Iron Winter

afterlife is similar to the life we have lived on earth. Hatti missionaries of Jesus argue that this is a childish notion. But really, which is the simpler assumption — that the afterlife is like the world we know, or like a world none of us has ever experienced? We believe, however, that at death a person’s spirit splits in two. The spiritual embodiment of Anterastilis, the rouah, now resides in the world of the dead. But the physical embodiment of her spirit, the nepesh, stays with the body — and as you can see she requires nourishment, just as a living person.’

‘Biscuits,’ Pyxeas said.

‘Biscuits.’

Rina faced Carthalo squarely. ‘You brought us here for a reason, I presume.’

Carthalo gave her that thin, intimidating smile. ‘It’s true that I thought it would be appropriate to have our discussion in the context of this solemn farewell to a woman who was your employer and your friend.’

Barmocar looked away.

‘This, our most ancient rite, is central to our culture, we Carthaginians.’

‘This and crucifixion,’ said Pyxeas. ‘And child sacrifice-’

Rina hushed him.

‘We have retained the semblance of an orderly society, despite our terrible losses, losses nobody would have believed a few short years ago. This is still Carthage, we are still Carthaginians. We asked you here today — indeed, at the command of Fabius himself — because I wanted you to see us at our best. For there is something I must ask of you. Something that Carthage must ask of Northland.’

Rina flared. ‘More than you have already asked? The gods took my daughter’s life, but Carthage took my son, to fight in her wars. Speaking of which-’ she pointed at Mago ‘-why is he here?’

Mago grinned again. His face was scarred, she saw, the length of his right cheek. He blew her a kiss. ‘Glad to see me, Grandmother?’

‘Get him out,’ Carthalo murmured to Barmocar.

‘But I brought him here — the funeral-’

‘Out. Now.’

Barmocar turned and gestured to his nephew, who left the tent gracelessly.

‘I know why he’s here,’ said Rina. ‘And the sons of the rest of you, I dare say. Because you are losing your war with the Hatti. That’s the truth, isn’t it? And you privileged ones are pulling your sons out of the killing fields.’

Barmocar seemed prepared to deny it, but Carthalo raised a hand. ‘It’s true enough,’ he said softly. ‘Not that this is news we want to shout out. We are not withdrawing our sons, not all of us. My own two boys, as well as a nephew already dead. .’ He hesitated, apparently overcome with emotion, but it could have been a skilful act, Rina reminded herself. ‘Rina, we fight valiantly — our sons do. But the plague is cutting through our young men like a scythe through wheat ripe for the harvest. It has even reached the troops in the field, that and other diseases and blights.’

Pyxeas said, ‘The plague has afflicted the whole world. The losses must be affecting the Hatti too.’

‘Of course. But the Hatti’s sheer numbers overwhelm us.’

Rina’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you asking us to help you fight this war?’

‘You, and Northland.’

‘We don’t speak for Northland,’ Rina said. ‘Besides, all the resources of Northland are locked up in the snow.’

‘Actually not all,’ Pyxeas said. He tapped his liver-spotted temple. ‘This is where our real resource is. Knowledge. And that’s what this Carthaginian wants to get his hands on. Am I right?’

Carthalo nodded. ‘We need to win this war — or at least stop the Hatti. And to do that we need, frankly, a weapon they don’t have. That’s what I hope you can give us. What Fabius hopes for.’

Rina shook her head. ‘Why should we help you? The Hatti have been our allies for. .’

‘For two millennia,’ Carthalo said smoothly. ‘I know my history, you see. And do you know how that came about? In a different time of crisis, long ago, there was an exchange. Etxelur gave Hattusa the potato to feed a starving population. And in return Hattusa gave Etxelur a plague. An invisible demon to wipe out an invading army. You see, this sort of arrangement has been made before.’

‘But if the Hatti have been our allies for so long-’

‘Why betray them now? But what of the long-term interests of Northland? If Carthage were to be overrun, even destroyed, you would have a Hatti empire dominating the Middle Sea. When the world recovers from this longwinter, would such an empire not have further ambitions? Why should it not look north? Would it not be in Northland’s best interests to keep a balance of the continental powers?’

Pyxeas laughed. ‘That’s a good argument. Or would be, if not for the fact that the longwinter never is going to end — not in our lifetime anyhow. And that kind of petty human calculation is going to be scrubbed out by the ice. You’ll have to do better than that, sir, if you’re to get what you want from us.’

Rina felt left behind. ‘But what is it they want, Uncle?’

Pyxeas tapped his temple again. ‘He wants me, Pyxeas, to tell him how to make the fire drug of Cathay. And eruptors, weapons to exploit it.’

‘Ah. And can you tell him?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He stepped closer to Carthalo, intense. ‘In fact, I can do better than that. I, Pyxeas, have long anticipated this moment. I have put in place a plan — I had my students send letters to Northlanders in Carthage. To you too, Rina, though I don’t think you ever received it. But others did. House of Crow studies. And they have been working, in secret, for months.’

Carthalo’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean? What kind of work?’

‘We already have the weapons. We Northlanders. We have the fire drug. We have the eruptors. In this city. These could be in your hands in days — a month at most. I, Pyxeas, have organised this.’

Carthalo was clearly stunned. But he was a good politician and remained in control. ‘If you were to grant us this-’

Rina touched Pyxeas’ arm. ‘We would be making a decision on behalf of all Northland.’

He turned to her with eyes huge and sad. ‘I’m afraid we must, my dear. For Northland, the old Northland, is already lost — save for us. What we must face now is the future. And the building of that future begins here and now.’

Carthalo smiled. ‘Quite right. Name your price.’

Pyxeas glanced at Rina. ‘This is your moment.’

‘Bring him home,’ she snapped. ‘Bring him back from your wars.’

Carthalo nodded. ‘Your son. I understand. Consider it done.’

But even as he spoke Rina saw Barmocar sneer at her, a sly smile he didn’t trouble to hide. She saw his opinion of her there and then. She might have the power of life and death over him and his kind, but to him she was small, a petty woman obsessed with family, and always would be so. She had been abused by this man’s wife. Humiliated for his amusement. She had sworn revenge on them both. That little smile, she thought. That little smile was going to cost this man so much.

Pyxeas, meanwhile, had greater prices to exact. ‘You may have the fire drug. But you will use it to make peace with the Hatti, if you possibly can.’

‘What? They are barbarians,’ Barmocar said. ‘One may as well try to make peace with a rabid wolf-’

‘No. They follow Jesus. Warlike they may be, but peace is at the heart of the creed of their god. And they too have suffered with the plague. You may have the fire drug, to threaten them with overwhelming destruction, but you will offer them the chance of peace at the same time. Stop the bloodshed. And to symbolise that-’ he glanced at Rina, ‘-you will give them the bones of the Virgin Mother of Jesus, which Rina took illegally and gave to Barmocar in fair payment for her passage here.’

Carthalo raised his eyebrows at Barmocar. ‘I knew nothing of this.’

‘It was private business.’

‘Not any more. You will deliver the bones to the Temple of Melqart in the morning. Consider that done too, Pyxeas.’