Марк Ньютон - Drakenfeld

‘I don’t want my people to go hungry,’ I said.

‘No one wants that,’ Tibus agreed. ‘What’s your idea, Drakenfeld?’

‘It’s in everyone’s interest for this whole thing to end as soon as possible. Well, that can be two ways – either Licintius hands himself in or we break down the walls or gates and march in to collect him.’

‘Stating the obvious, Drakenfeld…’ Tibus wiped her brow with her handkerchief, looking increasingly annoyed with the fact that I’d dragged her out into the heady sunlight.

‘Not entirely. The first point may never happen, but I believe there’s a short cut to the second version.’

‘Which is?’

‘The aqueducts.’ I gestured to the spectacular works of engineering that supplied Tryum with fresh water from the hills and mountains. ‘We can make our way into the city, through an aqueduct. There’s hardly been any rain around here over the past few weeks, except a storm that passed over Tryum – not the hills. There are access points throughout the structures, aren’t there? Admittedly it could be some distance between them – but there will be a way inside them. I know of at least one point where the walls were broken and in need of repair. A tiny force can sneak into the city while no one even realizes. I know those streets better than anyone here, and I know my way around Optryx, too.’

‘You want to lead a band of soldiers through one of those things,’ Tibus said. ‘I like it. General?’

Callimar smiled. ‘I’ll not let you go in alone and have all the fun. Who can we take with us?’

‘A unit to go after the king and a unit to open the gates,’ Tibus declared, commandeering the plan. ‘We could do with bribes being arranged where possible – and a couple of agents doing the dirty work. As young Drakenfeld keeps reminding us, nonviolence is the key – all of this is a gesture and a threat, nothing more. We don’t depose kings in these circumstances; we let the bodies within the nation decide on the best course of action.’

Callimar added, ‘We could arrange for a decoy on the opposite side of the city – move a few siege weapons into place, to look as if we are planning to gain entry from another gate. While the city’s forces are all looking in one direction, we’ll crawl in through the other.’

I took a deep breath, relieved that my whim was not as ridiculous as I had first imagined, and that the people of Tryum might not have to go without food after all.

We spent the morning resting in anticipation of the forthcoming operation, then later that afternoon Leana and I headed out on foot with fifty infantrymen and two of our engineers, short, cheerful and intelligent men who couldn’t stop arguing with each other. While the heat was beginning to fade, we set out on our route away from Tryum, heading along the largest-looking of the aqueducts, looking for a point of entry or a weakness that could be exploited. The aqueducts around Tryum were two centuries old, the engineers explained, designed at the start of the Detratan Empire, and formed the blueprint for the structures that today littered Vispasia. Each one was fundamentally the same and each shared precisely the same incline for the water to flow.

We only had to march for less than half an hour until our engineers located what they thought was the best way in. To gain access to the deck, which carried the water, we had to climb up onto the upper tier of two immense rows of stacked arches. At the top we would find one of hundreds of manholes, but it would not be easy for fifty-something people to climb up. Instead we marched to where the aqueduct collided with a hillside: there the tunnel would continue for a short way through the land itself.

The ascent took another half an hour, owing to the temperature and having to navigate past the overgrown gorse bushes that blighted the hillside. Eventually, we all made it. Tryum stood in the far distance and the square manhole was right before us. We shuffled forward in single file, the engineers, Callimar, Leana and myself at the head of the line. A small wooden hatch, about three feet wide, covered a slightly raised square hole. The engineers opened it up with so little trouble I wondered why we needed them to come along. Soon torches were lit and brought forward.

Leana volunteered to go down first. She did not take the rope she was offered, but nimbly climbed down and dropped the couple of feet until she made it to the water deck, where she made only a shallow splash.

‘It is all right,’ she called up. ‘There is little water down here.’

Callimar followed her down using a rope; I passed him down a torch while he was halfway, and he took it inside. After Callimar, I sat up on the side, dangling my legs in, then tentatively grabbed the rope, easing myself down onto the water deck.

Inside was aged stonework, a low curved ceiling above us and beneath our feet the flat bed where the water flowed. Unsurprisingly it smelled of damp, and a thick, viscous slime coated the sides. We moved forward to give room for the others as they climbed down, many of them bringing torches with them. Soon the tunnel had filled with soldiers, the clamour echoing for some way. Callimar issued orders for silence, which was not easy for those wearing armour.

I stared at the blackness beyond, thinking of the couple of miles of this we would have to negotiate, but Leana nudged me forward, having acquired a torch of her own from one of the others.

‘Come,’ Callimar whispered. ‘It’s time you showed us around your city.’

The journey in the dark took much longer than I thought. We tried not to stumble or make too much of a noise. The darkness ahead was punctuated only by thin slivers of fading light that managed to work around the wooden manhole covers, but as dusk came we could rely only upon the torches.

A good hour into the journey, my pulse began to race: we could hear the noise of soldiers outside Tryum’s walls, or perhaps it was the noise from within Tryum; it was difficult to tell. All I knew was that we were nearing our destination, the heart of Tryum itself.

Callimar called back behind him and fifty short swords were at once unsheathed.

It took a little while until we reached the broken stonework of the aqueduct deep inside the city. There remained a shattered hole to one side and I peered through the gap up at the stars now starting to define themselves above the city. Immediately to one side was a rooftop, and down below the streets were eerily empty. Our torches were extinguished and left standing upright within the channel of the aqueduct. One by one we climbed down onto the next rooftop, jumped down onto a lower one, then down onto the street, where we immediately split into much smaller groups.

The plan was to go about the city unnoticed enacting three tasks. Twelve of us, myself and Leana included, would make our way to Optryx. Around twenty soldiers would head independently towards the gates of the city, while the remainder hung back should the first operation fail. They would then see that the gates could be set alight or bribes could be given to various members of the King’s Legion.

With spectacular professionalism, everyone disappeared into the night. Meanwhile, I regarded the streets, staring at the vacant benches outside a tavern, at the temples with their doors closed. There appeared to be so few people, and those who we passed were almost scuttling about the city with a furtive purpose, or were simply drunk.

Tryum’s silence permitted us to hear the roar of the soldiers outside. I hoped the commissioner would keep to her word, that the noise was a simple distraction and not an effort to gain entry into the city through violence.

I led the group through the Polyum district, and eventually Regallum. The huge Temple of Polla, with its torches either side of the wide staircase, was a beacon on a night like this. We hurried along under Polla’s gaze, keeping close to the walls and remaining as much as we could in shadow. A soothsayer shambled into my path and I nearly knocked her to the ground; her one eye regarded me as she let me know what she thought of me. I apologized and ran to catch up with the others.