Midnight Tides

  The wraiths edged back to provide a corridor to the double doors.

  Udinaas strode forward and pushed them open, moved inside then turned about. A step behind him were Nifadas and the Acquitor, the prince, his expression dark, trailing.

  The First Eunuch frowned at the curtain at the far end. ‘The throne room is filled with Edur nobles? Then why do I hear nothing?’

  ‘They await your arrival,’ Udinaas said. ‘The ruler of the Tiste Edur stands on the centre dais. His appearance will startle you—’

  ‘Slave,’ Quillas said, making the word contemptuous, ‘we are not anticipating that the negotiations will commence immediately. We are but to be proclaimed guests—’

  ‘I am not the one to guarantee that,’ Udinaas cut in, unperturbed. ‘I would advise that you be ready for anything.’

  ‘But this is absurd—’

  ‘Let us be about it, then,’ the First Eunuch said.

  The prince was not used to these constant interruptions, his face flushing.

  Acquitor Seren Pedac spoke. ‘Udinaas, by your words I conclude that Hannan Mosag has been usurped.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Rhulad Sengar has proclaimed himself the new king of the Tiste Edur.’

  ‘No, Acquitor. Emperor.’

  There was silence for a half-dozen heartbeats, then the prince snorted in disbelief. ‘What empire? Six tribes of seal-hunters? This fool has gone mad.’

  ‘It is one thing,’ Nifadas said slowly, ‘to proclaim oneself an emperor. It is another to force the Edur nobility to bend knee to such a claim. Udinaas, have they done so?’

  ‘They have, First Eunuch.’

  ‘That is… astonishing.’

  ‘Hannan Mosag?’ Seren asked.

  ‘He too has knelt and pledged allegiance, Acquitor.’

  Once again no-one spoke for a time.

  Then the First Eunuch nodded to Udinaas and said, ‘Thank you. I am ready to meet the emperor now.’

  Udinaas nodded and approached the curtain. Pulling it aside, he stepped through into the chamber beyond. The nobles had moved to form an avenue leading down to the centre dais. Everyone was standing. On the dais, Rhulad Sengar leaned on his sword. His motions had dislodged a few coins, leaving mottled patches of burnt skin. Humidity, heat and oil lamps made the air mist-laden and lurid. Udinaas sought to look upon the scene as if he was a stranger, and was shocked at its raw barbarity. These are a fallen people.

  Who would rise anew.

  The First Eunuch and the Acquitor appeared on the threshold, and Nifadas moved to his left to give space for Prince Quillas Diskanar.

  Udinaas raised his voice, ‘Emperor. First Eunuch Nifadas and Prince Quillas Diskanar. The Letherii treaty delegation.’

  ‘Come forward,’ came the rasping invitation from the emperor. ‘I am Rhulad Sengar, and I proclaim you guests of the Tiste Edur Empire.’

  Nifadas bowed his head. ‘We thank your highness for his welcome.’

  ‘It is the desire of the Letherii king to establish a formal treaty with us,’ Rhulad said, then shrugged. ‘I was under the impression we already had one. And, while we honour it, your people do not. Thus, what value a new agreement?’

  As the First Eunuch was about to speak, Quillas stepped forward. ‘You confiscated a harvest of tusked seals. So be it. Such things cannot be reversed, can they? None the less, there is the matter of debt.’

  Udinaas smiled, not needing to look up to see the shocked expressions from the gathered nobility.

  ‘Hannan Mosag,’ Rhulad said after a moment, ‘will speak for the Edur in this matter.’

  Udinaas glanced up to see the once-Warlock King stepping forward to stand in front of the dais. He was without expression. ‘Prince, you will need to explain how you Letherii have arrived at the notion of debt. The harvest was illegal – do you deny it?’

  ‘We do not – no, Nifadas, I am speaking. As I was saying to you, Hannan Mosag, we do not dispute the illegality of the harvest. But its illegality does not in turn refute the reality that it took place. And that harvest, conducted by Letherii, is now in Edur hands. The present treaty, you may recall, has an agreed market value for tusked seals, and it is this price we expect to be honoured.’

  ‘Extraordinary logic, Prince,’ Hannan Mosag said, his voice a smooth rumble.

  ‘We are, fortunately,’ Quillas continued, ‘prepared for a compromise.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  Udinaas wondered why Nifadas was remaining silent. His lack of interruption could only be interpreted as tacit allegiance to the prince and the position he was advocating.

  ‘A compromise, yes. The debt shall be forgiven, in exchange for land. Specifically, the remainder of Trate Reach, which, as we both know, serves only as seasonal fishing camps for your people. Such camps would not be prohibited, of course. They shall remain available to you, for a modest percentage of your catch.’

  ‘As it now stands, then,’ Hannan Mosag said, ‘we begin this treaty in your debt.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Based upon the presumption that we possess the stolen harvest.’

  ‘Well, of course—’

  ‘But we do not possess it, Prince Quillas Diskanar.’

  ‘What? But you must!’

  ‘You are welcome to visit our store houses for yourself,’ Hannan Mosag went on reasonably. ‘We punished the harvesters, as was our right. But we did not retrieve the harvest.’

  ‘The ships arrived in Trate with their holds empty!’

  ‘Perhaps, in fleeing our wrath, they discharged their burden, so as to quicken their pace. Without success, as it turned out.’ As the prince simply stared, Hannan Mosag went on, ‘Thus, we are not in your debt. You, however, are in ours. To the market value of the harvested tusked seals. We are undecided, at the moment, on the nature of recompense we will demand of you. After all, we have no need of coin.’

  ‘We have brought gifts!’ Quillas shouted.

  ‘For which you will then charge us, with interest. We are familiar with your pattern of cultural conquest among neighbouring tribes, Prince. That the situation is now reversed earns our sympathy, but as you are wont to say, business is business.’

  Nifadas finally spoke. ‘It seems we have much to consider, the two of us, Emperor. Alas, our journey has been long and wearying. Perhaps you could permit us to retire for a time, to reconvene this meeting on the morrow?’

  ‘Excellent idea,’ Rhulad said, the coins on his face twisting as he smiled. ‘Udinaas, escort the delegation to the guest longhouse. Then return here. A long night awaits us.’

  The prince stood like a puppet with its strings cut. The faces of the Acquitor and the First Eunuch, however, remained composed.

  Even so, it seems we are all puppets here…

  ****

  Trull Sengar watched the slave lead the Acquitor and the delegation out of the chamber. The world had not crumbled, it had shattered, and before his eyes he saw the jagged pieces, a chamber fissured and latticed, a thousand shards bearing countless reflected images. Edur faces, broken crowds, the smear of smoke. Disjointed motion, a fevered murmur of sound, the liquid glint of gold and a sword as patched and fragmented as everything else in sight.

  Like a crazed mosaic, slowly being reassembled by a madman’s hand. He did not know where he belonged, where he fit. Brother to an emperor. It is Rhulad, yet it is not. I don’t know him. And I know him all too well and, Daughter take me, I am frightened most by that.

  Hannan Mosag had been speaking quietly with Rhulad, conveying an ease with his new role that Trull knew was intended to calm the witnesses gathered here. Trull wondered what it was costing the Warlock King.

  A nod and a wave of the hand dismissed Hannan Mosag, who retreated to stand near his K’risnan. At Rhulad’s instructions a large chair was carried to the dais, and the emperor sat, revealing to Trull’s knowing gaze his brother’s exhaustion. It would take time to acquire the strength necessary to sustain that vast, terrible weight for any len
gth of time. The emperor settled his head back and looked out upon the nobles. His attention quickly silenced the crowd.

  ‘I have known death,’ Rhulad said, his voice rough. ‘I have returned, and I am not the same, not the unblooded warrior you saw before we began our journey to the ice wastes. I have returned, to bring to you the memory of our destiny. To lead you.’ He was silent then, as if needing to recover from his short speech. A dozen heartbeats, before he continued, ‘Fear Sengar. Brother, step forward.’

  Fear did as commanded, halting on the inner ring in front of the dais.

  Rhulad stared down at him, and Trull saw a sudden hunger in those brittle eyes.

  ‘Second only to Hannan Mosag’s, your loyalty, Fear, is my greatest need.’

  Fear looked rattled, as if such a matter did not need to be questioned.

  The slave Udinaas returned then, but held back, his red-rimmed eyes scanning the scene. And Trull wondered at the sudden narrowing of that Letherii’s gaze.

  ‘What, Emperor,’ Fear said, ‘do you ask of me?’

  ‘A gift, brother.’

  ‘All I have is yours—’

  ‘Are you true to that claim, Fear?’ Rhulad demanded, leaning forward.

  ‘I would not make it otherwise.’

  Oh. No, Rhulad – no—

  ‘The emperor,’ Rhulad said, settling back, ‘requires an empress.’

  Comprehension cast a pall on Fear’s face.

  ‘A wife. Fear Sengar, will you gift me a wife?’

  You grotesque bastard – Trull stepped forward.

  Rhulad’s hand snapped out to stay him. ‘Be careful, Trull. This is not your concern.’ He bared stained teeth. ‘It never was.’

  ‘Must you break those who would follow you?’ Trull asked.

  ‘Another word!’ Rhulad shrieked. ‘One more word, Trull, and I will have you flayed alive!’

  Trull recoiled at the vehemence, stunned into silence.

  A coin clattered onto the dais as Rhulad lifted a hand to his face and clawed at some extremity of emotion, then he snatched his hand away and held it before him, watching it curl into a fist. ‘Kill me. That is all you need do. For your proof. Yes, kill me. Again.’ The glittering eyes fixed on Trull. ‘You knew I was alone, guarding the rear slope. You knew it, Trull, and left me to my fate.’

  ‘What? I knew no such thing, Rhulad—’

  ‘No more lies, brother. Fear, gift me your betrothed. Give me Mayen. Would you stand between her and the title of empress? Tell me, are you that selfish?’

  As ugly as driving knives into Fear, one after another. As rendering his flesh into ruin. This, Trull realized, this was Rhulad. The child and his brutal hungers, his vicious appetites. Tell us, are you that selfish?

  ‘She is yours, Emperor.’

  Words bled of all life, words that were themselves a gift to one who had known death. Though Rhulad lacked the subtle mind to comprehend that.

  Instead, his face twisted beneath the coins into a broad smile, filled with glee and triumph. His eyes lifted to a place in the crowd where the unwedded maidens stood. ‘Mayen,’ he called. ‘It is done. Come forward. Join your emperor.’

  Tall, regal, the young woman strode forward as if this moment had been rehearsed a thousand times.

  But that is not possible.

  She walked past Fear without a glance, and came to stand, facing outward, on the left side of the chair. Rhulad’s hand reached out with a gesture of smug familiarity and she clasped it.

  That final act struck Fear as would a physical blow to his chest. He took a step back.

  ‘Thank you, Fear,’ Rhulad said, ‘for your gift. I am assured of your loyalty, and proud to call you my brother. You, Binadas, Midik Buhn, Theradas Buhn, Hannan Mosag… and,’ the gaze shifted, ‘Trull, of course. My closest brothers. We are bound by the blood of our ancestors…’

  He continued, but Trull had ceased listening. His eyes were on Mayen’s face. On the horror writ there that she could not disguise. In his mind, Trull cried out to Fear. Look, brother! She did not seek this betrayal! Look!

  With an effort he pulled his gaze from Mayen, and saw that Fear had seen. Seen what everyone present could see, everyone but Rhulad.

  It saved them all. Salvation to the desperate. She showed them that some truths could not be broken, that even this insane thing on its throne could not crush the visceral honour remaining to the Tiste Edur. And in her face was yet another promise. She would withstand his crimes, because there was no choice. A promise that was also a lesson to everyone present. Withstand. Suffer. Live as you must now live. There will, one day, be answer to this.

  Yet Trull wondered. Who could give answer? What waited in the world beyond the borders of their knowledge, sufficiently formidable to challenge this monstrosity? And how long would they have to wait? We were fallen, and the emperor proclaims that we shall rise again. He is insane, for we are not rising. We are falling, and I fear there will be no end to that descent.

  Until someone gave answer.

  Rhulad had stopped speaking, as if growing aware that something was happening among his followers, something that had nothing to do with him and his newfound power. He rose suddenly from the chair. ‘This gathering is done. Hannan Mosag, you and your K’risnan will remain here with me and the Empress, for we have much to discuss. Udinaas, bring to Mayen her slaves, so that they may attend her needs. The rest, leave me now. Spread the word of the rise of the new empire of the Edur. And, brothers and sisters, see to your weapons…’

  Please, someone, give answer to this.

  ****

  A dozen paces from the citadel a figure emerged from the rain to stand in front of Udinaas.

  The Acquitor.

  ‘What has he done?’

  Udinaas studied her for a moment, then shrugged. ‘He stole his brother’s betrothed. We have an empress, and she does poorly at a brave face.’

  ‘The Edur are usurped,’ Seren Pedac said. ‘And a tyrant sits on the throne.’

  Udinaas hesitated, then said, ‘Tell the First Eunuch. You must prepare for war.’

  She revealed no surprise at his words; rather, a heavy weariness dulled her eyes. She turned away, walked into the rain and was gone.

  I am a bearer of good tidings indeed. And now, it’s Feather Witch’s turn…

  Rain rushed down from the sky, blinding and blind, indifferent and mindless, but it held no meaning beyond that. How could it? It was just rain, descending from the sky’s massed legion of grieving clouds. And the crying wind was the breath of natural laws, born high in the mountains or out at sea. Its voice promised nothing.

  There was no meaning to be found in lifeless weather, in the pulsing of tides and in the wake of turning seasons.

  No meaning to living and dying, either.

  The tyrant was clothed in gold, and the future smelled of blood.

  It meant nothing.

  Book Three

  All That Lies Unseen

  The man who never smiles

  Drags his nets through the deep

  And we are gathered

  To gape in the drowning air

  Beneath the buffeting sound

  Of his dreaded voice

  Speaking of salvation

  In the repast of justice done

  And fed well on the laden table

  Heaped with noble desires

  He tells us all this to hone the edge

  Of his eternal mercy

  Slicing our bellies open

  One by one.

  In the Kingdom of Meaning Well

  Fisher kel Tath

  Chapter Twelve

  The frog atop the stack of coins dares not jump.

  Poor Umur’s Sayings

  Anonymous

  ‘Five wings will buy you a grovel. I admit, master, the meaning of that saying escapes me.’

  Tehol ran both hands through his hair, pulling at the tangles. ‘Ouch. It’s the Eternal Domicile, Bugg. Wings numbering five, a grovel at the feet of the
Errant, at the feet of destiny. The empire is risen. Lether awakens to a new day of glory.’

  They stood side by side on the roof.

  ‘But the fifth wing is sinking. What about four wings?’

  ‘Gulls in collision, Bugg. My, it’s going to be hot, a veritable furnace. What are the tasks awaiting you today?’

  ‘My first meeting with Royal Engineer Grum. The shoring up we’ve done with the warehouses impressed him, it seems.’

  ‘Good.’ Tehol continued staring out over the city for another moment, then he faced his servant. ‘Should it have?’

  ‘Impressed him? Well, the floors aren’t sagging and they’re bone dry. The new plaster isn’t showing any cracks. The owners are delighted—’

  ‘I thought I owned those warehouses.’

  ‘Aren’t you delighted?’

  ‘Well, you’re right, I am. Every one of me.’

  ‘That’s what I told the Royal Engineer when I responded to his first missive.’

  ‘What about the people fronting me on those investments?’

  ‘They’re delighted, too.’

  ‘Well,’ Tehol sighed, ‘it’s just that kind of day, isn’t it?’

  Bugg nodded. ‘Must be, master.’

  ‘And is that all you have planned? For the whole day?’

  ‘No. I need to scrounge some food. Then I need to visit Shand and her partners to give them that list of yours again. It was too long.’

  ‘Do you recall it in its entirety?’

  ‘I do. Puryst Rott Ale, I liked that one.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But they weren’t all fake, were they?’

  ‘No, that would give it away too quickly. All the local ones were real. In any case, it’ll keep them busy for awhile. I hope. What else?’

  ‘Another meeting with the guilds. I may need bribe money for that.’

  ‘Nonsense. Stand fast – they’re about to be hit from another quarter.’

  ‘Strike? I hadn’t heard—’

  ‘Of course not. The incident that triggers it hasn’t happened yet. You know the Royal Engineer’s obliged to hire guild members only. We have to see that conflict eliminated before it gives us trouble.’