silence.
‘What the hell was that?’ said Rix. ‘Was it an eruption?’ Though it wasn’t in the right place. The Vomits were west of here, not east.
Small white flashes twinkled around the base of the fireball, and shortly flames lit up the rising cloud. Uncanny flames, not orange or red, but a lurid, unnatural crimson.
‘I’ve never seen any fire like that before,’ Tobry said slowly.
The ground quivered and thunder rumbled, though not normal thunder. It had a brittle, crackling quality.
‘New volcanoes sometimes appear from nowhere.’
‘It’s not a volcano.’ Tobry consulted his map by a glimmer of mage light. ‘Close to Gullihoe, I’d say.’
‘Then what is it?’ The answer was obvious but Rix did not want to jinx them by putting it into words. He looked up and down the road but saw no lights, no travellers. ‘We’d better find out.’
As they rode across undulating country, the dry grass swishing around the horses’ fetlocks, more fireballs appeared behind them. Two were towards the south coast of the lake on the far side of the Seethings, three others in the direction of Caulderon. Rix wheeled Leather about and drew his sword.
‘It’s war! Come on.’
Tobry caught the reins. ‘They’ll be long gone by the time we can reach Caulderon.’
‘What if they’re not? What if they’re in the city?’ Was this what his nightmares meant? Were they blasting the palace walls right now, butchering his helpless people and murdering children they suspected of having the gift?
‘Caulderon isn’t
Rix strained forwards. ‘I’ve got to fight.’
‘We could learn vital intelligence in Gullihoe.’ Rix did not reply. ‘Besides,’ Tobry added, ‘the enemy might still be there. You could put that sword to good use.’
It was well after ten o’clock when they crested a gravel-topped hill and looked down on the smoke-wreathed ruins of the stone town. The central arch of the thousand-year-old bridge across the river had fallen. The granaries, warehouses and barges along the shore were ablaze, and hundreds of cottages, and the mayoral mansion lay in ruins.
‘What can have done this?’ said Rix. He sniffed the smoky air. ‘That’s not blasting powder.’
‘Something far stronger,’ Tobry said quietly. ‘I don’t like this, Rix.’
They rode down, keeping to the shadows, though it soon became evident that the attackers had gone. Dead lay everywhere in the main street, women, children and men, yet few bore any sign of injury.
‘What’s going on?’ said Rix, more unnerved than he would have been by a battlefield full of dead. ‘How can the enemy kill without leaving a trace?’
He crouched beside an elegantly dressed old woman who lay in the middle of the street as if she had fallen asleep. A red wig lay beside her; her own hair was white, wispy and scant. The only sign of trauma was a dribble of blood from her ears. The child beside her had a bloody nose and red eyes, but no bruises or evident wounds.
‘I’m not seeing any enemy dead,’ said Tobry, who was walking down the middle of the street, sword in hand. ‘Nor any spears, arrows or other abandoned weapons. Nothing to indicate a fight.’
Rix checked another group of bodies: a stout woman with grey hair, dressed like a nurse, and two little boys in nightgowns, all dead without a mark on them. Rix felt a sharp pain in the centre of his chest, as though they had been his own sons.
Tobry emerged from the doorway of a substantial home. ‘There’s been no looting either.’
‘What kind of enemy doesn’t loot afterwards?’
A long pause, then Tobry said, ‘One that values nothing of ours. Or expects to soon have it all.’
‘I don’t like that kind of talk.’
Someone groaned, not far away. He swung down and made his way towards a half-naked figure convulsing in the shadow cast by a broken wall, a short, balding man with skinny little legs and a massive belly.
‘Stop!’ Tobry said urgently.
Rix froze, blade out, eyes searching the shadows. Tobry conjured a tiny light from his fingertips and came up beside him.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Rix.
The light touched on the man’s bare back and side, where the skin was embedded with dozens of small spines like red pins.
‘Looks like he’s backed into a needlebush,’ Rix added.
The man made a clotted sound in his throat. His watering eyes were blank — he did not appear to have seen them. Rix was bending over when Tobry drove a shoulder into him, knocking him out of the way.
‘Don’t touch anything!’
Rix took another look at the man, whose skin was red and raised around each of the spines. Purple nodules were swelling visibly as though a handful of bean seeds were embedded under the skin. He felt his hackles rising.
‘Those aren’t needlebush spines,’ said Tobry.
‘What are they?’
The man kicked with a bare foot, rolled onto his back, screamed and wrenched himself onto his side again, thrashing and keening. His nails tore at one of the nodules, which burst, discharging red-black pus with a foul smell. Rix leapt backwards.
Tobry passed his elbrot over the man and subvocalised several words. A blurred shadow appeared around him, kicking and squirming, then came into focus. It lurched up from the ground, reeled about and staggered backwards down the street. His shirt rose from the ground, fitted itself to him. He began to scratch and claw at himself as the sky rained millions of tiny streaks. Rix made out a thin squeal, the lost echo of the man’s first cry, perhaps, and the shadow faded into the night.
Tobry crouched and sniffed. ‘A new kind of pox, not one I’ve seen before, and it came from that rain of needles fired into Gullihoe by the enemy. Back away, Rix. You can’t do anything for him.’
Rix’s stomach heaved at the sight and the smell. ‘There’s no hope?’
‘He’s going to die most unpleasantly.’
‘I’ll put him out of his misery, then.’
‘At the cost of your own life?’
‘Tobe?’ said Rix.
‘The pestilence may be contagious.’
‘What pox is it?’
‘How the hell would I know?’
‘But … this is against all the rules of war. What scum would do this?’
‘The Five Heroes did it to the enemy two thousand years ago. I dare say that’s where they got the idea.’
Rix felt blood bloom in his cheeks. ‘This isn’t the time to undermine morale.’
‘It’s in the
Rix put his hands over his ears. ‘Don’t tell me any more. Leave me some illusions.’
As they moved on, the man began to thrash and squeal. Rix quickened his pace, but down the street they saw more infected people, many more.
‘None of the dead are armed,’ said Rix. ‘They were taken by surprise. I can’t believe that the enemy would attack without declaring war.’
‘Axil Grandys did.’
‘Damn you, Tobe!’ Rix stalked away. ‘I’ve got to get home.’
‘The other blasts were much closer to home,’ said Tobry. ‘All Caulderon will know by now. Go if you must, but I’m staying. We can learn a lot about the enemy by the way they’ve attacked.’
Tobry was right. If they could decipher the enemy’s tactics it would be vital intelligence. ‘Why haven’t they
