Read Stranger of Tempest: Book One of The God Fragments Online
Authors: Tom Lloyd
‘What? So you believe me because of the turn of some cards?’ she said in disbelief.
‘Nope,’ Kurobeil replied before the mercenary could. ‘He cleverly curses Insar an’ watches my reaction. Apparently that passes fer subtlety round here.’
‘You can’t tell a man’s soul from one hand,’ Anatin said dismissively, ‘that’ll take me all night and we ain’t got that long. But I’ve seen a few practised liars in my time. Might be you’re so good you can fool me, but if that were true, why’re you sitting here some penniless Jaian?’
‘Maybe I ain’t one.’
‘Aye, but if you were that good and an agent o’ some sort, you’d not be wasted on some little job like her. And if you’re just some pious shite who’d sell her out, you’d not be a gambler – nor mostly ignore me cursing any god. Could be you’re some scam artist who thought she was a mark, but you’d be carrying a weapon.’
Kurobeil pursed his lips. ‘Guess I ain’t one to argue yer logic, not if the alternative’s being hit over the head.’
‘Good plan.’
‘So now what?’ Sitain demanded.
‘Well, I ain’t in a trusting mood and we’ve got a job to do.’ Anatin scratched his cheek and indicated for Teshen to deal the next hand. ‘Guess we entertain our guest for a while an’ I think how to change the plan, just in case I’m wrong about him. Unless you’re seeing the benefits of becoming our new company chaplain, Jaian Kurobeil?’
The Jaian shrugged. ‘I’m a wandering priest – wandered alongside mercenaries more’n a few times. Can’t say any o’ them wanted a man o’ prayer around for long. Apparently it takes the fun outta sinning.’
‘How about for a week?’
‘The alternative bein’ hit over the head?’
‘Somethin’ like that. Teshen’s real good at it, pretty likely he won’t crack your skull.’
‘Reckon I’ll take the hospitality.’
Anatin smiled nastily. ‘Thought you might. Teshen, you an’ him take a walk out beyond the walls. Take my pistols and kill him if he does anything you don’t like. No offence, Jaian, but best we don’t take any chances. Teshen here’s more than capable of killing you and escaping from under the noses of a bunch of soldiers.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘Good.’ Anatin looked at the cards he’d been dealt and brightened. ‘Looks like this is your last hand, Jaian – everyone’s all in, right?’
‘Good news, Master Deern.’
Exalted Uvrel walked around behind the unpleasant little man sat at the mess table.
‘It’s done?’
‘No, there are complications, but those aren’t your concern.’
‘Eh?’
She paused at the window and looked out over the view of the Knights-Charnel compound. A high wall surrounded everything, whitewashed like all of their buildings to serve as a point of brightness amid the darkness of heretics. The inner face of the wall was painted with black letters, the script of Uvrel’s homeland.
‘We have made a deal with your comrade. You will be released now.’
‘Rider arrived?’
‘Indeed. Funeral arrangements are being made.’
‘But you’ve not taken Lynx yet?’
Uvrel didn’t answer immediately as she watched the Lord-Exalted himself hurry down the steps of the compound temple, a grey stone pyramid with a doorway-sized section cut into one wall. Her commander looked harassed, no doubt dealing with the latest squabble between the Princip’s fractious coalition.
‘Did you notice the words on our wall?’ she asked.
‘Words? Sure.’
‘It is a continuous prayer, an invocation of Insar’s favour. The words are written in such a way that the end could run seamlessly into the start should you read it aloud.’
‘So?’
‘So it serves as a reminder that the gods are eternal.’
‘Thought they were broken?’
Uvrel pursed her lips. ‘Their physical forms are shattered, but their souls guide us still. The Knights-Charnel of the Long Dusk is an ancient order and we have learned the value of patience. It appears your commander remains set on his plans, despite sending his company out of the city, which means this is important to him – or to someone, at least. Your comrade gave my agent the impression this mission is personal, but I prefer to be sure.’
‘Why?’
‘Because there is a delicate balance in the city right now. Several games are being played out. I would quietly see where this one leads if I can. The Knights-Charnel making a very public show of force would make some parties rather nervous. We are not the authority here, now is not the time to test the Council of the Assayed’s tolerance.’
There was a moment of quiet behind her. ‘Lost the girl, eh?’
‘There is that too,’ Uvrel admitted, cursing the man’s amused tone in her mind. ‘But I doubt it will be for long. We have Lynx under surveillance and she is alone in the city. Either she is lost thanks to the hastiness of my agent or she’ll return to Lynx. Insar will provide us with an opportunity to remedy matters or let it serve as a lesson in vigilance.’
‘In the meantime, you’re waiting for the boss to make his move?’
‘I am considering his assignment, whether it impacts on the wider city or not. Mage hunting is not my principal job.’ She shook her head and turned to face Deern as he stood and grabbed his belongings. ‘Should either of our fugitives escape the city and rejoin your company, I will expect your assistance when we catch up.’
‘Just like that, eh?’
‘Just like that.’
Deern shrugged, a half-smile on his face, but didn’t argue. ‘Just one more thing to do, then.’
‘Which is?’
‘If I got arrested, I’ll have picked up a shiner at the very least.’ He turned his head slightly, presenting Uvrel with his cheek like a relative asking to be kissed goodbye. ‘Only other explanation’d be I found myself a woman. So unless ya fancy helping me smell o’ sex and sweat, you get a free shot. Enjoy it.’
Her hand tightened into a fist. ‘Gladly.’
Deern winced up at the drizzle falling on the city and jerked his duffel bag into a more comfortable position. An autumn chill accompanied the rain and he was feeling dizzy after crossing the city to fetch his belongings, then retracing his steps. He shoved his hand in a pocket and felt a flush of warmth as his fingers closed around the cloth bundle where his gold rings were.
He stumbled on a protruding stone and a sharp jolt of pain raced up the side of his face, the skin feeling hot and throbbing.
Bitch broke my cheek
, Deern thought with a mounting sense of rage.
She don’t know how close she came to getting shot.
He blinked and hissed at the added discomfort that brought, but forced himself to keep trudging on. An extra five gold rings in his other pocket – maybe the price of that broken cheek, but all his.
Braqe ain’t getting a share o’ that now, not with my face hurting like a bastard.
He chuckled inwardly.
Not that she’d have got it anyway.
He walked on, Threegates now in sight, and joined the queue of foot travellers at the smallest of the three. When it came to his turn he was waved through with only a cursory glance. He’d expected nothing else. They were hunting Sitain, after all.
Once he was out of the city he walked another few hundred yards then felt another bout of dizziness. He stopped at a tavern that served the rough streets of houses clustered within sight of Threegates and bought a cup of brandy. The liquor was harsh and bitter, but it warmed his belly and sent a flush of warmth up into his aching face. Finishing the cup he was about to order a second when he spotted a familiar face heading up the road.
It took Deern a while to be sure he was seeing right. Exalted Urvel’s punch had packed a lot more weight than he’d expected and he felt like his brains had been scrambled, but as the figure came closer he realised it wasn’t just his imagination.
‘Teshen!’ he called.
The man didn’t notice him at first so Deern put his fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle that had half the street looking his way. He waved and the burly man hurried over, a stranger in his wake. Both were scowling as they ducked under the tavern’s awning, but Deern just nodded to the barman to refill his cup and raised it in greeting.
‘What you doing out this way?’ he said as he took another swallow.
‘Could ask you the same question,’ Teshen growled. ‘What happened?’
‘Don’t rightly know. One moment I was expressing my opinion all civilised like, the next someone cold-cocks me right there in the street.’ He touched his fingers to his cheek. ‘Never saw it coming but I reckon they used a pistol butt. Next thing I know I’m in some district lockup.’
‘What did you say?’ Teshen asked wearily.
‘Fucked if I can remember now, I’d had a few. Don’t think I was even trying to be rude, they just had a bodyguard who took a dislike to me. Think it was something to do with worshipping the gods all in one go.’
‘Were they Surei?’ the other man asked, a grey-eyed old Jaian by the look of him.
‘Aye, fuck’s it to you? Who are you, anyway?’
‘Most Surei are deeply against Quorism, that’d be enough to offend ’em.’ The man cocked his head at Deern. ‘Even without yer friendly, welcoming tone.’
‘Piss off. Teshen, who’s this preaching shite?’
The Knight of Tempest flashed him a brief, humourless grin. ‘Name’s Kurobeil, and he’s your problem now.’
‘Mine?’
‘Take him and catch up with the wagons. They’re only a couple of hours ahead of you. He’s to be Payl’s guest for a day or two, after that he can travel with us or not, as he likes.’
‘But before that, I can shoot him in the face if he annoys me?’
‘Nah, just cut his nuts off. If he tries to run or talk to a Charneler on the other hand, use your imagination.’
Deern eased himself off his seat and finished his second cup. ‘I can live with that.’
‘Will I?’ asked Kurobeil.
‘Depends. Fancy carrying my pack?’
‘Not really.’
‘Try again, my friend,’ Deern said, patting the sword-bayonet that hung from his belt.
‘Still no.’
Teshen laughed and turned to leave. ‘You two’ll get on okay. See you in a few days, Deern.’
‘Heading back?’
‘Aye. Boss is feeling paranoid, in case our luck’s as messed up as your face. The girl found her way to our base, but ain’t sure if she was followed so we’re switching taverns all sneaky like, in case we’re being watched. All that searching at the gates makes it look like bad news followed us up the road somehow.’
‘Reckon someone caught sight o’ her little trick with Braqe?’
‘Either that or they got folk sensitive to that sort o’ thing. Who knows, right? But we’re not going tonight so we’ve got time to spare and one bed’s as good as another. Taking too many precautions never hurt anyone.’
Deern nodded. ‘Luck to you.’ He patted the rounded butt of his mage-pistol and gestured for Kurobeil to start walking. ‘Come on sunshine, my mood ain’t getting any prettier and nor’s the day, so let’s catch the rest before sundown.’
Lieutenant Sauren caught sight of the Exalted heading down the street and turned into an alley. The sun had just fallen and the ground gleamed wetly under the faint shine of the Skyriver. She had been about to say the greeting to night but bit the words back. Though the god Insar was patron to the Knights-Charnel of the Long Dusk, she didn’t want to be pegged as overly pious by her commanding officer.
Sauren had seen enough of that in her career to be careful. The most devoted were never trusted by the hierarchy – never opposed overtly either, to do so would be foolish in a religious order, but dogma and morals impeded power. Well before she’d left the seminary-militant, Sauren had observed the perils of doing that.
She inclined her head when the Exalted joined her. Neither was in uniform, but she could sense Uvrel’s ire and thought the extra measure was necessary.
‘Report.’
Sauren sighed inwardly. ‘Nothing, sir. I’ve not seen any of them in the last few hours, nor can I work out why they were here.’
Uvrel didn’t reply, just turned to look out of the alley over the street beyond. There was little enough to see, beyond shops and workshops of the upper-scale variety and houses belonging to merchants and clerks. A horse and trap clattered past and they watched it go, a fleshy, bald driver hunched over the reins. Behind him sat a strikingly beautiful woman with deep red hair pinned up with jewels and a wine-dark stole wrapped around her shoulders. A courtesan, most likely, returning home to prepare for her latest gathering.
‘Not those?’ Uvrel asked, nodding after the trap. ‘The jewels in her hair?’
‘This isn’t a district known for them, according to Lubest. The most influential take houses on the lesser river, merchants too, so the ones here won’t be wealthy or be visited by anyone particularly important. Those jewels will mostly be paste, I suspect. There are no jewellers hereabouts or anything requiring eight or nine armed soldiers. It’s a good neighbourhood but quiet and unimportant. If there’s anything our Steel Crows are interested in here, it must be criminal in nature unless the answer’s more complex than we can reasonably guess.’
‘And they just walked this road, up and down – one pair after another?’
‘Yes, Exalted. They stopped nowhere and paid no obvious attention to any one building, coming so far as that tall house, but not lingering.’
‘So we will have to take them to learn more?’
‘I believe so. Should I start making preparations?’
Uvrel’s face tightened. ‘We’ve lost them. Somehow they must have realised they were being watched and slipped away without Harril’s squad seeing.’
‘That doesn’t bode well,’ Sauren muttered.
‘Which means this street is all we have,’ Uvrel continued, as though she’d not heard Sauren. ‘Harril’s in place a hundred yards further down, two more squads of dragoons are on their way to take up positions around us. They have orders not to move unless something happens or they see the Hanese and the mage together.’
‘Looks like we’ve a long night ahead of us.’
Uvrel nodded and returned her attention to the darkening street beyond, her jaw tight. Sauren watched her out of the corner of her eye. Within the structure of the Knights-Charnel they were part of the Torquen – a highly competitive sub-sect charged with preserving the integrity of the Order and its protectorate principalities. The Exalted were the Torquen’s elite and each was given significant autonomy, but any failure could prove costly. Sauren knew the ramifications of losing the mage would be on Uvrel’s mind – but allowing something to disrupt their plans in Grasiel too?
That
might lead to her entire detachment being assigned some sort of dead man’s posting.