Ascendant's Rite (The Moontide Quartet) (46 page)

Elena closed her eyes and thanked whoever was listening.

Hold on, Cera. We’re coming as fast as we can.

18

Crocodiles

Rivers of Urte

Like the oceans, the rivers of Urte are subject to tidal change, but the effects are far less dramatic, as the moon’s influence is not so marked on smaller bodies of water. It is upon rivers and lakes that man has learned to float and to sail, and indeed, riverboats have provided the model for windships. Rivers have been the arteries of trade on Urte for centuries, and more goods are shipped on any major river than all of the windfleets together.

O
RDO
C
OSTRUO
C
OLLEGIATE,
P
ONTUS, 896

Riverdown, near Vida, southern Kesh, on the continent of Antiopia

Zulhijja (Decore) 929

18
^th
month of the Moontide

Ramon stared blearily across the Tigrates River. Half the army was in the water swimming, and he was on crocodile-watch. The giant reptiles, realising there was meat in the water all the time here now, were hovering on the fringes. Anyone with a touch of Animagery had to take their turn on duty, day and night, to keep them at bay. They’d lost three men before realising the danger; since then they’d killed about two dozen of the beasts, enough to deter most of them . . . but sometimes one got desperate.

Crocodile meat fell somewhere between fish and chicken, with – in Ramon’s opinion – the better points of neither. But fresh meat was hard to come by at the moment so no one was complaining.

He yawned, wondering how long until he’d be relieved. He’d been up most of the last few nights, using Baltus’ repaired windskiff to scout upriver, seeking some way out of this trap, but the problem with night-flights was that one really couldn’t see very much. He yawned again, and rubbed his eyes.

‘Buongiorno,’ Lanna drawled in a really bad Rimoni accent, settling beside him.

‘Shh,’ he replied, touching his temple to show he was concentrating. ‘They like to sneak in underwater. They’re tricky bastards, crocodiles.’

‘Really? Are they Silacian crocodiles?’

He laughed and threw up his hands. ‘
Rukka mio
! How can I concentrate?’ They shared a look. He’d been helping in the infirmary a lot recently, in exchange for a cot in the corner, as Severine had made it plain she didn’t want him around. It was awkward and embarrassing, and none of the other magi knew how to talk about it. He and Lanna weren’t precisely friends yet, but he’d proven himself willing and able to help out when he could, and she seemed to be thawing a little.

‘How was last night?’ he asked. The flow of wounded had slowed to a trickle, but the long-term cases and the usual mishaps of army life kept Lanna and Carmina busy.

‘Dull. Seven more dysentry cases, and a dozen afflicitons I can’t even name. And an Estellan archer was brought in at midnight, too far gone to save. A scorpion bite, we think. We need to warn the men about checking their boots again.’

‘It never ends, does it?’

‘That’s the lot of the healer-mage: on duty all the time, performing miracles as a matter of course, and given the blame if the soldier dies, even if it wasn’t our fault. Oh, and we get half the pay of a battle-mage.’

‘Not in this army.’

‘Really? Who put you in charge of pay?’

‘I mean it: you’ll get the same, or more. I’m going to make sure of that.’

‘Mmm. I’m told you’ve got all sorts of gold and treasure secreted away somewhere?’

He tapped his nose. ‘Don’t tell the rankers. They’ll be paid too, but I don’t want a riot before then.’

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’ She studied him, frowning. ‘You know, this is the first Crusade where I’ve actually felt valued by the battle-magi. Duprey took me completely for granted, right down to the usual sordid approaches.’

Ramon wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I kind of liked Duprey.’

‘He was an arsehole. Most people are.’ She looked away gloomily.

The Keshi attacks might have ended three weeks ago, but they were still pinned in Riverdown, supplies were beginning to run low and the far bank was still patrolled by Kirkegarde. The Keshi were dug in around them, having erected their own earthworks and fences to keep them penned inside. Morale was holding up though, buoyed by their successful defence.

‘How’s Jelaska?’ Ramon asked, dropping his voice.

‘She’s not taking it well.’

Jelaska had been in decline since Baltus Prenton’s death; she’d been sleeping badly and was oozing gnostic power in her sleep, calling ghosts from the aether while unconscious. They’d had to start sedating her, but Lanna’s stores of those particular herbs were running low.

‘She’s a tough old bird,’ Ramon replied, ‘and I’m sure she doesn’t believe in curses any more than we do.’

‘Perhaps. I know she’s tired of losing people. She just wants to go home, like the rest of us. Except me, of course. I like it here. I’m thinking of staying: I’d put my villa on this rise, and the dock for my luxury barge just here.’

‘You wouldn’t want to go downstream any further. This army has poisoned the river for decades to come.’ He grinned. ‘So, you’re going to capitalise on our popularity in these parts, are you?’

‘Mmm. The Keshi love us so much they won’t let us leave,’ she said drily.

Suddenly Lanna was hurled twenty yards into the river, landing with a violent splash. The roar of kinetic gnosis slammed Ramon sideways and he rolled to his feet, utterly bewildered, as Lanna came up out of the water, spluttering with outrage.

Severine Tiseme was stamping towards him, her little round face livid
.
‘
I’m sick of seeing you and that raddled harlot together!
’ she shrieked, storming to the water’s edge and slamming more kinetic energy at Lanna. This time Lanna shielded, but Sevvie’s blood was far stronger and she slammed the healer over backwards and under again. ‘
Keep away from my man, you ancient whore!
’

All along the foreshore the rankers had stopped swimming and were staring, caught between amusement and fear of being caught in the middle of a mage-duel. Severine was fully shielding as Lanna came up again, her thin smock clinging to her in a way that had the men whistling. Her normally placid face was set with anger. She stalked out of the river, holding her head up. ‘I will not make a spectacle of myself with the likes of you,’ she said to Severine.

‘That’s because you only know how to go behind people’s backs,’ Severine declared loudly.

Lanna’s face went red and she poked a finger at Severine. ‘Don’t make an enemy of me, princess.’

‘You don’t frighten me. You’ve got wrinkly old-woman hands,’ she added spitefully.

Lanna’s face burned a deeper scarlet, but she had little skill in offensive gnosis, and weaker blood than Severine. She backed a step, looked at Ramon with a withering look that said
Thanks for your help,
and walked away, her back straight.

Ramon saw Severine contemplate shoving the healer in the back and intervened with a touch of the gnosis that disrupted her control. She whirled on him, her eyes blazing. ‘As for you, you slimy rodent – I know all about you!’

‘What? I haven’t—’

‘Lying rat!’ She stomped away, leaving him with about a thousand gawking soldiers grinning from ear to ear.

For a minute he just stood there, torn between trying to fix his reputation with either woman, and staying put to look out for crocodiles . . . and to wait for one particular contact.

In the end he just sat down, ignored the smirking soldiers and sulked, the pleasure gone from the day.

The contact he’d been expecting didn’t come for another hour, but at last there was a gentle touch in his mind. He responded immediately.

he sent in Rimoni.

The sender, a mage-agent named Silvio Anturo, sounded uncharacteristically edgy for a familioso enforcer, but then, he wasn’t usually enforcing Inquisitors. He wasn’t a Retiari man, but an agent of the Petrossi, a rival gang the Retiari were currently cooperating with. He and Ramon had been in contact sporadically for several days now, and Ramon was a little surprised it had taken the man this long to find him.

Anturo sent.
patrona, Isabella Petrossi, is growing impatient. You claim the promissory note game has been lucrative, but then you vanished for a year. That nearly precipitated a war between you Retiari and we Petrossi. Isabella wants to know: where is the damned gold?>

The relief that exploded through Anturo’s brain was palpable.

Ramon lied.

Anturo sniffed.
you
out, no problem.>

I
could leave whenever I like . . . but not with twenty wagons of gold!>
Though when it came down to it, Ramon didn’t want to leave the legion behind. They were his boys, and the other magi were friends now. His daughter was here. And Sevvie, for what that was worth at the moment.

Anturo replied.
pompinari
in with promises and fleece them. You must have an extraction plan!>

Ramon baited his hook.

The link went silent. Ramon could almost hear the other man’s brain cranking through the possibilities until he whispered, a little unnecessarily,
serious
, Sensini? You really want to rukk over
both
familioso?>

joining
us. We could set up our own familioso, you and me. We’re
magi
, Anturo! We’re scarier than anyone they could send against us.>

Another pause then, as Anturo struggled to take this in. His loyalties clearly went deeper than Ramon’s, but then, Isabella Petrossi was his aunt. She’d purchased a week with a Rondian half-blood for her sister, and Anturo was the progeny of that union. But for many familioso agents, time in service bred cynicism.

Ramon affected a sneer.

out
, with the rewards I deserve. But those
pezzi di merda
in Retia don’t understand. They think hardship is having to pour their own drinks, my rukking mother included!>
He winced at his own words, but the conviction in his voice never wavered as he reeled Silvio in.

Silvio Anturo was silent for a long time, then spoke in just the way Ramon had wanted; with indecision, heavily tinged with greed.

If he’d leaped at the offer, Ramon would have smelled a rat. Dio mio
, I’m plausible sometimes . . .

Anturo fell silent again.

*

Other people weren’t so keen on the way Ramon thought. He went looking for Severine as night fell, finding her as usual in the women’s camp, cooking while watching over a sleeping Julietta. She looked wretched, her face tear-stained and grimy, her ringlets limp and dull. She smelled like she hadn’t washed in weeks. There were moths swirling in clouds about the lamps and flies crawling over the uncooked food, but she wasn’t even mustering the gnostic energy to drive them away.

There was no welcome in her eyes when he hunkered down beside her. And he was still angry at her for that scene beside the river, angry enough not to care if this was it between them. ‘What was all that about?’ he demanded. ‘Lanna and I have done
nothing
.’

‘Oh please! You’re sleeping in the healers’ tent! The whole damned legion knows it! It’s
humiliating
!’

‘I’m
helping out
, Sevvie! And I have to sleep somewhere!’ He gestured futilely. ‘I’m not sleeping with her, I swear it – although why you care, I don’t know. You don’t want me – you never have. All you wanted was a child, and now you’ve got one.’

‘She’s yours too,’ she snapped. ‘Not that you care.’

‘Of course I care! I see her every moment I can!’

Severine snorted, looked away. ‘Why the healer? She’s thirty! She’s
plain
.’ They glared at each other, then her face softened. ‘Don’t you abandon me, Ramon Sensini. I’m a
Tiseme
: no one leaves me!’

‘Then why don’t you do the leaving,’ he snapped. ‘Go ahead, if your pride is all you care about! Go ahead!’ He spun and stamped away.