Tale of a Blackbird, page 4
“Keep an eye on things. Make sure the quality of leadership doesn’t slip.”
The inspector nodded, saluted, before guiding his horse back across the Spine, away from the eastern Bone Portcullis. Kye spurred his horse along the bridge, passing beneath the ridged supports. Leaving the bridge, he dismounted and tethered the horse at the gatehouse. The tower’s door creaked open, awakening the handful of dozing guards inside. They saluted him as he stalked past and started up the stairs. Vines waited for him atop the tower, leaning against the parapet. His eyes were heavily bruised from the scuffle with the guards, but it would take more than a lone squad to break that troll-like skull.
“Sir,” Vines greeted.
“Good to see you up and about,” smiled Kye. “Look out there, Vines,” Kye pointed. “Look out there and tell me what you see?”
Vines shook his head. “Mountains?”
“Beyond the mountains, what lies there?”
“The… border?”
“Exactly, Vines. That’s where our enemy is coming from. Over those mountains lies plague and death, but what else?”
Vines pondered the question. “Cold weather?”
“Perceptive as ever, Vines. Yes, it would be cold, but what I see out there is opportunity.” Kye took the scroll out from inside his cloak. “Look at this. It’s an old map, made long ago when the Twelve first ruled. See here? Look how far the territory used to span.” His finger passed the thick line of mountains and forest that bordered the Bone Wall on all sides, past the land of Eclipsi, to the once great ancient cities beyond.
“The cities had fallen millennia ago. But I bet my left nut there’s still vast wealth hidden there, surely—lost technology, weapons and what-not. This is what will be ours once we exterminate the sages and chase down whatever’s left. Once we take care of them, then we explore!” Kye smacked the scroll against Vines’ forehead and looked out at the land.
“And the ministry agreed to an expedition? Not like them to set their sights on the mainland, with the Alliance biting at their heels.”
“The ministry’s filled with old farts who couldn’t point out their own mothers, never mind seeing an opportunity when it’s right there for the taking. But, yes, I’ve persuaded Nefaro to give me a chance, at least. We mustn’t fail, Vines. Not this time.”
Vines nodded.
Kye leaned out over the precipice and smiled.
I will make the people love me and gain their trust. Gain the trust of the ministry.
I will gain my vengeance.
Chapter 5: Making Friends
Leek picked up the clothes and stared at them. They were old, covered in patches badly stitched and stains best ignored. After being given the tour of a cramped courtyard and barren food-hall, the fat woman with the hairy chin had taken a razor to his skull, shaving off what little hair was left on his head. The room for the boys had about fifty cots in it, all empty now as they were eating down in the food-hall.
Just then the door opened and two boys walked in, they noticed Leek and walked over.
“I’m Kellick.” The taller one with the freckles stuck out his hand. Leek eyed it suspiciously. “Din worry, we all stick together here, like flies trapped in a bucket o’ shite. Ain’t that right, Paste?” The tall freckled kid, Kellick, didn’t wait for his companion to respond. Kellick nodded to the squat man with the frown, who seemed to be around Leek’s age but thrice his weight. “He’s thick as an ox, but loyal as one too. Ain’t that right, Paste?”
“Fuck yerself, Kel’.” Paste squinted up at Leek. “Where ye from?”
At seeing Leek’s apprehension, Kellick smiled. “We’re all friends here. Life’s cruel enough without us at each other’s throat, eh?”
“I’m Leek,” he said, shaking both their hands. “Not really from a town in particular, used to travel around a lot. Spent some time working at an inn in Willow’s Creek, but it got raided.”
“So you’re a Mainlander?” Kellick nodded as if it explained some suspicion. “We’re both men of the Circle. Ain’t that right, Paste?”
Paste frowned deeper, crossing his arms.
Kellick thumbed his chest. “I’m from Tore. Paste here’s from the Isle of Bones. Used to be a blacksmith’s apprentice, weren’t ye Paste? Poor fucker was thrown out on his arse though for sleeping with his master’s niece, heh. What, not like it’s a secret, is it? I was a beggar, me, not ashamed to say. Family got killed over the years and I was the only one left. So I came here to find a better means of making an un-honest living, and ended up getting snatched by the Maskers. Should’ve stayed down in Sunnyside, I should’ve.”
“What’s it like where you lived?” asked Leek.
Paste shrugged. “Not so bad. Mostly whalers and fishing ships where I’m from. It’s a hard life on the bony island, but a fair one… when you’re not getting ran out, that is.”
“Tore’s paradise,” smiled Kellick. “But only if ye’ve got the coin and contacts. No place for someone preying on the sailors and soldiers who fill the Red Bastards coffers.”
“Red… Bastard?” Leek couldn’t help but smile.
“Yup, rules the city from his throne of tits and ass. Gorges his disciples on rivers of spirits, feasts of exotic food, and as much silver-dust as you could shove up a—”
The door opened at the far end of the room and Chinny, the woman with the bushel of hair on her chin, appeared, silencing Kellick. “Get down to the food-hall, now.” She shut the door behind her.
“Well Leek, my lad, it seems you’re about to experience the fine delicacies of this establishment.” Kellick led them out of the room, glancing back. “By which I mean, of course, you’re about to eat shit.”
* * *
The metal rod cracked against the surface of the rough wooden table, making Leek jump. A fat, greasy face grinned down at him, black teeth stinking of rot behind a jumble of grizzled hair.
“Are you new, boy? Don’t think I’ve ever beaten you ‘fore, ‘ave I?”
Leek nodded nonchalantly.
“Early days, yet, yes it is.” The guard continued patrolling the room.
A girl sitting beside Leek whispered across to him without looking up from her parchment. “Don’t look around, just write! Even if you don’t know how, do something.”
Leek picked up the quill, dipped the end in ink and began copying what was written on the wall, OBEDIANCE.SUBMISSION.REPENTANCE, just like all the other fifty-or-so girls and boys were doing. Leek and the dozen people around him were the eldest of the group and occupied the back benches in the chamber. With his head tilted sideways, he stole a look at the girl. Her limp dark hair hung over her face, but the shadowed eye glanced up at him.
“I’m Leek, by the way.” He smiled.
“Merron.” The girl spoke without moving her lips or stopping in her writing. “Some advice. Watch out for Gurth. He’s a monster.”
“Gurth? That the guard?” Leek glanced up at the fat man now on the other side of the room.
“No,” she stifled a giggle. “He doesn’t hold a candle to Gurth.”
“Why, does he hurt anyone?”
She stiffened at his question and looked away.
Just then the heavy door in the corner opened and a robed man skulked into the room. His face was pale, wrinkled and wretched as he leered about from under the large drooping hood. The eyes beneath it matched the grim and cold room. Leek looked back down at the parchment, heeding Merron’s advice, whose hands Leek noticed were shaking holding her quill.
“May the Gods bless His Supreme Nefaro,” Gurth’s voice was oddly weak, but something about it made Leek think of snakes slithering in a dark basement.
“Obedience, submission, repentance,” everyone replied, and Leek managed in joining the last. The Gods knew he had lots of repentance in supply lately.
Gurth stood behind a lectern, giving them all a smile that was more frightful than his leer. “Be thankful for the compassion and mercy of the Ministry of Faces, for the taint of your power is a stain on humanity and your memory shall fall into the cracks of history.”
The crowd murmured the three words once more, and Leek was quickly catching on.
Gurth climbed down from the lectern and began prowling the room. Every person around him leaned forwards and dipped their heads, almost touching the paper with their foreheads.
Leek copied the words from the board, praying for the hundredth time that someone would come and save him.
* * *
The next morning, after he’d eaten his bowl of slop, Cod-with-a-Rod—what Kellick named the fat guard with the metal rod—told them to line up against the wall. Kellick and Paste stood beside him, Merron at the far end of the wall. She glanced sideways at Leek, giving a small smile which caused a flutter in his chest. She had nice eyes, had Merron, dark green, like the moss that covered the swamps near Willow’s Creek.
Gurth entered, muttering something to Chinny. He began pacing in front of them, staring at each of them in turn. “May the Gods bless His Supreme Nefaro,” the old man croaked from beneath his hood.
After the usual mantra Gurth nodded to Cod’, who carried in a chest from an adjoining room. He began pulling out a long, thick metal chain. Shackles attached at different points were locked first around Merron’s wrists and ankles, and then each other person in the line.
When he got to Leek, Gurth eyed him for a moment. “I won’t have any trouble with you now, will I boy? You’ve shown obedience in your lessons, so far.”
Leek nodded, staring down at his feet. He could feel the man’s eyes boring into him, like ice shards in a storm. Gurth bound Leek’s hands and feet—his touch just as cold as his gaze. Gurth walked down the line, picking up the chain at the front and pulling Merron after him. They filed after her, Cod’ tapping each of them to move faster. Passing through a series of corridors and up stone stairs chipped and slimy, they passed through a long hall and came to the entryway. Two burly men in black masks stood guarding the door, a massive slab of iron with a thick metal bar across it. At the sight of the procession, one tapped the other and they began lifting latches, pulling the heavy bulk of metal aside. Gurth paid them no heed as he swept past.
Leek almost smiled at the wash of fresh air on his face, but before he could even look up at the starry sky, he was pulled after the rest, down the flight of stairs and along the street.
“Obey!” shouted Gurth, and they repeated it, walking along the street quickly filling with people. “Obey!” The people laughed and jeered. A small girl sitting in a window watched them pass, eyes wide. The girl’s mother lifted a pot, which she emptied out of the window—the piss getting on some unfortunates further up the chain-gang.
“Obey!”
Food was lobbed at them. An old, foul smelling apple hit Leek in the side of the head and splattered sour juice down his neck. Kellick slipped, fell and got dragged across the ground. Paste, too busy in shielding off the barrage of missiles, tugged on Kellick all the more.
Leek managed in getting hold of his arm, hauling him back on his feet.
Kellick, to Leek’s surprise, had a wide grin on his face, even as he wiped his bloodied hands on his pants. Kellick smiled at him crookedly. “Having fun yet?”
Chapter 6: Dreams and Nightmares
Darkened woods surrounded Birdie. The cottage was alight in the distance. White swirls drifted out and up from the windows, the ghostly apparitions formed into screaming figures before vanishing. She must’ve been going in circles this entire time! A bead of sweat rolled down her spine, making it itch. She turned away and ran through the trees, not caring which way she was headed. Jumping a fallen log, her bare foot landed on a sharp rock, the jagged point digging into the skin of her sole. She screamed as she tripped over, landing face first into mud.
Birdie a voice echoed deep within the woods. Stop running!
Pushing herself up, the forest began to brighten. “Who’s there?”
You have to face your fears!
Birdie stood up. The light behind the trees became brighter and she turned to find every direction illuminated.
She was trapped.
Don’t be afraid, fear is only a shadow. You are the light!
“Who are you? Who’s there?”
Orange orbs manifested from the light, passing through the trees. Large, dark leering eyes hovered inside of each orb, emitting an oppressive presence. Everywhere she turned they stared back with hungry expressions.
“What do you want from me?” she screamed and balled her fists. The emotion rising inside her now wasn’t fear. It wasn’t panic. It was anger, red-hot boiling anger.
Your soul. You belong to us and us to you.
Many voices spoke, different from the one before. Unhuman, not even words but thoughts that pierced her mind, laying all her worries and pain to bear.
As the boiling rage welled up within her, angered at their invasion, Birdie screamed, louder and louder, and willed these demons to be torn apart and nothing left behind. Every cell throbbed inside her with the need of it. Every beat of her heart mirrored that searing heat and magnified it tenfold. One orb exploded and the creature inside fled back to the trees. The woods filled with their screams as each of the orbs exploded, sending a glowing trail whirling through the air, making her hair billow.
Birdie watched as the dust gathered together above her, forming into a large bird, wings fluttering, sending the creatures running for their lives. She reached up and the bird began to shrink from the size of a boulder to an apple. Birdie held it in her hands, pressed against her chest, and the warmth emitting from it made her flesh tickle, her mind buzz.
After a moment, she held it out to look at it. Its feathers were black engraved with golden designs, and its two small beady eyes gently glowed with a golden aura.
“Ow!” she gasped as the bird pecked her wrist. She tried to shake it off, but its claws dug into her flesh, holding on tightly to her fingers, and it did it again. “Stop it!” Blood ran down her wrist, streaming from the open gash.
“Wake up!” a voice called through the trees.
“What?”
“Come on, wake up, we have to go!”
She felt dizzy.
The woods began to fade.
* * *
Opening her eyes, a dim light showed through the treetops. A fog had gathered during the night, and dew clung to her cloak and hair. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she peered down at her palm. “Where’s the bird?”
The woman’s shadow stared down at her. “What?”
“The bird, it pecked me.”
The woman checked her weapons. “No time for dreams. The real nightmares lie in the world of the living.”
Birdie moved her arms and legs to get the blood flowing. “You never asked my name.”
“Names are for friends. A burden I don’t have time for… You don’t talk to people often, do you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Huh.” They left their makeshift camp and began walking through the forest, the woman speaking in hushed tones. “Because there’s nothing out here but backwoods villages infested with scum. And the further out you go, the more scum you find, until you can’t take two steps without stepping in shit. But I suppose that’s all changed now. Not even the scum will be left alive once the Eclipsi get their hands on them. Guess the Temple will be doing us a favour. Until they rip our throats out, that is…”
“Temple? The Twilight Temple? Is that who attacked the village?” Birdie had read about them in some of the books in the cottage. A strange cult living in the east, beyond the mountain passes, worshipped the twin moons, Ibis and Sarema. Their leaders called themselves Moon-Sages, and worshipped their Gods from inside an ancient mound of boulders, called the Twilight Temple.
The woman frowned. “Never mind, come on.” Around midday they came to a road embedded with smooth stones, making it easier to traverse than the bramble infested forest. Well, relatively smooth, but dry.
Dry was good.
The woman looked at her with a raised brow. “Never seen a paved road before?”
“No.”
“Wait ‘til you see the cities, fuckin’ shit yourself.”
“You’ve been to the twelve cities, then? What’s it like?”
“Big. Cities usually are.”
“You don’t talk to people often, do you?”
The woman glanced back. “We’ll see if that smart mouth of yours can fend off the next man who tries to cut your throat.”
“I could’ve beaten him,” Birdie lied, checking to make sure the knife was still hidden.
“There’s no excuse for failure out here, only the dead favour excuses. The living must learn to accept hard-truths.” The woman talked as if reciting a hard-earned lesson.
“Will you teach me? How to survive out here, I mean…”
“I’m no teacher. I get by on my own because I trust myself. If ye want training, then the Sea of Circles is the place to be. Loads of places can teach you how to use that little knife of yours in your belt.”
“How did you—” Birdie moved her hand away from the knife.
“Because I’m not blind, girl. If you’ve a mind on using it, best not stick it into someone who’s intending on doing you some good. Don’t want to make an enemy out of me, now, do you?” The woman gave her a small smile.
“So, I’m not your enemy?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. The only thing in this world that won’t turn its back on ye is your own reflection when you’re facing a mirror.”
Birdie shook her head. “You speak in riddles, you know.”
The woman stopped and sniffed the air, then moved on after a brief pause. “Perhaps, but the person who reveals all they know, knows nothing themselves.”
“Great, leave it to me to get stuck with some insane, tribal philosopher.”
“Hmm,” the woman looked back, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “I like that.”
In the evening they stopped and shared some of the woman’s dried meat. Not long before sundown they stopped by a stream and refilled the water skin. An old, derelict mill downriver still turned, making the water churn and bubble. The adjoining building had collapsed long ago; it’s still few standing walls now overgrown with moss and saplings.
