Then the roar came.
It seemed to fill the arena from top to bottom, cutting through Reva like a blade, not with its fury, but its pain. The anguish she heard in this cry was searing, the torment it spoke of unimaginable.
Varulek had told her what manner of beast she faced this day, but mere words could not have captured the sight of it. When she and Vaelin had travelled with the minstrel’s players she had seen some monkeys, small mischievous creatures prone to hissing and scratching at fingers unwisely poked into their cage. Come the evening show, their owner would play a flute as they danced, or rather capered about with some vague relation to the tune. The idea that what she saw now could in any way be related to those chittering imps seemed absurd, making her wonder if Varulek’s garish legends might have some substance after all.
It entered the arena at the run, or rather gallop, moving on all fours and raising a sizeable cloud of dust. Its full size was revealed as the dust settled, and a spontaneous gasp rose from the terraces. Even though it was crouched, this monkey, or great southern ape as Varulek called it, stood close to eight feet tall. Its fur hung in shaggy tendrils from its arms and shoulders, brownish red in colour except on its densely muscled back where the fur was shorter and steely grey.
It roared again, a vast howl of pain and fury, baring teeth like blunted ivory nails. As it reared Reva saw the scars that covered its torso, deep and barely healed. It raised both hands and she saw a gleam of steel, noting the leather straps over its wrists.
“They are peaceable beasts, in truth,” Varulek had said. “Keeping to their forests and valleys, eating only leaves, shy of man and not without good reason. Finding one with sufficient innate aggression to play the desired role is difficult, but when they do … Well, after a suitably harsh training period, they always seem to know what’s expected of them, and the steel claws we give them.”
Reva saw the truth in his words as the ape’s gaze swept the arena, fixing first on Lieza and then her. There was a definite knowledge in its eyes, an all-too-recognisable understanding of its circumstances. It growled, scratched at the sand with its steel-augmented claws, and charged.
Reva sprinted forward, scooping up the spear and short sword. The ape made straight for Lieza, covering the distance in a few loping strides. Reva saw Lieza standing stock still, as if frozen, all the training perhaps driven from her head by terror. But then, as the beast closed, she dived to the right, rolling away as the steel claws tore at the pole to which she was shackled, shattering her chain. She scrambled to her feet, gathering up the chain as Reva had told her.
The ape skidded to a halt, snarling and readying itself for another charge. Lieza issued a shrill scream as she lashed at the ape with her chains, raising dust but giving it only a second’s pause before it charged again.
Not yet! Reva implored as she ran towards them. Don’t dodge too soon.
Lieza, however, timed it perfectly, springing to the right and ducking under another slash from the claws, then rising and running back towards the dais. She sprinted up the steps and crouched behind the pole, the ape pounding after her. It thrashed at the pole, the claws shattering the timber above Lieza’s head, showering her crouching form in splinters, then drawing back, both claws raised high for a killing blow.
Reva’s short sword spun through the air to sink into the ape’s leg just below the knee. It roared, reeling away from the dais, rolling onto its back, thrashing the sand into a yellow fog.
“Are you hurt?” Reva crouched at Lieza’s side.
The girl gaped at her for a second then amazed her with a grin. “Today, maybe I am Livella too.”
Reva felt a flicker of prideful amusement, vanished in an instant as she saw the ape emerge from the dust, plucking the sword from its leg with a howl of rage. “Stay behind me.”
It circled the dais, trailing blood and dragging its maimed leg. The injury had slowed it but also done much to focus its attention. Its gaze was now fixed on Reva, the eyes gleaming with a disconcerting sense of understanding. It knows, Reva thought. It knows one of us has to die.
Without warning the ape charged again, ascending the dais in a frenzy of slashing claws. The faux-marble steps were rent to splinters, Reva and Lieza diving clear as the beast tore away any vestige of protection then rounded on them anew, repeatedly lunging forward and swiping at them with its claws. Reva danced aside as each slash came close, Lieza following her example though she was visibly tiring.
It’s too clever, Reva decided, seeing the tense concentration in the ape’s eyes. Trying to wear us down.
“We need a distraction,” she told Lieza, ducking under another swipe. She managed to ward off another with a jab of the spear but the ape retreated barely a few feet before edging closer. “Dive to the left when it attacks next. Use your chains, only once mind. Then run.”
The ape issued a determined grunt and made another limping charge, both arms extended to the sides like poised scissor blades. Reva dived to the right as the arms closed, the claws slashing close enough to snip off the end of her trailing braid. She snatched a glance at Lieza, sighing in relief at the sight of her scrambling to her feet as the ape wheeled for another attack. Lieza took hold of her chain in both hands and swung it, shouting with the effort. The steel whip snaked upwards to score a hit on the ape’s face, Reva catching sight of a ruined eye as its head jerked to the side.
It rounded on Lieza with its loudest roar yet as the girl turned and ran, making it only a few steps before stumbling into the sand. The ape bellowed in triumph, crouching for an attack, its back now fully turned to Reva. She surged to her feet, sprinting forward and planting the spear’s blunt end in the sand, vaulting into the air and landing astride the ape’s shoulders. She grabbed ahold of the shaggy fur on its neck with her free hand as it thrashed, trying to throw her off. Her legs flailed as the beast wheeled and heaved, swiping at her as if she were a bothersome fly, forcing her to duck as the steel barbs missed her by inches.
Abruptly the ape staggered, ceasing its swipes at her and sinking to one knee. Reva caught sight of Lieza, back arched and arms taut as she hauled on her chains. Reva’s gaze tracked the chain to where it was wrapped around the ape’s injured leg, blood pulsing from the wound as it tried vainly to loosen the steel links pressing into the flesh.
She released her hold on its fur, standing upright and hefting the spear in both hands, whirling it about and sinking the broad blade into the ape’s shoulder. She put all her weight on the haft, teeth gritted as she forced it deeper, feeling it grinding on bone and slicing through sinew until it protruded from the ape’s chest.
It convulsed as she dived clear, a gasping bellow of pain and confusion issuing from its mouth. It stood fully erect for a moment, eyes tracking from the spear-blade to Reva, now crouched in the sand, ready to dodge another charge. Seeing its eyes, however, dulled with pain and the knowledge of defeat, she saw it was done even before it sank to its knees with a gurgling whine.
Reva glanced about, finding herself less than a hundred yards from the Empress’s balcony. She was standing close to the edge, smiling with sisterly pride as the crowd’s unbidden exultation filled the arena. A brief look at the upper tiers confirmed the absence of archers; Varulek had kept his word.
She rose and walked towards the balcony, her eyes picking out the eagle motif in the centre. Flowers cascaded down from the terraces as she walked, liberally covering the sand around her in a multi-coloured floral carpet. She lowered her gaze, concealing a grunt of frustration at the growing blanket of flowers. How to find it amidst all this …
Then she saw it, a faint irregular line in the sand, only partially obscured by a cluster of roses. She raised her eyes to the Empress, seeing her incline her head in acknowledgment. Think nothing. Feel nothing. Reva went to one knee, keeping her gaze on the Empress, her fingers sinking into the sand and inching towards the line until they felt the rough weave of coarse fabric. Her fingers bunched on it, ripping it away, sand erupting in a large
plume to reveal the bow, strung and ready … and a single arrow alongside it.
The crowd fell to instant silence as something landed in the sand with a soft thud. Reva closed her eyes, air escaping her in a hiss. Just one arrow.
She opened her eyes, finding herself staring at Varulek’s slack, lifeless face. From the fresh blood still seeping from the stump of his severed neck it was clear he had died only moments before.
Reva raised her gaze, expecting to find the Empress now shielded by a wall of Arisai, but instead she stood as she had before, precariously close to the edge, arms open with no protection at all.
“You displayed great skill in concealing yourself from my song, little sister,” she said. “The Honoured Master of the Arena did not.”
The doors in the arena walls slammed open in unison, Arisai emerging from the tunnels in a run, perhaps fifty of them, all forming a circle around Reva, Lieza and the dying ape. Lieza tried to run to Reva’s side but was quickly brought down by a trio of Arisai, laughing as she spat and thrashed in their grip.
“I am pleased to have made such a valued gift to my sister,” the Empress said as Lieza was forced to her knees. Reva dragged her attention back to the balcony where the Empress still stood, maddeningly close, such an easy target.
“But, if we are to share power,” the Empress continued, “I am forced to conclude that you require a lesson in its cost. Power was never won without blood, ambition never fulfilled without sacrifice. So before dear Lieza receives the three deaths, the Arisai have orders to rape her in front of you for a day and a night. But, of course, you can spare her such a fate.” She pointed at the bow and the single arrow a few inches from Reva’s hand. “It seems you have a choice to make, little sister.”
CHAPTER NINE
Frentis
“Volar features the most heavily fortified harbour in the world,” the Fleet Lord said, his gloved hand sweeping across the map. It was an old chart, the edges frayed and the waxed parchment yellow with age, but also highly detailed. “Towers on either side of the harbour mouth and high walls on the moles that enclose it. The dockside itself has six different strongholds, each holding a battalion of Varitai.”
The map fluttered a little in the wind, obliging him to weight it down with a dagger. The day had dawned with an ominous sky and an unseasonal chill to the air. Frentis could see the trepidation on the faces of many Meldeneans working the Red Falcon’s rigging, knowing they feared the onset of another Dark-born storm though Ell-Nurin himself scoffed at such notions. “Sailed the Cut half a hundred times. She’s ever prone to summer squalls, nothing Dark about it.”
“How do you propose we attack such a place?” Karavek asked the Fleet Lord. “Unless you intend to commit my people to some suicidal enterprise.”
“I certainly don’t.” Ell-Nurin’s finger tracked to a shallow inlet five miles east of the city. “This is Brokev’s Notch, favoured haunt of smugglers for as long as there’s been an empire.”
One of the other captains, an Asraelin from his garb, stepped forward to peer at the map with a dubious eye. “The channel’s barely wide enough for three ships abreast that far in.” Ell-Nurin said nothing, staring at him in silence until the captain gritted his teeth, and added, “My lord.”
“We land in relays,” Ell-Nurin said. “Form up on the beach and march on Volar from the east, the least expected direction.”
“The Empress is mad but not foolish,” Frentis said. “She may well have anticipated the move. We could find ourselves facing a fortified shore.”
“Which is why a third of our ships, those not laden with troops, will linger outside the harbour come the dawn, giving every appearance of being about to make an assault. With luck the Empress will concentrate her forces there.”
“They could sally out,” the Asraelin captain pointed out. “Seek to break the fleet in two before we land.”
“Thanks to Lady Alornis’s marvellous devices,” Ell-Nurin replied, “and our considerable advantage in numbers, I’m certain we can contain any sallies they might attempt.” He turned to Frentis. “Brother, I leave it to you to decide the order of landing.”
Frentis nodded. “My own people first. The Politai next. Master Karavek’s people last.”
“Want the glory all to yourself, eh, brother?” Karavek asked, though not without a note of relief.
Ell-Nurin straightened, lifting his chin and gazing off to the east. “My lords, Captains of the Fleet and honoured allies, come the new day we will have struck a deathblow to this most vile of empires. For we come with justice in our hearts and freedom in our souls. Let all who sail with us know, destiny awaits and will not be denied.”
Ell-Nurin held his pose, seemingly expectant of some response, a hearty cheer perhaps. After a moment, as the silence stretched and thickened, he coughed. “To your duties, lords and sirs.”
“What an arse,” Draker muttered as he and Frentis made their way below. “We truly have to take orders from him, brother?”
“Arse he may be, fool he isn’t. The plan is sound. Make sure the others know that.”
Draker nodded and began to move away, then paused. “Always wondered, brother. What’s my rank?”
“Rank?”
“Yeh. You’re a Brother, Illian’s a Sister, the arse is a Fleet Lord. What am I?”
“You can be a sergeant, if you like.”
Draker’s bushy brows bunched in disappointment. “Got more folk answering to me than any sergeant I ever saw. Over two hundred of the buggers at last count.”
“Captain then. Captain Draker of the Queen’s Free Company. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like it’d earn a pension.”
Frentis sighed a laugh. “I expect it will.”
Draker smiled, though his voice held a sombre note as he said, “Sorry for the beatings, brother. If I never said before. I was drunk the whole time, see? Don’t think I had a sober day till Varinshold fell.”
“It was a long time ago, Captain. See to your company, if you would.”
He sought out Sister Merial, finding her in company with a pipe near the stern, the sweet-smelling smoke escaping through an arrow-slit in the hull. “Meldeneans can always be counted on for some prime Alpiran five-leaf,” she said, offering him the pipe. “Been over a year since I had a toke on anything this fine.”
He declined with a raised hand. “Any word from your husband?”
“Indeed.” She took a deep draw, blinking with watery eyes, her gaze losing focus. “Think I might’ve been a bit too generous with meself, brother.”
“Any word?” he repeated as she patted her chest and coughed a little. “The queen won another victory,” she said, voice a little hoarse. “Becoming a bit of a habit with her. Battle of the Flowers they’re callin’ it, don’t know why. In any case the road to Volar was open as of this morning. They should get there within two days.”
He nodded, thoughts clouded with visions of Lady Reva in the arena, and more besides. Bring the healer …
He had resumed taking Brother Kehlan’s sleeping draught in New Kethia, keen to avoid any more shared dreams, wary of what they might reveal to her, though it also robbed him of any clues as to her intentions. Doesn’t care if I bring my army. Seems indifferent to the queen’s approach. What does she plot now?
“We’re landin’ first, I take it,” Sister Merial said.
“My company is. You will remain on the ship.”
“A dog’s fart I will. Sailed half the world for this, and Aspect Caenis deserves a reckoning.”
“You are skilled in arms?”
She gave a short laugh and returned to her pipe, twiddling her fingers at him with a grin. “You’ll see what I’m skilled at, brother. Just don’t stand too close when you do.”
Brokev’s Notch was formed of a small bay flanked by craggy bluffs. Beyond the beach the ground rose in a steep incline to the redflower fields beyond. The sun was only just beginning to glimmer on the horizon and the promise of poor weather had m
anifested as a light morning drizzle.
“Even a handful of enemies on those heights, Redbrother,” Lekran said with a grimace. “And this bay will become a slaughter-house.”
Frentis said nothing, keeping his gaze on the cliff-tops as the boat neared the shore. It was low tide and the surf was negligible, the oarsmen heaving away at a high tempo regardless of noise; speed was more important than stealth now. He could see no sign of any movement on the bluffs, nor the ground beyond the beach.
“Remember,” he told Lekran. “Do not linger for a second, regardless of loss.”
He had placed the Garisai in the leading boats along with all their archers, Draker and Illian’s people following behind with orders to secure the bluffs. Master Rensial had opted to accompany him, probably in hopes of finding a horse as quickly as possible.
Frentis leapt clear at the sound of the boat’s hull scraping on the sand, sinking into the water up to his knees and immediately labouring towards the beach. In accordance with their orders the archers spread out with arrows already notched and bows raised, constantly scanning the bluffs for any sign of an enemy. The Garisai churned the tide-water into a white froth as they charged with Frentis, all making it onto the sand untroubled by the telltale hiss of an arrow storm or shouts of alarm.
Frentis permitted no pause on the beach, running across to the grassy slope and halting only on reaching the top. The Garisai immediately assumed a defensive formation though there was no sign of any opposition. The fields, rendered a dull shade of crimson by the morning gloom, stretched away silent and unmarred by a single living soul. Off to the west he could see the rising sun playing on towers ascending from the redflower like silver pins in a vast red blanket.
“Volar,” Lekran said in an oddly reverent tone. “All those years a slave to this empire, and this is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on it.”