The Broken Isles

TWENTY — SEVEN

Fulcrom and Lan headed back to the Partisans’ Club in the morning. When they arrived, Fulcrom made up some excuse about having lost Lan’s necklace the night before and asked to take a look around to see if he could find it.

‘You look like decent sorts,’ the doorman said, and let them both in.

While he was there, Fulcrom planned to engage the owner in a conversation about the event with Malum. It pained Fulcrom to praise the scenes he had seen that night, to wax lyrical about what was at best small-mindedness, racism and violence. But he knew he needed more information about what Malum had devised next and this was his best — his only — lead for now.

The owner turned out to be a woman in her fifties. She looked as if she could have once been a starlet in her day, and there was still something about the way she moved, and the make-up she wore, that said she hadn’t fully left the stage alone. She had greying blonde hair, a huge smile and wide, pretty eyes. Judging by the look of her she liked her food now, and almost anticipating such thoughts she said, as they took a table by the empty stage, ‘I’m not what I used to be, you know. When you have your own cook, sometimes the temptation is too great!’

‘There’s no harm in liking a good meal,’ Fulcrom said.

‘You rumel might be able to cope, but it’s not that easy for me. Now, can I get you a drink? I’ve more than one handsome waiter around here somewhere. .’

‘No, that’s OK,’ Fulcrom laughed, ‘we shouldn’t be that long — hopefully Lan will find the necklace soon enough.’

‘She’s a pretty girl,’ the woman observed.

‘She is,’ Fulcrom replied. ‘If you want to get yourself something to eat or drink, don’t let me stop you.’

‘I don’t get enough exercise to eat and drink all the time! I used to be on that stage every night in my youth.’ She gestured with a wave to the dimly lit platform just behind.

‘You’ve some interesting shows these days,’ Fulcrom told her. ‘That one with Malum last night was different. Not your typical piece of theatre.’

‘You could put it like that. Must confess, I don’t normally like to entertain the likes of him.’

‘You disapprove of what he said? I thought it was. . interesting.’

‘Not his message, no,’ the woman replied, leaning back in her chair and drawing a leg over her other knee. ‘No, he speaks wisely on that front, does the young man. I make no issue about being scared of the aliens — most of us are.’

‘It’s understandable, given the times we live in,’ Fulcrom said. ‘So how did you end up hosting his. . well, his little show?’

‘Oh, he’s a regular here — well, he used to be before the war. That was his chair over there, by the wall.’

‘He had his own chair?’

‘He was in the gangs.’

Fulcrom nodded, pretending to understand the significance of her statement.

‘Those gang types,’ she went on, ‘tend to have their own way around these parts. You don’t mess with them.’

‘It shouldn’t be like that,’ Fulcrom observed.

‘That’s the way this city is,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in complaining about things.’

‘How does a gang type end up here? And how does he go from having a table to going on stage?’

‘Well, he asked for a favour, and I was too scared to say no.’

‘I don’t really get the chance to mix with people like that.’

‘Count yourself lucky.’

‘I was interested in what he had to say, even if he doesn’t impress everyone. I had this silly idea in mind of offering my help.’

The woman eyed him suspiciously. ‘There are better people to help.’

‘But I agree with his sentiments.’

‘You know, I’m feeling generous.’ She then went on to describe the address at which Malum could be found. ‘That’s if you’re serious in your offer.’

‘I’m very serious,’ Fulcrom replied. As if on cue, Lan came over with a necklace in her hand and a wide smile on her face.

‘Well,’ the owner declared, ‘would you look at that. What were the chances?’

‘I know,’ Lan replied, with fake elation.

Fulcrom rose and stood alongside Lan. ‘That’s wonderful news. Now I won’t have to buy you another.’

‘We should probably be going.’

‘Let me show you out,’ the woman said. She walked them back through the musty corridors, which smelled of spilled alcohol and arum weed.

‘One last thing.’ The woman paused at the bottom of the stairwell to the exit. ‘You are both awful liars and performers.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I know lousy acting when I see it. You should have just been honest and asked for his details outright. I’d be glad to see him stopped — that’s if you think you have it in you.’

Fulcrom considered continuing the charade, but decided it wasn’t worth it. ‘We have to be careful. We know who we’re dealing with.’

‘I know. Make sure you watch your back.’

Outside, Fulcrom consulted Lan on their next move. They weighed up their options, but with nothing else in their way they decided to press on to the address.

‘With the military out of the city, we need to see if we can stop this sooner rather than later,’ Fulcrom concluded. ‘At the moment, though, I’m short on ideas. .’

The two of them headed through the wet streets. The cobbles were shiny in the afternoon sun. A giant trilobite, which Fulcrom had heard of but never seen until now, skittered across their path dragging a crate of tools. The devastation from the war was clearer here, but Fulcrom guessed that things had been far worse before they turned up. There wasn’t so much rubble, but it was the lack of activity in what should have been a thriving district that was disconcerting.

It took them the better part of an hour to reach the area they wanted, a well-to-do zone with a few taverns, faded shopfronts, and that kind of architectural spirit far too lacking in the rest of the city.

The building was a whitewashed affair with timber frames and a flat roof. A few people milled around nearby and Fulcrom tried to assess whether or not they were related to the operation Malum was running. A cluster of youths came out of a side door and marched with deliberate purpose and an air of nonchalance. He spotted a few knives being carried, so they decided to hang back a little while longer.

‘So what exactly is the plan?’ Lan asked. ‘We just storm in, the two of us?’

‘No,’ Fulcrom replied. ‘I think we need a little more confirmation of what’s going on. I suspect our next move should be a stealthy one. I want to get up on the roof.’

‘Easy enough.’

‘For you, maybe, not for the likes of me.’

‘Should get yourself some powers someday,’ Lan chuckled.

The roofs were all flat and the buildings close together so Fulcrom decided they should head to one of the nearby taverns, get up on its roof, and jump across until they were on the roof of Malum’s building. Lan happily enough skipped up onto the roof when no one was looking, but Fulcrom had to find his way around the back to scramble up. Lan gave him a hand up at the top, and with an effort he found himself on top of the tavern.

‘Thanks,’ he spluttered.

‘No problem,’ Lan replied.

The place offered a good view of the area. The sun was higher in the sky now and a cold wind blew half-heartedly. The youths had moved on a few streets, and Lan spotted them heading towards the east.

‘Let’s go over.’ Fulcrom steadied himself, took a run and leapt across the three-foot gap between the rooftops. Lan effortlessly took a large step, her foot hardly touching the adjacent roof before she’d moved on to the rooftop of Malum’s building.

‘All right,’ Fulcrom muttered as he landed alongside her and wiped the gritty rainwater from his palms.

There was a hatch on the top, a mouldy bucket to one side, but otherwise nothing else of use. Fulcrom headed towards the hatch, saw that it had not been opened for a while.

‘Lan, can you give a hand here?’

‘Sure, is it locked?’

‘I’m not sure. It just needs a yank to pull it open, but I don’t want to make a noise.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Lan hunched over the hatch and tuned in to her powers; then, with a quick heave, she snapped up the hatch. It came loose, and the noise was discreet enough not to raise an alarm.

After a few minutes, confident that they were unheard, Fulcrom poked his head into the opening: there was only blackness down below, but with enough daylight leaking in he could make out floorboards.

‘OK, let’s head in and leave the hatch open.’

They both descended into Malum’s building, Lan more fluidly than Fulcrom, and they left the hatch half open so that they could see what they were doing. They found themselves in an attic space, with old fishing crates, nets, buoys and paintings all gathering dust. Some of the floorboards seemed rotten, and Fulcrom cautiously tested them with his foot before applying his weight.

‘So where next?’ Lan whispered.

‘We listen and we wait.’

They nestled themselves in one corner and, from their position sitting on the floor, Fulcrom spotted a door. He gestured to it and, in hushed tones, said, ‘We can head through that if we want to hear more, but for now I suggest we just hang about for a while to see who’s around and find out what their plans are. Without the backing of a great force all we can do is spy on them and work out what they’re up to.’

‘Fun,’ Lan whispered sarcastically.

‘Hey, this is the dull side of working in the Inquisition — a lot of waiting around to see if something happens. It isn’t that glamorous.’

‘I’d better get used to it then,’ Lan replied, reclining with a sigh.

A door slammed somewhere down below.

Lan and Fulcrom snapped to attention, Fulcrom’s heart beating quickly now. Voices drifted up from below, commanding tones, precise instructions.

‘It’s him,’ Fulcrom whispered. ‘It must be.’

‘How long have we been here now?’

‘No idea.’ Fulcrom stood up, brushed himself down and looked up at the hatch. The sun had moved significantly since they had entered the building. ‘I reckon at least three hours.’

‘You were right, this is dull work.’ Lan joined him as they moved towards the door.

Fulcrom pressed his ear against the wood.

Malum. . we’ve got most. . east city.

Killed ten soldiers already, bodies dumped in the harbour.

When shall we start?

More time. More numbers? We’ve thousands right?

Military. . unguarded.

Empress? Haven’t seen her for weeks.

Fulcrom peeled back a minute later, when the people who had entered the building began laughing about something else.

‘Well?’ Lan asked. ‘I say we head down there and get them now.’

‘We don’t know how many are down there and how well armed they are. We’re not an army.’

‘So what? We can take them, surely. I’ve got my powers.’

Someone shouted from underneath.

Fulcrom watched in horror as Lan, almost bouncing on the spot to ready herself, suddenly put her foot through a floorboard: as she tried to rebalance herself, she engaged her powers, which worked against her. She flipped her head back and smacked it on a timber support with the full force of her enhancements.

It happened so quickly.

‘Fuck.’ Fulcrom dashed to her side and was relieved to see that she was still breathing, although she had cut open her head on the sharp edge of the pillar.

Footsteps on the stairway.

Fulcrom glanced to the door and back to Lan. He tried to lift her up, to see if she was still alert, to see if she could tune in to her powers.

Footsteps were now outside the door. There was a silent pause then the door was kicked open. Four men each carrying a blade ran forward into the room — and there were another two coming up, all of them tough-looking types that looked as if they knew their way around a fight.

Fulcrom held up his hands as if to say something but a punch came to his face and the next thing he knew he was pressed against the floorboards.

‘What the fuck should we do with ’em?’ someone said.

‘Tie them up. Take the buggers down to Malum. He can decide.’

Still dazed, Fulcrom felt the ropes binding around his wrists and twisted his head so that he could see Lan. She, too, was being bound. Together they were dragged downstairs by their feet, each step digging into his back. The two of them were shoved into a brighter, cleaner room that was sparsely decorated. There was a window overlooking the street, a few tables, a row of swords and a few bottles on the floor.

Fulcrom breathed mindfully, trying to force away the pain. Stay alert, stay smart. .

‘So,’ came a strong, bass voice, ‘we have guests. Two more for the takeover, do you think?’

There were a few chuckles from the others, as Fulcrom and Lan were levered upright and pushed against a wall. Fulcrom looked over to Lan to make sure she was OK, but she was still dazed.

His vision settled on one man sitting back with his feet up on a large table. It was Malum. There was a blade resting by his boots. He picked up the blade and pointed it at Fulcrom. ‘You. What the fuck were you doing up there?’

‘We’re homeless lovers, sir. Looking for shelter. Times are tough in the city and we’ve fallen on hard times. Have a heart.’

‘Bollocks are you homeless,’ the man replied. ‘That medallion around your neck is worth a month’s rent for a start. Speaking of which, it’s one I haven’t seen in a while. Inquisition, right?’

‘I stole it.’

‘Give up, clown, it’s obvious who you are. The Inquisition is usually in the pocket of the gangs, or it was before the war, anyway, so I’m guessing you’re new stock, that right? Working for the albino?’

Fulcrom nodded.

‘Hear that, lads? This is the albino’s last line of defence.’ They all laughed.

‘So what were you doing up in the attic. .’ Malum mused. ‘Hoping to listen in to my progress to report back to the albino, right?’

Fulcrom simply gave a sigh in reply.

‘Well then. You know the albino isn’t around now, right?’ Malum stepped back to get a better look at his two captives.

‘He’s at war, trying to save people’s lives,’ Fulcrom replied defiantly.

‘I was thinking of leaving your heads for him as a welcome-back present.’ At that point, Fulcrom realized he would probably die, and he greeted the thought with utter calm and logic. ‘I had hoped for a more adventurous, braver end to things.’

‘Ain’t that always the way,’ Malum muttered. ‘No triumphant ending for you two.’

‘You know, I meant what I said when I said we were lovers,’ Fulcrom muttered.

‘What, you and the commander? I can believe that — isn’t that right, lads? Queer fuckers.’

‘No,’ Fulcrom cautioned. ‘Me and my companion. We’re lovers. That much is true. If you’re going to kill us, I just ask that you don’t burn our bodies.’

‘You think I’ve got the time for that anyway? You’ll end up in the harbour like everyone else.’

That was a relief, at least. Right now, Fulcrom had to put as much faith in what he thought would happen next as he could manage. He tried to recall all that he knew of these matters. ‘Thank you,’ he breathed.

‘What the fuck for? Killing you?’

‘Please, a stab to the heart would be wonderful for the both of us.’

‘You’ve balls, I’ll give you that, inquisitor,’ Malum grunted. ‘See that?’ He announced to the rest of the room. ‘The man faces death honourably. No quivering, no pissing himself like some of the shit-bags you see around this city. Look upon this execution as a lesson in how to go if you ever get to this stage.’ Malum reached for his sword and ordered someone else to stand over Lan, a much younger man — almost a boy. Both of them pressed the tips of their blades above the respective hearts.

‘He needs to move down a couple of inches,’ Fulcrom muttered.

‘What?’

‘Your young colleague’s blade is too high to penetrate her heart properly. I’m guessing this is his first time.’

‘Oh, right, good spot,’ Malum agreed, and gave appropriate instructions to the nervous-looking lad before turning his attention to Fulcrom once again. ‘You got guts, rumel. You could have a place in my operation; we could do with a man like you.’

Fulcrom shook his head. ‘I serve only the law.’

‘Principles, too,’ Malum laughed. ‘What a waste.’

Don’t look at Lan now, Fulcrom told himself. Whatever you do, don’t look at Lan and remember you’ve tried your best. .

The last thing Fulcrom noticed was Malum’s grinning face as he pressed the blade firmly into Fulcrom’s heart, instant pain, the daylight fading from sight, then a lightness. . utter freedom.

A release.