Ian Irvine - Rebellion

Nonetheless, he felt that familiar gnawing in his belly. The chancellor had publicly condemned him and there was no saying he felt the way he had at Glimmering, when he had held Rix up to the world as a hero. If the chancellor was on the way out, he might feel that it was time to settle old scores, permanently.

They stared at one another for a long time. Finally the chancellor said, “Well?”

“You may take it that I’m no longer under the thrall of Grandys’ command spell,” said Rix.

“So I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?”

“The tale spread across Hightspall like a forest fire.” The chancellor’s eyes slid sideways onto Glynnie. “May I see it?” He held out his hand.

After a brief hesitation, she reached into her bag, brought out the black opal armour broken off Grandys’ nose and dropped it in the chancellor’s small, wrinkled hand. He looked down at it, then laughed until tears flooded from his eyes.

“How tall are you, Glynnie?”

“Five foot two,” she said, frowning.

“And Grandys is six foot eight.” He looked up at Rix. “It’s true then? She knocked the bastard down?”

“Glynnie got in five blows with a six-foot baulk of timber,” Rix said proudly. “Flattened his ugly nose against his bloated face, knocked him to his knees and had him howling and spitting blood.”

“Ah, thank you, thank you,” said the chancellor. “You’ve done me more good in a minute than all my healers and all their blasted potions have in a week.” He handed the piece of opal back and wiped his face. “You’ll want to keep that to show your grandchildren.”

“It wasn’t just me,” said Glynnie. “Rix fought Grandys to a standstill. He knocked out two front teeth, gave him a black eye and, but for a greasy plate underfoot, would have won. And Rix stole his horse. Don’t forget that.”

The chancellor’s lip twitched. “Did he now? Ah, that’s the icing. Well, Ricinus, you find me brought to a new low. My arm gone — ” He flapped his stump. “Half my army lost or deserted. Hope fading by the minute and, according to my spies, Lyf is already marching north to attack us. I’m in such desperate straits that I’m even prepared to enlist vagabonds, traitors and condemned shifters, so why should I baulk at a Herovian, dead-handed horse thief?”

“I don’t believe I am Herovian,” said Rix. “And I can’t say I go for their ideals.”

“Whatever! Is that what you came for — to hear that all is forgiven?”

“No,” said Rix. “ I haven’t forgiven anything. I want a commission in your army — a captain’s rank.”

“ A captain’s rank?”

“At Glimmering you sang my praises,” Rix said defensively. “You told the world how greatly my victory had improved morale.”

“Glimmering, yes,” said the chancellor, as though that had been a lifetime away. “But a captain’s rank… I’ll have to think about that.”

Rix swallowed. It did not appear as though the chancellor had forgiven anything either.

“But, surely — ?” said Glynnie.

“I said I’d think about it,” the chancellor said mildly. “In a day or two we’ll ride to Reffering. You can be sure Grandys won’t be far away, but which side will he fight on? Sit down. Eat, drink. We’re all going to die and I’ve broken out the best bottles I have. Let’s raise a glass to the end of the world.”

“I should have realised I had no talent for leadership,” said Tali as she, Tobry and Holm headed across country to the hill where they had left the horses. “Let Radl lead the Pale to war. She seems born to it.”

“Leadership is a thankless job,” said Holm. “You’re well shot of it.”

Since the land seemed empty and there was no longer any need for secrecy, they rode through the day and well into the night. The ground shook a number of times on the journey, though not in the way Tali remembered from the time, months back, when the Vomits had been building up to an eruption. Those quakes had been short, sharp jolts, quickly over. The ones she felt now were deep, rolling shudders that began gently, built up to a climax over a minute or two and slowly died away, as though the whole of Hightspall was being shaken.

“I’m worried about the circlet,” said Tali. “We should go — ”

“Shh!” said Holm. “Lyf might still have a trace on you.”

“I’ve got to do something.”

“Wherever you go, someone will see you. You’ll lead Lyf — or Grandys — to it. We’ll go back to the camp and ask the chancellor’s advice.”

“I wonder what he’s planning,” said Tali. “Do you think he’s strong enough for war?

“No,” said Holm. “What do you reckon, Tobry?”

Tobry grunted. He had barely said a word since leaving Cython, and Tali knew what ailed him. His physical decline was accelerating, his ability to hold back the shifter madness weaker every day, and he had retreated to a place where no one could reach him. That was the saddest part of all.

They arrived to find that the camp at Nyrdly had grown enormously. Tents now extended out from the ruins for half a mile, and even at this hour the lantern lights were like nets of small, bright jewels draped across the gently undulating landscape.

They were challenged three times on the way in, and each checkpoint had the same message. “You are to report to the chancellor with the utmost dispatch.”

“You’ve got a nerve, Tali,” he said when they were finally brought before him, in his quarters in the haunted ruins.

The draped canvas had been replaced with a proper tent the size of a small house, otherwise everything was as it had been when they had left. Everything except the chancellor himself. He was more hunchbacked and twisted than ever, and seemed to have shrunk.

“What do you mean?” said Tali. “Risking the master pearl in Cython? Or coming back?”

“Both.” Before Tali could respond he said, “Have you eaten? Drunk? Washed?”

“No,” said Tali. “We haven’t stopped all the way.”

It was as if the chancellor was putting off hearing their news. He called for food and wine, bowls of water and towels. They washed their faces and hands. Platters of hot meat and bread were set before them, a jug of wine and a goblet of cordial for Tali.

“I’ve heard rumours from the south,” he said, smiling and pouring the wine liberally.

“They must have flown here,” said Tali.

“They say that Cython has fallen to rebellion and its masters have abandoned it.”

“They speak truly.”

“A famous, unprecedented victory.” The chancellor went to rub his hands together, remembered he only had one, and dropped his hand, frowning.

“It changes the landscape,” said Tali.

“Rumour also says that a great army is marching north from Cython to join us. An army of small, pale folk.”

“An army, though not a great one,” said Tali.

The chancellor’s smile faded. “I heard figures of fifteen, even twenty thousand.”

“The figures are right — but only a quarter are fighters. The rest are mothers and children.”

“Five thousand? You’ve only brought me five thousand men ?”

“I haven’t brought you anyone. Radl is leading them, not me.”

“Only five thousand?” he repeated. “What’s the matter with them?”

“The Pale fought bravely for their own realm,” said Tali, “and thousands of them died for it.”

“What do you mean, their own realm ? Hightspall is their realm and it’s their duty — ”

“Give over, you bloody old fool,” snapped Holm. “Hightspall abandoned them a thousand years ago. Hightspall refused to ransom them, then blackened the Pale’s name to cover up its own betrayal. Do you think the Pale don’t know this? It’s burned into their very bones.”