Grim Company 02 - Sword Of The North (55 page)

‘Is it over?’ Sasha whispered. ‘Is she dead?’
Please be dead
, she prayed silently.
Please be dead.

She received her answer moments later. Like a vengeful angel, the silvery figure of the White Lady rose up to float beside the tower. She was clutching something in her hand, something red. ‘You should never have come here,’ she thundered, her voice carrying like a hurricane. ‘This place will be your tomb.’ The White Lady released whatever it was she was holding and it floated slowly down through the wind and the rain. It was a cloth, Sasha saw. The red cloth Thanates wore around his eyes.

The Magelord raised her arms and began to chant arcane words, working a mighty spell. There was a tremendous crack and then, to Sasha’s horror, the great spire beside the floating Magelord suddenly rose into the sky. A thousand tons of marble, torn from the ground in an absurd display of power. Rubble rained down as a fresh wave of screams erupted on the streets.

When the tower was half a mile above the city the White Lady moved her hands in a circular motion. Three hundred feet of stone turned slowly in a colossal arc so that the pinnacle pointed down at the ground. The Magelord aimed it like a spear: a spear capable of slaughtering an army.

Don’t do it
, Sasha thought, appalled.
You can’t. You’ll devastate the entire city.

It seemed the Magelord of Thelassa was beyond caring. With a scream like the death wail of a banshee the White Lady hurled the tower from the sky. For a split second a shadow seemed to swallow the earth, as if the moon itself were falling.

The noise when the great spire collided with the city below was like a hundred firebombs exploding all at once. The street lurched, sending Sasha crashing into the side of a building. Out of sheer instinct she tried to steady herself with her injured foot, screaming in pain as her ankle buckled. The wreckage of the pulverized tower rained down from above, stones striking her and dust filling her nose and mouth until she was choking on it. She heard something huge crash into the house behind her. There was a pregnant pause – and then a terrible creaking sound as the top half of the building began to sag.

Sasha could only watch transfixed as it toppled forward, a wagon-sized chunk of marble embedded in the roof. She was directly in its path. Her brain screamed at her to move out of the way but her body refused to act and she knew then that she was going to die, alone in a foreign city with no friends or family except a sister who surely hated her. She’d ruined things for Ambryl. Just as she’d ruined things for everyone who’d ever been close to her. She closed her eyes and waited for the end, the end she deserved.

It never came. Suddenly Ambryl was there, shoving her aside and covering her younger sister with her own body. Sasha caught a glimpse of her sister’s face an instant before the house crashed down. Ambryl’s expression was perfectly calm and there was a strange look in her eyes, as if this was a moment she had been waiting a lifetime for. The years of bitterness and hard living and dark deeds melted away, and in that instant she was the old Ambryl again, the young woman who would do whatever it took to keep her little sister safe.

‘Ambryl!’ Sasha screamed as the avalanche of stone and timber and the giant section of the shattered tower fell onto her sister. Ambryl’s body shielded Sasha from the bulk of the collapsing house as Sasha tried to roll away, innumerable bits of rubble striking her painfully, leaving her bloody and bruised but somehow still alive. She rose shakily from the ground, heedless of the hundred agonies threatening to tear her apart. Where Ambryl had been standing there was now only a vast pile of debris.

Fresh agony exploded in Sasha’s ankle as she stumbled to the wreckage but she ignored it; she went to her knees and began to claw away the rubble with her bare hands. Tears streamed down her face as she called her sister’s name again and again. This time there was no one to rebuke her. No sound at all except the patter of the rain and, a minute or two later, an ominous groan from somewhere far below the city.

There was a commotion at the end of the street and a crowd suddenly appeared, fleeing towards the harbour. One man glanced at her as he ran by. ‘The city’s collapsing,’ he shouted. ‘Get out of here while you can.’

Sasha paid him no mind. She continued to dig, tearing her nails and bloodying her hands, lost in grief. She knew it was hopeless. No one could survive being buried alive beneath all that stone.

With a despairing sob she crumpled against the fallen building, rolling onto her back and letting the rain wash over her face. The city groaned again and this time she felt the earth tremble. More people raced down the street. She briefly considered joining them but knew she wouldn’t be able to make it twenty yards without help. If she was going to die it might as well be here, beside her sister.

Another man ran past her, a straggler wearing a hood over his face. He glanced briefly in her direction and kept going for a few seconds. She couldn’t explain it but as she stared dully at the man Sasha felt a flicker of familiarity, as if she ought to know him.

It appeared the hooded figure was having similar thoughts. He did a double take before turning and starting back over to her.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Save yourself.’

The hooded man’s voice was thick with disbelief. ‘Sasha?’

How does he know my name?
There was something familiar about that voice. The figure reached up and thrust back his hood.

‘C… Cole?’ For a moment she was too shocked to say anything more. Then it all came pouring out in a mad rush. ‘I thought you were gone,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘I looked everywhere for you. I didn’t know if you were dead or maybe if you’d abandoned me. I’m sorry I treated you badly. I’m a fuck-up, I know that. Please don’t—’

‘Hush. I would never abandon you. Why would you even think that? I ran into a little trouble but I’m here now.’ Cole came closer and inspected her injuries and the concern in his grey eyes almost made her cry again. ‘You’re badly hurt.’

‘My ankle’s broken.’

Cole inspected the injury and winced. ‘How did that happen? Never mind, I’ll get you out of here.’ He turned and called to an odd pair waiting a little further up the street and together they ambled over. One was clearly a hunchback, with an oversized brow and big, watery eyes. The other—

‘Ed,’ Cole said patiently. ‘Why’d you take your top off?’

The big fellow Cole referred to as Ed stared down at his badly scarred body. He looked as though someone had recently tried to carve him up with a knife. ‘I wanted to show your girlfriend my scars,’ he rumbled.

Cole gave Sasha an embarrassed look. ‘I never said that. That you’re my girlfriend I mean. Damn it, Ed, just help her up! Derkin, you lead the way. You know these streets better than me.’

Sasha gasped softly as Ed lifted her from the rubble with a combination of fearsome strength and surprising gentleness. Her body hurt all over but seeing Cole’s face again soothed her pain and for the first time in months she felt safe, despite the fact the city was collapsing and an angry Magelord was still circling the skies above.

‘You’re pretty,’ Ed rumbled. He sounded like a child. Sasha looked up at his simple face and forced herself to smile.

‘Thank you,’ she said. She glanced at Cole. There was something different about him. ‘Are these men your new henchmen?’ she asked, remembering Three-Finger and suppressing a shudder.

‘Henchmen?’ Cole looked puzzled. ‘No. These are my friends.’

Sasha stared at Cole again. He had changed; she saw that now. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke… he was less certain. Less sure of himself. ‘What happened to you?’ she said quietly.

Cole hesitated and then shook his head. ‘There’s no time to explain. We need to get to the harbour before this place falls apart.’

They joined the mass of people stampeding through the streets towards the docks. Sasha looked back one final time at the collapsed house, at her sister’s tomb. Cole must have noticed the tears in her eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Someone dear to me is buried underneath that rubble. She… she sacrificed herself to save my life.’

Cole slowed and looked as if he were about to turn around. ‘We can go back if you want. Maybe she survived. Maybe we can dig her out—’

‘No. Please, Cole. It’s over. She’s gone.’

Cole’s mouth opened and he looked like he might argue, but a moment later he bit his lip and nodded. The old Cole would never have shown such restraint and she wondered again at the change in his personality. Then her thoughts returned to her sister.

‘
Goodbye, Ambryl
,
’
she whispered, blinking back tears. To her surprise Ed squeezed her tighter as he carried her in his arms, a gesture meant to comfort.

They hurried on, saying little as the rain continued to pour down and those fleeing the city converged on the harbour. It was heaving with people when they finally arrived, soaking wet and short of breath, especially poor Derkin. An elderly woman waved at him and he broke away from the group to join her, protesting animatedly as she smothered him in hugs and kisses.

Despite the stormy conditions, several ships were already full as city folk sought the sanctuary of the open sea. Those already on the ships stared back at the crowded docks with sympathetic faces. No one wanted to be on solid land in the event the city’s foundations gave out.

Sasha gazed out across the churning green water as Ed carried her across the soaking wooden boards that formed the docks. The endless sheets of rain made it hard to be certain, but as her eyes scanned the ships floating in the harbour she thought she could make out large shapes approaching through the grey haze of mist beyond.

The captain of one of the smaller vessels leaned over the rail and waved at the crowd waiting on the docks. ‘No need to panic,’ he called out. ‘More ships are returning to harbour. At least three. Hang on, make that four. Wait… what in the hells?’

Uproar broke out on those ships whose passengers were close enough to get a good look at the approaching fleet. Seconds later screams rolled across the wharf, a tide of panic rising like floodwater as the crowd finally saw what it was that approached.

‘Let’s get closer for a better look,’ Cole suggested, and he and Ed pushed their way through the crowd. Sasha clung tightly to the big simpleton, and as he barged his way to the edge of the docks she looked up to see a large crow soaring overhead, its wings badly damaged and its dark feathers singed as if it had been caught in a fire.

Sasha’s attention snapped back to the harbour as she heard Cole’s horrified gasp. A moment later her own breath caught in her throat. All around them people were shouting. No small number were retching, sickened by what they saw drifting towards them.

The ghost fleet was empty of both crew and passengers, or at least of those still among the living. All they contained were heads. Hundreds of heads piled high in grisly pyramids, their worm-eaten eyes staring out unseeing above sallow cheeks turning green with rot.

Yet more ships came into view, all of them carrying the same ghastly cargo. The dead must have numbered in the thousands, men and women who only a few months ago had set sail from Dorminia dreaming of untold riches or just a warm meal to fill their family’s bellies.

‘The Pioneers,’ Sasha said numbly, almost choking on bile. The ships sent to the Celestial Isles had returned.

Sir Meredith flexed his hand as he approached the hill, marvelling at how strong it felt. Shranree had done an admirable job of healing the terrible injury he had brought back from the Greenwild. The sorceress had teased the bone back together with fingers as supple as her tongue and sealed the wound with a brief unveiling of magic that had eased the pain. Now, a scant few weeks after the tragedy, he was restored to his glorious best.

The guards at the west gate huddled miserably against the wall, trying to escape the biting wind that brought with it endless flurries of snow. Sir Meredith sneered at them behind his helm, wondering at the lack of mental alacrity that would compel a man to such menial duty. He hoped these two performed their roles with greater enthusiasm than the previous guards. He noticed their bodies in the corpse pit as he passed it. The thick snow hid their wounds, and he considered that something of a shame. He rather enjoyed admiring his handiwork.

Red Rayne caught up with him as he was halfway up the hill. A glance at the wretch’s face confirmed that he was high on
jhaeld
again. Sir Meredith shook his head in disgust and ignored Rayne’s muttered greeting. Attending the King in such a state bespoke a man of abhorrent character. Admittedly, neither of them was supposed to be present at Krazka’s side this day. But a knight’s devotion never wavered, which was exactly why Sir Meredith’s armour had already been polished and donned when Krazka’s unexpected summons arrived. Rayne on the other hand looked as though he had just crawled out of a brothel, which in all probability he had. Sir Meredith consoled himself with the knowledge that Shranree’s ministrations had been less successful when it had come to the fireplant-addicted degenerate; Rayne would never hold a sword in his right hand again.

When the two men reached the top of the hill, they found Krazka staring out across the snow-blanketed fields of the King’s Reaching. Bagha and the pasty-fleshed Northman, Wulgreth, were guarding him. Orgrim Foehammer stood nearby, concern plastered over his face.

Shranree was also present. Sir Meredith amused himself wondering if the sorceress still walked with a slight limp after the night they’d spent together. Her appetites were surprising indeed, but then a knight understood how to treat a lady. Knew how to unlock all the hidden passions his artless countrymen couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Disappointingly, Shranree didn’t seem pleased to see him. Her eyes met his, and he thought he glimpsed worry there before they flicked away.