Authors: Luke Scull
Brodar Kayne squinted as if it were an effort to make out the old belfry a hundred yards ahead of them. ‘I see it. Seems a risky place for a secret hideout.’ His expression turned grim. ‘Are those gibbets?’ He nodded at the cages hanging from the large wooden frame on a raised platform in the centre of the plaza. The wind had picked up with the onset of dusk, causing the swaying cages to clank together in a grisly rhythm.
‘Salazar keeps them well stocked,’ Cole replied. He was taken aback at the look on Brodar Kayne’s face. The man’s expression had turned to stone. ‘The tower is part of an old abandoned temple to the Mother. The Shards meet there once a month. The vestibule collapsed long ago, but there’s a secret entrance at the back.’
‘The Mother,’ Jerek rasped. ‘Ha. Ain’t no goddess looking out for us now.’ He spat on the ground.
Cole decided to move the conversation along. ‘We’ll go around the outside of the Hook. I might get recognized if we try and cut through.’ He suddenly remembered the old man whose skull had been split by the Watchman’s sword. He thought he could see a dark smear of blood on the Tyrant’s Road. It appeared the body had already been hauled away and likely divested of any valuables it had possessed. Such was life in Dorminia.
Cole gestured to the Highlanders and they set off around the edge of the Hook. His keen ears picked up fragments of conversation from passers-by as they made their way along the perimeter of the large plaza. Talk seemed to focus on the lockdown and what it meant for the city. Cole could only vaguely recall the last lockdown, which had occurred when he was a young child. A massive abomination had besieged Dorminia’s walls and a squad of Augmentors had been dispatched to nullify the threat. Not all of them had returned.
He overheard a pair of old women chattering about the weather. They were pointing at the horizon. They quieted as Cole and his companions strolled past, and he felt their curious eyes tracking them as they made their way to the opposite side of the Hook.
Highlanders were exceptionally rare in the Trine. Their homeland bordered the very edge of the world far to the north, beyond the tortured Badlands that were once the vast steppes of the nomadic Yahan horse-tribes.
Cole glanced at the grim figures following behind him. The mere fact they had survived the epic journey this far south was telling enough. These were hard men.
Perhaps almost as hard as he was.
They were nearing the ruined tower. The first droplets of rain began to fall. Cole could see a dark blanket of cloud rolling in from the south-west. He paused for a moment and tilted his head back, intending to wet his face and wipe away some of the blood from his chin. Jerek barged him in the back and he stumbled, hot pain shooting through his ribs.
‘Keep out my fucking way,’ the Highlander snarled. Cole’s mouth dropped open. He had half expected an apology, or at least some acknowledgement that the collision had been accidental. He wanted to call the man to task for his rudeness, but the Highlander’s tone unsettled him. Instead, he gave a sickly smile.
‘Jerek doesn’t like the rain,’ Brodar Kayne said, almost kindly. ‘Causes his scars to itch something rotten. Don’t take it personally.’
‘No offence taken,’ Cole replied casually, though in his mind his fists had already made a bloody mess of the bastard’s face. ‘Almost there.’
They skirted around the side of the ruined tower and the crumbling walls of the western court and vestibule. The skeleton of the building was snaked with ivy. Cole led them around to the rear of the temple where the walls had subsided and the cracked pediment leaned out at a dangerous angle. Warehouses had sprung up near to the rear of the temple. The close proximity of the buildings created a mostly enclosed space hidden from prying eyes.
With a quick look around to ensure no one was watching, Davarus Cole bent down and pulled aside a large patch of ivy. Behind the vegetation was a gap just small enough to squeeze through. He pushed himself through it and gestured at the Highlanders to follow him. Brodar Kayne made it inside with surprising ease, his long limbs negotiating the aperture with impressive flexibility. Jerek proved less supple. A torrent of foul curses accompanied his grunts of exertion as he finally forced himself through the opening.
‘We’re here,’ Cole said. He stared down the stone passage to the steps leading up to the sanctuary. The Shards were doubtless even now fretting about his absence. He felt a shiver of anticipation. He had sustained wounds that would have surely incapacitated a lesser man, and yet here he was, the stoic hero breezing in, doughty new companions in tow. He could hardly wait to see the look on Sasha’s face…
‘Something the matter?’ Brodar Kayne enquired, jolting him out of his reverie. Cole shook his head in response.
‘The door ahead leads to the sanctuary. The Shards will be up there. Let me do the talking and everything will be fine.’ Cole strolled to the end of the corridor and climbed the handful of steps, then rapped out a complex sequence on the door at the top. He waited for a few moments, hearing muffled whispers from just beyond. Finally a bolt was released and the door swung open.
‘
Cole!
’ exclaimed Sasha. Her eyes assessed his battered face without a hint of compassion. ‘You’d better get up here.’
The Shards were gathered around the remains of the large altar that had, at one time, sat proudly at the heart of the Mother’s sanctuary. When, centuries ago, the goddess’s last few worshippers finally accepted her demise and abandoned the temple, they had stripped away the gold statues of the Mother in her various aspects, along with everything else of value. Now the place was bereft of adornment. Rainwater pooled near the base of the altar from a large crack in the temple ceiling above. It proceeded to trickle down into the nave, collecting dust, rat droppings and other assorted filth as it went.
To add final insult to the Mother’s memory, Garrett had his considerable arse propped up against the altar as he watched Cole approach. Ten other pairs of eyes turned to regard the young Shard. It was hard for Cole to be certain in the dim light, but they didn’t seem to contain the expressions of sheer relief he had been expecting.
‘You’re late,’ said Garrett. He tapped the pocket watch in his hand. It was a lavish device, a new invention from the City of Shades. Garrett had purchased it from a Shadowport trader at extravagant cost just before the conflict with Dorminia had exploded.
‘Better late than never, eh?’ Cole replied, giving his best rueful smile. ‘I was sidetracked by an incident with our friends in the Crimson Watch. No harm done.’ He pointed to his face. ‘Except to the nose. Don’t worry, Sash, it will heal.’
Someone coughed. Sasha shook her head and looked at the floor.
‘No such luck for the Watchmen, though,’ Cole continued. He paused dramatically, and then gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘They’re dead.’
Silence met his words. Eventually, Garrett spoke. His voice was soft. ‘Who are those men lurking behind you, Davarus?’
Cole glanced back at the door behind him, where the Highlanders were waiting in the shadows. His palms were beginning to sweat. ‘I was just getting to that. I met them on the way here. One of them, ah, lent me some assistance with the Watch. They needed a place to lie low, so I thought—’
‘Fucking unbelievable. Place is a shithole. What, you want us to hide out here? How about you fuck off. I ain’t staying here. This ain’t fair.’ Jerek emerged into the light and barked the words right in Cole’s face. The young Shard reeled back from the Highlander’s sour breath. Brodar Kayne melted from the shadows an instant later and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
As one, the Shards went to their weapons. Crossbows were raised and levelled at the two strangers. Jerek’s hands immediately went to his axes.
Cole closed his eyes. This wasn’t going quite as well as he’d hoped.
‘Enough,’ commanded Garrett. ‘Lower your weapons. These men are not with the Watch.’
‘Damn right we ain’t,’ said Brodar Kayne. ‘It was me that saved your lad here. He’s got some fruits on him sure enough, but it seems the blows he took scrambled his memory. He was down and out before I intervened.’
‘Is this true?’ Garrett asked. He was using that tone he had so often in the past when his protégé had done something to disappoint him. Cole winced. It still held a certain power.
‘Well, yes, but I had a plan,’ he replied. Looking back, he realized all he’d needed to do was distract one of the Watchmen long enough to steal his weapon and then run them both through. He was a hero, after all. Success was practically
guaranteed
.
The old Highlander’s brow began to furrow. He had that same look Cole had seen back at the Hook. For all of his compatriot’s aggression, something told Cole that getting this man angry was every bit as dangerous as aggravating Jerek. ‘Plan or no plan, I’m grateful for the help,’ he added quickly.
‘Right,’ said Brodar Kayne. The Highlander’s expression turned thoughtful and he scratched at his jaw. ‘The fact is, we’ve got a city full of soldiers searching for us and nowhere to run. Not with the lockdown in effect. Young Cole said we might hide here for a time.’
Garrett suddenly leaped off the altar, his ample gut bulging out of his jerkin and his twin chins wobbling in a manner Cole would have considered comical, were it not for the seriousness of his words. ‘Tell me you gave these Highlanders a soporific before you led them here, Davarus!’
Sudden dread struck Cole like the pommel of the Watchman’s sword. ‘I didn’t think… There were no mindhawks in the sky…’ His voice trailed off before the collective fury in the many pairs of eyes now boring into him.
‘You may have given our location away to the Watch,’ Garrett said quietly. ‘They could be on their way here even now.’
‘Not likely,’ said Brodar Kayne. ‘There ain’t been a mindhawk in the High Fangs for years. Turns out we don’t give up our secrets as easily as you Lowland folk. Stronger wills, I reckon.’
‘You’ve learned to hide your thoughts?’ Garrett asked. He sounded surprised.
‘Can’t say I know anything about that,’ Kayne replied. ‘Thought-mining just don’t work on us. The Shaman roots out dissenters the old-fashioned way.’ His voice trailed off as he spoke. The old warrior suddenly had a troubled look in his remarkable blue eyes.
Relief flooded through Cole. He glanced over at Jerek, who was standing with his arms folded, a dark scowl on his face.
‘Well then,’ said Garrett. The merchant’s panicked expression had been replaced by one of careful consideration. ‘That eases my fears somewhat. I am Garrett, and I lead the men and women you see before you. We are the Shards, a rebel group opposed to Salazar’s tyrannical rule.’
Jerek snorted. His voice dripped with derision. ‘
A rebel group
. Fucking priceless. I ain’t gonna stand here and listen to this shit.’ Without another word the angry warrior stormed off down the stairs leading to the nave and began examining the ancient stone benches arranged there. He chose one, threw his pack down on the floor next to it, and then lay down on his back, hands folded behind his head.
Several of the Shards had raised their crossbows again. The Urich brothers were red with anger, murder in their eyes. Garrett gestured frantically. They relaxed a fraction at his command but continued to shoot furious glares in Jerek’s direction.
His compatriot looked mildly embarrassed. ‘The Wolf’s just a bit irritable,’ said the old barbarian apologetically. ‘He gets like that when he’s tired. He don’t mean no disrespect. I’m Brodar Kayne—’
A bitter voice echoed up from the nave, interrupting the tall Highlander. ‘
Well, ain’t this the very lap of luxury. A just fucking reward for surviving the deadliest places known to man
.’
‘Nice place you got here,’ Kayne finished. He cleared his throat. ‘Now that we’re acquainted, you mind getting us something to eat? All this excitement is making me hungry.’
Cole stared into the flames and listened to the rain drumming on the ruined dome of the temple. They’d managed to get a small fire going away from the damp, in a spot where the roof was mostly intact. Loud rumbles of thunder competed with the crackling of fire and Jerek’s snoring to overwhelm Garrett’s droning voice as he informed Brodar Kayne of the finer details of the group. The tension had eased somewhat, though certain of his colleagues still appeared uncomfortable with the presence of the two grizzled warriors.
‘—and this is Sasha, our best seditionist,’ Garrett continued. ‘She plots to stir up resentment against Salazar and his Grand Council. It is a fine line to walk. Hatred, as with every other strong emotion, is like a flare to the mindhawks. We have to be cautious.’
Too afraid to do what needs to be done
, Cole thought. If it was up to him, the Shards would be taking the fight to Salazar in a far more direct manner.
‘Vicard here, our alchemist, manufactures the narcotics that allow us to shield our thoughts from those magical mutations in the sky. Consuming too many of the drugs can be dangerous – and our supplies seem depleted as of late.’
‘The more we push, the greater the demand,’ Sasha said, somewhat hotly. ‘We’ve spoken about this, Garrett.’
‘I know,’ Cole’s mentor replied in a soothing tone of voice. ‘It was simply an observation. The ingredients grow ever more expensive and difficult to get hold of. I keep us as well stocked as I can.
‘You’ve seen our physician in action,’ Garrett continued, gesturing towards the thin old man sat opposite him. Cole’s eyes narrowed. He was sure Remy had taken a sick pleasure in clicking his nose back into place. It was all he could do to stop from screaming as tears poured down his face. At least his ribs were only bruised and not broken. Remy had warned against any kind of physical exertion for at least a fortnight, but Cole had quietly decided to ignore his advice. Heroes didn’t sit around waiting for their wounds to heal.
Brodar Kayne gave him a broad grin. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile back at the Highlander. Like Cole, the old barbarian was clearly a man of action.
‘And these two strapping fellows?’ Kayne asked, nodding across the fire. Cole frowned. He disliked the Urich brothers, who had given him a hard time as he grew up in Garrett’s care.