The final resting place of Arcus and Banos; laid to rest in a granite cave near the peak of the hill where Arcus met his end battling the Dragon. It was said that his tomb was built by goblins and trolls, the city having fallen to the monsters for the first and only time. There wasn’t a Feron Firehand to save the day that time around.
The floor of the cave was scattered with waist-high stalagmites, and the roof was high and dark. Right in the centre was what looked like a long stone table. Ben made his way over and knelt before it.
I moved around to the other end and gripped the corners of the slab. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘It’s no use praying to them. They’re not likely to help push the lid off from inside.’
Ben gave me a withering look. I guess I had just insulted him
and
two gods, one of whom was his divine ancestor. ‘I almost can’t bring myself to do it, Kal,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe that it’s going to be this easy. What if Firehand
did
find his way here … what if—’
I heaved on the lid. With a dull grinding noise, it shifted half an inch. Ben seemed to come to his senses and find his sense of occasion. ‘Arcus and Banos, in the name of the Godsword line of kings and queens, I claim your bones for the city of Amaranthium …’ He put his weight on the other end of the slab and shoved.
When it was halfway off, we could see that the coffin was empty, but still we heaved the lid the rest of the way until it slid off and hit the cave floor, resting at an angle against the tomb.
Ben had broken a sweat in the exertion. He dropped to the floor and wiped his brow with a filthy sleeve. I thought I heard a sob. Was he crying?
‘The story ends here, Kal,’ he said quietly. ‘I bet that bastard Firehand got here centuries ago. I bet his family are still living it up today on the interest off
my
inheritance!’
‘Don’t think like that,’ I said. ‘Maybe the king knew that this wasn’t a safe place. Maybe he moved the bones and the treasure somewhere else … maybe he even left us a clue!’
Ben snorted. ‘A clue! Oh yes, perhaps my ingenious ancestor wrote a message in the dust at the bottom of the tomb for all to see!’
I had to laugh. ‘Or maybe under the lid, where no one’s likely to check!’
Ben gave me a sharp look. We both pulled the lid away from the tomb until it toppled over onto its back, then we dropped to our knees in stunned silence when we saw the words carved into the stone:
’Cross city streets, ’twixt gate and gate,
’Neath feet of kings, bones of dead gods wait,
On a bed of elemental cold they lie,
In the dark where doomed lovers go to die.
I couldn’t believe it.
A riddle!
‘Do you know where it’s referring to?’ I asked Ben.
‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘But you were wrong about one thing at least, Kal: if we are going to find this hiding place, we
will
have to find a way inside the city after all.
END OF PART THREE
PART FOUR
THE TRIAL
IV.i
The Living Dead
Kal woke up when she sensed a small, soft hand stroking her brow. She surfaced from a dream about Feron Firehand, only to find herself looking into the eyes of his descendant, the white-haired senator,
Felix
Firehand.
The senator was sitting in an armchair across the room, peering at Kal from under his bushy black eyebrows. The hand that was stroking Kal belonged to his young
priest
, Gwyn, who was sat on the bed next to her. ‘Kal’s awake!’ he exclaimed.
‘So I see,’ Firehand said in his deep, authoritative voice. ‘Don’t try to move, Moonheart.’
Kal tried to move. She felt a sharp pain at her side as she did so. She looked under the sheets and discovered her torso was wrapped in bandages. They covered the deep wounds that Witchwood’s claw had inflicted.
It was the third time in as many days that Kal had woken up in a bed that wasn’t her own. The room was large, and the furniture old and shabby. Had she somehow ended up at Firehand’s home? Kal was also unbearably hot under the sheets; she could physically feel the pressure of the heatwave crushing the city beneath a miasma of heat. It would take a storm of epic proportions to release Amaranthium from such a grip.
‘Hello Gwyn,’ she said, ignoring his master. ‘What are we doing here, then?’
Gwyn was dressed in a clean white toga and was sporting a laurel wreath among his blonde curls. He looked like a young god. Kal remembered that Firehand had said he believed Gwyn was indeed a god reincarnated. The divine youngster leaned in to Kal and whispered, ‘The bad man made you better.’
Kal gave Firehand a sharp glance. ‘But how did–’
‘You’re in Ben Godsword’s home,’ Firehand said. ‘Captain Dogwood brought you here. Then Godsword sent for me; I was a doctor before I entered politics. Quite a successful one. I’ve applied a garlic poultice to your cuts and made a splint for the broken toe on your right foot.’
‘Oh,’ Kal said. She didn’t even know that she had broken her toe. She was so used to being knocked around these days that she rarely noticed a new pain. It must have been when she had fallen out of the tree. Her skin crawled at the thought of Firehand’s hands all over her body, but at least—she hoped—the man had taken no pleasure in it, unlike Witchwood clearly had. ‘Well thank you, I guess,’ she said. ‘I should be grateful, I suppose, that I didn’t wake up in a prison cell.’
‘Well, even Dogwood couldn’t think of a good reason to arrest you, Moonheart, considering the state he found you in: tied-up and tortured. But what on earth were you and Witchwood doing at the Bower?’
Kal told Firehand the truth. ‘I was following a lead. I suspected Witchwood and the Peacock may have been involved in the murders. Well, Witchwood
was
the Peacock … and she thought that she could win me over to her side, in her own special way. But she’s not the murderer, obviously. That turned out to be—’
‘—Feron Firehand. Yes, I’ve had to listen to you shouting in your delirium for the past couple of hours.’ Felix cracked a rare smile. ‘I should probably thank my illustrious ancestor. With Witchwood dead, my odds of becoming a consul have significantly shortened. I believe myself, General Cassava and Ganzief Greatbear are the only three candidates left … and there are always two consuls elected.’
‘I’ll find the killer,’ Kal said. ‘I’ll—’
‘You’re in no fit state to do anything,’ Firehand said, interrupting her once more. ‘You need to rest and recover, young lady. We’ll just have to double the guard during the election, and give every senator round-the-clock protection.’ He rose from the chair and picked up his black leather doctor’s bag. ‘Come on, Gwyn. Time to go.’
‘I’m not doing it to save your elections,’ Kal said. ‘I’m doing it help Zeb. You promised you’d call off her trial.’
Firehand paused at the door. ‘I promised no such thing, Moonheart,’ he said. ‘But it’s too late for that now, anyway. The trial is set for tomorrow.’
Kal took a sharp breath. She couldn’t hide her shock. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘It’s the only day that the courts are in session. The Senate voted today to give General Cassava permission to hold some celebratory games in the week between the elections and the festival of Phanto.’
Kal sank back on her pillow. Ben had often complained that, what with all the various religious festivals and enforced entertainments, it was a wonder that any work got done at all in the city. Many of the conservative, aristocratic politicians actually preferred it that way.
‘Postpone the trial until after the election!’ Kal urged. ‘Give me a chance to find the killer.’
Firehand smiled again, but this time it wasn’t friendly. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, picking up Gwyn. ‘This is my chance to prove to the voters that I am the man to clean up the city from vice and moral laxity. Zeb Zing has bled honest—but susceptible—folk dry for years, even before this supposed
robbery
. I want to show the people of Amaranthium how they are being swindled the moment they set foot in places like the Snake Pit.
‘And I want to see Zeb Zing hang by sunset tomorrow. The festival of Phanto will then be a celebration of all that is good and just in the world. Good day, Moonheart. I advise you to keep your head down and stay in bed. Doctor’s orders.’
And with that, he stepped out of the room.
* * *
Stay in bed
? Kal thought.
Like hell I will!
She threw back the sheets and climbed out of bed. Her body ached all over, and she held her hand to her stomach as she limped over to where a pile of clothes had been left on top of a chest. They looked like they belonged to Zeb: a red silk shirt and black pantaloons. As she reached for the shirt, though, she jerked back in surprise as the chest opened.
‘What are
you
doing in there?’ she said.
Will Straightarrow climbed out of the chest and they fell into each other’s arms. ‘I climbed in through the window. Took me twenty minutes to disarm the cunning poison dart trap that someone had rigged up, though.’
‘My friend Nim has been working on some pretty elaborate defences for the whole house,’ Kal said. ‘Ben doesn’t want any more murders under his roof.’
‘Well, let’s hope the murderer isn’t as crafty as me when it comes to breaking and entering,’ Will said. ‘But anyway, how are you feeling? I was sleeping next to you all night, but you didn’t notice. I had to hide in a hurry when I heard Firehand’s voice outside this morning’
‘Did you hear that creep?’ Kal said. ‘He’s obsessed with taking Zeb down.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Will said. ‘He’s got no evidence to accuse any
one
of any
thing
. I should know, remember—we were very careful to leave no trace of the robbery.’
‘You have to help us, Will. Man of the people or not, your exploits got Zeb into this mess.’
Will held Kal at arm’s length and looked her in the eye. ‘Hey, it’s hardly my fault that Firehand is a zealous crusader who’s got it in for Zeb Zing personally. Do you think that I should take the witness stand? I’d just end up the one doing the rope dance instead of your friend. But I
will
help somehow, Kal, I promise. I’ll think of a way.’
Kal sat down on the foot of the bed and looked her lover up and down. Will was the master of disguise, cunning stunts and careful planning. She thought of his gang of thieves working away on tricks and weapons in their converted brewery.
‘I think I know how you can help us …’ she began.
Will raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m all ears,’ he said.
‘Alright, but first you can help me with a more immediate itch that needs scratching. Come here.’
After they had made slow, quiet and careful love, they lay in the bed discussing Kal’s idea.
‘I’ll come back tonight and we’ll go over it,’ Will said.
‘We’ll see,’ Kal told him. ‘Nim invited me to a party.’
‘You have time to party? Are you even up to it?’
‘I made a promise. And I might need Nim’s help too. Now
you
need to get out of here before Ben or Zeb decide to come and visit me!’
After Will had let himself back out the window, Kal dressed herself in silk. The scarlet shirt brought out the hint of red in her hair; she pulled it back into a tight ponytail, which had the effect of accentuating the severe masculinity of the clothes. Kal examined herself in the mirror by the door. She felt confident in her mind, if not in her bruised and battered body.
She drew a deep breath.
Time to throw myself back into the fight.
* * *
Kal stepped out into a corridor. She didn’t know Ben’s house that well, so she decided to go snooping. She found a door that opened to a narrow staircase, which descended all the way down to a service corridor at basement level, at the end of which she discovered the kitchen.
Kal froze when she realised that a
goblin
was standing at the sink, washing dishes. He—or
she
, perhaps—turned and gave Kal a dumb, disinterested look.
‘Hello,’ Kal said. The creature just looked embarrassed, and went back to furiously scouring a copper pot. Kal shrugged. No wonder Ben had never mentioned his household staff by name to her; that was because he didn’t
have
any staff; he just made use of what basically amounted to slaves, seeing as the Senate didn’t offer goblins any more rights or status than it did domestic pets.
On any other week, she’d take it up with Ben, but so long as he was representing Zeb in court then she would just have to keep her mouth shut. Kal walked past the goblin and found her way into the larder. She found a plate of cold, salted cooked meats, which immediately triggered her saliva glands into action. She rounded up some bread and a big pot of mustard, and made herself a sandwich. She spied a quart jug of milk, fresh in from the ice house, and gulped it down in one go. It was the most delicious meal that Kal had tasted in weeks.
Hunger satisfied, Kal found her way out of the kitchen via a stair that led out into the sunshine around the side of the mansion. When she turned the corner to the frontage, she found Zeb talking to a group of men and women. They headed off down Arcus Hill as Kal approached.
Zeb had a tear in her eye. ‘My gang,’ she said simply.
The Snake Pit crew. So Will had kept his word and set them free.
‘Oh Kal, my worst fear was that they had betrayed me. But they were captured and locked away somewhere.’ She laughed through her tears. ‘Your goddamn King of Thieves. He treated them well, though, I’ll give him that. When they had their blindfolds ripped off, they found themselves sitting at a table in Hondo’s Hog House of all places. The restaurant had been told it was a surprise party, and the food had been paid for in advance.’
Kal could believe that. It sounded like the sort of thing Will might do for fun. ‘It’s probably for my benefit,’ she said. ‘I made quite an impression on him yesterday.’