Only the Guilty Live

by Robert Mammone

in Issue 60, January 2017

When the Cataphracts came for Marduk, he sat sprawled amidst the splintered remains of a table and chairs, the unconscious and bloodied bodies of several men beside him.

‘Beetles,’ Marduk shouted, his voice slurred. He took a swig from his mug then dashed it ringing across the flagstones. Around him, a huddle of silent, watchful men stepped back as the pair of iron helmeted Imperial guardsmen crashed through the doorway. A black-clad man with a white face and dark eyes followed them.

‘Where were you at Skalak’s Pass?’ Marduk roared, spittle flying. He tried to stand, slipped on spilled beer and fell.

The Cataphracts watched him impassively from behind slit-eyed helms, massive breastplates muddy red in the crackling firelight. Marduk struggled to his feet, loudly cursing when he slipped once more. He tried again and stood. He swayed, hands loosely bunched by his sides. His jaw jutted out. The cheekbone under his right eye had purpled and blood stained the knuckles of both hands.

‘Enough,’ said the man in black. The room went quiet. Outside, pennants snapped in the chill breeze along the muddy lane leading to the docks. The shouts of drill sergeants on a distant parade ground echoed. Inside, a hungry expectation grew as the crowd sensed the tension rise.

‘Enough?’ Marduk spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. He flicked his wrist and a dagger in his sleeve dropped into his palm. The edge shone bright. With the other hand, he groped for his sword.

Immediately, the Cataphracts drew their swords, the shriek of metal loud. Marduk smiled in cool anticipation.  

‘I held the line at Skalak’s Pass,’ he said. ‘While you huddled in the valley like terrified sheep, my men and I held the line. Good men died because cowards like you refused to do what was right.’

A Cataphract started forward before his partner grabbed his armoured forearm with a heavy gauntleted hand and pulled him back.

‘Right?’ The Cataphracts parted and the dark-eyed man stepped through the gap. ‘Is not guarding the Imperator their one and only task?’

The men in the room murmured amongst themselves. A forest of gibbets crowded Execution Hill; the low hanging fruit of deserters and traitors tainted the air with their rot. The ugly stink of treason clung like a sickness. Was there to be another adornment?

‘Men bled and died that day to save the Empire and its Imperator,’ Marduk said. His hand gripped the sword hilt so hard his knuckles shone white.  

‘The Imperator honours their sacrifice. You act is if you don’t care that as an Imperial officer brawling and drinking dishonours the Imperator’s name and risks a court martial. Or worse.’

Marduk looked at the man and spat more blood onto the floor.

‘Janos, isn’t it? I’ve seen you skulking around Blevin’s tent. I’ll remember you.’

Janos’s eyes narrowed. ‘See you do.’ He looked around the tavern.

‘For the love of God, aren’t there are better places to get drunk and forget?’

‘Who says I want to forget?’

‘Men who want to forget come to places like this,’ Janos said.

Marduk considered him for a moment. ‘What do you want?’

‘General Blevins wants to see you.’

‘Really? And if I don’t?’

‘I have orders to bring you in. Blevins didn’t specify whether you should be conscious or not.’

Marduk considered this for a moment. He slammed his sword back into the scabbard and tucked the dagger into his sleeve. Looking around at the groaning bodies and shattered furniture, Marduk reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins which he tossed over the bar. They fell in a bright rain on the flagstones.

‘For your trouble, barkeep,’ Marduk said, before turning back to Janos. ‘Come on then. Let’s see what Blevins wants.’  

Marduk turned to one of the Cataphracts. He looked through the helmet slit at the blank glare. Laughing, he rapped the heavy breastplate with his knuckles then followed Janos out.

A bitter wind carried the salty tang of the harbour. Watery light filtered through grey, racing clouds. A desperate sense of exposure rushed through Marduk. He turned to go back inside. The Cataphracts blocked him. Marduk felt a headache bloom. He sighed, turned and slogged through the mud after Janos.

                              


Janos left him outside the pavilion and marched off with the Cataphracts. Tents stretched in all directions. Canvas snapped and rolled in the breeze, suffused with an eye- watering stink from the latrines lining the nearby creek. Clanging steel caught Marduk’s attention. Two men practised with swords. One saw him, saluted and returned to the bout.

‘Damnation,’ Marduk whispered. The memory of the line at Skalak’s Pass returned to him, red and howling, leaving an ache of longing and despair. He balled his trembling hand into a fist. Gritting his teeth, Marduk straightened his tunic and stepped into the pavilion’s quiet darkness. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw an officer sitting at a desk, reading a report. The officer spared him a glance then his eyes dropped back to the page.  

‘The general is expecting you.’

Marduk didn’t bother to salute. He walked deeper into the pavilion.

Lanterns hanging from timber joists lit the interior. A camp bed, several chairs and a desk were the only furnishings. Behind the desk sat a great bear of a man looking at a piece of paper through a large magnifying glass. A sword in a scabbard sat on a chair, the gold embossed leather marking his rank.

Marduk saluted.  

‘General.’

Sunken eyes beneath bushy, greying eyebrows regarded Marduk. He thought the old man looked exhausted.

‘You’re drunk.’

Marduk bristled. ‘I’ve been drinking. I’m on leave.’

‘Not anymore. I’ve just had it cancelled.’

‘Cancelled?’ Marduk’s face clouded. ‘My men and I have only just returned. We’ve chased rebels all over the Severini Hills for the best part of three weeks.’

‘Don’t grandstand, Marduk. I know where you’ve been. I sent you there.’

‘Then you owe me.’

‘I don’t owe you a damn thing,’ Blevins said. He sat back and rubbed at his right temple.  

‘Then I’ll resign my commission.’

‘You’ll do what?’ Blevins’ face grew mottled.

‘You heard me. Push me and I’ll be on the first ship home.’

‘I’ll have it sunk,’ Blevins said, his full lips turning up. Marduk didn’t take the hint.

‘I’m not a tinker’s toy. You can’t wind me up and send me off to kill and kill again. There are limits…’ Marduk faltered and clenched his fist.

Blevins regarded him for long seconds. He slumped back in his chair.

‘You’re my best man out in the field, Marduk,’ Blevins said, his voice low. ‘I need someone I can trust. You don’t know the pressure I’m under. The campaign…’ Blevins’ voice trailed away, and he shook his head.  

Marduk felt his stomach clench to see the old man so desperate.  

‘All right,’ he said, loathing himself despite his words. ‘One more time.’

Blevins nodded. ‘That’s what you said after Skalak,’ he said, his smile brittle.

Marduk shrugged. ‘And here we are.’

‘Tell me about the Severini job. Mission accomplished?’

‘It’s in my report.’

‘Try to humour your commanding officer, there’s a good lad.’

Marduk watched Blevins for a moment then straightened his shoulders. ‘Acting on orders, we infiltrated a rebel encampment straddling a supply route across the Severini Hills. We dispersed the camp and captured a majority of the rebels, with the loss of no men on our side.’

‘And on their side?’

‘We had ourselves a little hanging party. Those rebels won’t trouble us again. Until the next lot emerge from the usual places,’ Marduk said.

Blevin’s eyes narrowed. ‘There’s always more. Until there isn’t, the Empire relies on us doing our duty.’ His voice held no warmth.

‘Wasn’t Skalak’s Pass enough, General?’ Marduk’s headache pressed painfully against the inside of his skull.

‘Damn it, Marduk,’ Blevins said. ‘You get to play that card only so many times before it becomes as worn as a whore’s virtue.’

The two men looked at each other for a long moment. The fabric of the tent rippled and Marduk felt a cold breeze across the back of his neck.

Blevins tapped the paper on the desk and shook his head. ‘Another two weeks and the passes will be blocked for six months.’

‘Leaving your besieging forces isolated.’

‘They’ve enough supplies and men to last the winter.’

‘So what so important it can’t wait for spring?’

‘I don’t have the luxury of time. I need you for something… delicate.’

Adrenaline trickled through Marduk’s veins. It felt cold, and it hurt. The kernel of excitement blooming in his chest sickened him.

‘What’s the mission?’

‘Retrieval.’

‘Where?’

‘It’s a delicate matter. You’re aware our new regime in Glorka province has fallen?’

‘That’s, what, the fourth attempt in the last two years?’ Marduk laughed.

Blevins stared hard at him. He rose to his feet and lumbered over to the flap. Pulling it aside, he leaned into the gap.

‘Halk! Find out what’s happened to my lunch. I’m about to gnaw the leg off my chair. And make sure they’ve warmed my wine.’ Without waiting for a reply, Blevins dropped the flap.

‘You should be more careful,’ Blevins said, returning to his chair.

‘Halk’s spying on you?’

‘Has been for the last five months. Trust is in short supply in the Imperator’s palace. At court, they play politics with words and knives. The boy should never have gone.’

Marduk sighed and rubbed eyes that felt raw. His head throbbed. ‘So where in Glorka province is our friend?’

‘The capitol,’ Blevins said, heavily.

‘Holy God,’ Marduk swore. ‘In that meat grinder? We’ve had it under siege since Evinstide.’

‘We will take it back. Again,’ Blevins said.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Roland D’ath.’

‘Wasn’t there something about a political attaché being kidnapped?’

‘That’s him.’

‘So we’ve lost a pen pusher. It’s not the first time.’

‘This pen pusher is the son of the Duke of Fellwatch.’

‘Tomas D’ath. Is that old lizard still alive?’

‘Not anymore. That’s the problem. The Imperator is having trouble on the Great Council. With D’ath dead and his seat empty, the numbers are precarious. There’s talk one of the Council factions is manoeuvring to have Roland declared dead and put up one of his cousins in his place.’

‘They should never have sent the boy.’

Blevins shrugged. ‘Glorka’s a sinecure. It’s Imperial policy to re-establish rule there by selling government positions to the highest bidder. Fellwatch spent a small fortune buying his son the position, expecting a fivefold return on his investment. Remember the joke about never getting between a duke and a bag of gold? With D’ath it was doubly so. Short of marching a division in to haul Roland home, I’m relying on you to fix it.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to involve the commander of the siege?’

‘I only received the orders last night. You will be just as quick and more reliable.’

Marduk nodded. ‘How do I manage the siege?’

Blevins smiled tightly. ‘Carefully. Perhaps it will be all over by the time you get there. One hopes for quick success lest the siege shatters the Treasury once and for all.’

Marduk looked up.

‘Virgins quiver less in their marriage bed, Marduk. Surely the hero of Skalak’s Pass can take the truth.’

‘Execution Hill is full of men who told the truth, General.’

Blevins’ good humour drained away. He nodded.

‘And I’ve signed the orders myself, more times than I care to remember. Still, you have to know all of it.’ He tapped the table and allowed himself a tight smile. ‘Look on the bright side, Roland may be dead.’

‘Dead? Is the mission is stillborn before it begins? Have you… have I been set up to fail?’

‘Maybe. I’m in enough disfavour at court right now.’ Blevins shook his head. ‘Haven’t you heard? The sycophants who whisper in the Imperator’s ear claim I’m an incompetent drunk with a fondness for boys. Apparently the rebellion can be brought to heel with a bugle call and a mounted charge, sabres drawn.’ He grinned sourly. ‘Your success buys me time and the Imperator’s confidence.’

Marduk couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder at the flap leading outside. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the desk tight.  

‘You’ve an army here, hardened and battle ready. March it home. The people will flock to you. It’s past time someone dealt with the dolt on the throne. He’s bleeding us dry out here.’

Marduk was dismayed to see real fear creep across Blevins face. The old man shuffled. He coughed and shook his head a fraction. Marduk felt the hope drain out of him.

‘So there’s no other way?’

‘None.’ The colour slowly returned to Blevins’s face. He pulled a leather wallet from beneath a pile of papers and held it out.

Marduk took the wallet and opened it. Inside were several sheets of paper. He lifted out the topmost and glanced over it.

‘Who are these people?’

‘You’ll know them well enough before you return. Glorka is no picnic.’

‘My men can handle it.’

‘You’re one of my best, but you’ll need locals to get you in and out. One name on that list, Colm, is the son of colonists. He knows the lay of the land better than any of your men.’

Marduk scowled. He checked the names again and looked up in alarm.

‘Valens? I’m not taking a Keeper.’

The general leaned on his desk, which creaked under his weight. The lantern light shifted. Shadows crawled across the canvas. A chill breeze caressed Marduk’s neck.

‘I’m not giving you a choice. Glorka is dangerous. Colm will be useful, but if you want to find D’ath and get out in one piece, then a Keeper and a Child is your best hope. We’ve given it the scent.’

‘I’m sure you have,’ Marduk said, feeling sick.  

Blevins ran a hand over his face. Marduk realised how tired he looked.

‘You have your orders. I’m relying on you to keep the court dogs from my door.’ He hesitated a moment.

‘I thank you for your confidence. But there’s nothing to be done about it. Don’t you see?

Marduk swallowed his response. He saluted and left.

                              
 

A long line of men in red and black, pikes balanced on shoulders, marched by Marduk as he stamped his boots free of mud and entered the confines of a whitewashed building. He walked between bales of fodder on one side and nailed crates on the other. The smell of oiled steel mingled with the thick scent of hay. Light filtered through gaps in the roof, setting the dust ablaze. Raised voices grew louder with each step. Grimacing, Marduk let his hand stray to his sword hilt as he entered a large open space.

‘Get your damned hands off me, she-devil.’ A broad shouldered, bald man stood toe to toe with a taller woman with skin was so black it was almost blue. She glared at him with murder in her eyes. A figure in uniform stood to one side, looking unsure. When he saw Marduk, he hastily saluted. Marduk waved his hand at him as he moved to break up the confrontation.

‘What’s all this about?’ he roared in his best parade ground voice.

The black woman looked at him. Sweat glistened in her close-cropped hair. ‘Tell this pig to keep his hands to himself,’ she spat, returning her gaze to the bald-headed man.

‘Why would I touch filth like you? Back home, you’d be-‘

She slapped him hard across the face. His head snapped back. He put a hand to his reddening face and drew his sword with the other. The woman reached for hers. Before either could square off, Marduk stepped in and pushed them away.

‘Put that bloody thing back before I break it over your head.’ The bald-headed man’s eyes bulged, but he read the intent in Marduk’s face well enough. He slammed the sword back into the scabbard and folded his arms over his chest.

‘You,’ Marduk said, stabbing a finger at the woman. ‘You keep your hands to yourself.’

The woman opened her mouth in outrage, but saw the look on Marduk’s face. Compressing her full lips into a thin line, she nodded curtly.

‘Who are you?’ the bald-headed man asked, not hiding the sulking tone in his voice.

‘Captain Marduk.  

‘Marduk?’ the man said. His face took on a boyish joy. ‘The hero of Skalak’s Pass? That Marduk?’

‘Yes, that Marduk,’ Marduk said. ‘And you are..?’  

‘Colm. Colm Landhalter.’ Colm puffed out his chest. ‘It’s an honour to serve with you.’  

Marduk looked coolly at him for a moment then switched his gaze to the woman.

‘You,’ Marduk said. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Inari.’ She crossed her sinewy arms, displaying the scars criss-crossing her skin.

‘That’s it? Inari?’

‘She’s a slave. She doesn’t have a last name,’ sneered Colm.

‘Not a slave anymore,’ she said.

‘Where’s your master?’ Colm said.

‘Dead. I cut his throat from here to here,’ Inari said, running her thumb across her throat. Her look of satisfaction chilled Marduk.

‘A runaway. I could claim you as my own,’ Colm said.

Inari stormed forward, hands reaching for his eyes. Marduk pulled her back.

‘Easy,’ he whispered in her ear. Inari glanced at him and he saw the hurt and rage in her eyes.  

‘General Blevin’s just freed her,’ Marduk said, looking around the room. ‘Though anyone who kills their master is free enough in my book. I’ll have no truck with slaves or slavers, do you understand?’

Colm nodded.

‘And you, Corporal. It’s Sol, yes?’

‘Sir,’ Sol said, saluting again. His long face was blank, shoulders thrust back.

‘Less of the sir, if you don’t mind. We’re not on the parade ground.’

‘Sir,’ Sol said, before checking himself. Inari laughed; a bright sound at odds with her earlier anger. Sol’s face coloured.

‘Which regiment, Corporal?’

‘Fifteenth Rangers. Six months in Glorka.’

‘Good. We’ll need those skills.’ Sol nodded, opened his mouth to speak, then shut it.

‘Spit it out,’ Marduk said, knowing what Sol was about to ask.

‘I was in the first relief column. After Skalak, I mean,’ Sol said, reddening.

‘I know what you mean,’ Marduk said. He felt his face stiffen.

‘I want to say it’s an honour. What you did, up there.’ Sol’s Adam’s apple bobbed. ‘It’s an honour.’

Nodding, Marduk abruptly turned to address Inari.

‘What about you?’ he asked, trying to mask the tension in his voice. ‘Why were you chosen?’

‘Pit fighter,’ Inari said, her eyes distant. ‘I know the capital. They trained me to fight. They thought I was a joke, something to make the crowd laugh in between all the real bouts. I showed them.’

Marduk nodded, heard the sound of trumpets and shouting men and felt a brief surge in his chest.

‘Our mission is clear,’ he said, looking at each of them. ‘We’re to retrieve a man important to the Imperator. I’m putting my trust in people I’ve never met. We will only succeed if you keep your egos in check,’ he said, letting his gaze settle on Colm for a moment. ‘I don’t care about your prejudices. What I want is your experience and obedience. We’re going into a war zone.’

The hollow rattle of a chain reached Marduk before he heard the slow clapping. Feeling a chill steal over him, he turned and watched a figure in black emerge from the corridor.

‘Given the shouts I heard from the street, I half expected there to be a brawl. No doubt if I wait five minutes, my patience will be rewarded.’ The speaker’s rich voice accentuated his contempt. Beneath a tall, broad-brimmed hat, flashing eyes glared. He rattled a chain hanging from his wrist and the links clicked like tumbling dice. Marduk heard shuffling and then the Child stood next to Valens.

Black hair, unwashed and stringy, hung over its face. A rusted iron collar sat loosely round its neck with the chain welded to it. A grey smock, stained with sweat, hung to bony knees. It didn’t look as if it felt the cold. Chalk white arms showed veins as black tracks. Marduk glimpsed wide black eyes staring from beneath the ragged fringe and saw a deep red tongue, almost purple, lick pale lips. Behind those lips, sharp as needles teeth gleamed white.

‘We can’t take a girl with us,’ Colm said. He walked up and stood beside Marduk. ‘What foolishness is…’ His voice choked off when he saw the Child. It looked at him, face blank and predatory at the same time. Blood drained from his face.

‘What is it?’ Marduk said.  

‘Nothing,’ Colm said, suddenly angry. ‘I thought… nothing.’

‘It’s not a girl. Tell them, Valens.’

‘Marduk’s right,’ Valens said. ‘What you think you see is wrong. Don’t forget that. The Child is extremely dangerous. Your soul may depend on you keeping that in mind.’ Marduk noticed that for all his outward arrogance, Valens kept his distance from the Child.  

‘Dangerous is just a word,’ Colm snapped. ‘What is it?’ He stared hard at the Child and chewed on a thumbnail.  

‘Death,’ Marduk said. ‘The Keepers call them and shape them and bind them. They’re a tool, a lethal, disgusting tool.’ He ignored Valens’ glare.

‘We’re crossing Glorka province to get to the capitol. There, the Child will be better than any bloodhound. It has his scent. It will find our man. The Child…’ Marduk’s voice trailed off when he saw the black eyes focus on him. His hand trembled. He forced the words out. ‘It is death.’ He paused and exchanged a glance with Valens.

‘You were chosen because of your skills and experience. We will survive if we work together. If we don’t, I won’t carry your corpse back with me.’

Marduk let that sink in. Sol looked sober. Colm glanced at Inari, who scowled at him.

‘Good then,’ Marduk said, pulling out a map from the leather wallet. ‘Gather round.’  

The Child remained in place, idly scratching at its chest while staring at the floor. Marduk unfolded the map and spread it over a crate.  

‘We sail at high tide tonight. We’ll land here in three days and go overland to Waterford, where we’ll meet…’

                              

  

Marduk squinted at the drizzle. The salt tang of the sea had dissipated that morning. He looked back and saw the bright silver line marking the coast had vanished. He heard the sound of boots squelching in the mud and saw Colm trudge towards him, his scabbard slapping against his leg. Branches rattled, shivering in the bitter breeze.

‘Anything?’

Colm glared at him with murder in his eyes. His cheeks bulged over clenched jaws. ‘They reckon rebels lurk in the hills,’ he grunted. ‘Stripped them of what little they had and sent them running. Sheep.’ He spat in the mud and swore.

Marduk looked around the grey wilderness shrouding what remained of the village. They had arrived an hour ago, climbing steadily from the dunes until they reached a wide plain split by a sluggish, ice-choked river. Abandoned buildings stood along the road. The lack of people reinforced the oppressive emptiness.

Slow moving figures near a pile of bricks and shattered wood caught Marduk’s eye. One gestured to Marduk until another figure pulled them back.

‘Come on. Let’s go eat.’

Colm nodded. Turning, Marduk heard the wail of a baby echo across the wasteland. He flinched, but kept on.

Marduk heard the rattle of the chain before he entered the half-collapsed building. The slap of bare feet on dirt followed. The chain rattled again, louder this time. He felt gooseflesh sweep across his skin. Balling his fists, Marduk walked inside.

A fire burned in the centre of the open space, circled by shattered bricks. Acrid smoke collected beneath the low roof. Around the fire rested the others.

‘Colm says there are rebels operating across the ridge to the east,’ Marduk said, going over to a pot of bubbling porridge.

The chain rattled. Unwillingly, Marduk allowed his eyes to follow the links snaking into a darkened corner. The other end remained tethered to Valens’ wrist. From his place beside the fire, Valens looked at Marduk with hooded eyes.

‘We should set the Child onto the refugees. Bloody parasites.’ Colm said. Thin laughter echoed from the shadows. Marduk felt ice trickle down his spine and he turned furiously on Colm.  

‘It isn’t a dog, you bloody fool,’ he said, seething. More laughter from the shadows, loud and hysterical. Everyone turned to look at Valens, who watched with disdain.

‘This isn’t the theatre,’ Marduk snapped. ‘We’re not here to watch you put on a show. Bring that thing to heel.’

‘As you wish,’ Valens said, glancing around at the surroundings. The chain drew taut. Valens flinched and some of his arrogance faded. He grabbed the chain and pulled hard. More laughter drifted towards them, but softer this time.

‘Corporal?’

‘Sir?’

‘You’re on first watch.’

‘Sir.’

‘There’s a good soldier boy.’ Sol reddened at Inari’s words.

‘You’ve got last watch, Inari,’ Marduk said sharply. She scowled but said nothing. Wrapping her cloak tight, Inari rolled over and closed her eyes. Marduk beckoned to Sol and together they walked over to the doorway.

‘Take the lantern. Walk the perimeter every half hour. I doubt the refugees will bother us, but if they do wake me at once. Don’t be brave. The brave die first.’

                              


Marduk completed another circuit. The storm clouds had passed, leaving a heavy covering of snow and revealing a sky speckled with bitter stars. He glanced at them, shivered at the black gulfs and turned towards the shelter.

A noise made him to a stop. He cocked his head, strained to hear and finally made out words carried ethereally on the air. It was nonsense talk; a stream of babble that made his skin crawl. Resting his hand on his sword hilt, he eased inside the building. The dying embers turned the shadows bloody.

Sol snored quietly. He turned over, muttering. Inari was a shadow on the ground, her sword across her chest, hands clutching the hilt. Valens curled towards the fire, his face a valley of black and red. The chain ran from his wrist into the dark then back around to where the Child sat on its haunches beside a slumbering Colm, muttering into his ear.

Marduk froze. A horrible fascination gripped him. Colm’s face was white. He shuddered. His hands twitched like pale spiders on the hard packed ground.

Colm’s lips moved but no sounds emerged. Marduk fancied that Colm responded to the Child’s words. It was only when Colm began to moan that Marduk moved.

He strode across the open space, sword drawn in a ringing clang. Inari sat up, her eyes wide and sword clutched in one hand as she scrambled to her feet. Marduk kicked Valens on his way passed and the Keeper groggily woke. Two more strides and Marduk held the edge of his sword against the Child’s bare neck.

Its head craned around and Marduk heard clicking bones. Its eyes fixed on him and he thought for a horrified moment that he saw movement within. He swallowed. The Child smiled at him.

‘Back,’ Marduk said. He cleared his throat. ‘Get away from him.’ The Child smiled and placed a possessive hand on Colm’s shoulder.

At that point, Colm woke. Marduk saw the confusion and fright in his eyes. Then Colm saw the Child looming over him. He scrambled aside, boots scattering embers across the dirt. The Child giggled and its breath stank of the grave.

Valens roared. With a rush of wind that scattered the dying fire, his free hand lit incandescent blue and he struck the Child about the head with it. Sparks flew and the howling Child slunk away, its hair hanging in the dirt. Valens followed, striking it several more times, cursing it with each blow. Finally, the blue light faded and he staggered back to the dying fire.

No one spoke. Valens composed himself with an effort, the mask settling like a closing tomb door. He looked at Colm, seemingly indifferent to his fright.

‘Assuming you remember anything it said, ignore it. That goes for everyone. It speaks only to tempt you back to Hell with it.’

Marduk heard the defiance in his voice, but saw the fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Valens turned his back, laid on his bedroll and was asleep in moments.

Marduk went over to Colm.

‘You all right?’ Colm started at the sound of Marduk’s voice.  

‘I’m fine. Fine,’ he said, distracted. A look crossed his face, one that Marduk struggled to place. Colm returned to his bedroll. He wrapped himself in a blanket and sat staring at the fire.

Marduk stood. He exchanged a glance with Inari, who shrugged her shoulders and went back to her spot beside the fire. Marduk contemplated the chain lying on the floor. Then he realised the look that had passed across Colm’s face.

Recognition.

                              
 

They woke to find the Child sitting on Valens’ chest. Blood ran from its mouth. It looked at them with lazy, well-fed eyes. It smiled, revealing pieces of flesh clogging the gaps between its teeth. Sol vomited noisily.

‘Damnation,’ Colm said, reaching for his sword. The Child laughed. Marduk grabbed Colm’s arm.

‘Leave it. There’s nothing we can do.’

Valens’ blood steamed in the cold. Marduk noticed the startled look on the dead man’s face.

‘Inari?’ Marduk said. ‘Last watch was yours. What happened?’

Inari watched the Child uneasily. The Child smirked.

‘I slept,’ she said with frightened wonder. ‘Dreamed of summer, grassy fields and a warm breeze. Bees. I heard bees. Its doing,’ Inari said, tilting her chin at the Child. The Child delicately licked its fingers.

Sol returned to the tense circle. He wiped his mouth on the back of a trembling hand. His face was the colour of porridge.

‘You all right?’ Marduk asked. Looking anything but, Sol nodded.

‘We should kill it,’ Colm said.

‘We can’t,’ Marduk said. He circled Valens’ body, keeping his distance from the Child. Its head twisted on its neck like an owl. The end of the chain remained attached to the manacle around Valens’ out flung wrist.

Contemplating the chain, Marduk knelt and touched it.

Intense cold spiked into his forearm. Gasping, he gripped the chain with numb fingers. The Child stared at him with a smile playing on its lips.

‘What did you say?’ Marduk said. He rubbed his temple. The others looked at each other.

‘It said nothing,’ Colm said. He looked at the Child and fingered his hilt.

‘Never mind,’ Marduk said. Not trying to hide his trembling hand, he undid the pin holding the manacle in place. He paused and looked at the Child. It grinned at him. Gritting his teeth, Marduk roughly pulled the manacle free of Valens’ wrist and slipped his own in place. He closed it and pushed the pin home. He flexed his hand and felt the metal settle against his skin. An intimate warmth replaced the cold. The sensation filled him with horror.

‘Let’s pack up and go. We need to be at the ford before sunset.’

                              


Breaking camp, they left Valens’ body wrapped in his cloak. Clouds milled, leaching the colour from the air. Piles of brick and shattered wood marked buildings long raked over by scavengers. Fat snowflakes tumbled from a seething sky into rapidly growing drifts of white across the landscape.

‘Look at that,’ Sol said, his voice tight.

A gibbet creaked from a canted pole; its tattered contents slumped to one side. The snapped end of a leg bone jutted through a gap, fragments of skin fluttering in the frigid breeze. An upside down skull screamed silently at them.

The Child laughed. Marduk tugged on the chain, the rattle of the links muted in the cold.

‘Can’t you keep it quiet?’ Inari said, scowling. The Child turned its wide, solemn eyes on Inari until she looked away.

Marduk pulled on the chain and the Child led them on, its bare feet leaving a trail of brown slush in the pristine snow.

Near the edge of the village, a camp appeared. The remains of a fire smoked. Around it laid several cracked bones, the marrow sucked dry. Colm looked around and snorted.

‘Damned refugees bleed the country dry.’

‘The way I hear you tell it, you were a refugee yourself,’ Inari said, pulling her cloak tight. The hilt of her sword bulged against the fabric.

‘I was nothing like them,’ Colm shouted at her. ‘My family was nothing like…’ His voice choked and he turned away. ‘This was good land,’ he said after a moment. ‘Wheat and rye. Now look at it. Dead. Everything is dead.’ He stared at Inari, his face haunted. ‘Including my family.’

‘Enough,’ Marduk snapped. His head ached with cold and exhaustion and the scar across his shoulder burned. ‘What’s between us and the ford?’

Colm stared at him. His face was unreadable. ‘The track leads through a stretch of wood to the top of the ridge, then down into the valley and on to the ford.’

‘And there are rebels on the ridge?’

Colm nodded. ‘Rebels. Bandits. They’re all the same.’

‘No doubt,’ Marduk said. ‘We’re well armed and prepared. We might be lucky and not cross paths. What about the town itself?’

‘Waterford? I remember it being big when I was a lad. Haven’t been there for twenty years.’

‘It’ll be a ruin, that’s for sure,’ Inari said.

Nodding, Marduk looked around and saw that Sol had dismounted and stood over a bundle of rags lying on the ground.

‘Corporal? ’  

Sol looked up, stricken. Marduk swung from the saddle and walked over to him.

‘Nothing but bad memories here. Come on, we have to le–‘ The look on Sol’s face Marduk had seen countless times. Disbelief and dismay. He glanced at the rags.

They weren’t rags. Marduk grabbed Sol by the arm and pulled him away.

‘Not much glory, is there?’ Marduk said, not unkindly. The Child’s presence was a pressure on his mind. ‘Put it aside and don’t think about it.’

‘How do you do it, sir?’ Sol asked. ‘How do you cope with it all?’

‘One day at a time,’ Marduk growled. He gritted his teeth and tried to put the sight of the baby’s stiff blue arm from his mind.

He climbed into the saddle and waited for Sol. Then they pushed on.

                              


On the ridge as the night swooped, they came for them. Sol led the way, with Marduk stationed at the rear. Inari and Colm sat huddled in their cloaks, horses plodding along a trail swiftly vanishing beneath the falling snow. Bloody light from the setting sun filled their eyes. Snow swarmed through the twilight. The trees were black in the fading light, flat against the rusty sunset. Icicles shivered in the naked branches, their mournful clink an odd counterpoint to an eerie wind rising over the ridge a half mile ahead before it fell on them like a pack of wolves.

A flash of steel alerted Marduk. He cried a warning as he drew his sword and urged on his horse. The chain on his wrist clattered and he felt the briefest of tugs before it went slack again.

Startled, Sol looked back and saw Marduk wielding his sword. He drew his own as did Inari and Colm as half a dozen figures emerged out of the snow and charged at them.

‘Bandits,’ Colm shouted, his voice high and unsteady and excited. His horse reared and threw him into a deep bank of snow between two oaks. Freed of its burden, the horse bolted; a black streak that bowled over two of the bandits before it disappeared round a bend.

Exhilaration filled Marduk. Snow swirled around the clearing, rendering the edges of it soft and uncanny. The sunlight shifted, descended from red tinged with black, to black tinged with red. Shadows danced. He heard ringing steel and Inari chanting in a high-pitched howl. Wheeling his horse around, Marduk charged a bandit and chopped with his sword.

The vibration that shivered up his arm was almost ecstasy. Shouting, Marduk drove the bandit back. He had enough time to see how bedraggled the man was, his cheeks pinched with cold and hunger, clad in rags. Then Marduk’s sword bit deep into the flesh between neck and shoulder and the bandit fell shrieking.

Blood splashed across the churned snow. Marduk turned and prepared to cross the clearing when the weight of the chain on his wrist grew heavy. He fell backwards to the ground.

The world went silent. Dazed, Marduk lay in the snow. A shadow loomed on his right and he waited for the killing blow. To his surprise, the figure reached out and pulled him to his feet. Sol mouthed words. Marduk shook his head and Sol’s lips moved again.

‘-right, sir?’ he yelled. Marduk’s hearing returned, overwhelming him with the sounds of battle. Shaken, he nodded and looked around. The Child sat on a dying man’s chest, laughing into his face. The bandit opened his mouth to scream and the Child gently placed a hand over it. His eyes bulged then rolled back into his head. The Child turned to look over its shoulder at Marduk. His gorge rose at the sly look of delight in its eyes.

‘Watch out.’ Sol spun around and engaged a bandit. Barely beating back a frenzied attack, Marduk surged forward and forced the bandit on the defensive. He glimpsed Sol cut down his attacker and Inari leap back from a blow. Skidding as she landed, Inari fell to one knee and then launched herself at the bandit who strayed too close.

Parrying a low cut, Marduk focussed on the man in front of him. The bandit looked well-fed, his clothing, thought dirty and wet, of a decent cut. His face held a desperate fury, of a plan gone desperately awry.

‘Run,’ Marduk yelled at the bandit as he fended off a blow. ‘Your men are dying for nothing.’ The bandit hesitated, surprised, then pushed forward. He cut low then high, hoping to catch Marduk off guard. Marduk defended for a moment then peeled off a series of cuts that forced the bandit back, towards the tree line.

They stood off for a moment, Marduk panting, the adrenaline turning to bile in his mouth. His chained wrist tugged him back and he pulled hard on it. He saw the bandit follow the chain to the Child, then his eyes widened at what it was doing to the corpse it straddled.

‘Run,’ Marduk said, nearly begging this time. ‘Or you’ll be next.’ A heartbeat, then the bandit put his fingers to his lips and whistled.

‘Back,’ he yelled, moving towards the trees. The survivors looked up, hesitated, then joined him. In a moment, as the snow thickened, they vanished into the treeess, leaving silence to envelope the clearing.

‘Anyone hurt?’ Marduk said, doing his best to suppress the tremor in his voice. Ignoring the look Sol gave him, Marduk began to circle the clearing. The chain went taut. A sudden rage came over him and he turned and pulled, dragging the Child of the corpse’s chest and into the snow. It came up snarling and spitting blood from its red-rimmed mouth. But when it saw Marduk, it calmed instantly and sat on its haunches, blinking slowly.

Inari came up, wiping her sword clean on a piece of torn cloth.

‘Nothing wrong with me,’ she said. Her eyes were wide and she breathed in ragged, excited gasps. ‘Worry about him.’

Looking over her shoulder, Marduk saw Colm struggle to his feet. He stood, spluttering and wiped chunks of snow from his hair and clothes.

‘Blasted horse,’ he said, not looking anyone in the eye. ‘Where is the damned thing?’

‘Somewhere up the trail,’ Sol said, trying to suppress a smile. He shared a look with Inari, whose lips quirked, and then suddenly both were laughing.

‘You’ll not laugh at me,’ Colm snarled, drawing his sword. The shriek of metal rang in the chill air. The Child smiled, its eyes narrowing in anticipation. Colm marched up to Inari, his sword pointed at her heart.

‘Keep your mouth shut or you’ll get a taste of this.’

Inari stood her ground. Sol stepped in and batted Colm’s sword away.

‘My commander always said only draw your weapon if you mean to use it,’ Sol said. He levelled his sword at Colm.

Wallowing, Colm looked between Sol and Inari and then slammed his sword back into its scabbard. He looked around the clearing at the bodies.

‘There’ll be more of that scum soon enough.’

‘Move the bodies to the edge of the clearing,’ Marduk ordered. Sheathing his sword, Sol helped Inari drag a corpse off the trail.

Marduk walked over to the bandit he had killed. Blood from the deep, ragged wound in its neck had melted the snow into a crimson slush. Marduk grabbed the corpse under the shoulders and dragged it beside the other bodies.

He wiped his hands then gripped them together when one trembled. The chain jingled, the soft sound echoing across the clearing.

‘Come on,’ Marduk called, his voice harsh. ‘I want to get off this ridge.’ Little more than a hint on the horizon, the sun stained red the churning clouds. He climbed onto his horse.  

‘Get up,’ he said to Colm, extending his hand. ‘Let’s go find your horse.

Colm grunted and with Marduk’s help, swung up behind him. As he did, the wind swept in, bringing with it the sound of screaming.

A few hundred yards along, they found Colm’s horse. Foam covered its mouth and it panted heavily. Colm slid to the ground and began to swear, loudly and profanely. The horse’s right foreleg had broken, the cannon bone bulging against the skin. As Colm approached, the horse tried to stand and screamed again when its shattered leg flopped about.

For a moment, Marduk was back at Skalak’s Pass, the wind soughing between the peaks, men heaving and cursing and fighting. The stink of blood hung in the air and he saw horses, crammed in tight by the press of men, scream shrilly over the frantic struggles of the men.

Inari sat in the saddle, immune to the beast’s agony. Marduk dismounted and saw Sol had reached the horse first. Sol drew his dagger and held it against his side. He knelt and placed a hand on its neck, stroking the hide until the horse grew silent. He waited a moment, then quickly sliced the blade across its neck. Blood fountained across the snow, thick and black against the white. The horse shivered and fell back, a last streamer of steam escaping its slack mouth.

‘You should walk all the way to Glorka,’ Sol said to Colm, pointing with his dripping dagger. ‘Bloody fools like you deserve nothing less.’

Colm rode with Marduk until they made camp. He sat silently, huddled beside the fire, until it was his turn to stand watch.

                              
 

The next morning broke bright and cold. While Sol and Inari brushed and fed the horses, Marduk walked to a rocky outcrop and stared down into the valley.

‘Bad business last night,’ Colm said, coming up and standing beside him. Black smudges marked the skin under Colm’s eyes and his flesh hung loose on his skull. He held a steaming mug in one hand and handed another to Marduk who took it with a nod of thanks.

‘We got through it,’ Marduk said, taking a cautious sip. He nodded at the heat and flavour and swallowed another mouthful. He pointed into the valley.

‘How far is Waterford?’

‘A few hours,’ Colm said. He pointed to a grey smudge half way along the valley floor.

‘The ford is there. The town was larger when I was a lad. Before we fled, we heard rumours it had been overrun and burned.’

‘Any chance of trouble?’

‘I doubt it. No one trades here anymore. Bandits have moved on to richer pickings.’

Taking another sip, Marduk spent a few moments matching the landscape with the map he held in his head. He glanced at Colm.

‘When did you flee?’

‘Almost a year now,’ Colm said. His face had gone still.

‘Family?’

‘Lost them. The panic…’

The chain rattled. Colm started.

‘What did you see?’ Marduk whispered. A fresh chill stole across his skin. He resisted the urge to look behind, to follow where the chain led.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Before. Back at the port. When Valens came with the Child. You looked-‘

Colm swallowed. ‘Nothing. I saw nothing.’ A crimson flush drowned the pallor in Colm’s face.

‘Were you married?’

Colm nodded, his eyes distant. ‘Wife. Daughter.’

Marduk looked out over the valley again, then dashed the contents of his mug into the snow.

‘The world’s a shit hole,’ he said. ‘We break camp in five minutes.’

The Child followed Marduk back to the camp, while Colm stayed on the outcropping, gaze fixed on the view without seeing it.

                              
 

The ruins of Waterford stood black and stark against the snow. On either side of the road leading in, bare trees clawed the empty sky. A squat mill, its stone shattered and its conical bulk black with soot, stood beside the river. The windmill’s creaked in the freshening breeze, its ragged sails flapping uselessly.

‘What now, Captain?’ Sol asked. He gazed around the town with haunted look.

‘We wait,’ Marduk said, dismounting. Colm had already climbed down and stood beside the cloven millstone, staring at the river. Marduk secured his horse, then pointed to Inari.

‘You and Sol check the perimeter. If you see anyone or anything, I want to hear you before I see you running back here, is that clear?’

Inari flourished a mock salute and slid to the ground. She looped the reins over a piece of wood then joined Sol. Marduk saw how close they walked together and shook his head.

‘Trouble?’ Colm said.

‘Not if they keep their hands off each other.’

‘Thought you’d stop that sort of thing. Unnecessary distraction.’

‘More trouble that its worth. They’ll look out for each other, which means they’ll look out for us.’

Colm snorted and turned to the river.

‘My father had slaves. In his will, he wanted them freed. I sold them instead. Got my start that way.’

Before Marduk could respond, he heard a sharp whistle. He and Colm turned to see Inari jogging back, scabbard slapping her leg.

‘Boat,’ she said, slowing to a walk. ‘Sol’s giving him a hand tying up.’

The boatman stood on the bank. He scratched at the dirty yellow beard fringing his face. One of his eyes was a puckered crater, the other bulging out as he glared at the sky. A scrim of white hair poked out from under a rotting woollen cap. A patched tunic over worn leggings completed his disreputable look.

Beside him stood a boy, thin and pale, in clothes as good as rags.

‘Which one of you is Marduk?’ the boatman asked. ‘Couldn’t be you,’ he pointed to Inari, cackling. She folded her arms over her chest and scowled.

‘I am,’ Marduk said. ‘You’re Marat?’

‘Assuredly,’ Marat said. He had the dark cast of the local population and a thick accent that verged on the guttural. He looked curiously at the Child, then his eye widened and he hurriedly glanced away. Taking off his cap, he scratched at something in his flaking scalp, examined his nails and jammed the cap back on.

‘What about the boat?’ Marduk said.

Marat pointed to a craft bobbing alongside the blackened remains of a pier. It sat low in the water.

‘That will get us to the capitol?’

‘Nothing else will as fast.’ Marat’s mouth worked and he muttered to himself. ‘Of course, there’s no one else alive but me who can take you.’ His chuckle sounded like a mouthful of broken teeth grinding together. ‘Money up front,’ he said abruptly, as if the idea had just occurred to him. He held out a bony hand. Marduk took a jingling bag from his pack and tossed it to Marat, who plucked it from the air.

‘What about the horses?’ Inari said.

‘This scamp will take care of them.’ Marat paused pawing through the contents of the bag and laid a possessive hand on the boy’s shoulder. He flinched at the old man’s touch.

‘An ill fed boy?’ Inari’s eyes narrowed.

‘He’ll do,’ Marduk said, signing to Inari to be quiet.

‘She’s got a lip,’ Marat said. ‘Put the iron collar back on her. That shuts them up.’ Sol grabbed Inari by the elbow as she started towards Marat. She shook him off and stood glaring at the boatman.

‘What’s your name?’ Marduk asked the boy.

The boy looked uncertainly at the boatman.

‘He don’t have a name. Found him wandering lost a few months back. He’s a mouth to feed, but he’s been useful once or twice. Haven’t you?’ The boy nodded, clearly miserable.

‘Come on then,’ Marduk said. ‘I’ll show you the horses.’

‘He’s extra,’ Marat said.

‘Extra?’ Sol said. His eyes narrowed.

‘Five lodos. I have to feed him.’

‘Really? You feed him?’ Sol’s anger was evident.

‘Five lodos when we return,’ Marduk said, flashing a warning look at Sol. ‘And only if you get us back.’

Marat considered this for a long while, while the others waited impatiently. Finally, he nodded. ‘Go on,’ he said, pushing the boy forward. ‘You two,’ Marduk said, pointing to Sol and Colm. ‘Let’s get this gear stowed then we’ll find shelter for the horses.’

Out of sight, Marduk found the boy’s silence dragging on him. The Child walked on his left, with the boy on his right. Marduk wondered how strange all three of them might look to anyone coming down the street.

‘Do you remember your name, lad?’ Marduk asked as they came to the horses.

The boy nodded.

‘What is it?’ Colm said.

‘Luka.’

‘Well, Luka. Do you think you can look after our horses?’

Nodding, Luka reached out and touched Marduk’s horse, running his hand over its hide.

‘Colm, you stay with him. Sol and I will scout for shelter.’

‘What do you think?’ Sol said as they walked through the ruined village. They went passed a rotting corpse half buried under shattered wood and brick. Marduk had to tug on the chain to drag the Child away from inspecting it.

‘What do I think? We need to get to the capitol as soon as we can.’

‘I meant the boy.’

‘I know what you meant,’ Marduk snapped. He stopped before a shed. One side had collapsed, but the remaining walls and most of the roof was intact. He grunted, then nodded.

‘The sooner you learn we can’t fix everything wrong in the world the better.’ He rubbed his face, heard the bristles of his greying beard rasp. ‘This will do. The boy should be safe enough. Come on, let’s go back.’

Marduk lifted Luka onto the back of his horse, and the boy smiled for the first time since they had met. He handed him down once the horses were inside the shed and helped Sol hobble each.

‘You’ll be right, lad,’ Colm said. Colm pulled a stick of jerky from a wax paper pack and handed it to Luka. The boy, eyes wide in winder, took the meat and bit on it. Colm nodded, then placed the bundle on top of a pack sitting beside the boy. ‘Make sure you eat. The old bastard doesn’t care an inch about you,’ he said, gruff and suddenly embarrassed.

Marduk glanced at Sol and then knelt before the boy. ‘If Marat isn’t back in three days, take a horse and ride east. Do you understand?  You’ll find a village there. At least, that’s what the map says. Someone will take you in. Three days, all right?’ The boy, cheeks fat with food, nodded. As them men left, he waved to the Child. It ignored him.

Colm looked at Marduk as they walked back. ‘Any chance the old man won’t return in three days?’  

‘Stranger things have happened,’ Marduk said, fingering his dagger hilt and smiling sardonically. ‘The old bastard may just do the right thing and die.’

Back at boat, an impatient Inari had her back to Marat who stood mumbling to himself.

When Marat saw the men return, he looked querulously at them. ‘What have you done with him?’ He anxiously twisted the cap in his hands.

‘The boy’s well enough,’ Colm said. He heaved his pack into the boat, setting it to rocking back and forth. Ice clinging to the bank cracked and bobbed away.

‘Come now, Marat,’ Marduk said, clapping him on the back so hard the old man almost fell. ‘We’ve been promised a peasant boat trip. Let’s go.’

Marat started to speak when the chain rattled and the Child stepped from behind Marduk. The old man’s eyes widened and his sickly face drained to the colour of dough.

‘Yes, yes,’ Marat stammered. ‘In you get,’ he said, irritable and suddenly frightened. He climbed in and staggered to the stern where he gripped the tiller like a drowning man.

The others settled into the boat. The Child perched on the bow. Marduk cast off then settled beside Sol.

‘Feels like a Sunday row in the capitol,’ Marduk said, lifting an oar into place.

‘Really?’ Sol said.

Marduk squinted, remembered. ‘No. Let’s get started. The sooner we get there the less time we have to stomach Master Marat’s fine company.’


 

Chunks of ice thudded against the hull. Marduk felt the cold bite through the manacle at his wrist like an icicle thrust deep into the bone. The Child hummed quietly to itself. The others huddled along the length of the boat, the chain snaking between them like a glistening snake. Marduk shifted and tried to stretch his legs. Colm cursed when Marduk kicked him. The Child looked around, its eyes black and gleaming. Soot ran in black tracks down its face. Colm but his lip and subsided into a sullen glare. The Child turned back and resumed its humming.

Blackened trees loomed. Here and there, charred fence posts emerged from the dead weeds like crumbling teeth. Near a bend they saw the left bank choked with the burned, rotting corpses of dozens of cattle. Marduk watched Sol track the remains with wide, frightened eyes until they disappeared into the fog. Colm cursed again. The tension grew worse.

‘Not long now.’ Marduk glanced at Marat standing in the stern, hand braced on the tiller as the boat drifted down the central channel.

‘This used to be good land,’ Colm said, his voice an angry mutter. ‘Cattle. Sheep. Families grew rich here.’

‘Rich,’ Inari spat, sending ripples across the water.

‘That’s right. They worked hard, raised good families. All gone now. The land is a ruin.’

‘Built on the backs of slaves,’ Inari said. She looked ready to leap at him until Sol grabbed her shoulder. Her head snapped around. They exchanged a look, then she subsided and shrank into her cloak. A bitter wind blew across the river, sending the boat yawing towards the bank. Marat swore and struggled for a few moments until he straightened their course.

‘Did you hear that?’ Sol said, sitting straighter.  Marduk lifted a hand. A distant cry drifted over them. They heard a thunk and a whistling shriek, then a cracking sound, like a walnut under a hammer.

‘The siege,’ Marduk said. Hands drifted to weapons. The mist swirled and they saw a distant, roiling black column against the sky.

‘Like I said,’ Marat cackled. ‘Not long now.’

More signs of life emerged. Or at least, its wreckage. Piers loomed, burned and shattered. At one point, they passed under the gaping remains of a bridge. Cemented stones on either bank jutted out over the water for several paces. The central span lay broken-backed in the water. Corpses became more common. Tumbled bones in rotten rags littered either bank. Now and then a bloated, waxen corpse drifted by, hair swirling in the water, twisted features gaping at the sky.

The blare of trumpets transported Marduk back to Skalak Pass. Sleet fell sideways in the howling gale. A triple line of men roared and held the line and washed their spears in the blood of their enemies. He shook his head and clasped his shaking hands.

The thud of thousands of feet echoed across the water. Shouts and cries went up with the rattle of drums. A wooden clatter rang out and Sol looked up before glancing at Marduk who stared stonily ahead.

‘What is it?’ Inari said.

‘They’re storming the walls,’ Sol said, shaking his head. ‘They’ve lifted ladders into place.’

‘That’s good then,’ Colm said, looking eagerly into the mist. Then they heard the screaming start.

‘Frontal assaults on fixed positions should only occur after sappers have undermined the foundations of the walls,’ Marduk said. ‘That’s what the manual says. I’d like to strangle the officer who gave the orders. I doubt a sapper has been within a hundred miles of these walls.’

The screams were joined by the heavy thud, thud, thud of falling bodies. Distraught, Sol gripped the side of the boat until his knuckles turned white. Hesitant at first, Inari laid a hand on his shoulder.  

‘River’s taking us a little ways north,’ Marat said, as if he hadn’t heard the sounds of combat. To their rear, Marduk heard trumpets sound the retreat; the earlier joyful blare replaced by an insistent dirge that stirred yet more memories.

The mist deepened until they sank into a world of white. Visibility shrank to a few feet. Marat scanned the water with jerky movements of his head that reminded Marduk of a fearful bird.

The Child looked avidly into the mist. Water beaded its hair, creating a glittering fretwork.  There was a moment when Marduk saw a lost little girl, far, far from home. Then the rust stains on the iron collar seemed to darken and run red into its smock. The Child craned its head to look at him, at an angle that should’ve shattered the vertebrae like kindling.

Marduk’s throat grew unaccountably dry. He coughed and winced at the rasping sound. He unscrewed his canteen and swallowed a mouthful of tepid water. At the stern, Marat softly called out.

‘Here we go.’ The boat angled towards the left bank. The mist parted, revealing a weed choked side channel.

‘Get out the oars, boys,’ Marat said, his voice high and wheezing. ‘There’s no current here.’

Without a word, Sol and Colm slid the oars into the oarlocks. They entered the channel with a rustling sound.

‘Easy as you go,’ Marat said.

Sol and Colm rowed. The sounds of retreat faded and a thick silence settled. Uneasy, Marduk looked around. Vague, twisted shapes swam through the mist. A dim silver coin, masquerading as the sun, rode the sky. The diffuse light struck Marduk with a sudden fear that he would never see clean sunlight again. He caught the Child slyly looking at him and wondered if the chain that linked them was the only connection they shared. His skin crawled.

Inari huddled against the side of the boat. Her head jerked at every sound.

‘It’s the waiting that’s the worst,’ Marduk said, his voice low. Startled, Inari almost jumped out of her seat.

‘It’s not the waiting,’ Inari said, shaking her head. Her full lips thinned to a dark line and vertical groves appeared either side of her mouth. ‘This was where I was sold the first time. Slave market,’ she said, answering Marduk’s unspoken question. ‘Sold to someone like him,’ she said, tilting her chin at Colm, whose face went red. ‘I was twelve.’

‘Hush,’ Marat hissed. ‘Ship those oars. We’re here.’

A wall reared out of the mist. It stretched either side of the channel, moss and lichen clinging to the grey bulk. A narrow tunnel appeared, like a hole in a tooth. Rusted bars covered the entrance though Marduk saw several had broken off. He doubted the rest would resist for more than a minute or two.

‘Out you get,’ Marat said. He looked exhausted and unwell. Water dripped from his beard and the dark skin under his eyes hung loose.

‘That’s how we’re getting into the city?’ Colm said. ‘What are we, sewer rats?’

‘How deep is the water?’ Sol peered dubiously over the side. He flinched. Marduk saw something furry and dead bobbing along in the water.

‘No more than two or three feet. A hundred yards in there’s a set of iron rungs fixed to the wall. They lead to a room in an abandoned building.’ Marat coughed, the phlegmy sound rebounding from the tunnel mouth.

They gathered their gear. Marduk went in first, the stagnant water rising to his waist. Holding his sword over his head in one hand, he took his pack from Sol and waded to the bank where he rested it. The Child followed. The water stopped at its shoulders. It moved easily, like an eel in search of prey. Marduk watched Sol help Inari into the water, steadying the boat as she entered. Colm almost fell in, catching himself on the muddy bank with an outthrust hand.

Without ceremony, Marat used an oar to turn the boat. ‘Noon tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And the next day if you’re not here. After that…’

They watched the boat disappear into the mist.

‘What now?’ Inari said, looking at the bars.

‘That’s our way in,’ Marduk said. He pulled a small lamp from his pack. ‘Weapons only. Leave your gear behind.’ The others nodded.

While Marduk lit the lamp with a flint, the Child slipped between the bars. Water slapped quietly against the crumbling brickwork.

‘When we enter,’ Marduk said to Inari. ‘You’ll lead us to the Palace.’

‘I thought the Child could do it,’ Inari said.  

‘It can, but it will take the most direct route. I don’t fancy fighting every step of the way just because the Child prefers a straight line through street fighting.’ He ignored the idiot grin that spread across its face.

‘Once we get into the Palace, the Child will be our bloodhound.’

‘And when we find Roland?’ Sol asked. ‘What then?’

‘If he’s imprisoned, we free him,’ Marduk said.

‘And if he’s gone over to the rebels?’ Colm said.

Marduk shook his head. ‘One problem at a time.’ He ignored the look Inari shared with Sol. ‘Let’s get these bars sorted.’

Sol worked on the badly corroded bars. One snapped off in his hand while another bent enough for him and Colm to enter. Inside, the light was dim and the air thick and rank. Moss hanging from the ceiling gave off a faint light.

Marduk raised the lamp. Cockroaches, as long as a thumb, skittered away from the light and disappeared into cracks. Fists of nitre clung to the low ceiling.

‘Ready?’ Marduk said. The others nodded. The chain tugged at his wrist. Turning, Marduk followed it into the gloom.

Every few yards the chain snagged on the bottom of the tunnel, forcing Marduk to stop and work it free. He glanced over his shoulder at one point and saw the tunnel mouth had receded to a bright pinpoint of light.  

‘How far?’ Colm muttered, looking fearfully at the low ceiling. Sweat beaded on his scalp and he had look of a frightened animal.

‘Relax,’ Sol said. Colm ignored him. Marduk saw his eyes drift to the chain. He knew exactly what the man was thinking.

Squeals ripped through the air. A sleek rat perched on a shattered brick. Its black fur bristled and sharp, yellow teeth flashed. Red eyes glared at them.

Colm gagged. A flash and the rat convulsed and fell dead. Inari appeared out of the gloom and pulled her dagger free of the bleeding corpse.

‘I don’t agree with him much, but rats are disgusting.’ She cleaned the blade and slid it back into her belt.  

Marduk held up his hand. The others stopped.

‘What is it?’ Inari whispered. She peered at the ceiling and saw a trickle of dust begin to fall. ‘I thought I heard-‘

Vibrations rippled the bricks, making them pop and crack. Dust fell, turning the water muddy. A rat jumped from brick to brick, chirruping loudly before it disappeared into a hole.

‘What the hell was that?’ Colm said, looking terrified. The vibrations stopped. They looked at each other, then at the ceiling.

The tunnel convulsed, sending them reeling against the walls. Bricks shattered with a sound like breaking bones. A black wave of rats swam amongst them towards the distant light.

‘Back,’ Marduk shouted. ‘The walls coll-‘

A giant fist smashed into the tunnel. A titanic roar of collapsing stone and earth swallowed the world. Marduk fell, the weight of the chain dragging him under the water. He fought to regain his footing. When he did, he surged from the water, gasping for air.  

‘Sol! Inari! Answer me, damn it. Colm?’

As the dust cleared, Marduk saw the others pressed against a wall, lit by a shaft of light. Colm looked dazed, his eyes locked on something in the depths of the tunnel. Sol cradled Inari, who bled from a cut above her ear.

Marduk made to move towards then when the chain at his wrist brought him up short. Annoyed, he tugged at it then realised the far end had snagged. Cursing, he followed the links until he came to a mound of dirt and shattered rock.

‘Where is she?’ Colm yelled, coughing up a thick wad of muddy phlegm. ‘Where’s Daria?’

Heaving on the chain, Marduk pulled a few feet free before it caught. Light lit the Child’s arm and leg emerging from a pile of shattered stone and earth.

‘You bastard,’ Colm shouted at Marduk. ‘You’ve killed her.’ He came at Marduk, fist pulled back. Marduk grabbed Colm by the wrist and throat and forced him against the wall.

‘Get a grip you bloody fool.’

‘You’ve killed her,’ Colm sobbed. ‘You’ve killed her.’

‘That’s not your daughter,’ Marduk hissed. ‘Listen. It isn’t Daria. It’s a thing. Daria is dead. Your daughter is dead.’

The strength ran out of Colm. He slumped against the wall and wept. Marduk let go, aware of the manacle digging into his flesh. He looked at Colm who stared with wet eyes for a long moment before lunging at the mound. Frantic, he sent clots of dirt and brick flying. Marduk watched for a moment, then signalled to Sol.

Sol left Inari leaning against the wall with a rag pressed against her head. Together he and Marduk helped Colm dig into the mound, unearthing the Child.  

Colm stood over the body, his eyes unreadable. Marduk thought the Child’s face peaceful, drained of its habitual slyness.

‘Is she…is it dead?’ Sol asked.

Before Marduk answered, the Child’s eyes snapped open. For the briefest moment, something terribly lost and alone lurked in their black orbits. As quickly, its gaze hardened and turned blank. The Child sat. Cracked bones realigned with muffled pops. Colm took several steps back, his face white as curdled milk. The Child shook itself, rested on its haunches, and regarded them with unblinking eyes.

‘What happened?’ Inari said, joining hem. She peered at the light, wincing as she dabbed at her cut. The bleeding had stopped, but Marduk noted her unfocussed eyes.

‘Wall breach. Catapults, maybe. Or grappling hooks. That charge may’ve been a diversion while they brought down the wall. Whatever it was, this is the result.’ Marduk looked up the steep incline towards the light and tried to ignore the uncomfortably close presence of the Child. A brick toppled and bounced towards them.  

‘There’s no time to dig through that. We’ll have to climb up to the street.’

The others nodded. Inari swayed. Sol put an arm around her waist. She tried to shrug him off, but he murmured something to her. She nodded and leaned against him.

‘Colm. Colm?’

Colm looked groggily at Marduk. ‘Yeah?’

‘Are you all right?’

Colm nodded.  

‘Can I rely on you?’

‘What are you talking about? Of course you can.’ Something of his old bluster returned. Marduk exchanged a look with Sol, who shrugged.

‘Good. I’ll go first, then you and Sol will help Inari. Wait for my signal before you come.’

Marduk scrambled up the steep mound which shifted with each step. Bricks clattered into the water. The Child kept up, nimble hands and feet finding holds. Finally, he reached the top of the mound, beneath a ragged lip. Head down, Marduk listened.

Scuffling. A woman screamed. Men laughed. Grim-faced, Marduk waited. The screams died to whimpers; the laughter to eager grunts. After a few minutes, the men moved. Marduk straightened and his head and shoulders emerged from the hole.

Large blocks of shattered stone lay in a heap extending for fifty yards either side. Arms and legs stuck out at odd angles. Blood squeezed between the stones and dribbled onto the cobbled ground.

An open door across the rubble-strewn street beckoned. Heaving himself out, Marduk scrambled to his feet. He heard shouting at the far end of the street. A squad of men in familiar uniforms ran across the gap, whooping and yelling. He heard more screams, more laughter. Gritting his teeth, Marduk turned and signalled to Sol. Then he ran across the street and entered the doorway.

The hot, coppery smell of blood struck him. Gagging, Marduk drew his sword and edged through a room filled with shattered furniture into a short corridor. Beyond laid a room at the rear. Inside, he saw a man, a woman and boy slumped against a wall. Their slashed throats hung open to the bone.

A cold breeze swept through the room. For a moment, Marduk wondered about their lives under the Imperial siege, promised protection but given none. Squeezing his trembling hand into a fist he returned to the front room.

The shouting faded. Looking across the street Marduk saw the collapsed remains of the wall. A body, an arrow jutting from its throat, lay atop the rubble. A crow landed on its chest. It strutted in a circle and then pecked at the corpse’s face.

Whistling low, Marduk signalled Colm who climbed out and staggered across the street. His dazed look troubled Marduk.

‘Get in,’ Marduk said when Colm reached him. ‘And stay out of the back room.’ Colm nodded and Marduk watched him settle against a wall, his gaze distant.

Marduk readied himself to signal Sol when he heard the tramp of approaching men. He shrank back into the doorway.

‘There’s resistance at the palace.’

‘Another siege? We just got away with this one.’

‘At least Janos will be happy. He pushed hard for this.’

‘And the men? Should we concentrate our forces?’

‘Not yet. Janos was explicit. Maintain a token force around the palace and let the rest of the lads off the leash. After a few hours, we move in. He wants to send a message to the locals that rebelling again isn’t worth the candle.’

The men walked out of earshot. Marduk, his mouth a grim line, glanced towards the backroom.

‘Janos? What’s that bastard doing here?’ He felt a sick rage grow. The he realised he could see the Child.  

Frantic, he looked around and saw the chain snaking through the broken furniture to the rear. Signalling Sol to cross with Inari, Marduk turned and followed the chain.

The Child squatted in front of the dead boy, its head cocked to one side. A fall of greasy hair hid its face. Marduk watched it reach out to touch the boy’s face, just as Sol and Inari arrived. The Child snatched its hand back and turned to Marduk. Confusion gave way to slyness. Marduk swallowed and left.

In the front room, Marduk went over Inari who crouched beside a wall.  

‘Focus on my finger,’ Marduk said. Inari lifted her head and squinted as he moved his hand from left to right.

‘Congratulations. You’ve a mild concussion,’ Marduk. ‘If you want to vomit, and you probably will, make sure it’s not anywhere near me.’ He tore a strip from his shirt and handed it to Inari.

‘Best I can offer. Keep that pressed to the cut until it stops bleeding.’  

He looked up at Sol. ‘Stop hovering like a love-sick puppy, Sol,’ Marduk said. Inari’s eyes widened, then her grin broadened.

Sol reddened. Marduk shook his head. ‘Easy. Men can laugh about these things.’

Sol smiled briefly then went to the doorway.

‘Why don’t we join the others?’ Sol asked, looking into the street.

‘Politics, mostly.’ Marduk said. ‘War is better without politicians constantly interfering. If D’ath is a traitor, he’s an embarrassment to the Imperator. We get him out and the high ups can deal with him. If he’s a captive, freeing him makes him a hero, and the Imperator needs a hero on the Council. If we leave him to the regular soldiers, he’ll be just another corpse on a pile that’s getting bigger by the hour. And we’ll get the blame.’

Sol looked unhappy. ‘So we’re on our own?’

‘That’s right,’ Marduk said, rising to his feet and stretching his back.

‘If we have to fight our own men…’

‘Wake up, Sol,’ Inari said. Her familiar alertness had almost returned. ‘I saw the world from a slave pen. Life isn’t what you hope, but only what it is.’

‘Where’s Colm?’ Marduk said, looking around. The chain shifted and they heard Colm sob.

Marduk reached him first. The corpses were still where they sat, twisted and grotesque. The Child still crouched in front of them. Colm knelt nearby, one hand stretched towards the Child. A mad, desperate hope filled his face.

‘Colm, come back.’ Marduk kept his voice as calm as possible. He saw the Child’s eyes flick towards him then back to Colm. That gaze, that black, empty, cunning gaze sent a spike of fear through Marduk.

‘Please. Colm.’

Marduk saw Child’s lips twitch. Was it amusement, he wondered later. If so, who had amused it?

‘Daria? Oh God, Daria.’

The slyness dropped from the Child’s face, revealing terror and fear and love and hope. It called to Colm.

‘Daddy!’

The words struck Colm like a thunderbolt. He sagged to both knees, his mouth working soundlessly. Trembling, Colm lifted his arms to embrace the Child.

‘Colm, no!’ Paralysed, Marduk watched as a look of triumph emerged on the Child’s face, the change as seamless as the shift from day into night. It leaped towards Colm, swift and sure and hungry. Before Marduk could draw his sword, the Child buried its mouth into Colm’s throat.

Colm’s mouth dropped open and never closed again. His body shivered. The Child nuzzled him, an obscene parody of a daughter’s kiss. A thick stream of heart’s blood spilled over his lips and fell into the raddled mess of the Child’s hair. Then, with an awful ripping sound, the Child staggered back, cartilage and flesh hanging from its ruin of a mouth.

Inari vomited, a hacking cough mixed with a ragged sob. Sol drew his sword and moved to attack. Marduk stepped in and pushed him back.

‘Don’t,’ Marduk said. Rage swept through, gone as soon as it erupted, leaving him with a desolate weariness.

Beads of sweat stood on Sol’s shocked face. ‘We have to kill it.’

‘We can’t.’ Marduk shook his head. ‘Even though it damns us, we still need it.’

‘It’s killed two of us,’ Sol shouted. ‘How can we trust it not to kill us all?’

‘We don’t have a choice,’ Marduk said, refusing to look at Sol. ‘Without the Child, we can’t complete our mission.’

‘Damn our mission,’ Sol said, pointing his sword at Marduk.

‘Go then,’ Marduk said. ‘If it’s all too much, go. Marat will be waiting. Take Inari with you. Go.’ 

Sol’s eyes flicked to Inari, who wiped her mouth clean. She shook her head.  

‘Damn you,’ Sol said, sheathing his sword. ‘Damn you and your mission.’ He went back to the front room where he stood in the doorway, jaw clenched.

The Child giggled. Its face and hair were thick with blood. It smiled at Marduk then pulled a chunk of flesh from Colm’s ruined neck. Marduk felt something slip deep inside him. His vision went black. When he regained control, Marduk found he had looped the chain around the Child’s neck and had pulled it tight.

‘You’ve never fooled me,’ he hissed, nearly gagging on the Child’s carrion stink. ‘You played on a father’s grief, but you don’t fool me.’ He raised his hand, displaying the links welded to the manacle.

‘I know about the chain. It’s not just a leash. Each linked sanctified with blood to keep you in check. At least a little.’ Marduk wiped away the sweat dripping into his eyes.  

‘So when I do this,’ Marduk said, gripping the slack and tightening the chain. ‘It hurts.’ The Child’s face went black and its hands scrabbled at the links biting deep into its throat. Black eyes bulged and rolled back in its head.

As if from deep underwater, Marduk heard shouting.  The words were distorted, distant. A fist struck him. Inari loomed in front of him, mouthing working silently. He shook his head, and the fugue cleared. He saw the Child slumped over, blood tinged drool hanging from its slack mouth. Marduk loosened the chain and let the Child fall to the floor.

‘Not all the Keeper’s lore is secret.’ He leant over and stabbed a blunt finger into the Child’s forehead. It felt like poking a mountain. ‘There’s intelligence in there,’ he said. ‘So you understand I know how to make your existence a hell on Earth. As much as you disgust me, I’ll keep you alive as long as you’re useful. That–‘ and here he pointed to Colm’s corpse-‘cannot happen again.’

The Child’s eyes hardened into diamond points of malice. Marduk matched it until the Child nodded. He dropped the chain in a rattling pile between them. ‘Let’s go,’ he said to Inari.

‘Is Sol right?’ Inari said, her voice low. ‘That thing just slaughtered Colm. How can we go on?

‘We’re at war,’ Marduk said. His voice sounded distant to him. ‘You get the same offer I gave Sol. The boat is waiting. Go if you want. If you do, you’ll miss your only chance to make the people who made you a slave pay. The rebel leadership are men thrown off their plantations when the Empire came. Men who bought and sold you. Will you give up that chance?’

‘Who are you?’ Inari asked, horrified.

‘I’m Marduk. I held the line at Skalak’s Pass while everyone else died or ran. Are you going to run? Are you?’ he said, pointing at Sol. ‘It’s been easy until now,’ Marduk said. ‘A little gallop on horseback, some swordplay and a soft ride in a boat. Not anymore. It’s death out there. Two men at each other’s throats with knives in a dark alley while the world burns. Don’t you understand? You either cut and run, or stay and win. There is no other choice.’


 

The afternoon sun guttered towards night. The sky flamed one last time and fell into bloody rust. Mist filled the street. Doorways yawned open. Buildings burned, sending gouts of smoke billowing into the sky. Corpses hung out of windows and littered the streets, heads broken or throats slashed wide and bloody. Screams filled the night.

Inari led the way, ghosting ahead through shadows that deepened into black clots. The road from the shattered wall swiftly narrowed, then split, then split again until they were deep into a warren of streets filled with stinking refuse and chokepoints that made it impossible to turn and retreat.

‘Look at this,’ Sol said. His gaze was haunted. Bloody, broken bodies lay strewn across the alley. Blood puddled in the gutters. Dead faces stared at them.

‘It’s war,’ Marduk said. He tugged on the chain bringing the Child to heel. ‘Move.’

Inari took them deeper into the city. Chaos. Soldiers stumbled drunk from ruined taverns; women screamed as men shouted and laughed. Marduk saw a child, thumb in its mouth, standing in a doorway. Blood flecked its face.

Inari hissed and held up a hand. They paused in shadows inside an entrance to a high walled courtyard.

‘What do you see?’ Marduk whispered. Inari inclined her head towards a group of men lounging around a burbling fountain.

‘Imperials,’ Inari said. ‘Rebels.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s too dark to tell.’ Her eyes had a peculiar gleam in the faded light. Her hand clinched the hilt of her sword.

‘Rebels, I think. Probably given up and having fun on their way out.’ Marduk said. ‘I count…five?’

Inari nodded. She licked her lips.

‘Is there another way?’

Shaking her head, Inari indicated the alley on the far side. ‘That way saves us time. Going back and around means we might miss our chance at D’ath.’

Gritting his teeth, Marduk drew his sword and signed to Sol to do the same. They waited a moment and heard snatches of drunken singing. He touched Inari’s shoulder.

‘Go,’ he said.

Running into the courtyard, Inari cried out, an ululating wail that raised the hair on Marduk’s arms.

Sprawled on the cobbles and sharing a jack of wine, the soldiers didn’t react for a few heartbeats before they reached for their weapons. One struggled to his feet only for Inari to cut him down. He fell, screaming, trying to hold together the bloody ruins of his face.

‘Come on,’ Marduk roared. Loosening the chain with a flick of his wrist, he ran into the courtyard and engaged the first soldier unlucky enough to be in his way.

Anger replaced surprise in the rebel’s face. He ducked, spun around and pulled out his sword in the same motion. He turned the impetus into a savage cut at Marduk’s face. Swaying back, Marduk felt the wind of the blade across his eyes. He cut high, stepped back and stabbed low and turned his wrist in a wrenching motion.

Mouth a black hollow in a face gone white, the soldier dropped his sword and clutched at his spilling guts. He slipped in his blood, fell to his knees then tumbled backwards when Marduk cut his throat. Panting, Marduk spun around.

Dead soldiers littered the ground. Inari and Sol leaned over corpses. Sol wiped his sword clean, checked it nicks in the remaining light, then slid it home. Inari glared around the courtyard and Marduk thought she looked disappointed.

‘How does it feel?’ Marduk said. Spite crept into his voice and he shook his head in disgust at himself. The fountain’s burbling sounded obscene.

‘You said it yourself. This is war. They taught me to kill, to fight in the pit for their amusement until I died. They stole my life.’ Inari kicked a corpse and spat on it. ‘Who’s dead now, dogs?’

The Child, perched on the edge of the fountain, clapped its hands. The light had fled and glittering stars took its place. Marduk thought he saw tiny pinpricks of ice shining in the vast black gulfs of the Child’s eyes. He pulled the chain and it jumped to the ground.

Shouts punctured the night. They heard men approaching from two directions.

‘Enough. We’re running out of time.’ With the jangle of the chain, they jogged across the courtyard into the alley and disappeared into the dark.

                              
 

They paused at an intersection. The city burned. Sparks spiralled into the orange-tinged air. Smoke hung low and frightened people streamed passed, faces black with soot. Inari, Marduk thought sourly, was enjoying herself at the sight.

‘How close now?’ Marduk said.

‘Five, ten minutes,’ Inari said, nodding to the far side of the intersection. ‘Except there’s an army between us and the palace.’

Marduk rubbed his face. He heard the clink of the chain and looked back. The Child sat on its haunches and examined something that squirmed in its hands. A mouse. It popped the creature into its mouth. Too tired to feel disgusted, Marduk pointed to a street that ran between two tall buildings.

‘If we can’t go through, we’ll go over.

They crossed the intersection. The fighting had passed as had the stream of fleeing civilians. They entered the street Marduk had indicated. It ran narrowly between two long buildings that rose high overhead.  

The roar of a crowd from the far end reached them, a many-headed beast hungry for war. Bonfires cast lurid light across the palace walls.

‘Stay here,’ Inari said. She ran off before Marduk could stop her.

‘Damn it,’ Marduk said. He looked at Sol, who stood watching the Child toy with another mouse.

‘You all right?’

‘Bit of a balls up,’ Sol said. He stood with his back to the wall. Flames bled scarlet over his lean features. Marduk saw him favour his injured leg.

‘He was just lucky.  How are you with it?’

‘I’ll be fine. I should’ve kept a better eye out.’

Marduk shook his head. ‘You were luckier. Street fighting is bloody hard.’

Footsteps. Inari resolved from the shadows and scowled at the swords pointed at her.

‘What did you see?’ Marduk said.

‘There’s a mob of soldiers blocking the entrance to the palace grounds. They’re tired and dirty and eager for blood. The rebels have barricaded the palace’s inner gates and have archers stationed in the windows. They’re ready for a fight. Unless we want to get ground up like meat between them, we’ll need another way in.’

‘There is.’ Marduk indicated an open door. ‘We take the stairs to the roof.’

The quiet building appeared to be government offices. Papers were scattered everywhere and desks and chairs pushed aside. Marduk expected armed men to emerge from the shadows and attack, but they met no one on the way.

Emerging through a narrow door, the group found themselves standing in a gutter that ran between two peaked slate roofs. With the Child at his heels, Marduk led the others to the edge of the roof.

Six feet of empty air separated them from the building on the other side of the alley.

‘You’re joking,’ Inari said, staring into the three-storey gap.

‘You just see how funny I am,’ Marduk said. He rattled the chain, snagging the Child’s attention.

‘You and me, together,’ he said. Marduk took several steps back as the others made room. Without waiting, he ran.

The chain rattled as Marduk leaped. He arced across the gap, arms and legs pin-wheeling. Then he crashed and rolled across the roof, rising to his feet in time to see the Child make the jump.

Its body had a terrible grace; arms and legs flung back, head up and mouth open. It landed on its feet, bounded a few steps and halted.

After he signalled to Sol, Marduk backed up to make space. Despite his injury, Sol managed the leap without trouble. He landed with a grunt, waving off Marduk’s help. He nodded his thanks then turned to wait for Inari.

She didn’t want to do it.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Marduk said. He shouted over the background roar of the crowd. ‘The great huntress is afraid of heights.’

‘Come over here and say it,’ she yelled, looking at the gap at her feet.

‘How about you come over here so I can say it to your face,’ Marduk said.

Inari glared at him for a moment then stalked back. She sized up the distance to the edge of the roof and began to run. It was only when she was in the air that Marduk realised her eyes were tightly shut. Sol caught her as she landed. Inari shrugged him and turned her angry gaze on Marduk.

‘Don’t waste your anger on me,’ he said. ‘These buildings form the edge of the inner square the palace sits within. There’s an annex at the rear we can reach by moving from rooftop to rooftop. A few more jumps unless you want us to venture through her meat grinder below?’


 

‘Look at all those people,’ Sol said, leaning against the wall and gazing down.

 A sea of people occupied the palace’s inner grounds. Light flickered from bonfires scattered through the ruins of the garden. Craters were all that remained of uprooted oaks and maples, reduced to kindling to feed the many fires dotting the churned remains of once rolling lawns. Makeshift tents, little more than broken saplings and rotting blankets gave meagre shelter for the thousands crammed into the space.

‘Where are they going?’ Inari said, pointing to a line of men marching away.

‘Wherever it is, I don’t like it,’ Marduk said. ‘Why pen all these people and then leave?’ He looked at the others. ‘We have to get inside.’

‘There,’ Sol said, pointing to the peaked roof of a skylight. Marduk had to tug the Child to bring it to heel; it lingered by the parapet staring at the refugees.

The skylight looked onto sheet-covered furniture. It seemed to Marduk like a room full of ghosts.

‘This is our way in,’ Marduk said.

‘What about patrols?’ Sol said.

‘The rebels are pulling out. We can use the confusion to our advantage.’

They heard shouts, then the clatter of bricks and collapsing timber.

‘They’re forcing the main barricade,’ Sol said. Marduk nodded.

‘We have to go.’

They made short work of the skylight. Glass fell into the room, covering the sheets in a glittering rain.

With the others holding the chain, Marduk descended hand over hand. He cleared space, then waited as Inari descended. Sol came next, wincing when he reached the ground. They looked up at the Child staring at them.

Marduk held up his arms, feeling foolish. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Jump.’

Smiling, the Child leaped onto the edge of the skylight. It ignored the remaining glass that cut its bare feet. It waited a moment, then fell.

Marduk caught it neatly in his arms. He looked into its eyes, saw something black squirming within and hastily let it down. Nodding to the others, he led the way into the corridor.

                              
 

Marduk knelt in front of the Child. The sound of booted feet approached. Sol and Inari stood on either side, swords drawn, talking urgently. Marduk ignored them and instead spoke to the Child.

‘I know what you can do. Merge, isn’t that what the Keepers call it?’

The Child nodded, solemn as a monk at prayer.

‘Do it. Before they come.’

A dozen men crashed through a set of doors at the far end of the corridor. ‘Drop your weapons,’ one ordered.

‘What do we do?’ Sol shouted.   

‘We surrender,’ Marduk said, ignoring Sol’s startled look. Marduk stood and raised his hands.

‘We’re here to kill Roland,’ Marduk said cheerily. ‘I expect he’ll want to speak with us.’

‘Drop those weapons,’ the leading soldier yelled again. Marduk complied. Sol did the same. Cursing, Inari followed suit. The soldiers swarmed and pushed them down the corridor.

‘Move it!’

Amidst the confusion, Marduk glanced quickly over his shoulder and glimpsed the Child standing in the middle of the armed men. They ignored her, and soon she vanished from sight. The chain felt lighter. But it was the weight of the dagger strapped to his inner wrist that grew heavier with each step.

                              
 

The palace was in uproar. People filled the corridors and spilled into rooms. Looting spread through the building. For a moment, the men taking Marduk, Sol and Inari paused by a large window which looked out over the inner square. Fighting had broken out. Men moved in and out of the dancing shadows cast by bonfires, a struggling sea that rolled through the refugee camp, sending civilians fleeing into the night. Already hundreds lay dead.

‘Bring them in,’ someone shouted from in front of a set of doors crowded with people. The escort pushed and shoved until it cleared a space for their captives. Ignoring the scowls and suspicious glares, Marduk led the others through the doors and into a small room dominated by a long table.

A broad-shouldered man sat at the head of the table . A dozen other heavily armed men flanked him. Several wore blood soaked bandages.

The man at the head of the table looked up when Marduk and the others entered. He rose from his seat, a smile spreading across his lean face.

‘Can it be?’ he said. ‘Marduk? In God’s name, it truly is.’

Before anyone could react, he stepped forward and folded Marduk in a bear hug.

‘The hero of Skalak’s Pass,’ he said. ‘I was there when the Imperator pinned a medal on your chest. What a day that was.’ His smile faded. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I was here to rescue you, but it seems that option isn’t available anymore,’ Marduk said, looking at the men crowded in the room.  

‘We found them in the east wing, Commander,’ a soldier said.

‘You’re not here to burgle me, are you Marduk?’

‘I’m here on business, Roland,’ Marduk said. ‘Just business.’

Roland’s harsh laugh raised Marduk’s hackles. His hand started to tremble.

‘Business, is it? That old bastard Blevins sent you after me, didn’t he?’ Roland clapped his hands together in mocking applause.

‘That depends,’ Marduk said.

‘On what?’

‘If you come quietly, there won’t be any need for bloodshed.’ The weight of the dagger dragged at him.  

Roland’s laughter boomed again. The other men around the table chuckled, and the tension eased.

‘Come quietly? Hardly. You cannot shake an empire to its very foundations and do it quietly.’

‘Why? Why betray your Imperator? Why betray your people?’

‘He talks of betrayal,’ Roland said, shaking his head and getting more chuckles from the men seated at the table. ‘This from a man sent here to die. A hero of the Empire, cast aside on a suicide mission.  You will die here tonight. The Imperator gave up the gains you shed blood for at Skalak’s Pass, now he has tossed you on the dung heap. My men and I are ready to leave, but we will make sure the rats feast well tonight.

‘Fine words,’ Marduk said. ‘Stop hiding behind them and answer me; why did you betray your people?’

‘They betrayed us, Marduk,’ Roland yelled, his smile melting away to reveal the rage beneath. ‘They betrayed me.’ Spots of red rode his cheekbones and spittle flecked his lips. ‘You don’t know it, but I was at Skalak too. You got the medal but I spilled just as much of my blood as you did. I saw my friends die just as your friends died.’ He stopped, breathing heavily. Some of the other men around the table glanced uneasily at each other.

‘We held the Pass for them and they bargained it away,’ Roland whispered. His voice hardened. ‘They should kneel before us.’

‘I have a job,’ Marduk said.

‘You have a job,’ Roland sneered. ‘Listen to yourself. Time was you had a spine. Spine and spirit. All I see before me is a husk.’

‘And all I see before me is murdering scum,’ Inari said hotly.

Roland looked at her and smirked.

‘You’re nothing but a slave. Born to the yoke. When did your people ever lift a finger for their freedom?’

‘Have a care,’ Sol said.

Roland laughed. ‘Come now, Marduk. Don’t tell me your crack team is a lovelorn couple? Where are your hard men?’

‘No man speaks for me,’ Inari said. ‘What are you doing with all those people outside?’

‘Cattle,’ Roland said dismissively. ‘The dregs of the city. The poor, homeless, slaves. Fortunately, I have found a use for them.’

‘What?’ Marduk said.  

‘Just as a dying fire needs fresh fuel to let it roar again, so a cause needs its martyrs. The rebellion has suffered setbacks. It needs to find fresh life. The massacre of innocents is reason enough for the entire province to rebel again.’

‘With you at its head?’ Marduk said

‘Of course. All those dead children, all those raped mothers, all those brave fathers senselessly butchered by Imperial soldiers. I would be negligent to scorn such an opportunity.’

‘And with you at its head, you’ll march on the Imperial capital and assume the throne?’

‘You think I jest. I see it in your face. You never dreamed higher than the next battle, the next tavern. My father had friends on the Council, men who thought as he did. Who think as I do. The Imperial dynasty is weak, degenerate. The rebellion will go badly for the Imperator. The Treasury will bleed dry. Mothers will march on the palace demanding their sons come home. The Imperator will order their execution. Amid the unrest, we will strike. Our allies on the Council will rise with us. Childishly simple.’

‘And my people? Why kill them? Arm them, and they will fight for you.’ Inari’s breath came in short, frantic gasps.  

Roland looked curiously at Inari. ‘They’re more use dead than alive.’ He laughed again.

Catching her captors off guard, Inari broke free of the men holding her and flung herself at Roland, tearing at his face with her hands. They struggled together and then Roland had her by the throat.

A forest of swords rose, penning Sol, who struggled against the men holding him.  

Roland smiled and squeezed Inari’s throat tight. Her eyes bulged and she gasped for breath.

‘You mean nothing to me,’ Roland hissed, spittle flecking her face. Blood leaked from a gouge beneath his right eye. Her struggles became weaker, but still she flailed at him. He smirked, then drew a knife.

‘No!’ Sol cried. He threw himself forward and a soldier clubbed him to the ground where he lay groaning.

‘She doesn’t deserve this,’ Marduk said. ‘Let her go.’

‘What, this?’ Roland rammed the dagger into Inari’s stomach over and over. Blood spilled from her shuddering body. Spent, Roland let go her throat and she fell next to Sol.

‘You bastard,’ Marduk said without emotion. ‘You bloody bastard.’A stunned silence filled the room.  

‘The men and I revered you,’ Roland said, staring at his bloody hand. ‘You were the last man standing in your line and we damn well looked up to you.’

Marduk shook free of the hands holding him. Leaning forward he felt his cheek brush Roland’s. He briefly clenched his left hand into a fist and felt the dagger secreted up his sleeve slip drop into his palm. He glimpsed one of the men at the table react to the dagger, then another man with a thick moustache seated placed a restraining hand on his arm.

‘I survived Skalak,’ Marduk whispered as he stabbed Roland in the chest. Roland gasped and fell against him. Marduk twisted the dagger, probing for his heart. ‘You never did.’

Roland fell to the floor in a graceless heap. A tense silence filled the room as Roland’s men looked at each other.

‘More feared than loved,’ Marduk said. ‘As I thought. The Imperator’s men will be here soon. Leave now, or die here. Go.’

The rebels looked uncertainly at each other. The man with the thick moustache stood.

‘He was mad,’ he said to Marduk, looking briefly at the corpse. ‘Brilliant, but mad. You have done us a favour. In return, we give you your life.’ He signalled to the others and led them out through the door.  

The door closed with a soft thud, leaving Marduk with Sol and Inari. A band of steel wrapped itself around Marduk’s chest. His lungs burned and the dagger weighed like a mountain. He dropped it beside Roland’s corpse.

‘Damn you,’ Marduk whispered. ‘Wasn’t Skalak enough?’

Sol cradled Inari’s limp body. Her eyes stared at the ceiling. Screaming came from the gardens.

‘How do we stop it, Captain?’ Sol asked. He looked lost, bewildered. He hugged Inari tight to his chest and stroked her hair.

‘We can’t,’ Marduk said. He listened as the sounds of the fighting outside went quiet. Stillness filled the room. Then the crash of iron shod boots. The doors flew open and two Cataphracts entered. A chill settled over Marduk. He knew before he saw him that –

Janos strode into the room. His bald scalp gleamed in the flickering light. He stopped between the silent Cataphracts.

‘Always the butcher’s way with you, Marduk,’ Janos said, looking around.

‘What are you doing here?’ Marduk said.  

‘Tidying up. The Imperator tired of Blevins’ fumbling in Glorka. By his command I’ve taken charge of the campaign.’

‘What about Blevins?’

‘General Blevins is Execution Hill’s latest adornment.’ Janos smiled in delight.

‘And me? Roland?’

‘I advised the Imperator that you would’ve put some much needed steel into Blevins’ spine if you had been allowed to stay with him. All I had to do was suggest a mission into Glorka and Blevins leaped at it. Strange what pressure will do to a man’s judgement, no matter how experienced. As for Roland, killing him kept you away from Blevins and removed a thorn in our side at a stroke. Once I tidy up the loose ends here, we won’t have to worry about crushing the rebellion.’

‘Do you think slaughtering thousands of civilians will crush the rebellion? Have you and that inbred freak on the throne gone completely insane?’

‘Have a care, Roland. You can die cleanly or…otherwise.’ Janos looked around him. ‘The Imperator is happy to put Glorka to the sword if it keeps the other provinces in check. Nothing like spilling a little blood to set an example.’

‘The lives of all those people out there are playthings? You’re no better than this fool,’ Marduk snarled, kicking Roland’s corpse. The closest Cataphract pivoted towards him. Marduk spared him a look of disgust.

‘Great men understand that sacrifices are required. The Imperator holds power. Roland tried to snatch it. Now, I’d like my property back, if you don’t mind.’

‘Property?’

‘Yes. The Child. Where is that catamount, Valens?’

‘Valens?’ Marduk began to laugh. Janos fingered his sword hilt. Marduk’s laughter trailed away.

‘Valens was your inside man? You should’ve chosen better.’

‘What do you mean?’ Janos looked uneasy.

‘He’s dead,’ Marduk said. He briefly smiled.

‘Dead? What do you – where’s the Child?’

‘I wondered when you would ask that.’ Marduk lifted his arm, displaying the manacle. The chain had vanished.

‘It’s mine now,’ he said. He whistled. The air shimmered and the Child stepped back into reality. It smiled to show off its sharp teeth.

Janos fell back, blood draining from his face.

‘Kill it,’ he ordered, his voice cracking.

The Cataphracts crashed forward, their heavy swords raised.

Marduk flicked his wrist and the chain snaked back and forth across the floor like a rustling metal snake. The Child smiled hugely and clapped its hands together in delight. It leaped at the Cataphracts.

Later, while it sat in the ruins of the men, drawing symbols in steaming blood, the Child watched Marduk use his dagger to peel away Janos’ face. Sol had vanished, plunging into the chaos in the gardens, sword drawn, mind broken, howling like a wild beast.

When Marduk finished with Janos, he stumbled, like a drunkard, over to where the Child crouched. Marduk knelt. His bones and heart.

‘A deal. You and me, a deal. Do you understand?’ His throat hurt, sore from screaming.

The Child’s face, caked in blood once again, creased in amusement.

‘I’ve always understood, Marduk,’ it said in a voice young, ancient, and infinitely terrible. ‘Better than you know yourself.’

Marduk’s hand stopped shaking. He flexed his fingers.

‘We’re going home.  Someone has to pay for all this.’ The screams from the gardens had long since faded, replaced by shouted orders inside the palace. Marduk smelled smoke.

‘Who will pay?’ Marduk, the Child eagerly asked.

‘The Imperator. His wife. The Crown Prince. His followers and courtiers and servants and supporters. All on the Great Council, the very machinery ruling the Empire. None deserves to live. All of them must pay.’  

Marduk rose to his feet and began to unshackle the manacle around his wrist. ‘I will give you your freedom, and you will give me the Imperator’s head. I want blood to run hip deep in the Palace. Do we have an agreement?’

The Child looked at him, blinked slowly, and then a huge, hungry smile crept across its face.

© January, 2017 Robert Mammone

Robert Mammone is a banker by day and a writer or horror and fantasy by night. He has been writing since 1989. His work has appeared previously in Swords & Sorcery.