said Elise, knowing it was a totally inadequate response,
‘I
need to get back to the Advocate.'

'Yes, you do. I will not carry the flag because it will signal panic in the city.' Stertius mopped his brow. 'But I'm not going to be able to contain the news. The citizens will believe the sea defences compromised.'

'But it's a long way from that,' protested Elise.

'Absolutely true but then, the Ascendants didn't murder the Chancellor, did they? Think that matters? I get the mood of the city every day, Marshal, trust me. The Order can change it if they wish. We cannot.'

'All right. What will happen?'

Stertius smiled ruefully
and gestured at the harbour mout
h.

'This is the biggest hole in the city walls and two defensive forts are not going to be seen as enough. People aren't going to hang around to see if the dead can get in, they're going to head for anywhere they think is more secure. Many, maybe the majority, will either barricade themselves in their homes or run into the hills.

'But the Order are behind all this, Marshal. And they will get in the ears of everyone willing to hear. Right now, the citizens don't believe there is an invasion threat worth the name because the Order tells them there isn't. But with the simplest of nudges on their part, that could be made to change and we will all know where the most secure place in Estorr is, don't we?'

Elise swallowed on a dry throat.

'Can't you stop ships coming in? Keep the harbour closed?'

'I'll keep the secret as long as I can. But in the end, I cannot deny refugees landfall. Here, yes, on the fishing beaches north and south, no. Word will reach the citizenry. Look around you. All these men know. One loose word
...'

'How long do we have?'

'Better to tell the Advocate it is imminent. Could be an hour, could be five days. I have no real control, Marshal Kastenas. The next knock on her door might be the city populace wanting to come in and hide.'

'Then we should open the gates and let them in,' said Herine.

'What?' Vasselis gaped,
‘I
'm sorry, my Advocate but that is tantamount to suicide. For you, for me, for the Ascendancy.'

'I am sorry, Arvan but what are we if not the defenders of the citizenry?'

The basilica stage fell silent. Vasselis sat with Elise Kastenas and Marcus Gesteris on the benches normally reserved for Order dignitaries. Behind them, the business of administering the crisis went on unabated.

'And that is what we are doing. The navy is at sea, the armies are preparing at Neratharn. And the seat of government must remain secure.' Vasselis ignored the Advocate's sigh. 'And who will you let in and who will you exclude? Please, don't even entertain the possibility. The best defence of this city is to mobilise the citizenry on our side in support of the emergency measures we've so far been unable to implement.'