Rebellion

CHAPTER 7

“How fares the destruction, General?”

Lyf was perched on the wall at the top of Rix’s leaning tower, half a day after the fall of Caulderon. He was often drawn to the place, perhaps for the contrast with his reeking temple and his ever-more frantic search for the key.

“My king, a third of Palace Ricinus had been blasted down already,” said General Hillish, a squat, muscle-bound man with slash-tattoos across his forehead. A round head joined his torso without any visible neck. He stood on a box so he could see over the wall and pointed out the details.

“I have a thousand Hightspaller slaves hauling the rubble away,” Hillish continued. “Another thousand are digging out the cleared area to expose the foundations of the kings’ palace of old.”

“Very good,” said Lyf. “Before the invaders came, our palace stood there since the beginning of recorded history. Are you searching out its original stones?”

“We are, my king. Many were re-used in later buildings. I have a hundred masons checking every stone and marking all those from the kings’ palace.”

“Excellent. I’m going to rebuild it exactly the way it was before, to show that Cythe will always prevail. Where’s Rochlis?”

“Here, my king,” said General Rochlis, from the doorway.

“What progress can you report?”

“We’ve rounded up more than half the people on your list, including a goodly number of Herovians, and taken them away… to be dealt with.”

“Why did you hesitate, Rochlis?”

“My king, I’m a professional soldier. In battle I ask no quarter, and give none…”

“But?” said Lyf, irritably. One after another, his people were questioning or reinterpreting his orders.

“But putting people to death simply because they might cause trouble… my king, it…” Rochlis, an honourable man who always did his best, was struggling to find the words.

“It’s not that many,” said Lyf. “Barely two hundred.”

“Nonetheless, it turns my stomach. I’m sorry, my king.”

Lyf had once been an honourable man too. He was no longer honourable, but a good leader was careful not to drive his people too far.

“I won’t force you,” said Lyf, making his displeasure evident. “I’ll see to the executions myself.”

“My king,” said Rochlis, sweating, “I believe it to be unwise. It can only make the ones who escaped — ”

“Who escaped?” cried Lyf. “The city was sealed.”

“The chancellor and his retinue, for starters.”

“I suppose I should have expected him to get away. He’s a wily foe.”

“But he’s taken Tali with him.”

Lyf’s face froze. “How did this happen?”

“He must have had a hidden escape tunnel, further concealed by magery.”

“Find her! If the chancellor discovers that she bears the master pearl, and cuts it out, his magians might be able to command my four pearls.”

“We’re hunting her now, with every means at our disposal.”

“What about my other enemies?”

“We can’t find Rixium Ricinus,” said Rochlis.

Lyf let out a bellow of fury. “You told me the shifters had him trapped way down under the palace.”

“He killed them and disappeared.”

“One man killed a whole pack of shifters? How?”

“With that underground explosion we felt earlier. We believe he set off a sump full of stink-damp and burned them alive.”

“But not himself?”

“It’s thought that he crawled through a freshly opened fissure and found a way down into the ancient tunnels. We haven’t mapped them all yet.”

“He’s too quick, too clever,” said Lyf. “He must not escape.”

Not just because Rix was descended from that treacherous swine, Axil Grandys, who had betrayed, mutilated and murdered Lyf so long ago. And not just because Rix bore the cursed sword, Maloch, that had caused Lyf an aeon of pain and torment. Rix had fought Lyf twice, and twice had wounded him. He had a genius for escaping; he was an intuitive fighter and a leader who inspired loyalty. That made him a most dangerous man.

“Find him. And if he looks like getting away, kill him.”