The Crown of blood

IV

Thunder Pass was a steep-sided valley, the walls pitted with caves and disused mine workings. Reifan guided the landship into an immense cavern not far from the entrance to the pass. Inside were hundreds of men and women, children also. Smoke from dozens of fires filled the cavern before seeping out of a fissure that ran halfway along the roof. The floor was littered with ash and other detritus. Rolls of blankets, barrels, boxes, bundles of staves, stacks of arrows and other equipment lined the uneven walls. The chamber echoed with ringing hammers and the rasp of saws, fiery crackling and shouts.

To Anglhan, who was a stickler for a neat and orderly vessel, it was quite a mess and the rebels' ragtag appearance dented his optimism a little. Reifan and his companions had led Anglhan to believe that Aroisius was well-prepared and organised. From here his "army" looked no different from the dozens of other dissident bands that had populated the mountains.

Anglhan tried to keep his smile, but Reifan must have noticed something in his demeanour.

"Don't be fooled," said the rebel. "This is just the workshop and families. Up top, it's a different story."

"Up top?"

"Don't worry," Reifan replied with a grin. "It's only a short climb."

While the crew made fast the landship, Anglhan and Furlthia disembarked with Reifan. The crew lowered blocks on ropes to chock beneath the landship's wheels and began bringing down the sail boom.

"Back to work," snapped Reifan as a considerable crowd gathered. He shoved a few of the most reluctant, and sent the children scurrying with a snarl. "You all have things to do!"

Outside, the valley was beginning to fall into shadow, while the sun shone from the almost sheer wall opposite. The dipping valley floor was broken by scrub and rocks. Piles of boulders and scree extended out from the sides from past landslides.

"They had to give up mining because of all the cave-ins," explained Reifan as he led them up the valley. "Even slaves cost money. It's called Thunder Pass for a reason. In winter, storms sweep right down here from coldward. Really bad blizzards and avalanches."

"And you stay here during that?" asked Furlthia.

"Safest place to be," said Reifan with a wink.

The way "up top" was a winding path just wide enough for two men to walk abreast, sometimes so steep that steps had been carved into the bare stone. There was no fence or guide rope and Anglhan was happy to follow behind his guide, keeping as close to the cliff as possible. Here and there a frayed rope or bent bronze hook showed where the ore had been lowered from the higher mine workings, but most had been scavenged over the years. Occasionally Anglhan's foot scraped over ancient nails and he stubbed his toe on a thick plank jutting from under the roots of a twisted, stunted tree.

He was lathered with sweat by the time the path reached the top of the cliff, and his knees were trembling from the exertion. Heaving in painful breaths, Anglhan forced himself up the last turn of the path, Furlthia giving him encouragement from behind. With a few more panting gasps, he came to the top. Reifan extended a hand and helped him up a last steep step.

They had come to a shoulder of Mount Litheis, which stood like a sky-piercing guardian at the head of the valley. The shoulder sloped gently to coldwards and duskwards, layered with thick soil and sparse patches of grass. The plateau was easily five or six bowshots deep and extended for more than twice that length, narrowing gradually and steepening as it progressed along the valley, until it merged with the steep sides of the mountain. A ridge jutted out two-thirds of the way along, providing a natural wind barrier, and it was in the lee of this that there were pitched dozens of tents. Several hundred, guessed Anglhan, each large enough to house twenty men. The camp was strangely quiet, the wind and snap of canvas the only sounds.

"Where is everyone?" Anglhan asked.

"Hunting, getting firewood, keeping watch," said Reifan. "Some old hill tribes have villages coldwards of here, far enough from Ersua that the Askhans haven't bothered coming after them. They've always hated Salphoria too, since their ancestors were driven up here by King Arnassin. We've trading parties that go to them throughout the summer, with crops, wool and other lowland stuff they can't get hold of any way. In return, they let us stay here and give us food, wood, rope, even some of their women."

"How long have you been here?" asked Furlthia. He looked around at the camp with incredulity. "I'm surprised nobody has found you yet."

Reifan had to think for a while before he replied.

"Seven years, I think. Maybe it has been eight." He looked away, deep in thought. "Yes, eight. I'm sure of it."

As they talked, they crossed the open ground between the cliff edge and the tents. The footing was slippery with moss and Anglhan wished he hadn't worn his best boots.

"It used to be that the brigands around here would move around a lot," Reifan continued, raising his voice as the wind gusted away his words. "They were afraid that the king would send men after them. Lord Aroisius realised that was their problem; they were easy to pick off, one group at a time. Although we have raided caravans in the past, we tend to go coldwards to Ersua instead, which means the chief of Magilnada isn't really bothered by us. That means we've been left alone to gather our strength. Aroisius the Free wants to take the city before winter comes. That way, the king won't be able to do anything until next spring, by which time we'll be ready to take whatever he sends at us."

They were in the camp now, threading their way through a maze of guy ropes and canvas. Contrary to Anglhan's first impression, the camp was not deserted. Groups of men clustered around small fires. They sharpened weapons, ground grain, stirred pots of broth or skinned deer and rabbits. Here and there small corrals had been made of rope fences, holding longhorned goats.

"In here," said Reifan, lifting the flap of a tent to their left. A warm gust greeted them and Anglhan realised how chill his skin had become despite the sun. With a nod of thanks, he ducked inside.

Aroisius the Free and his chieftains sat on a circular rug at the far end of the tent, arguing. The leader was a gaunt man, even taller and skinnier than Reifan. He had a wispy beard and thinning black hair that hung lankly over his shoulders. Anglhan guessed him to be about forty years old, though he could have been older. He looked up with bright blue eyes, animated, analysing every detail of his visitors in a sweeping glance.

Aroisius stood up as far as he could and walked towards them, neck bent so that his head did not touch the ridge pole running the length of the tent. He extended a bony hand and Anglhan shook it strongly.

"What a magnificent enterprise!" declared Anglhan, wearing his broadest smile. The chieftains looked at him dispassionately, eight bearded, gruff faces. The debt guardian continued on regardless, reciting the speech he had been rehearsing to himself for several days.

"I know that at first you must think me a strange convert to your cause. Am I not one of the men that has profited from the misery of those enslaved by the cruel edicts of that spirit-cursed fiend Aegenuis? I confess to you now that I was such a man. But sometimes a man lives his life with his eyes only half-open. He sees only what he wants to see, and I am ashamed to say that I was such a man until recently.

"But if the spirits bless a man, sometimes his eyes will open full and he will see all of the world, and the true part he has to play in it. Some do so reluctantly, bowed by the burden that they see they must bear. Not I! I am, it has been said, a man of opportunity. When I-"

"Shut him up before I do," growled one of the chieftains, rising to his feet, his fingers on the haft of a small axe at his belt.

Aroisius held up his hands for silence. He cocked his head to one side and looked Anglhan straight in the eye.

"Do not think that I am an idiot because I live in a tent on a hillside." His voice was soft, cultured. "I know what it is that drives men like you: greed."

Anglhan opened his mouth to protest, but Aroisius stopped him with a raised finger.

"That was not meant as an insult, merely an observation. We all have our weaknesses. But we also all have our strengths, and it is those that interest me more. Even now, your mind is whirling with the possibilities. You are looking for the profit in this."

"I assure you, my intentions…" Anglhan's defence died away under Aroisius' unblinking stare. The rebel leader smiled thinly.

"I am sure we will come to understand each other better. For now, you should know two things. Firstly, that you are at my mercy. Your crew are being disarmed as we speak, and your Nemurians are being offered an agreement far more handsome than the one you have with them. This is not a threat, merely a statement of the measures I am taking to protect myself."

Anglhan smiled bravely, though inside his guts writhed with worry.

"And the second thing?" he asked.

Aroisius laid a hand on the landship captain's shoulder and gently guided him to the rug. A little pressure directed Anglhan to sit, and Aroisius joined him, crossing his long legs. He gestured to one of his chieftains, who twisted around and picked up a small chest. It was passed around the circle until it reached Aroisius, who placed it in front of Anglhan.

"Secondly, you should know that whatever schemes you were concocting, I can make it far more profitable to serve me."

The rebel leader opened the chest. Inside was filled with minted gold pieces, small and triangular with a stylised face on one side and a ziggurat on the other. Anglhan stared at it. He dragged back his hand, realising that he had reached out towards the money. Something struck him as odd.

"Those are askharins," he said.

Aroisius's reply was a lopsided smile.

V

Though he could not see Anglhan's face, Furlthia could guess at his captain's expression when the gold was revealed. The first mate hung back by the tent entrance while Aroisius continued at length, talking about the need to claim Magilnada so that it could become the capital of a new state free from the tyranny of slavery. He spoke about the huge swell of support that would erupt across Salphoria once this haven was created, and how Magilnada would become the new centre of power for the Salphors.

Anglhan picked up one of the Askhan coins and examined it closely. He tapped it against a tooth and even smelt it.

"These are real," he said. "Where do they come from?"

Aroisius plucked the coin from Anglhan's fingers and dropped it back in the chest, which he shut with a thud.

"It is where some of them may end up that you should concern yourself with," said the rebel leader. "In your trove, perhaps?"

Anglhan shrugged.

"That's quite a bit of coin, but it's not enough to equip an army."

"There is plenty more, believe me," said Aroisius.

"And what sort of employment do you have in mind for me?"

Aroisius stood and gestured for Anglhan to do likewise. He led the landship master to the door of the tent.

"That is for a future discussion. Please return to your men and assure them that they are under no threat. Please also convey my regret at having to detain them at the moment. I am sure they will all become worthy soldiers in the army of liberation, but for the moment I must insist that they remain in camp."

"That applies to me as well?" said Anglhan.

"More than anyone," said Aroisius, with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Anglhan signalled for Furlthia to leave first, and outside they found Reifan waiting for them.

"What would happen if I tried to leave?" Anglhan asked innocently as they walked back through the camp. Reifan glanced around, to the mountain and across the valley to the slope on the other side. Furlthia followed the rebel's gaze and saw more than a dozen wooden structures concealed behind branches and rocks. There were several bowmen in each covering the mouth of the valley.

"I am sure you can find your own way back," said Reifan when they reached the top of the path.

Furlthia went first so that he could help Anglhan clamber down the track. The captain was pensive for some time, saying nothing until they were almost halfway down the cliff face. As if a lamp had been lit, Anglhan's expression brightened.

"So that's the wonderful Aroisius the Free, eh?" he said. He tapped his fingers together excitedly. "I think this might turn out even better than I had hoped."

"He's an idealist," said Furlthia. "Those sorts never have a good end. The sooner we can be rid of him, the better."

"No, no, no!" Anglhan stopped and gripped the mate's shoulder tightly. "He's an idealist for sure, but he's not a fool. Sometimes a stupid man can be impossible to trick, but a man who is clever can trick himself. Aroisius thinks he has us where he wants us, and we might as well let him believe that."

"He doesn't have us where he wants us? His men got the Nemurians, the crew and the landship. That doesn't look promising to me."

"But he as much as admitted himself that he needs me for something, otherwise I've no doubt I'd have had my throat slit or been pushed over this cliff already." He started walking again, his pace as brisk as his bulk and the unsteady footing would allow. "When a man wants something, he becomes vulnerable."

"What do you suppose that could be?"

"I don't know yet, but I have a few ideas. Did you see those chieftains of his? I'm guessing that most of these rebels follow them. Half of them had hillmen blood in them, you could tell by their squinty eyes and flat noses. I'd bet you a night with my sister that they're interested in something other than the liberation of Salphoria."

"You don't have a sister."

Anglhan waved away the comment.

"Aroisius must be offering them something else, and I would think that Askhan gold has something to do with it. And what did Reifan say? They've been raiding into Ersua. Some Askhan, a rich one at that, has got his grubby little fingers all over this pretty girl, I'm sure of it. I think Aroisius is playing a dangerous game, and he might not even realise how dangerous it is."

"That doesn't sound like something we should get mixed up with," Furlthia said. "Rebels on one side, Askhans on the other, and who knows who else, and us stuck in the middle? Perhaps we should just cut our losses and get out of here as soon as we can."

"Furlthia, you have such a narrow view sometimes! Aroisius isn't going to let us go anywhere until he's sure he has us on some kind of leash. And he's right about that gold; some of it should end up in my pockets. All I have to do is wait for the right moment."

"I'm giving you fair warning, that's all. I'll watch your back for the moment, but I don't want any part of any rebellion. And I want even less to do with any Askhans."

Anglhan treated Furlthia to his most paternal smile as they reached the valley floor.

"You worry like a whore that hasn't been paid yet. Stick with me, Furlthia, and I'll make you a rich man."

"And if it all turns to a pile of shit?"

"Then you'll have to run fast to keep up with me."