“Then you need a larger escort.”
She mounted, and Briskle and Yuthran mounted behind her at a nod from Quintal. The Seer gave them no time for long farewells, but heeled her horse up the rise and set off.
“Sunlight on your swords, brothers,” said Yuthran, and spurred his horse after the Seer. Briskle merely nodded to his brothers, and headed after them.
Suddenly, Tirielle felt their loss, although Briskle and Yuthran rarely spoke to anyone, often conversing between just the two of them. To some, it would have seemed rude, but there was a bond there that could not be broken. To lose one would have meant the loss of both, anyway.
“Hide our saddles, Cenphalph. With luck, we will pass this way again. Set the horses free. They will find their way back home. I think your mare will be smart enough to follow. Don’t worry, Tirielle, you will see her again.”
“I will make sure of it,” said Roth, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She had not realised how much she needed the comfort of the giant’s touch until that moment.
Briskly, she nodded her head. “Then let’s get going. There is no time. Already, Drun and Shorn will be at the portal. We cannot let them fight alone.”
“Let’s go,” said Quintal. Slowly, they walked to the rise, then they crawled as fast as they could to the fence.
Roth stumbled across the culvert first. It fed into a small stream, and it reeked of rot and slime. Tirielle crawled through the mud, crossing the stream. Long gone were the days when she worried over a muddy dress. If anything, it was like being a child again, playing in the woods, making stories up in her head.
In her stories, though, never would she have crawled through such muck to face her own death.
It was true, what her father said. An adult was someone who put away childish fantasies, and knew their death was certain. But even knowing death faced her, she was a woman. She would not shy away.
But, as she gazed into the dark, dank tunnel, how she wished she could.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
High above the central city of Lianthre stood the poor houses and tents and shacks and carts that passed for homes. Outside a taller house Reih sat at a market stall, under the canopy, protecting her from the rain coming down here. The rain here was dirty and stained clothes. As the only person with clean clothes she stood out. There was no chance of getting robbed though, she thought — Reih was the only one with a personal guard as well.
She had looked out before and seen exactly what the Kuh’taenium had shown her. She had smelled the spice. Now she sat inside, her protector cold and silent behind her by the opening. She sipped some of the syrupy drink, some oil from Qit Wile Mines. It was said to enhance and envigourate the soul. Her soul was that of the Kuh’taenium though. It took much more than a drink to dull her sense.
The streets here stank, but Reih smiled to herself anyway, ignoring the sewage rot smell. The slums spread high on the hill, like a nose trying to escape the bodies own smell. It spread onto the hill in the east and higher than even the tallest towers in the centre of Lianthre, where the hierarch lived in their towering monoliths, plain and huge tower of sweeping beams and shining metal rooves. The slums stood higher though. Now she could see the city below she could see the sprawl, the buildings spreading like a stain, held back by the rich protected in their groves. Even the real rain migrated to them, like it prefered money. The rain was clean and sweet out on the West, where they all lived, the dirty rain fell to the east, on the poor.
The Hierarchs, the council themselves complicit, had pushed out the poor hundreds of years ago, the ones nobody wanted. They ignored them and dragged themselves down together. Would that it had been different, she thought. I too, am complicit. Perhaps it is not all a bad thing, though, she thought next; here in the slums Reih saw pride. The streets were filthy with mud and damp warm constant rain and passing carts splashed mud against the fronts of the buildings. Even in high summer the rain fell here. But inside each mud covered house she knew the building would be exquisite, they always were. The mud was just a shield. If you were poor you didn’t clean the outside of your house — that was just asking for trouble. You didn’t want to stand out. The poor themselves were greater at holding back their number than any hurdles the affluent set for them.
No, inside their homes was were they lived their secret lives. The artisans of the city thought they were talented. They worked with the finest materials, carving through heartwood or stone to manufacture something beautiful in its own way, but manufactured none the less. It was something they did everyday. There was no love in their carvings. These people carved their own, with flimsy knives and spikes and hammers. The materials they used were all they could get, and yet they created beauty. If a carving I was working on splintered, I would buy some new wood. These people couldn’t buy new wood. When their wood broke, they had to change the picture.
She sipped some more of the sweet liquid down and turned away from the view to look at Sventhan. The stout man looked back at her over his mashed nose. “The Kuh’taenium said you needed help.”
“How is it that you can hear it?” Reih shifted in her seat to question the man.
“Nevermind that lady, what do you want?”
“I don’t know, I never thought about it. The Kuh’taenium said you could help. It didn’t say why.”
Sverthan sighed and unstoppered a pitch black jug. He topped up the drink she held out. The liquid held in the jug for a second, then with a gloop some fell out into the cup. It didn’t splash. “Then why did you come here?”
“It told me to. How can you help?”
“I can help in many ways lady. I am a builder. I know the Kuh’taenium as you do. It speaks to our blood. It is time to call on our support. There is a war coming, and like it or not you are in the middle.”
“I am a councillor. No warrior. I don’t know who I can trust. I only know the threat is real.”
“Then I will do what I can for you. Who’s the lump?“
“My guard, Perr.”
Sverthan stared at him, utterly still. Then, a knife flashed. It flew from under his counter straight at the armoured man’s helm. Perr didn’t flinch but let the blade bounce against the metal, blunting the tip.
Perr, mildly annoyed, looked across to Reih.
“It’s alright.” She said to Perr and turned to Sverthan. “Now really. You shouldn’t upset him. “
“He didn’t even catch it! He’s useless. You are in danger and the man can’t even catch a knife! You should leave now, while you can. How well do you think the Kuh’taenium would fare without you!?”
Perr sighed behind Reih.
“How well do you think it would fare without me. Dead or fleeing, it would make little difference. I’ll not do either gladly. If I leave the Kuh’taenium will surely fall.”
“It will never be unprotected. It has its own defences — after all, we built it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, man. It’s thousands of years old.”
“Yes it is, councellor, and you would do well to remember that. Let me say the people I represent have a vested interest in it. So just remember, you might think you have her best interests at heart, but if you take one wrong turn we’ll not sit idly and watch her die.”
“Her?”
“Yes, her. I’m sure there are many things that you would not believe, lady, but I haven’t the time or the patience to go into it. You believe her. That is all you need for now. Now, listen to me carefully. The building is the focus of our power, and she must not fall. The builders are on your side now. We are no army. That is up to you. We can protect you, but the time has come to fight. We must destroy the threat if the people are to survive.”
“And bring war?”
“You have no choice. Raise the armies. The rahkens nation already rails against our oppressors. They know our people of old. You will be surprised,” said Sventhan. “The land longs to fight. It cannot bear the weight of the Protectorate much longer…but it is the Hierarchy that are the true enemy, and their fathers, who soon return from the stars.”
“It is no longer possible to remain idle, for to do so will mean the end of this land and every other. You think
