Through the river’s dark silts, clambering like a vast crab, sifting centuries of secrets – the bed of an ancient river held so much, a multitude of tales written in layer upon layer of detritus. Muddy nets snagged upon older wreckage, sunken ships, the sprawl of ballast stones, ragged rows of sealed urns still holding their mundane riches. Bones rotting everywhere, gathered up in sinkholes where the currents swirled, and deeper still, in silts thick and hardening and swallowed in darkness, bones flattened by pressures and transformed into crystalline lattices, arrayed in skeletons of stone.
Even in death, the demon understood, nothing was still. Foolish mortals, short-lived and keen with frenzy, clearly believed otherwise, as they scrambled swift as thought above the patient dance of earth and stone. Water, of course, was capable of spanning the vast range of pace among all things. It could charge, out-running all else, and it could stand seemingly motionless. In this it displayed the sacred power of gods, yet it was, of itself, senseless.
The demon knew that such power could be harnessed. Gods had done so, making themselves lords of the seas. But it was the river that fed the seas. And springs from the layers of rock. The sea-gods were, in truth, subservient to those of the rivers and inland pools. The demon, the old spirit-god of the spring, intended to right the balance once more. With the power awaiting it beneath the city, even the gods of the sea would be made to kneel.
It savoured such thoughts, strange with clarity as they were – a clarity the demon had not possessed before. The taste of the river, perhaps, these bright currents, the rich seep from the shores. Intelligence burgeoning within it.
Such pleasure.
‘Nice stopper.’
She turned and stared, and Tehol smiled innocently.
‘If you are lying, Tehol Beddict…’
Brows lifted. ‘I would never do that, Shurq.’ Tehol rose from where he’d been sitting on the floor and began pacing in the small, cramped room. ‘Selush, you have a right to be proud. Why, the way you tucked in the skin around the gem, not a crease to be seen-’
‘Unless I frown,’ Shurq Elalle said.
‘Even then,’ he replied, ‘it would be a modest… pucker.’
‘Well,’ Shurq said, ‘you’d know.’
Selush hastened to pack her supplies back into the bag. ‘Oh, don’t I know what’s coming? A spat.’
‘Express your gratitude, Shurq,’ Tehol said.
Fingertips probing the gem in its silver setting in her forehead, Shurq Elalle hesitated, then sighed. ‘Thank you, Selush.’
‘Not the spat I was talking about,’ the wild-haired woman said. ‘Those Tisteans. They’re coming. Lether has been conquered, and I dread the changes to come. Grey skin, that will be the new fashion – mark my words. But I must maintain my pragmatism,’ she added, suddenly brightening. ‘I’m already mixing a host of foundations to achieve that ghastly effect.’ A pause, a glance over at Shurq Elalle. ‘Working on you was very helpful, Shurq. I thought I’d call the first line
‘Cute.’
‘Nice.’
‘But don’t think that means you’re taking a cut of my profits, Shurq.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘I have to be going now,’ Selush said, straightening with her bag slung over one shoulder. ‘I intend to be hiding in my basement for the next few days. And I would advise the same for you two.’
Tehol looked round. ‘I don’t have a basement, Selush.’
‘Well, it’s the thought that counts, I always say. Goodbye!’
A swish of curtain and she was gone.
Shurq Elalle asked, ‘How late is it?’
‘Almost dawn.’
‘Where’s your manservant?’
‘I don’t know. Somewhere, I would think.’
‘Really?’
Tehol clapped his hands. ‘Let’s head onto the roof. We can see if my silent bodyguard changes expression upon seeing your beauty.’
‘What has he been doing up there all this time?’
‘Probably standing directly above the doorway here, in case some unwelcome visitor arrived – which, fortunately, did not happen. Brys’s messenger girl hardly qualified.’
‘And what could he have done about some attacker from up there?’
‘I imagine he would have flung himself straight down in a flurry of swords, knives and clubs, beating the intruder senseless in an instant. Either that, or he’d shout then run back to the ladder, climb down and exact revenge over our corpses.’
‘Your corpse. Not mine.’
‘You’re right, of course. My mistake.’
‘I am not surprised you are confused now, Tehol,’ Shurq said sweeping back her hair with both hands, the gesture admirably flinging out her chest. ‘Given the pleasure you discovered in my wares earlier.’
‘Your “wares” indeed. A good term to use, since it could mean virtually anything. Now, shall we head up to greet the dawn?’
‘If you insist. I can’t stay long. Ublala will be getting worried.’
‘Harlest will advise him how the dead have no sense of time, Shurq. No need to fret.’
‘He was muttering about dismembering Harlest just before I left them.’
They walked to the ladder, Shurq taking the lead.
‘I thought he was trapped in a sarcophagus,’ Tehol pointed out.
‘We could still hear him. Dramatic hissing and scratching on the underside of the lid. It was, even for me, somewhat irritating.’
‘Well, let’s hope Ublala did nothing untoward.’
They climbed.
The sky was paling to the east, but a chill remained in the air. The bodyguard stood facing them until he had their attention, then he pointed towards the river.
The Edur fleet crowded the span, hundreds of raider craft and transports, a dark sweep of sails. Among the lead ships, oars had appeared, sliding out from the flanks of the hulls. The landings would begin within the bell.
Tehol studied them for a moment, then he faced northwest. The white columns of the battle the day before were gone, although a stain of dark smoke from the keep lingered, lit high above the horizon by the sun’s first shafts. Above the west road was a streak of dust, drawing closer as the sun rose.
It was some time before either Tehol or Shurq spoke, then the latter turned away and said, ‘I have to go.’
‘Stay low,’ Tehol said.
She paused at the top of the ladder. ‘And you, Tehol Beddict, stay here. On this roof. With that guard standing close.’
‘Sound plan, Shurq Elalle.’
‘Given the chance, Gerun Eberict will come for you.’
‘And you.’
From the far west gate, a raucous flurry of bells announced the approach of the Edur army.
The thief disappeared down through the hatch.
Tehol stood facing west. His back grew warmer, and he knew that this day would be a hot one.
One of her hands rested on the king’s shoulder, but Brys could see that Nisall was near collapse. She had stood vigil over Ezgara Diskanar most of the night, as if love alone could guard the man against all dangers. Exhaustion had taken the king into sleep, and he now sat the throne like a corpse, slumped, head lolling. The crown had fallen off some time in the night and was lying beside the throne on the dais.
