Chapter fifty-four

In Melloreis

 

‘It looks like we could do with that scroll’ said Hardacre, once they’d got back to the armoury. They were all dishevelled and apprehensive, except for Rem who was fast asleep and snoring. The echoing vault was filled with a strangely comforting sound, like the noise of a giant cat purring.

‘What scroll?’ asked Kath, nursing a cut on her knee that she’d acquired during her futile pursuit of the alarm cloud.  Her mouth was dry and her heart was sinking.

‘Oh, one that my employer had back in Kinspit’ he said, ‘I think it’s connected to that Dwarven Magic door’

Viola was the only one standing up and she couldn’t quite keep still.

‘I think that we should stop worrying about the door and get back to Ortia as quickly as we can’ she said

Kath frowned.

‘No – we need to explore that vault first – it’s obviously of the utmost importance’

‘Don’t be ridiculous’ said Viola, ‘who know what will happen next? Ortia may be in mortal danger’

Hardacre, whose mind had been on other things, snapped it back to attention.

‘We have to consider the possible consequences of that alarm cloud, certainly’ he said. The others could see the concern on his face. It was particularly disquieting given how very rarely they saw any obvious emotion there at all.

‘It went to Tlaxaca’ said Viola ‘isn’t that obvious?’

Hardacre nodded.

‘Yes it is’ he said, ‘and so that means that something in the vault is of enough interest, or more likely concern, to the Tlaxacans for them to set up an unusually powerful alarm cloud’

‘And one that has lasted for nine hundred years’ said Kath.

Viola looked puzzled.

‘That’s not all that long…’ she said. Then she remembered who she was talking to, ‘never mind…’

 ‘It was going bloody fast’ said Kath, ‘it’ll probably be there by now’

‘Where is “there”?’ asked Hardacre, directing his question particularly to Viola.

She shuddered.

‘Huatlacan – Whitecloak’s city, in the north-west of Tlaxaca… probably…’ answered Viola in a whisper.

‘And it was Whitecloak that led the attack on East Visneoria?’ asked Hardacre.

‘Yes, him and his hordes of evil things’ she said, her eyes just briefly resting on Rem, before moving rapidly away. She blushed slightly, embarrassed by her reflexes.

‘But it can’t have been just Whitecloak and the kinaam, surely?’ said Kath

‘No’ said Viola, ‘there were humans too – they acted as the slave drivers’

‘That makes sense’ said Hardacre, ‘there are usually humans involved’

He paused briefly, as if considering the age-old perfidy of the human race, and then continued.

‘So, we have to assume that the alarm cloud has gone back to Whitecloak’s city and that he will have responded immediately. I presume, therefore, that he will send troops here as quickly as he can. Some sort of force could arrive here at any time’

Hardacre looked up at Viola.

‘I think we have to stay here, Captain, or at least some of us do,’ he said, ‘I think that we have to try and open the vault and see what’s inside. And, I think, assuming that it is something powerful, constructed by Quiena and her team, we have to try and protect it. Possibly, also, it might be something that can help us’

Viola’s anger rose to the surface.

‘I have to go back’ she shouted, ‘my city is in peril’ 

Hardacre stood up and walked towards Viola.

‘We can communicate with the Proconsul’ he said. He picked up his bag and pulled out four sheets of paper and showed them to the party. Three of the sheets were pristine white while the fourth one was a dirty grey.

‘Are those mail papers?’ asked Kath, her eyes lighting up.

Hardacre nodded, looking at her.

‘They cost a fortune. How did you get hold of four of them?’

‘They’re Hybitor property’ he said flatly and turned back to Viola.

‘They allow communication at a distance’  

 ‘I know’ said Viola, ‘I’ve seen one before – the first one you sent ended up in my house ’

‘Yes, I recall’ said Hardacre, smiling, ‘they’re not always perfectly accurate, I’m afraid...’

Viola was too terrified to respond to this momentary distraction.

‘Anyway’ he continued, ‘we can send a message explaining what’s happened and alerting her to be on her guard’

Viola shrugged and grimaced. She kept glancing at the door.

‘Well, yes, we can, but I still think my place is back by Marthian’s side’ 

‘It won’t be safe to travel back now’ said Kath, ‘and none of the rest of us can afford to go with you.’

Viola was beginning to throw her stuff into her backpack as they spoke.

‘We can’t stop you going’ said Hardacre, his tone a little harder than usual, ‘but I’m inclined to think that it would be an act of dangerous folly’

‘At least wait until morning’ suggested Kath. She moved round the armoury so that she was between Viola and the door.

Viola shook her head.

‘I can’t stay here’ she said in a quivery voice.

‘Come on Vee’ said Kath, ‘this is so silly…’

‘Marthian needs me, my friends need me, the general needs me’ said Viola, ‘they might all die before I get back there’

She gathered up her bags and ran out of the door which was pulled to but not completely closed.  She ran so fast and so nimbly that Kath couldn’t move quickly enough to block her.

‘You stay here with Rem; I’ll try to stop her’ said Hardacre running out of the door.

Kath sat stone still listening to Rem snoring until Hardacre returned, about half-an-hour later, empty handed. They both knew that this was likely to happen; Viola could easily avoid capture if she really wanted to.

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Kath, gripping hold of Hardacre’s arm. Her face was as pale as the moon through clouds.

‘Search the vault, secure the city, fight – if we can’ said Hardacre, ‘the options are becoming more and more limited. I think we should sleep until Rem wakes up and then we go back to the vault’

They sat in silence for a while, wondering where Viola was now, and whether she’d make it back to Ortia safely.

Hardacre put his hand in his pocket and withdrew the strange mail message that he’d received earlier from John. He read it again, the short message appended to an earlier letter.

Stuck…………………………………..Find…………………………………Cannot……………………………….with………………………….DeepVault……………………………………….Dimension………………………..identity?...............................scroll……………clearly. Be careful………………………………….Dwarven………………………….Proceed……………………………..John

Something had happened to it, something which had clearly prevented the words from passing through the blink space. Hardacre frowned and sighed, softly. If only Mr Ismay had taken the grey mail paper, that might well have got through.  As it was what did this tell him? The vague fragments suggested a problem with the Deep Vault and hinted at dimensional problems and Dwarven Magic, but there was nothing concrete. However, if Mr Ismay had been forced to use an old letter then this suggested that he was not at home, where Hardacre knew there was plenty of fresh mail paper. The best thing to do was to try and contact Mr Ismay one more time and then alert the twins. He had too many troubles and too few solutions.

Hardacre reached inside his bag and pulled out a stiff sheet of grey paper and a small wooden board. He balanced the board on his knee and then flattened the mail paper on the board. He began to write. 

Rem woke up suddenly from his very deep sleep and scrambled to his feet. He rubbed his eyes and ambled over to the two humans.

‘What I missed?’ he asked

***

Viola was pleased to have avoided Hardacre, who she had observed quite clearly trying to follow her. He might have many excellent qualities but he was no elf-tracker. She feinted to the west, as if making to the gate through which they had originally entered the city, and then backtracked before making for the northern gate. She would be so grateful to get out of the horrid ruin and on her way home.

The city curse was still strong and so she made straight for the gate. The sun was just setting and she wanted to find a place to stop outside the city walls before darkness fell completely. As she approached the gate her instincts and eagle-sharp eyesight were triggered – was there somebody hiding in the shadow of the gate? Were the Tlaxacans here already? She crouched down behind some rubble but it was too late.

Captain Flavia stepped out of the shadows.

‘Viola!’ she shouted.

Viola was so shocked that she just stood up and made a few steps towards her, open mouthed. This was the first time she had ever been pleased to see her compatriot.

‘Flavia – what are you doing here?’ she exclaimed.

‘I’ve come to arrest you and your companions’ Flavia said, smiling. From behind her five guards appeared, each with their sword drawn.

‘What?’ said Viola, ‘arrest me? Whatever for?’

‘By order of the Proconsul’ Flavia said. 

Viola stood for a second, too distressed to respond.

 ‘On what charge?’ she eventually asked

Flavia shrugged

‘You’ll soon find out’ 

One of Flavia’ troops moved towards Viola to grab her. Flavia laughed.

‘I’ll deal with the Captain. She’s not likely to put up much of a struggle’

Flavia ambled towards Viola, clearly looking towards where she might run to.

‘Unbuckle your belt and give me your sword’ she ordered, ‘I’m certain that you were never trained to use it properly anyway.’

Anger gripped Viola’s guts. She wasn’t going to stand for this – how could Marthian have sent that elf out to arrest her. She pulled her sword out of her scabbard

Flavia’s smile grew broader. The guards behind her laughed at the awkwardness of Viola’s actions. She held the sword uncertainly.

Flavia drew her own sword with a flourish. Viola swallowed hard but her anger had hardened to stone.

‘Viola – put down your weapon’ commanded Flavia, ‘you’re only making our job unnecessarily difficult. I will cut you if necessary’

‘You’ll do what?’ Viola bellowed and stepped forward waving her sword. Their swords clashed, surprising both of them. The other guards looked on fascinated – but they were still laughing – they all knew both combatants well enough to predict what would happen next.

Flavia took a step back and swung her sword again. Viola stepped back and parried. Flavia was surprised at the speed of her opponent’s reflexes. She thrust again and Viola parried again. Flavia had never seen her look like this; Viola’s mind and body were wholly concentrating on resisting her. However, it would only be a matter of time. They circled round each other, Flavia intent on probing and wounding, Viola defending desperately.   The younger, stronger, elf couldn’t understand how her centuries of training didn’t allow her to make the decisive blow. Viola sweated but continued to resist, for thrust after thrust.

Flavia’s troops were still grinning but now they had started to get a little restless.

‘Captain – do you need help?’ one of them asked, tentatively.

‘No – I can handle this!’ she shouted back, turning briefly to address them ‘She’s just a play soldier, a gossip and a sneak’

 Viola flinched slightly, but waited politely while Flavia addressed her soldiers – she had no desire to hurt anyone.  While she was off her guard Flavia leant forward and deliberately stabbed her in the left foot.

‘You coward’ she cried out, pain searing through her leg, tears welling in her eyes. Flavia and her company erupted into howls of mocking laughter again.

Viola had had enough – for the first time she moved to stab her sword at Flavia. She was so quick that Flavia’s hurried parry got nowhere near her blade.  Her careful blow went up into Flavia’s chest and straight into her ribcage. There was an awful sound of splintering bone. Flavia stared at Viola with a perplexed expression of extreme shock and fear, and then she fell to the ground, bleeding profusely.

The laughter on the guards’ lips died immediately and they began running towards Viola, intent on cutting her to pieces. The soldier closest to Viola had taken three steps in her direction when he suddenly staggered sideways, bewildered. He stopped and turning saw an arrow sticking out of his backside. He scrambled awkwardly back to the others, who were now standing stock still, looking around fearfully for the origin of the arrow.

Another arrow smacked into the ground, just where the injured guard had been standing, and then, almost simultaneously, another one appeared beside it. This one didn’t so much bury itself in the ground as bounce.

‘Our aim is sure to be better next time’ called out a female voice from somewhere in the shadows above them.

 The guards fled, dragging their injured colleague with them. A moment later Viola heard the whinny of horses being ridden away. She fell to the ground, her stabbed foot giving way beneath her.

‘Good throwing Fred!’ said the female voice. Viola could have sworn that it had a western accent.

Potentilla appeared high up above Viola, perched on a flat bit of the city wall; behind her stood Fred, awkwardly clutching an arrow in each hand.

Viola remembered Flavia. She crawled across to look at her. She was dead, a pool of blood forming around her body. Viola let out a cry of horror, staring at the corpse, unbelievingly. She had never killed anyone in her life. 

Potentilla climbed down the wall and joined Viola. She stared at the body dispassionately.

‘She was clearly a total bastard. I saw it all’

Viola sat on the ground and stared up at Potentilla.  She was too crushed by horror to bring recent events into any kind of focus.

‘I can’t go back now’ she sobbed through her pain and guilt.

‘Who are you?’ asked Potentilla.

‘Captain… umm… Viola’ 

Potentilla stared at Viola carefully and Viola finally looked more closely at Potentilla. Realisation began to spread over their faces.  Potentilla attempted a clumsy salute.

‘Ma’am ‘she said, standing to attention, ‘I’m Potentilla – and I’m at your service’. She didn’t volunteer a rank.  She grinned broadly and immediately returned to her normal, informal, slouch.

Viola stood up, distracted from her predicament for a second.

‘Soldier…’ she said, ‘where on earth have you come from?’

‘Visnea’ said Potentilla, ‘Special Ops’

 ‘How on earth…’ started Viola, but was interrupted by the sight of the large human, who had finally found his way down to join them.

‘I’m Fred’ he said grumpily, ‘I’m from Eth’

‘You’re Kath’s friends!’ exclaimed Viola, with a start of realisation.

For the first and last time in their lives Potentilla and Fred shared the same expression – relief and joy.

‘She’s still alive then?’ asked Fred

Viola nodded emphatically.

‘That’s great!’ said Potentilla, ‘I’ve got something to give back to her’