Stranger of Tempest: Book One of The God Fragments (30 page)

While mage-guns could wreak terrible destruction, beyond a certain size of cartridge they tended to explode inside the gun upon firing. Instead, clay balls clad in iron were made with glass cores that ranged from the size of an apple to a man’s torso – the former hurled by grenadiers, the latter by huge catapults, and all charged with magic that would be unleashed upon impact.

They were monstrously destructive, but volatile too. Legend spoke of the city called Uttaranash to the south that more than a hundred years ago had been struck by a powerful earthquake. There had been four deep armouries beneath the city. Now there was only a crater.

‘Mount up!’ Uvrel roared, startling her dragoons into movement. ‘Those mercenaries murdered an ally of the Knights-Charnel, and they have killed soldiers of our own Order! We will have their heads and drag the assassin back for questioning or we’ll die trying.’

She swung herself up into her saddle, a surge of strength filling her limbs as her mission took on a deadly clarity. ‘Do not spare the horses. We must catch them before they reach their comrades. Our Lord Insar, Wielder of Silent Justice, demands this insult to his will be met with righteous punishment! Will you fail your god?’

‘No, Exalted!’ the dragoons roared back.

Uvrel slammed her heels into her horse’s flanks and it surged forward to the head of the column, her troops soon racing to keep up.

It was well into the morning before Lynx saw the red and blue of the mercenary company’s wagons up ahead. Despite being far from safe he still felt a sudden upwelling of relief at the sight. The faces of the others told a similar story. In the daylight they were a bedraggled lot, exhausted and soaked by the persistent bouts of rain that had fallen throughout the dawn hours. Safir was flagging badly, head bowed and body swaying with his horse’s movement, while the strain was clear on the faces of Sitain and Toil in particular.

‘We making a stand?’ Lynx asked as they urged their horses into a final burst.

All of them were labouring hard. Lynx could feel his current mount’s lungs working like bellows beneath him. Just ahead of him Reft’s horse looked half-dead, despite the man changing mount every hour. The pale giant’s bulk was simply too great for any animal to carry at speed for long. Lynx guessed the man was easily double Sitain’s weight and they were all pushing their horses harder than the livery stable’s owner would want, but they weren’t returning to Grasiel any time soon.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ Toil replied before Anatin could. ‘Didn’t you see their uniforms at the gate? The red collars? Those weren’t normal Knights-Charnel, they were Torquen dragoons.’

‘Torquen?’ Sitain asked.

‘Aye, the Charnelers’ elite. Spymasters and assassins one day, saboteurs and assault troops the next – squads filled with men pulled from the regular ranks by whichever Exalted commands them. Defenders of the Torquen Temple’s Exalted Servants, so they call themselves. The Torquen Inquisition to you and me.’

Toil rubbed her face as she spoke, prodding at the bruise on her cheek and the split skin at her hairline. Fatigue and that blow to the head had lessened her fierce manner, it seemed.

‘I thought they weren’t troops o’ the line, the Torquen,’ Lynx said.

She shrugged. ‘Like I said, elites. If the Charnelers go to war, the dragoons will go with them. But also, they’re a powerful wing of the Knights-Charnel, able to suborn whole companies when they need to.’

‘We don’t need to win a fight,’ Anatin pointed out. ‘Just hold them off. We’ve got the greater supplies, give them a day or two and they’ll be recalled to the city.’

‘Or a battalion catches them up in a few days and we’re screwed.’

‘Don’t they have a city to overthrow?’

‘Not now,’ Toil said. ‘Not without the Princip. Otherwise, there’d have been no bloody point me killing the man. They could maybe take it, but they’d never hold it and they know it. Council of the Assayed wouldn’t fall in line.’

‘So no reason for all their troops to stay in the city.’

Lynx shook his head. ‘And every reason to catch you and start cutting pieces off until they find out who sent you.’

Toil flashed him a grim smile. ‘Chances are they’ll be able to guess, but I reckon they’ll still have some questions.’

‘Also you just embarrassed one o’ the most prideful bunches of armed fanatics in the whole Riven Kingdom.’

Silence descended over the small group at that as they drew closer to the now-halted caravans. Grey clouds scudded overhead, the Skyriver mostly obscured behind them. Shrill calls of birds rang out from the hedgerows and stubby trees lining the road while the soft buzz of cicadas seemed to rise from the grassy plains beyond. Lynx saw the knife-wing shapes of hunting lizards swooping and darting over the plain, while in the distance a herd of what he guessed were antelope steered away from the mercenaries. The rain had muted the scents of the open country, but Lynx was glad to have the city’s stink washed away at last.

As they neared the wagons, Lynx saw the remaining members of the company scattered around the road, watching them. None seemed to be setting up any sort of barricade, though. This wasn’t a force getting ready to defend their position.

‘Ah, good work, Payl,’ Anatin said aloud.

Lynx frowned, not seeing what his commander was talking about, but as they closed he realised the ground on their right opened up and the path forked. The chatter of a river became audible and as the distinctive figure of Payl started walking towards them, the flattened ground of a ford was unveiled behind the trees.

‘She’s had the same thought as me,’ Toil pointed out. ‘We’re not outrunning anyone with those wagons. Either we set an ambush or we leave the road.’

‘Ambush, then,’ muttered Kas, looking round at the cover they had. ‘Cross the river and dig in, tear ’em up as they try to follow. Leave a Suit behind to hit ’em with earthers and burners from behind.’

‘That Suit’s as good as dead if they outnumber us. Heading cross-country levels the playing field – improves our chances, even.’

‘We can’t get the wagons out that way,’ Anatin snapped. ‘And on that west plain their cavalry will run us down.’

Toil snorted. ‘Sure, but the ford leads east, not west.’

‘Go east? You’re bloody mad.’ Anatin shook his head and stood up in his saddle. ‘Payl, good to see you! Himbel, where are you?’

A dark face pushed forward out of a knot of mercenaries as the strike group closed the last few yards.

‘Got injured?’

‘Safir’s broken something,’ Anatin said, glancing back. ‘He’s done, been riding all night.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not, you’ll faint clean off that thing if you have to ride an hour more.’

Two men wearing Snow badges came forward to help their Knight off his horse. Safir grumbled and hissed, but was too weak to put up much resistance and eventually he let them half-carry him over to Himbel. The rest of the mercenaries gratefully eased themselves off their horses and the quartermaster, Foren, directed the young recruits to start handing out bread and watered wine. More than a few gave Toil suspicious looks but the woman ignored them all and stalked over to where Anatin was talking to Payl.

‘We need to leave the road,’ Toil repeated, stepping between the two. ‘All their advance group needs to do is pin us and slow us down.’

‘Sounds like your plan was flawed from the start, woman,’ Teshen said, joining the group. ‘They were always going to pursue us and we ain’t dumb enough to delay them while you ride on ahead.’

‘Do I look dumb?’ she snapped. ‘Course I know that. I just didn’t count on hiring a bunch of cowards.’

Teshen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Best you choose your words more carefully.’

Toil’s scornful look made more than one mercenary twitch their fingers towards mage-pistols, but before anyone drew she said, ‘Sounds like you drew attention down on yourselves and killed my first plan. We could’ve ridden on by easily enough if they were just after a small party.’

Toil sighed and shook her hair out to retie it properly. ‘Mercenaries on the road ain’t such an unusual sight,’ she continued. ‘More importantly,
mercenaries staying in the bloody city while a completely separate group of assassins escape
ain’t likely to draw note. But you lot wanted to have your guns outside the city in case it got nasty, and now you’re all frightened to go east and take the best chance at losing our pursuit.’

‘East isn’t exactly safe,’ Anatin said slowly, as though he was speaking to a child. ‘East is bloody dangerous, in fact. There’s a few reasons why we’d have a good chance of losing the Charnelers there, but firedrakes and trolls are near the top o’ the list. But even if we don’t see any elementals at all, we’re only twenty miles from bloody Shadows Deep and once you’re there things get really nasty!’

‘Huh. You’d think professional soldiers would have some stones to share among themselves.’

‘It’s a Duegar city-ruin! You really are bloody mad. You even see one of those hell-holes?’

‘Better’n you,’ Toil snapped. ‘I’ve gone over, under, through and round half a dozen Duegar ruins. You think I’d suggest an escape route like this if I hadn’t?’

‘How should I know? I’ve only just met you and like I said, you’re pissing mad!’

‘I’ve walked the deepest dark,’ Toil said, prodding Anatin in the chest for emphasis. ‘I’ve broken bread with the Whisper clans and I’ve looked out from the highest tower of Skyreach. I can get you through Shadows Deep and it’ll be a whole lot safer than picking a fight with a regiment of Torquen dragoons.’

‘And we’re just supposed to trust you?’ Olut broke in. ‘We don’t know you and you ain’t paying enough to take those risks.’

Toil flashed the big woman a smile. ‘No different to any battlefield – and those risks just got smaller.’ She pointed a finger at Sitain. ‘We’ve got a mage. Skilled or not, the Falesh will sense her magic and be drawn to her.’

‘Falesh? You mean night elementals? That supposed to be a good thing?’

Toil nodded. ‘They’re not dangerous ’less you piss ’em off. So long as she smells nice to the Falesh and doesn’t do something stupid, there’s no problem and other elementals are likely to steer clear.’

‘What? Some shadow can frighten off a firedrake?’

‘No, but they’ll avoid other elementals by choice so if night elementals are close, the rest aren’t likely to be.’

‘Who in coldest dark says I’m going anywhere?’ Sitain yelled, her voice suddenly shrill with alarm.

‘I do,’ Toil said with a fierce grin. ‘You’ll be damn useful there.’

‘Good luck with that. I’m not signed on with this company.’

‘Sitain, you’re coming,’ Anatin said firmly. ‘She’s right, the wilds are full of elementals and a mage is a real advantage. We can call it forced conscription if you like, but you’re in now. Full pay and rights from here on, but you’re coming with us.’

‘Bloody aren’t.’

Anatin drew a mage-pistol. ‘If I am, you are.’

‘Hold up there,’ Lynx said, stepping forward. ‘Threats now?’

‘Aye, there’s no time for discussion. If I’m going, she is too and you’re following my orders. You don’t like it I’ll leave your bodies on the road, give the Charnelers the impression we killed the Princip’s murderer and left the body for ’em. Anyone can leave the company after the job’s done, you can walk with your pay intact, but not now – not when there’s lives at risk.’

Lynx took a long breath, realising Teshen was edging towards him, but before anyone else drew a weapon Sitain put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t, it’s not worth it.’ She turned to Anatin. ‘You’ll let me leave?’

‘If that’s what you want. You want to stay and work with Himbel, that’s also good. Showed potential with Safir, you’ll be worth the pay.’

‘Sitain,’ Lynx began, ‘you don’t know—’

She held up a hand to stop him, a thoughtful look on her face. ‘I start as a noble card,’ she said eventually. ‘I’ve got skills none of this lot do, fighters are ten a penny.’

Anatin gaped at her then burst out laughing. ‘A card, eh? Piss and wind, yer a girl after my own heart! Aye, you got skills. It’s a deal. What card’s spare?’

Payl cocked her head in thought. ‘Girl after your own heart,’ she repeated, ‘looks like we just found a new Jester of Sun.’

Sitain ducked her head in acknowledgement, her expression wooden. ‘So long as it’s not anything under Stars. I’m done with Insar. I’ll wear any god’s card but his so long as the Charnelers are after me.’

‘You think any card’ll be worth going into a Duegar ruin?’ Lynx warned.

‘What other choice is there?’

‘There’s always a choice.’

‘What? Walk away now? Take this road on foot and hope they don’t see me for what I am? Those bastards want to make a slave of me, want to take everything I’ve got and make weapons out of it.’ The anger burned in her eyes now and Lynx realised she wasn’t to be swayed. More than ever before she looked Hanese then, and he made himself step back and bite down the instinctive snarl welling up inside him.

Anatin watched him a moment then nodded and looked around at the company. ‘Jester o’ Sun,’ he said slowly. ‘Sounds fitting to me. Estal, you agree?’

‘All the current Jesters are trouble,’ the company seer replied. ‘Reckon she belongs there, aye. We’ll tell her what happened to the last one another day.’

‘It’s settled then. You’re in and you do what I say. Now, about your pay …’

Lynx left Sitain to it, seeing she would hammer out a good deal for herself and wanting a little space for the sparker in his blood to subside. He turned away from the knot of mercenaries and pushed his way through the onlookers. Back down the road he could just about see a pair of riders watching them. He reached for his mage-gun then checked himself. They weren’t advancing, but keeping as far away as possible.

‘Riders behind,’ he called. ‘Scouts maybe.’

Anatin pushed his way over while Toil grabbed the nearest horse and mounted to get a better view.

‘No one else?’ Anatin asked her.

‘Got a spyglass?’

Payl handed one over and Toil spent a long moment scanning the open road and what she could of the surrounding fields. ‘Looks like scouts, yes,’ she said eventually. ‘Just keeping us in sight while the rest follow. One horse each. Probably killed a few spares to catch us up. Time for you to make a decision, Anatin.’