In the Earth Abides the Flame (31 page)

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Authors: Russell Kirkpatrick

Tags: #Fantasy, #Epic, #Suspense, #Fantasy Fiction, #Fiction

BOOK: In the Earth Abides the Flame
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Not a single life was lost west of the Gates.

Once out into the Central Plains, the Aleinus was ordinarily a wide, sluggish river, a tired, swollen thing resting from its labours among the mountains. The flood took some time to slow, but eventually did, becoming little more than a ripple followed by a colour change and mile after mile of debris. However, the broad river could not contain the sheer volume of water. Over its banks the flood poured, depositing silt on fields far and wide.

The Great Plains were fashioned like an enormous shallow-sided bowl. In the centre of the depression lay great marshes and huge lakes, and here the land was foul, allowing nothing to grow. This enormous bowl, named the Maremma, had a lip from which the water it contained would pour, and this lip was located near Plafond, the capital city of Deuverre. There was nothing on the ground to indicate why this should be so, as the gradient of the bowl was so slight as to be imperceptible. But if water was to escape the bowl, it had to do so at Plafond.

After many days of wandering through the Great Plains, the tame remnants of the once-mighty flood began to gather at Plafond, bringing much debris with them. Here, on the lip of the bowl, the bones of centuries-old trees from the steep slopes of Sivera Alenskja gathered, interlaced with smaller branches and driftwood accumulated on the long journey, and was cemented into place by the finest of the silt still not deposited by the river of rivers. A great wall was formed, only a few feet high but many miles wide; a dam that stretched right across the lip of the bowl, a barrier that held back both the waters of the flood and the not-inconsiderable late spring flow from the tributaries of the Aleinus. Included was the Branca, a mighty river in her own right that drained Asgowan, Haurn and the Borders to the far north.

The water began to bank up behind the dam; slowly, insidiously, inexorably; and little or no water passed through.

A few days' journey downriver from Plafond was Instruere, the city of cities, lying in the arms of the river of rivers.

I have been bested, the Arkhos of Nemohaim admitted to himself. Bested from the moment the foul Bhrudwan Deorc came to Faltha with his plan to gain rulership of Instruere.

What galled the Arkhos the most was that he himself was to blame. He had handed Instruere to Deorc. The claw of the Destroyer was about to close over the city, and squeeze him out in the process. But 1 can perhaps do a little squeezing of my own, the fat man vowed. Deorc will pay dearly for his presumption.

He had played the game by Bhrudwan rules, shady though they were, and had lost. Escaigne had slipped through his fingers in the presence of the Keeper of Andratan. He had foolishly gambled all, and now the Council would install this fool as their leader. In one sense the Destroyer would have Faltha without fighting for it, though there would undoubtedly be resistance . .. too little, too late. The Arkhos gnashed his teeth in frustration as he replayed the fantasy in his mind, the scene in which he, as Faltha's most powerful man, opened the Iron Door to the Destroyer and handed him the sceptre of the city. A few well-chosen words, filled with understatement, a dignified acknowledgement of the thanks due to him and an acceptance of the promised lieutenant's position. But that was all gone now. It was time to forget the rules, and fall back instead on the street-fighting skills he had learned in the slums of Bewray.

All that day and into the night the low dam held, and a small inland sea formed behind it.

Plafond itself was unaffected, being on a low hill a mile or so to the west of the dam, but many river people, fishermen, farmers and their families, evacuated the lowlands. Local officials, their hands full with the emergency, did not think to warn those downriver - or, if they did, they assumed someone else had already taken care of it.

Downstream of the dam, of course, the river of rivers simply dried up.

It was a matter of time and the sheer weight of water. The natural dam would have given way eventually anyway, but its demise was hastened by the late arrival of the whole trunk of a forest giant, plucked from its proud position at the entrance to Vulture's Craw by the tail end of the flood. It clattered into the dam, splintering and dislodging timber in its path. With something akin to a sigh the dam was parted, and with an irresistible force the water ripped through it.

It took Leith a long time, far too long, to revive his mother. It had been the work of a moment to free the members of the Company trapped in the Water Chamber, but Indrett had taken in some foul water and for a few fraught moments she stopped breathing. The Escaignian who had come with Leith cleared her air passages and she breathed again almost immediately, but did not regain consciousness.

'How long did the bald man give us?' Leith asked.

'An hour,' came the reply. 'I don't know how much of that is left.'

'Perhaps we can carry her,' Perdu suggested, anxiety imprinted on his friendly face.

'Better than waiting here,' Leith agreed. 'The tide is still rising.'

As they made to lift her she coughed, then opened her eyes to exclamations of relief from her companions. 'Where is the light?

Where is the light?' she asked, with something akin to regret, even desperation, in her voice.

'Just the sun coming through a hole in the roof,' Leith said. 'Can you walk? We have to leave here now.'

Indrett needed assistance to stand, let alone walk, and in spite of her best efforts she held up the progress of the Company. 'He said an hour,' Leith chafed. 'It must be all of that now since we left the others. Will he wait?'

The young Escaignian shrugged his shoulders. 'Maybe he will, maybe he will not. Who can say how any of us will act? None of us have been in this situation before.'

Phemanderac came up behind them. 'If we do not find a hiding place soon, we will be found by Escaigne or Instruere. I'm not sure which I'd rather have as a captor.'

'If you had seen the inside of The Pinion, you would not be so unsure,' Leith said grimly. 'But I would prefer to remain free. We may yet find worse captors than either. Certainly we will if we cannot prevent the Bhrudwans from taking Faltha.'

Leith had only a moment with Stella, but one glance was enough to know what had been kindled still burned. His heart leaped.

'Are you unharmed?' he asked her shyly.

'I'm all right,' she said. 'We haven't come this far together to fail now.' She reached out her hand and took his.

Leith nodded, though he was finding it impossible to think as her fingers closed around his.

'We must continue until we find the Jugom Ark at least.'

'Oh, Leith, will you always misunderstand me?' Stella wondered aloud.

'We must leave,' Mahnum said, bringing them back to the immediacy of their situation: they were still in danger.

'Then follow me!' the young Escaignian cried.

Out of the Water Chamber they ran, then ducked behind a row of buildings. To the left and to the right they went, time and again, trying to take the shortest route to the bald man and the rest of their companions without being seen, and with the added handicap of their Escaignian guide knowing the Docks little better than the Company. Down a narrow alleyway they went, only to freeze in their tracks when a brace of guards went running along the street at the far end. This held them up for precious moments, while Perdu, the quietest among them, ensured the way ahead was clear. They dashed across the open street, along and behind a row of low storage sheds similar to the one Foilzie owned in the city, and up another alleyway to emerge suddenly in the open space where they had left Kurr and the Haufuth in the care of the bald Escaignian. But their friends were no longer there.

'What now?' Leith asked the Escaignian.

'What now?' the other answered. His eyes flashed with casual mirth, a lightness incongruous with their desperate situation. 'That depends on your goal, does it not?'

'Our first goal is to remain uncaught,' said Farr tersely. Ever since they had left the Great Wood the old anxieties had come upon him again; by now he was stretched tight as a drumskin. 'Then perhaps we will be afforded the leisure to consider our next move.'

'No. Our first goal is to reunite with the others,' Leith stated firmly. 'The worst thing that could happen now is for us to be divided.'

'Then where have the others gone?' Perdu demanded. 'Surely this man must know where his master intended to take us!'

'I don't think even he knew,' the Escaignian admitted. 'But he would not go back into Instruere, that is for certain. Death awaits him there. Perhaps he seeks transport to take you all across the river and into Straux or Deuverre.'

'A boat! He must be looking for a boat! Or perhaps he found a hiding place here.' Leith considered a moment, no longer so certain. Or has he betrayed us?

As if in confirmation of his fears, an armed man strode into the space between the sheds. To Leith's relief this man greeted the Escaignian as a friend, and for a moment the two talked together in their own language. Then the young man with the fiery eyes turned to the Company. 'Follow me!' he said. 'Or, more correctly, follow him. We have found a boat capable of taking you across the Aleinus.'

With joy the Company was reunited. When it became apparent just how narrow the escape from the Water Chamber had been, everyone thanked the Escaignian for his help in rescuing them. 'Does this mean you can no longer go back to Escaigne?' Stella asked.

The young man shrugged his shoulders, as he seemed wont to do. 'I was getting sick of the darkness,' he said, making ready to leave them.

'What is your name?' Indrett asked, now fully recovered. 'Tell us, so we can thank you properly.'

'You ought rather to thank this one,' he said, indicating Leith. 'But for his persistence, you would have been left to your fate. But my name? You must know that in Escaigne all names are kept secret.'

'But this is not Escaigne!' cried Indrett.

'True, but it may be one day. Until that day, let it be enough that we are free.' He waved to them, then went off up the rutted road, following the others.

Now only the bald man remained with the Company. 'What of you?' Kurr asked him. 'Will you not come with us? I know your Presiding Elder, and alone of those here can guess your fate should Escaigne find you.'

The man shook his head sorrowfully, drips spraying from his hooked nose in the thick drizzle.

'I cannot go with you. I have family in Escaigne, nieces and nephews and two sons. I will not leave while any chance remains of seeing them again.'

'Then it remains only to thank you, bid you farewell and head for the south,' Kurr responded.

'Lead us to the boat.'

The bald man smiled. 'That I will do. We have been out in the open too long—'

A sound like someone striking a sack of corn, a wet thwack, pulled everyone's eyes towards the bald man, whose face registered surprise and shock. He took a step forward, then slumped to the ground, an arrow embedded deeply in his shoulderblade. As he fell, a second arrow flashed at chest height through the spot where he had been standing, grazing his head.

'Take cover!' Farr shouted, the first to come to his senses. 'There is an archer over to our left, up on the wall!'

The Company dived for shelter. Farr and Mahnum dragged the wounded man away from danger. 'The Guard!' Kurr hissed. 'We are discovered! How badly is the man hurt?'

'Not that badly,' the bald man himself answered, though in a voice tight with pain. 'I'll not die, though I'll not be going anywhere for a while either.'

'He was shot from the wall? It must be at least a hundred yards away.' Leith was puzzled.

'They don't wear their weapons as decoration, boy,' Kurr said. 'This is a dangerous place!'

Indrett went to inspect the arrow, but Farr said: 'Don't touch it! Don't draw it out! Leave it there for a while. It will prevent him bleeding more seriously. Hal - do you have any experience with this sort of wound?'

Hal examined the wound, and nodded. 'You have read it right,' he said to Farr. 'He should not be moved, but should be made comfortable until we can dig the arrow out.'

'We have no time for that,' Kurr told them urgently. 'They know where we are, and no doubt have dispatched a regiment to deal with us. We cannot remain here.'

'Then hide me in some dark corner and go to the boat,' said the bald man. 'They'll not do to me what they will do to you if you are found.'

'Then let me take care of you,' said a new voice. Leith and the others sprang up with surprise.

It was Foilzie.

'I told you to wait by the boat,' the bald Escaignian growled.

'My place is here, beside you,' Foilzie answered simply. 'A fat lot of good I'd do you down there.'

'Then do something about this prickle in my shoulder, would you, and stop jawing me to death.' His voice growled, but his face was bright.

Foilzie turned to the Company. 'Go on, off with you, down the lane there to the boat. You can't stop here; you're getting in my way.' And she turned her back on them and placed concerned hands on the bald, man's shoulder.

'Oh, Rubin,' she said quietly, as the others made a dash for the boat. 'What have we gotten ourselves into?'

'Come this way,' said Furoman, the personal secretary to the Appellant Division of the Council of Faltha, as he smiled his disconcerting smile. The Archivist shook his head slightly, wondering if he was doing the right thing, but followed anyway. Silently he rehearsed the speech he planned to make to Saraskar. This man Phemanderac has made subversive inquiries about the government of Faltha, and 1 have heard he is linked to the north' erners who are wanted for the debacle at The Pinion. I have infor' mation about this man that may be of assistance to you. Yes, that sounded good. He had to admit it, he was nervous at the prospect of facing a member of the Council of Faltha. Stories abounded of people going missing after dealing with the Council. Everyone knew the Council were not what they had been in ages past. Part of a necessary reorganisation, the Archivist told himself. Getting rid of kingships and the old feudal system, and introducing a new democracy based on election to the Council of Faltha. Well past time. Still, 1 wouldn't be here in this cursed city if it wasn't for my family.

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