The Stealers' War (12 page)

‘It is close to what I saw before I lost my gifts,’ said Kerge, miserably.

‘You have not lost the gift,’ said Madinsar. ‘There is a rock slide in the water damming your flow. The rocks belong to you. They are yours to remove.’

‘I am trying.’

‘Rather, we are chipping at them together,’ said the witch rider.

‘Nurai claims I will bring death and misery to the clans,’ said Cassandra.

‘Misery to her, perhaps. Maybe to us all. I dream of defeat to the south of the steppes, or victory north of the plains. Your friend Temmell means to smash us upon the peaks of Rodal. Matters will not end well there for our people.’

‘Temmell is not my friend.’

‘I sense his scent upon you, girl. Like the brand of ownership on a steer. He has burnt into you and do not deny it.’

‘Temmell says he will heal me.’

‘As I heal a roast chicken by digesting it and making it part of my flesh?’

Cassandra snorted. ‘I am not yet healed.’

‘I need no gift to see that. The gask carried you in here, girl. Let me carry you out.’

‘Temmell’s cost I understand. What is to be
your
price?’

‘Yet to stand revealed to me. But we will need to pay its tally . . . all of us who are willing. Even those who are not. A dead river has only one course.’

‘That sounds terrifying,’ said Cassandra.

‘Then you sit upon my seat, now, girl. It may soon be impossible to choose between life and death. We may only be able to choose what we are willing to die for. Or
who
.’

‘I shall try to give you your answer when you fully have your question,’ said Cassandra.

‘Yes,’ sighed Madinsar. ‘I am sure you will.’ There was a measure of sorrow in her voice heavier than anything Cassandra had heard before. Madinsar lifted Cassandra up from the cushions, assisted by Kerge. Together, they bore her back to the pony tied outside.

Brean Luagh approached his line of covered wagons. He attracted a hopeful bob of the head from one of his men perched on the driver’s seat of the lead wagon. There was a fire to the side, the rest of the traders and his family warming an iron pot filled with vegetables and local game. The driver had a rifle nestled in his lap like a cat for the stroking. Mael was a cousin. Not a particularly clever one, it had to be said.
But you have to work with what you are given.
‘Do we have a price for the goods?’

‘That we do not,’ said Brean. ‘The golden eagle is off with his beakers and experiments. But we’ll make a deal soon enough. After all, how many other traders do you see out here? A profitable trip, the gods willing.’ Brean walked around to the rear of the wagon and untied its canvas cover before hauling himself into the back. ‘Keep your eyes peeled. A little warning if one of our Nijumeti friends comes around wanting to swap goats for guns.’ He yanked the bales aside, exposing a pile of wooden crates. These he dragged back, exposing the wagon’s floor. Brean removed a small steel key from the ammunition pouch on his belt, slotting it into what looked to be a knot of wood. A turn to the left and the hidden mechanism answered with a click, the concealed panel lifting up an inch. He slipped his fingers below and slid the small hatch fully up.

Mael stuck his head through the wagon’s front curtain. ‘You’ll be bringing the guild-mark down on our heads one day with that contraption.’

‘Only natural for the Guild of Radiomen to be a little miffed,’ said Brean, removing the brick-sized radio set. ‘Them with holds filled with batteries and secrets and us with the whole caboodle squeezed down to this. Hardly seems fair . . . to the likes of them.’

‘Miffed won’t be the word for it.’

‘Don’t worry, boy. Have a little faith in King Marcus and his farcalled friends. If I’m any judge of character, the long guilds won’t be “long” for this part of the world.’

‘What are you saying, Brean Luagh?’

Brean activated the radio, just as the Vandians and Weylanders had shown him. His answer a swine-like squeal of static. ‘Why, that in a fight, you always back the man carrying the biggest blade.’ He lifted out the code book and located the day’s date in the table, along with the associated pass-codes. ‘So let’s find out how much the biggest blade is willing to pay for the safe return of an emperor’s granddaughter.’

‘The lass with the price on her head is here?’

‘No, you great idiot, the other girls. Her three beautiful noble-born sisters we’re expected to report for bleeding free.’

‘No need to be offensive,’ sniffed Mael.

‘What a sensitive soul you are today. The high-born lass is out in the aircraft works with Temmell himself.’

‘Never thought the young wizard was particularly interested in the fillies.’

‘You’d make an exception for the granddaughter of the big man, though,’ said Brean.

‘She looks like her picture?’

‘That she does. A little sadder, perhaps.’

‘I’d be sad out here.’

Brean snorted and tried the radio, fiddling with it for as long as he dared, but he couldn’t raise anyone at the other end.
This machine is meant to be simple to use
.

‘Is it broken?’ asked Mael.

‘No. We’re just too far out,’ sighed Brean. ‘Too many mountains in the way to the south. They warned me it might be the case.’

‘Maybe we could raise one of the Guild of Radiomen’s holds in Rodal,’ said the driver, sarcastically.

‘A fine idea,’ said Brean. He turned the radio set off and slipped it back in its compartment and concealed it once more. ‘Would you not mind passing on this little message for us. Who to? Why the very same king that’s been hanging Rodalian leaders for their impertinence.’ He laughed. ‘This box of tricks will work better when we’re rolling close to the border back home. A bit of patience and we’ll be fine, rich gentlemen by journey’s end.’

‘Let’s leave now. Sod the Nijumeti. We can grab the lady and take her with us.’

‘You must be joking. You’re getting greedy, Mael Luagh. It’s not a single clan we’re selling to out here, it’s the horde. That means the whole damn lot of them. Mean, saddle-born rascals, with a fine talent for mayhem. And Kani Yargul doesn’t have to catch us to make things difficult. He just has to let the Marsh Lords know how grateful he is to the Luagh boys for all our ball bearings, rubber straps and barrels of engine oil. When the first nomad comes a-flying over Hellin, we’d have a bigger price on our heads than the emperor’s granddaughter.’

‘So we’re to be informers?’

‘A dirty word. I prefer to think of it as facilitating a joyous family reunion. If there’s anything more disagreeable than a clan horseman, it’s a
disappointed
clan horseman. Business as usual for us in the camp. Then we clear off. Nothing out of the ordinary to tip off our trading partners. I don’t know how friendly those imperial fellows with the big steel aircraft are going to be when they come calling for Lady Cassandra. She looks to be a tent-guest rather than a saddle-wife, but who knows how hard these far-called boys will land? Them with their big guns and habit of chiding anyone in the vicinity with a noose. It wouldn’t do for any unpleasantness to be blamed on a few innocent lads out of Hellin.’

Better this way. Put any bloodshed behind us, and the mound of imperial gold before us. Yes, this could be a very profitable trip by the end of it. And filthy rich in a while, is still filthy rich.

THREE

DEMON OF THE NORTH WIND

The high, echoing debating chamber of the Rodalian Speakers had been witness to many arguments over the centuries, but none as important as this one. At least to Jacob. Council wasn’t in session. This was a private meeting between the Weyland exiles’ leaders and the Rodalian forces competing over their future. Jacob could tell that Temba Lesh hailed from the same family as Sheplar. An ungainly man of sixty-five years with rubbery features and a short white brush of hair who seemed to lean unnaturally forward like a bird, even while seated at the stone table in the centre of the chamber. A carrion bird, as far as Jacob was concerned.
At least, that’s what we’ll be if he has his way. Thrown back to Bad Marcus to fight for our lives for the Vandians’ amusement
. Nima Tash was a different matter entirely. Like a jasmine-scented porcelain doll of how outsiders depicted female Rodalian beauty. But the young daughter of the murdered Rodalian leader was far from fragile. She was as tough as tempered steel and it would be a fool who bet against her claiming her father’s absent seat.
Out of the two of them, I reckon I’m glad she’s the one backing us.

‘Your supporters used to argue heatedly for remaining removed from Weyland’s recent difficulties,’ said Temba Lesh, his head bobbing in Nima Tash’s direction.

‘That was before my father was hanged for daring to speak against the Vandian presence inside the league,’ said Nima. ‘Hanged in front of our embassy party, despite carrying an ambassador’s papers and supposedly being under the royal palace of Weyland’s protection of salt and roof.’

‘The Imperium does what it likes,’ said Jacob. ‘They don’t bother with diplomatic niceties. You don’t bow fast and deep enough to them; they’ll call it a discourtesy and take your head off.’

Temba thumped the table. ‘And yet these are the very people you have goaded inside the territory of the Lanca.’

‘You want to complain about it,’ said Jacob, ‘I’d suggest taking the matter up with King Marcus. He’s the Imperium’s man in Weyland, not us.’

‘This is precisely why we should not get involved any deeper,’ said Temba Lesh. ‘It was a mistake to try to mediate in Weyland’s civil war. Blood must out and it was never ours to risk or spill. A mistake that cost the previous Speaker of the Wind his life.’ He pointed accusingly at Nima Tash. ‘You have allowed your grief as a daughter to overwhelm your duties as a Rodalian speaker. Just allowing these foreigners exile among us is a grievous provocation.’

‘Spoken like a candidate to be the next Speaker of the Winds,’ said Nima.

‘I reckon Miss Tash knows how to count,’ said Jacob. ‘And she’s got eyes to see. You think that Marcus will be happy only holding Weyland after he’s pacified it? A madman like Bad Marcus is either adding to the pile of loot to divide among his supporters, or he’s growing nervous that someone’s going to steal his share. The usurper’s not the sharing kind. And with the skyguard and new weapons provided by the empire, Marcus doesn’t need the Walls of the League anymore. Rodal is just another bird clucking for the plucking.’

‘I do not
wish
to be involved,’ said Nima, ‘but as General Carnehan says, we are. And it is better that Rodal joins the fight while we still have allies in Weyland to assist us.’

‘Allies? This man Carnehan is a danger to us all. His presence among us is an insult. He fled crimes in Weyland, and then served across the ocean as a Burn mercenary. He is a wanted fugitive across the border under his true name.’

‘I know how to fight,’ said Jacob. ‘And I know how to win. If there’s any other qualification to being a commander, it doesn’t belong on a battlefield.’

‘We are not yet a battlefield,’ spat Temba. ‘Rodal is a sovereign nation. We make our own decisions in our own parliament.’

‘We had a parliament too,’ said Prince Owen, entering the council chamber. He was accompanied by Anna Kurtain. The dark-skinned woman glanced coldly at Jacob. She still hadn’t forgiven him for shooting the prince in the leg in Midsburg. Or maybe she was still pissed Jacob had used her as a hostage to guarantee the prince’s signature on his commission as commander of the northern forces?
The assembly needs its standard to rally around. Damned if I was going to let the boy stay behind for some suicidal last stand
. Prince Owen limped forward on a cane before speaking again. ‘The national assembly was dissolved in Arcadia by royal decree.’

‘And smashed a second time at Midsburg after the north rebelled,’ said Temba. ‘Your rebellion has failed, Prince Owen. And I address you by that title only as a courtesy. Your uncle has almost complete command of your country. The national assembly’s army is scattered and royalist soldiers are everywhere. I understand that King Marcus and his forces call you “the Pretender”. Are you pretending to still be in the field with a chance of victory as well?’

‘Damn right our army’s scattered,’ interrupted Jacob. ‘I was the one who scattered it. As long as the empire’s legions are still in the field, it’s suicide to meet the usurper and his allies in the open. We’re playing hit and run. Cutting the usurper’s supply lines, cutting his men’s throats and melting into the wilderness.’

‘So then,’ said Temba. ‘A bandit war fought by a man very close to being one himself ? We do not need to give sanctuary to brigands. We do not need a prince without a throne as an ally. There are dozens of houses across the border with tenuous claims to Weyland’s throne. If you dig back far enough in my ancestry, you’ll probably find some within my line’s blood.’

‘That’s only because our two nations have stood together as allies for as long as we’ve been able to call ourselves countries,’ said Prince Owen. ‘We’ve fought alongside each other against nomad hordes and pirates and every invader who ever threatened our peace, the peace of the Lanca.’

‘The articles of the Lancean League are clear enough,’ said Temba. ‘No interference in civil disputes. I have no more claim to tell Weyland who is to be its king or government than you have to tell Rodal who should be the next Speaker of the Winds. We will decide our coming election by ballot.’

‘While we decide ours with bullets,’ said Prince Owen. ‘I respect your wishes to stay out of this hideous conflict. When the fight was over my claim to the throne and my uncle’s, Rodal had a chance of neutrality. But the arrival of the Vandians has changed everything.’

‘So your self-interest would have us believe.’

‘It is true,’ said Nima. ‘I stood in Weyland’s capital with my father. I saw what the Imperium is doing in Arcadia. You did not.’

‘These Vandian forces are far-called, operating at the end of their range. Or do you deny that intelligence? The Imperium will grow bored here quickly enough. They are like the Kruls out on the plains. Savage children, but with better toys. A few raids to make a name and strike fear into the other clans, and the nomads retire to tend to their horses and their tents. Vandia is no different. The empire has no true interests to defend here.’

‘The Imperium was paying skel raiders to attack Weyland for slaves,’ said Jacob, ‘and making Marcus rich for looking the other way. The only reason the Imperium is here is to punish the slave revolt our Weylanders sparked when we escaped. The Imperium has to save face back home. Vandia’s like any bully. It can’t let someone punch it in the nose and walk away. It does that, every other victim’s going to wonder if a punch in the nose is an easier price to pay than regular tithes of flesh and silver to the emperor. And there’s a hell of a lot of victims around the empire . . . millions of slaves who help keep it rich and every neighbour unlucky enough to feel the imperial boot on their throat.’

‘Our skyguard is the skyguard of Rodal first and the League second. We would never try to enforce justice across the world. Such a task is clearly impossible. There are thousands of nations that are prey to better armed and more aggressive neighbours. Are we to intervene across Pellas? Let the Imperium fight and grow bored with fighting. Let the Imperium fill their slave markets with raids far-called from here.’

‘The Vandians may clear off in a year or so,’ said Jacob. ‘But Bad Marcus isn’t going anywhere. He’s got a taste of the Imperium’s wealth and what it can buy. He’ll be their puppet here until he dies, and after that, the country will be passed down to his children. You’ll be stuck with his rotten clan on the throne for generations.’

‘King Marcus cannot fight the entire League. That would be madness.’

‘What the hell else do you call his lust for absolute power?’ spat Jacob. ‘You’re right about me, Temba Lesh, I did serve as a mercenary officer in the Burn. And I’ve dealt with a thousand rulers like Marcus. Dukes and barons and princes and queens and emperors. Their titles were a mixed bag, but there was only a hair’s difference between the lot of them. Some of them I served, and a good many more I slew. You want to understand what you’re facing now, you take a ship across the ocean and serve in the free companies for a couple of decades. Eat blood and dust and then come back here. You’ll know the usurper for what he is and what he’s capable of.’

‘I cannot make another nation free,’ said Temba. ‘Only your people can do that. If you truly suffer a tyrant, throw him out. If we cross the border and fight for the north, then millions of Weylanders in the south will hate us and call us invaders. There will be blood between our two lands for generations.’

‘There’ll be blood,’ said Jacob. ‘The only mistake is being afraid to choose how and when it’s spilt.’

‘Rodal is not your sabre or your knife or your rifle. If I am elected Speaker of the Winds, your exile among us will be at an end. Our borders will remain closed for as long as chaos divides your nation. You will have your blood and your feud. But not one Rodalian life will be shed on either side of Weyland’s civil war.’

‘You’re a stubborn fool,’ said Jacob.

‘Were you called Quicksilver across the ocean for your words? They flow so easily.’

‘For deeds, not words. Hesitation’s a lot like death,’ said Jacob. ‘It’s always punished on the other side of the water.’
Just like good intentions
.

‘The mountains break everything,’ said Temba Lesh. ‘That is an old saying
here
. I shall leave you to your council. There is nothing more from me that needs saying.’

Prince Owen watched the elderly Rodalian politician rise proudly and leave. Then he turned to speak to Nima. ‘I need to know what your chances are of being elected Speaker of the Winds, Madam Tash?’

‘In truth, both sides are too evenly balanced to call,’ said Nima. ‘Many among us thirst to avenge the indignity of my father’s execution, the stain of dishonour. To have Rodal’s leader murdered for daring to speak his mind while under diplomatic immunity inside the territory of a trusted ally . . .’

‘I’ve had a good few pieces of paving hurled my way on the streets here for the crime of being a Weylander,’ said Jacob. ‘I know how furious your people are. We need to remind them that it was a Vandian noose around your father’s neck, not a Weyland one. How much support can Temba Lesh muster?’

‘Enough. Cooler heads and wiser council,’ said Nima. ‘Our two countries have been allies for so long, there are many who can imagine no conflict between us.’

‘They’ll imagine it well enough when the usurper and his imperial paymasters turn up here.’

‘You do not need to convince me,’ said Nima. ‘I saw what we face. There is not a day that passes when I do not go to sleep weeping over my father’s murder: but my support is not yours for personal revenge. I would not waste one Rodalian life on the conflict across the border if I thought your troubles would stay confined there. It is my judgement that King Marcus is not sucking in Vandian resources to build armoured regiments and a powerful new skyguard because he wants to mount fine parades in Arcadia and impress the crowds with fly-pasts. The plague that sickens you will sicken us soon enough.’

‘You will win the election for leadership of your government,’ said Prince Owen. ‘And we shall fight the sickness together.’

‘We’re not fighting it hiding out here,’ protested Anna Kurtain.

‘I agree,’ said Prince Owen. ‘We should be across the border, carrying the fight to the usurper.’

‘The fight is ongoing,’ said Jacob. ‘The north’s loyalty is still yours.’

‘But I am not there to be seen leading our people.’

‘Do you know how large the price on your head is now?’ said Jacob. ‘Marcus understands if you die the rebellion dies with you. You’re barely safe here in Hadra-Hareer. You tried it the old field marshal’s way and all you got for your trouble was a crushing defeat at Midsburg. We can’t mass forces for regimental actions in the field. The usurper controls the air and the sea now. He probably would have even without the Vandians showing up to lend him their imperial legions. So we bushwhack blue-coats, and bleed them, and make them pay for every step they take over the Spotswood River.’

‘I can never win the throne like this. All you have to offer our people is endless war and suffering.’

‘All we need to do is outlast the south,’ said Jacob. ‘They’ll get bored soon enough and come after us here. Rodal is where you’ll see your regimental action. We’ll man the Walls of the World and break them against us like we’re shelling walnuts.’

‘Outlast the south? Have you not seen the reports coming across from Weyland? My uncle is seizing northern cities and stripping them of citizenry – shipping people across the Spotswood River to work as indentured labour in his supporters’ mills and manufactories. Vandia is claiming their share of our people’s flesh, too, taking thousands as slaves. We have to sally out from here and show the people of the north we can protect them. If we do not, we will lose all support.’

‘Every man and woman taken for a slave leaves a dozen behind with hate burning in their heart.’
And I should know because it’s a mirror of mine
. ‘We can use that hate. It’s as good as bullets in the coming fight. We wait the south out and they’ll advance on us here.’

‘How can you be so sure what they will do?’ said the prince.

‘Because I’m going to keep on jabbing the wasps’ nest until the south comes buzzing at us. You need to ask the assembly-in-exile for permission for us to start blowing the Guild of Rails’ lines.’