Shadowgod (31 page)

Once glance over her shoulder told her volumes. The eldritch ship was mere seconds from ramming the old vessel on the right, and people were starting to stream out of its wharfside doors in hysterical panic, joining those already bolting away from the dock end.

She ran for dear life, boots hammering the planks, arms pumping. At the steps she took them three at a time, expecting at any moment to hear a massive impact. She reached the top, not daring to look back, and dashed over to her horse, wrenched the reins loose and vaulted into the saddle. Only then did she look behind her and what she saw froze her to the marrow.

More than a hundred people had fled the hulks and jetties to gather on the lower wharfside, thinking themselves safe from peril. But from her higher vantage Keren saw everything, in terrible detail.

There was a thunderous, tearing crash as the sorcerous glowing vessel slammed into one of the decrepit, old ships. The half-rotten hull burst apart and the enemy ship carved an inexorable path through it, ripping open cabins and holds given over to homes and taverns and workshops, obliterating them all. For a moment Keren thought it would slow, lose momentum and stop, but on it came as if it were an iron blade thrusting through toys made of twigs.

The whole quayside shuddered and Keren's horse whinnied, jerking to the side in fear. With a tight grip on the reins and a warm hand to stroke the beast's neck, she calmed it. Then another deep wooden crunch sounded above the din of smashed timbers, and shrieking, terrified voices grew near as the hulk-folk came pouring up from the lower wharf. Beyond them, the unrelenting enemy vessel was grinding its way through another old ship on a course heading for the dockside near Keren. Unlike the lower wharfs, the main quay was massively built on ten-foot wide piles sunk deep into the river bed. Keren wanted to believe that it would be solid enough to stop the marauding destroyer but certainty failed her and she yanked on her horse's reins, urging it up the long ramp that led out of Wracktown.

She got out ahead of an uncontrolled mob and up onto a wide stilt road which curved westwards through a dense district of warehouses. She wheeled her horse in time to see the glowing ship strike the edge of Wracktown's main quay. As if it was tinder it broke with a loud splintering crack and huge, shattered pieces of timber flew into the air as the vessel battered on through the long, heavy planking to plunge into the great framework of supports underpinning South Bridges itself.

She stared in shock disbelief as the ship, surely driven by the power of the Wellsource, disappeared from view. Yet she could hear the destruction it was wreaking, and feel the tremors, and see the crowds of people abandoning their workshops and homes. Then a long swathe of densely packed buildings and walkways began to slump and fall inwards, opening up a jagged chasm. Tall timbered goods houses either collapsed fully into the rift or toppled in from both sides. Many of the undersupports anchoring the Bridges district had been interconnected down the years, joists resting on founderframes that were braced against load-bearing walls or crossbeams which, when they failed, pulled all else down with them. A score-strong crowd some distance in front of Keren suddenly found themselves scrambling for safety as the wide walkway section they were watching from tilted forward and began to break apart.

Keren was too busy trying to control her horse to help. As she fought the panicking beast away from the widening rift the stilt road she was on gave forth a sickening groan and lurched sideways.
I can't stay here
, she thought.
I'll die like the rest
! Digging in her heels, she urged her mount into a gallop along the unsteady road to a nearby junction and down onto a lower thoroughfare which climbed and ran north, almost parallel with the chasm of destruction. Reaching the road's highest point she stared at the still-unfolding catastrophe. I'm watching hundreds upon hundreds of people die, she realised, the horror of it settling hollow in her stomach.

Then the glowing, Wellsource ship burst into view on the north side of the Bridges district, destroying a loading dock and marina as it did so. Wreckage was strewn in the waters as the ship surged out into the dark expanse of the Sarlekwater. Keren breathed in deeply, almost afraid to look back round at the scene of chaos, but forced herself.

A tangled forest of shattered timbers was mingled with collapsed walls and roofs, and twisted ironwork balustrades. Buildings had been torn open to expose bedrooms, kitchens, offices, workrooms, with water trickling from broken pipes while the scattered contents of hearths were starting dozens of small fires. Bodies lay on fallen floors, or were impaled on upthrusting spars, or wallowed lifelessly in the debris-choked waters, or….

She averted her eyes, gazing north to see the evil vessel turning in a leisurely curve, coming back round towards the eastern wards of Bridges, its speed undiminished, its course starkly evident. In her mind's eye she imagined the dread ship repeatedly smashing in and out of the Bridges district until all that was left was a wide stretch of devastation and death. For a wild moment, she thought of riding towards the ship, somehow leaping on board and confronting the one behind all this….

Who could probably kill me by just looking at me
, she thought.
Medwin, I've got to find him
.

Which meant heading for the east bank before the enemy ship cut her off.

Hauling on the reins, she turned her horse's head and spurred it into a canter back down the stilt road. As she passed the junction with the now-collapsed roadway, a long crashing sound announced the enemy ship's return. Fleeing people crowded the roads and walkways leading east and Keren had to use her horse to force a way through. Soon she was riding up to the platform on one side of a bridge linking South Bridges to a rocky islet from which a larger bridge stretched to the shore. The bridge before her was a sliding structure that crossed one of the two main canals which snaked through this side of the Bridges district. People were crossing in a constant stream, most on foot, most carrying bundles of possessions or small chests, or pulling small carts piled with belongings.

Keren was just approaching the bridge, edgily aware of the rumble of destruction drawing near, when a knot of youths off to the side began shouting excitedly and pointing. She looked south to the invading fleet and was surprised to see a flotilla of low, narrow ships, each driven by a bank of oars and moving fast up the inlet. Each flew a banner from its stern, a slender pale blue standard whose details were lost at that distance. As she watched, the lead craft swept straight towards one of the outlying Islesmen longships and rammed it amidships. Everyone who saw this let out a massed shout of triumph…

Later on, Keren was not sure if it was that or what was about to happen that startled her horse. But the creature reared then plunged forward, bucked violently, hurling Keren out of the saddle, then bolted for the bridge, scattering people to left and right. Keren half-landed on top of a group of Bridges-folk who helped her back to her feet. Cursing the horse for a jittery beast, she thanked her helpers then hurried after it, squeezing past people, trying to keep the horse in view.

The unending sound of destruction beneath the timber façade was suddenly a close roar getting closer. The other side of the sliding bridge dropped, throwing everyone on it forward. Terrified people fell, scrabbled for handholds or were crushed. Keren dived at the bridge's side frame, wrapped her arms around a solid wooden beam. At the same time, the road and platform she had so recently passed along split apart in a cascade of wrecked timbers as the long, mastless shape of the Wellsource ship smashed its way out. All of this happened in only a matter of seconds but Keren, hanging on while people fell screaming past her, found herself staring down at the vessel as it passed by.

Through a shifting green nimbus she saw a man in loose-fitting garments standing at the prow, bare arms folded as he stared ahead; she saw the decrepit state of the ship; she could see into the hold and espy torrents of rushing water within; and she could see a figure lashed to the stump of the main mast, kneeling on the deck with head bowed.

Almost before recognising the light brown clothing, she knew it was Gilly. She wanted to cry out to him but the vile ship was past and gone before she could draw breath

She swung her legs up to the beam to sit astride it, trying not to look down for too long. Her side of the bridge was attached to a solid set of piles that were crossbeamed to others which were part of the still-standing canalside. But as before, buildings and other structures were collapsing into the gulf of destruction wrought by the sorcerous ship. Soon, the spreading devastation would drag the bridge supports down with it.

Then something flew past and thudded into the woodwork nearby. It took her a moment to realise that it was a light cord attached to a crossbow bolt. Quickly she reached out to grab it then stared up at the other end to see Medwin and Golwyth feeding out heavy rope which was tied to their end of the cord.

Feeling almost weak with relief, Keren let out a hoarse, dry laugh and began winding in her lifeline.

Divine Mother!
All who live and breathe take from thee,
And all who sleep and die go to thee.

—from
The Word Of The Fathertree
, 5th Cantation

As Golwyth's men hauled Keren up from the wrecked bridge, Medwin was appalled at the state of her but kept the anxiety from showing in his face. Her riders' jerkin was torn at the shoulder, there was mud spattered up her left side, scratches and bruises on her face, scratches on her hands and blood smearing from a cut on her temple which she seemed not to notice. Yet she still had that indomitable air of readiness, a slender-faced, wiry woman willing to rejoin the fray.

Not this time, my lady of swords
, he thought.
I want you kept safe - we may yet find your affinity with the Daemonkind of use.

He gazed across at the devastation gouged through the nearer part of the Bridges district. Crowds of people were scrambling down stairs, ladders and gantries to low jetties where small boats were ferrying survivors to the shore, a sight sure to be repeated all across this stricken place. Not that the shore was so safe from attack, although the catapulted fire bales had become infrequent since Yared Hevrin's ramships joined battle with the Jefren dromonds.

May the Earthmother grant you surcease of woe and pain, Yared, and a return to the flesh in a time of peace…

Wiping her face on her sleeve, Keren came over to Medwin, her eyes full of hard, contained anger.

“Medwin, I have to get back across,” she began. “Redrigh's still over there, so if Golwyth can lay hands on a boat, a raft, something - ”

“Wait now - Captain Redrigh can take care of himself, and in any case we have to send someone up along the lakeside with a vital message…” He paused, looked closer at her and frowned. “You seem close to exhaustion, Keren. We'll get you back to the compound….send someone else…”

“No, you….you can't send me back to the city!” She was dismayed and angry. “Please, Medwin, I'm not even tired…”

He gave her a long, piercing stare. “Have you the strength for a fast gallop up the lake?”

“I have, I swear it.”

Medwin made a great show of reluctant mind-changing, ending with a deep sigh. “Very well. There are another seven of those ramships waiting in a cove north along the lakeside - one of Golwyth's men will lend you his horse so you can ride with all speed up the lake shore. Once you find the ships, tell the captains I sent you.” From an inner pocket he pulled a pale blue banneret and gave it to Keren. “They'll know this is a token of proof from Yared's allies. When you have their attention, tell them to sail down the lake to the city and engage that accursed ship. They may not be able to sink it, but they might delay it and let more innocents escape from the Bridges.”

Keren stared out at the receding Wellsource ship with a hawkish hate in her eyes, then stuffed the banneret into her jerkin and nodded to Medwin.

“I shall not fail you,” she said, then turned to Golwyth who led her over to a group of his men, standing by their mounts. Moments later she was off at a spirited gallop, crossing the great span to the shore where she climbed the main way and turned south along the shore road.

“Her safety is of great concern to you,” Trader Golwyth observed. “Do you have children of your own?”

“Hmm?…” Medwin was momentarily puzzled. “Ah, I see. No, no….though once I was almost married. A long time ago.”

Golwyth regarded him with an amused frown, but Medwin said no more.

“I think, ser Medwin, it would be wise for us to retreat to the relative safety of the shore,” the master trader said.

Medwin shook his head. “I would stay here a little while longer to see if I can locate the valiant Captain Redrigh. And perhaps make another attempt to break that sorcerer's concentration.”

Golwyth gave a crooked smile. “Well, 'tis said that three times is a charm.”
“More likely the cause of a headache,” Medwin said wryly. “Return to your compound, Golwyth and if the Marshalls are looking for me inform them that I shall be along presently.”

The master trader nodded and left. As the sound of his men leaving on horseback faded, Medwin walked a few paces closer to the broken edge of the long, shattered canal entrance and the canyon of devastation. From somewhere way down in the wreckage came the moans of the trapped and the sobbing and the murmurs of rescuers. In his need for centred calm he tried to shut it all out, but failed. Death filled this place like a choking vapour. Behind him the fires were out of control and had engulfed nearly half of Scallow, while before him in the Bridges - who could tell how many had already died? Thousands, certainly. The blind, fanatical minds who could perpetuate such merciless slaughter on innocents were undeniably evil but on a scale he had not encountered before.

And in his private, most secret fears he had begun to wonder what it would take to defeat such an enemy, and even whether it could be achieved.