The Covenant Rising

14

There had been a deluge of tears, naturally.

Without the children really being able to take in the news, let alone understand it or grieve, they were on the move again. If there was to be a chance of getting away, they didn’t have the luxury of time.

Tanalvah Lahn had stayed in Mahba’s home only long enough to throw together a few clothes and gather a little food. Now she carried the boy, Teg, and Lirrin walked alongside. They were red-eyed and dumb with shock.

With each hour that passed the risk increased, and it was about to multiply greatly. Because Tanalvah’s plan required going back to the docks area, where the bordello was. She couldn’t see another way.

Given the heightened tension between Rintarah and Gath Tampoor, and the activities of a resistance movement the state said didn’t exist, there were even more uniforms on Jecellam’s streets than usual. That made Tanalvah, Teg and Lirrin’s journey doubly perilous. They saw many members of the People’s Militia, paladins and disparate other law enforcers. Tanalvah accounted it a small miracle every time they passed one unmolested.

The children sank deeper into wretchedness. Only once did they forget themselves for a few moments and their spirits rise. Taking a circuitous route in case they were followed, they entered the fringes of a prosperous neighbourhood. In an avenue of well-maintained dwellings and neatly clipped trees they noticed a small group of youngsters who were being chaperoned by two glamour companions, magical playmates that also acted as child minders.

One took the form of a man-sized monkey, but it differed from a real simian in having pink fur. Playing a flute and rolling its eyes, it performed a droll, ungainly dance.

The other glamour was a bear. But where the monkey’s fur stayed pink, the bear’s changed colour, shimmering through orange, purple and green. The quasi-beast stood on its hind legs and a bell on a leather collar around its neck tinkled as it shuffled to the monkey’s tune.

The glamours’ charges laughed and cavorted and laid down memories.

Tanalvah had to move on, fearful of being seen loitering. Teg and Lirrin’s mood soon dipped again.

They entered a much less salubrious district. The houses were mean, and downcast people trudged the streets. There were no expensive glamours here. The quarter lacked the effulgence of quality magic to lighten its gloom.

On a street corner, charity workers were engaged in a magic run. A lengthy queue of the insolvent snaked to the back of their wagon. Each was handed a modest charm – spells that might conjure a transient flock of humming birds or a baby’s singing rattle; glamours that produced snatches of transcendent music or sublime visions, to ease the grind of poverty. And for more needy cases, the old and infirm principally, there might be a glamour familiar to relieve an evening’s loneliness.

Tanalvah pulled the children away.

Ten minutes later they skirted the block where the bordello stood. There were no signs of unusual activity in the area. That didn’t reassure Tanalvah; she knew law enforcers could be sly.

What came next would be difficult. She had to conduct some business, and she needed to do it alone. Teg and Lirrin had to be left somewhere. As their mother had gone to lengths to shelter them from the realities of her profession, Tanalvah hoped they wouldn’t be too shocked by what she had in mind.

‘Are we going to meet Mummy?’ Teg asked.

‘No, darling,’ she replied softly.

They came to the backwaters and a winding, dismal lane of low repute. A place where street prostitutes could be found, real bottom-of-the-trade working girls. The ones the authorities also said didn’t exist.

There was danger here from the militia’s regular raids and a clientele that could mete out violence and occasionally murder. The street walkers vied for business furtively, always ready to step back into the shadows. As Tanalvah walked slowly by them, scanning their faces, they returned her stare, wondering how a woman could bring children here.

By luck, or perhaps providence as Tanalvah saw it, she came across the person she wanted almost immediately. At first she didn’t recognise her, despite having last seen her only months before. She’d aged before her time. She was woefully thin and had an unwholesome pallor.

‘Freyal,’ Tanalvah said, approaching her.

‘Tanalvah? What are you doing here?’ She was guarded but seemed pleased to see her.

‘How are you, Freyal?’

‘Oh… all right. You know.’ Her hollow eyes darted to the children. ‘But you didn’t come here to ask me that.’

No. I…

we

need a favour.’ She glanced up and down the lane nervously. Other women were taking an interest. ‘Can we talk?’

‘All right.’ Then dryly, ‘Step into my boudoir.’ She backed into a doorway.

They crowded in with her. Up close, even in the poor light, Tanalvah could see the lines on Freyal’s face. Wrinkles that weren’t there when they worked together in the brothel, before Freyal had one lapse too many and was cast out, and the other women were forbidden to mention her name.

‘Who’re these two?’

‘This is Teg.’ Tanalvah hoisted him. He rammed a thumb into his mouth and gawked, blushing. ‘And Lirrin.’ The girl, brow furrowed solemnly, gave a small, apprehensive nod.

Gauntly, but with genuine warmth, Freyal smiled.

‘I want you to look after them,’ Tanalvah said. ‘Just for a while.’

Freyal looked doubtful. A strand of greasy hair dangled over her eye. She flicked it aside. ‘I don’t know, Tanalvah…’

‘It’s for one of our own. Please, I’ve nobody else to turn to.’

‘I’m not sure I -’

‘Just for two hours. I’ll give you what you’d make during that time.’ She peeked out at the lane, empty of all but working girls. ‘A damn sight more than you’re

likely

to make, in fact.’

‘What’s wrong, Tanalvah? What kind of trouble are you in?’

‘I can’t explain now, and maybe it’s best you don’t know. But believe me, you’d be doing good by taking care of these two for me. Here.’ She fished out some coins. ‘Take it. You’ll have the other half when I get back.’

‘Well… all right. But no longer than two hours.’

‘Good. Just a minute.’ She put Teg down. Lirrin immediately grasped his hand. ‘I’ve got to talk to Freyal for a second. All right? You stay there, both of you.’

She took her friend aside, out of their earshot, and whispered, ‘If I’m not back in two hours, take the kids and leave them at the door of the Endeavour Street orphanage.’

‘You’re in

big

trouble, aren’t you?’

‘It won’t happen. I’ll be back. It’s just in case I’m… delayed.’

The lie was poor and neither believed it.

‘I know I’m asking a lot of you,’ Tanalvah added, ‘but I need somebody I can trust.’

‘I reckon you must be in a real pickle to ask for my help. And you were always good to me, Tanalvah. So don’t worry, I’ll take care of them. Just hurry back.’

‘Thank you.’

Tanalvah went to the children. ‘I have to go somewhere, just for a little while. Freyal’s our friend and she’ll look after you.’ She gathered and hugged them.

‘Must you go?’ Lirrin asked, near tears.

‘Yes, dear, it’s important. But I’ll see you soon, I promise.’

‘You get off,’ Freyal said, lifting Teg. ‘I’ll take them to my place. It’s not far and it’s safe. We’ll be back here in two hours, no later.’

Tanalvah took one last look and turned away.

She moved faster now. Dodging the open arms of leering drunks, ignoring idlers’ catcalls, she headed for the docks, fearing that two hours wouldn’t be enough.

Again, through providence or chance, she had the advantage. In a tavern no respectable citizen would dare enter, at the table where she hoped and expected he would be, she found the man she sought. He was the captain of a fishing ship, and one of her clients. With persuasion and most of her money, he agreed to take her and the children out of Rintarah. Had the money not been enough she would have paid him another way. And his crew as well, if need be.

She started back by a different route. It wasn’t a conscious decision to go by way of the temple, but Tanalvah was drawn to it, as she had been many times before.

Although she had never really known much about her birthright gods, she had no intention of disdaining them. But temples devoted to the Qalochian gods didn’t exist in the city. Nor was there anywhere she could go to learn about her heritage; what little she knew came from rare meetings with her own kind. So Tanalvah had heeded that old saying about when in Jecellam do as the Jecellamites do, and given her devotion to a local deity.

In the pantheon of Rintarahian immortals, the goddess Iparrater did not rank high. There were many in the hierarchy more powerful, dashing, courageous or wrathful. But none as compassionate. Iparrater’s lack of eminence in the eyes of the state religion was the very reason she was loved by the poor and disenfranchised. For she was said to favour the hopeless, the destitute, the weak. She was the patron and protector of the dregs, and Tanalvah wasn’t alone in her profession in choosing to see that as extending to whores.

Tanalvah had made good time negotiating their passage, and there was some to spare before she met up with Freyal and the children. So she decided to go into the temple, just for a few minutes.

It was small, certainly when compared to those for the gods preferred by the rich and powerful. That was one of the reasons she liked it. It didn’t make her feel too intimidated. She went through its marble pillared entrance, across an anteroom and into the darkened hall of worship. There were several dozen people inside. Some sat on benches, heads bowed. A few were supplicants, waiting in line before a perpetually burning flame so they could cast in the scraps of parchment on which they had written their appeals.

But most simply stood and gazed at the goddess.

Tanalvah understood that the figure on a dais before the shrine was only a representation of Iparrater, a glamour likeness tended by her priestesses. That didn’t make it any less remarkable. To Tanalvah it was an article of faith that the illusion had an actual affinity with the goddess herself.

There was something almost unbearably sad about the chimerical Iparrater, as was to be expected of a deity that accepted the burden of so much despair. She was a tragic, ethereal figure, swathed from head to foot in grey gossamer, her arms outstretched as though to take on the weight of her worshippers’ sorrow. Yet for all the melancholy that attached to her, somehow she was fetching. Her face was veiled, but by some strange quirk of the sorcerers’ art or through the transcendent power of the goddess herself, there was an unmistakable impression of her hidden features. A stamp of kindliness, nobility and sublime mercy.

Tanalvah went to her knees. She prayed for Mahba’s spirit, for the safety of the children, and lastly for herself. Conscious of time passing, she traced the sign of the goddess, touching her collarbones, left to right, with the middle fingers of her hand. Then she rose and turned to leave.

In a side chapel she paid to light a candle so that Mahba’s soul could see its way to the afterlife. And in the annexe she couldn’t resist stopping at the oracle. A stone idol, in the form of a scaled-down version of Iparrater’s glamour, it dispensed prophecies in exchange for a coin. She dropped one into the dish, reflecting on how fast her money was going, and slipped her hand into the divining slot. A light tingling sensation prickled her fingers.

There was a panel at the foot of the statue, coloured pewter. Its surface swirled and glittered. A few words came into focus.

Interesting times await you

.

Tanalvah felt, perhaps heretically, that she could have worked that out for herself.

As promised, Freyal was there with the children. Tanalvah embraced, thanked and paid her. Then she took Lirrin and Teg by their hands and set off again.

She never knew that Freyal would be dead before nightfall.

Her body would be found not far from the street where she worked. The likely cause of death was stab wounds, though she had other injuries that could have proved as fatal. Some put the murder down to a lone sadist. An occupational hazard. There were those who whispered about agents of the state, and of how the girl’s condition pointed to torture. She knew a secret, maybe, a piece of information the authorities wanted.

But nobody cared.

On the way to the ship Teg became fractious and tearful, and demanded his mother. He drew unwelcome stares. Tanalvah placated him a little, and Lirrin tried to help calm him, in her perplexed, tight-lipped way. But it was an additional problem Tanalvah didn’t need as they moved through byways filled with potential informers and haters of her race.

They were nearly at the moorings when things reached breaking point. The boy was in a tantrum, struggling in her arms, and his sister had succumbed to great wet, gulping tears of her own. Heads were turning their way.

Then a strident noise boomed out above them. They looked up to see a crier glamour far overhead. It resembled an enormous eagle, so big that were it to land its wings would span the width of the road. And it wasn’t alone; others could be seen wheeling in the distance.

The voice of the crier, with its distinctive, not quite human inflection, was greatly amplified. But as the glamour was still high in the sky, and circling, only snatches of its proclamation could be heard.

‘…of a Rintarahian citizen… flight from the scene… Qalochian… Lahn…’

‘That’s

your

name, Auntie Tanalvah!’ Lirrin exclaimed.

Tanalvah scooped up the startled children and ran into the nearest alley. She prayed that people on the street were too preoccupied with the glamour to notice. Weaving through the back ways, carrying Teg, dragging Lirrin, both of them bawling, she moved as fast as she could towards the harbour. She’d promised to be with the ship at a specific time, so it could catch the evening tide, and this detour was slowing her dangerously.

Every now and again the crier glamour, or one of its duplicates, appeared low over the rooftops, massive wings beating languidly as it broadcast her description and supposed crimes. Tanalvah expected to be challenged at any moment, to hear the tramp of running boots and feel the thud of a militiaman’s cudgel across her back.

But she reached the dockside undetected. And there was the ship, bustling with activity prior to departure. The gangway was still in place, and at its top stood the captain, watching them approach. Tanalvah dashed to it, clutching the children, heart racing. At the foot of the stairs she hesitated, breathing hard. The captain must have seen the criers. Would he want to carry a fugitive?

‘Come on!’ he yelled, beckoning frantically.

‘Hurry!’

She clattered up the gangway, leaving a trail of bits and pieces that spilt from her open shoulder bag.

‘The criers,’ she panted.

‘I know,’ the skipper told her. ‘Go with him.

Move!

’

A crewman steered her and the children to the bridge, and out of sight.

The captain bellowed the order to cast off. Crew scuttled along the decks, ropes were slipped from bollards, the gangway was raised. Sails whipping, the vessel moved away from the harbour wall.

Shortly, the captain joined Tanalvah on the bridge.

‘We’re not clear yet,’ he said, ‘but I think we’ll be all right. Unless they have the navy out. You’re not important enough for that, are you?’

‘What? Oh. I don’t think so. No, of course not. Look… thank you for taking us. But why? After the criers, I mean.’

Teg and Lirrin were subdued and tearless now, mesmerised by the captain’s weather-battered, generously whiskered face.

‘I’ve no great love for the law myself,’ he replied. ‘And there’s the kids to consider. Besides, a little risk adds spice to life.’

She smiled. ‘I think I’ve had enough to be getting on with.’

‘There might be a bit more before we’re through.’

‘Oh?’

‘You were in such a state when you found me at the inn, you didn’t even ask where I’d be taking you.’

‘No, I didn’t, did I? I suppose I was just relieved to be getting away from here.’

‘My first thought was the Diamond Isle. Seemed fitting, given your, er, line of business.’ He eyed the children. ‘But when you mentioned kids I knew that wouldn’t have been right.’

‘You can say that again. So where are we heading?’

‘Bhealfa.’

‘But that’s Gath Tampoorian territory!’

‘It is these days. And they wouldn’t take kindly to a Rintarahian vessel sailing into one of their ports, that’s for sure. But that’s not how we’re going to do it. I’ve arranged to have you transferred to another ship, when we’re off the coast. I’ve dealt with the skipper before and he can be trusted. And as he’s a Bhealfan he shouldn’t have too much trouble getting you all ashore. But there are dangers, I won’t pretend there aren’t.’

‘You have dealings with the enemy?’

‘I deal with men in the same trade as me. They just happen to be on the other side of a divide because the politicians, the warmongers, say so. And before you ask what dealings I have, let me tell you it’s smuggling. It’s not what I’d choose to do, but these are hard times for fishermen, what with all the trouble in the fishing grounds up north.’

‘Why? What’s happening there?’

‘Zerreiss.’

‘What?’

‘Who.’

The captain smiled wryly. ‘Sometimes I forget how little the government lets you land-dwellers know. Whereas out here, on the ocean, and in other climes, we hear things, see things… Zerreiss is a warlord, and he’s been making some impressive conquests in the barbarous regions.’

‘I thought there were many warlords in that part of the world.’

‘Yes, there are. But there’s something different about this one. Something out of the ordinary.’ He took in the faces of his passengers. ‘But I’m being a bad host. You look as though you could do with food and drink, and some rest.’

‘Thank you, we could.’

‘After that, you can tell me why you’re fleeing Rintarah, if you’re inclined. And I’ll tell you what I know about Zerreiss, and why his followers call him the man who fell from the Sun.’