civilization we’re building, is currently three-quarters the way up the south wall of the Citadel. We’d like to get her back, somehow, without her presence being known to the entire building.’
‘Give me a second to get changed into something more appropriate and I’ll join you.’
The commander nodded. ‘I’ll leave an escort outside the door to guide you to our location.’ Then he left the room.
Fulcrom closed the door and began to laugh to himself. Lan placed a hand on his back and breathed, ‘We’ve waited long enough. Another day won’t hurt us.’
Lan wore her Knights outfit proudly, and had acquired a few loops of rope, which she slung across her chest. Their escort led them to the balcony, where a small number of the Night Guard had gathered. They weren’t enjoying the view of the harbour — they were looking directly towards the sky.
No one said anything on her arrival until the commander introduced her as a hero of Villjamur, and then they gave her a salute that made her blush.
‘I’ll explain to them fully who you are once you’re up there,’ he said. ‘We need to be quick about this.’
‘How did she get up there?’ Lan asked.
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘Have you got any idea where she is precisely?’ Lan craned her neck to get a better view. The sheer height of the Citadel was intimidating. It was a fairly featureless structure, apart from the crenellations situated at the very top.
‘Be careful when you’re up there,’ Brynd warned. ‘We don’t know how volatile she will be.’
‘Volatile?’ Lan said. ‘I thought she was just a bit mad.’
‘Well, that may be the case — however, she has been spotted by one person engaged in potentially violent conduct. This could be something similar or nothing to worry about at all — either way, we’d like the ruler of what’s left of the Empire safely ensconced in a secure cell as soon as possible.’
‘Right,’ Lan replied. ‘Anything else that I should know about?’
Brynd shook his head. ‘This remains as much a mystery to us as it does to you.’
‘You’ll be OK?’ Fulcrom whispered.
‘Don’t worry,’ she replied, squeezing his hands. Then she moved into a clear space on the balcony, closed her eyes to tune in to her powers, and glanced directly up. The wind buffeted her, sending her hair spiralling in front of her face. She tied it back, and then stepped up into the air and glided onto the stone rail of the balcony; a window ledge up above caught her eye and she levered herself up even further; she misjudged the angle, slipped and clattered into the glass, though it didn’t shatter. Luckily, no one down below saw her error.
Peering up, left and right, she couldn’t see anyone. The wind was even stronger, a bitterly cold breeze from the east. The lantern lights of the harbour and the windows of the city were mesmerizing, but she didn’t let them distract her. Instead, she scanned the walls for another window ledge; the jump up would be difficult, she thought, because she had to go in an arc. She gave it a go, knowing curve jumps were more dangerous, and luckily the wind blew her back against the building anyway.
Another look around, and this time she thought she saw something horizontally to the east. She flattened herself against the structure, hoping not to be seen; she wanted a better look.
It looked like the pale skin of someone’s arm.
Lan looked up again, and noticed that she was only twenty feet away from the crenellations at the top of this section. Another push and she scrambled up the wall with all her might — she reached the top, banging her shin against the stone, but she was careful not to let out a cry of pain.
Once at the top, she found she could dash easily along the rim of the wall. She lifted one loop of rope off over her head and tied a quick, firm knot as she ran. Then she paused to check over the side along this section of the wall.
Her passage through the air was as gentle as she could manage with her powers; she focused on Rika, with the rope ready in her hands. It happened as planned: as she fell inches behind Rika, Lan dragged the rope over her body, snapping it tightly around the woman’s torso. Her own rope snagged, stopping her descent. Rika was bound and snarling, like a trapped wolf, pressed up against the stone. The Empress lurched back, her face twisted and cortorting, her teeth a little too long to be human.
From her pocket, Lan withdrew a small hessian sack. With one hand firmly on Rika’s throat, Lan climbed up her bound body, and eased the sack over the viciously struggling woman. She pulled the ends tight, being careful not to strangle her. Satisfied she had the woman bagged, Lan tied her own rope around Rika’s waist, tied her hands, layered the rope around her again and again, and moved down to bind her ankles. Lan breathed out, relieved.
It had been simpler than Lan thought. Tuning in to her powers, she hauled Rika up with a jump and dropped her gently onto the walkway at the top of the crenellations. Lan landed gracefully alongside her.
The night sky was gathering clouds; a few flecks of snow began to fall, but Lan had her woman. Rika was now trying to tear her way out of her restraints, and Lan wanted to deliver her to the commander as soon as possible. The only way to get her down was back through the Citadel, so Lan dragged the Empress along the stone floor like a pugnacious dog.
‘Nice work, Lan,’ Brynd said. ‘I’m impressed. That was a skilful display.’
Despite his positive words, he seemed deeply uneasy, as if uncertain what he would now do.
They had placed the bound Empress in a gaol cell within the Citadel. Only Brynd, Fulcrom, and two Night Guard soldiers were there.
Lan leant back against the bars with her arms folded, happy that she had proved herself to the most important person on the island.
‘We used to keep these cells,’ Brynd said, ‘to imprison any Okun we captured from the war. We wanted to observe them, study them to see if we could get any information from them to use in the war. We got very little, it turned out. But I never thought we’d be using this room to imprison our own Empress. Would you mind stepping out of the cell for a moment? This could get a little tricky.’
‘Of course,’ Fulcrom replied.
Lan followed Fulcrom then turned to watch.
Brynd gestured to his soldiers and they both nodded their acknowledgement of the order, stretching out Rika’s body horizontally, grabbing her legs and arms, pressing her down on the floor at one end of the cell until she stopped resisting. When she quietened, Brynd moved towards her feet and cut those restraints. Then Tiendi, who held her arms, looped a piece of rope around Rika’s waist before handing it to Brynd, who then tied it around the cell window bars. The soldiers by her feet stepped away and both of them came out of the cell. Now only Brynd remained. He signalled something again with his hands before quickly cutting the restraints on her wrists, leaving just the bag over her head.
He walked out of the cell, slammed the barred door shut and locked it.
Everyone waited. The bars were as thick as Lan’s thumb, spaced an inch apart, and crafted from iron, so Lan had no fears that their lives were threatened. It all suddenly seemed as if she were back in her circus days, watching one of the beasts in its cage. Rika pushed herself to her hands and knees, before staggering to her feet. Then she began pulling at the bag restraints, and managed to untie them quickly.
Rika pulled away the bag and dropped it on the floor. She turned, slowly, to face her captors.
‘Dear Bohr. .’ Brynd breathed.
Her face was clearly once beautiful, yet it had distorted into something hideous: her eyes were enlarged slightly, her teeth so big that her mouth had become misshapen, and her nostrils flared like some furious beast. With alarming speed she flung herself against the bars and everyone either flinched or took a step back; as if Rika could have actually snapped the metal and leapt for their throats.
