'Who speaks?'
'Exchequer Jhered. Is that Master Stertius behind that lantern?'
'Exchequer, praise Ocetarus you are here. We have just sent messages to the Hill, asking for you,' said the harbour master.
Jhered glanced at Iliev who was chewing his lip. 'Why?'
The crowd had gone silent and Stertius realised it. He ordered his longboat make the short row back to the dockside and he invited both men to join him. They rowed back to the circle.
'When the shipwreck bells were rung, we did what we always do, get boats in the water and surround whatever is floating in. Can't afford disease. We've kept him off the wall so far but we didn't need to. He won't get out of the boat and it'll sink before long. Says he'll only talk to you. I think he's delirious.'
'Who?'
The longboat rowed into position and the answer was revealed. In the centre of the ring, a battered rowing boat sat low on the water. It was without any of its three sets of oars. Gunwales were splintered, the tiller was missing and water sloshed under the benches, collecting in the hull.
One man lay sprawled across the stern, dead probably. A second sat hunched on the centre bench, his shoulders shaking with cold, fever or emotion. Probably all three by the state of him. The remnants of a
cloak were about his shoulders. His toga was filthy brown and torn at the chest and waist. A gladius hilt jutted from the scabbard still belted on. His hands, gripping the gunwales, were red and bleeding.
'Get me over there,' said Jhered.
'My Lord Exchequer —'
'I know the risks, Master Stertius. Get me over there.'
In a few gentle strokes, they were alongside the sinking boat.
'Want me with you, Paul?' asked Iliev.
'I think you'll need to hear what he has to say if he makes any sense at all.'
With oarsmen holding the two craft together, Iliev and Jhered stepped across into the bow of the boat, sandals splashing into the chill water. The man raised his head to look at them. The first thing he did was burst into floods of tears. Jhered moved to him and pulled him into an embrace.
'It's over now, General,' he said. 'Come on, you're safe now.'
'Who is it?' hissed Iliev.
'Harkov, General of the Ascendancy guard. A very good man. This does not look promising.'
Harkov pulled back and looked at Jhered as if for the first time. He wiped tears from a face streaked with days-old blood and dirt. He was cut and bruised. His lips were thick and dry, his cheeks and eyes sunken. A leather bottle thumped onto the bench next to Jhered. Water. Harkov saw it and grabbed it, drinking furiously, spilling more than went down his throat. Fresh tears ran down his face. He dropped the bottle, wiped fingers across his mouth and stared at Jhered again.
'Exchequer, is it you?'
His voice was a rattling croak. Jhered could see his whole body was shaking. There was an impenetrable shadow behind his eyes, like his mind was shrouded.
'What's happened to you,' breathed Jhered.
'It is you, isn't it?'
'Yes, Harkov, it's me, Paul Jhered. You're home now.'
Harkov collapsed into Jhered's arms again, heaving great sobs. Jhered held the man's head to his chest, stroking his salt-crusted, matted hair to try and calm him. His cries were the only sound on the harbour now. Iliev came into Jhered's line of sight.
'We need to know what happened,' he said. 'Where he's come from.'
'I know. Give me a moment. Give him a moment.'
Eventually, Harkov calmed and Jhered eased him away, keeping hold of his shoulders. A fine soldier, a brave man, one of the bravest Jhered had met. And reduced to a shivering, terrified husk.
'Harkov, can you hear me?' Harkov nodded. His eyes, wild and blood red, searched Jhered's face. 'Can you remember what happened? Can you tell me?'
'How can there be so many? How can they have got so far?'
'Take your time, Harkov. One step at a time. From the beginning. You remember I asked you to go through Atreska.'
'Byscar. I was going to Byscar. All my men
...'
'It's all right. Byscar, yes. To deliver warnings. To get a ship to bring you back to Estorr. Home, where you are now.'
'Harban went to Gosland,' he said abruptly.
Jhered paused to take that in. 'Never mind for now. Focus. What happened to you. Harkov, we need to know, then I can take you to your wife and family.'
It didn't seem to register. Harkov was silent for a time, searching his broken mind.
'Harban went to Gosland. Gorian went thete so Harban went there. So why are there so many of them after me here?'
'Paul
...'
Iliev raised his eyebrows. 'We're getting nowhere.'
'We're doing the best we can,' said Jhered sharply. 'His eyes are gone. He barely knows where he is. Think you can do any better?'
Harkov grabbed at Jhered's sleeves. 'They marched up from Gestern. So many and they never stopped marching. The land died behind them. We had to run.' He began to rock on the bench. 'We had to run but they just followed us like dogs on a scent. We led them straight to Byscar. We couldn't stop them, we couldn't stand before them please, please, please.'
'Calm, Harkov.' Jhered kept his tone gentle. 'That's it. Take as long as you need. How many came from Gestern?'
'I couldn't count!' It was a choked shout. 'So many. Thousands. And on the boat we took
...'
Harkov began to gesture, making a snake movement with his right hand and arm.
'We hugged the coast. We tried to see into the north. Too close, too close.'
Jhered shook his head. 'What do you mean, too close?'
'A man died on the ship. Should have thrown him over then and there but we thought we were safe to say the rites of the sea on him. I went to sleep and when I awoke the dead were all over the ship.' Harkov squeezed his eyes shut at the memories and when he opened them, they were clear and full of madness. He shouted. 'I couldn't hide. I couldn't run. Five of us jumped into a boat. They came after us. We fought so long. Every time we pushed one over he swam back. Hours and hours trying to lose them but they just swam. Swam.'
His voice cracked again. He made swimming motions and his face creased.
'The ship. What happened to the ship?' asked Iliev.
'The dead are everywhere!' roared Harkov. 'They are on the sea and they swarm the land. We cannot stop them. We will all be like them. Paul, please keep them from me.'
Harkov crumpled. Jhered held him up above the water sloshing in the boat. He looked past Iliev to the longboats around them and beyond to the silence of the dockside.
'I think just about everyone heard that, don't you?'
Chapter Forty-Six
859th cycle of God, 46th day of
Genasrise
Word of Harkov's outburst on the dock was travelling almost as fast as Jhered's horse. It could never have been contained but the Shockwave was going to have a dramatic effect on the city. Confirmation of the Order's words. The dead were marching and sailing across the Conquord.
Jhered was riding with a group of ten surrounding a cart on which Harkov lay. He'd been given white mandrake and was sleeping for now. Jhered would never forget the dreadful haunting look in his eyes or the desperation to be free of the memories of his recent past.
Iliev had stayed on the dockside. He'd returned to his ship and was already ordering preparations to sail on the turn of the tide. Somewhere in the north Tirronean, a ship carrying the dead was sailing under a Conquord flag. For now Jhered had no real idea how far they could get. All intelligence so far suggested that small numbers of dead would wither quickly and on the sea that process would surely be hastened.
Mirron had said that the dead were fed directly through the earth. And the seabed was far below and they would be separated from the water by the ship's timbers. Perhaps it was those timbers that fed them now. But even so, Jhered couldn't understand how Gorian could possibly feel a single dead body and bring it back to wreak such damage on an individual vessel. Even with a Gor-Karkulas walking the shore Harkov had been sailing beside, it didn't seem credible.
The Ascendants were waiting for him when he returned.
‘I
think the problem is that we don't really know what he is capable of,' said Mirron when Jhered had related all Harkov's disjointed words. 'Perhaps he can feel every single one that dies.'
‘I
just don't see it,' said Jhered. 'How can he possibly do that? How can he know that someone has died and hence reanimate him? Our best guess is that he's hundreds of miles north, somewhere in Gosland. This happened on the Atreskan coast.'
'I don't think he does know,' said Arducius. 'I think that whenever a conflict occurs, he is informed through the Gor-Karkulas and then he creates the animation Work. It will cover a reasonable area for sure. You might well find that he was raising dead in that part of Atreska and Harkov's ship just got caught in the net, so to speak.'
Jhered nodded. 'Makes sense.'
'Does it really matter?' asked Kastenas. 'What it means is that a force far bigger than we thought is heading north and west, presumably to the Neratharn border. It could be that Davarov was wiped out completely and has been harvested by Gorian. It could be another force altogether. The point is that we need the Ascendants on that border if we are to halt them. The walls are high, wide and strong. It will take the dead a long time to breach them.'
'Agreed,' said Jhered. He looked across to the Ascendants. 'All right?'
Arducius and Mirron nodded. Ossacer shrugged.
'We have to try and take out these Gor-Karkulas,' said Ossacer. 'Not kill them but stop them working for Gorian. Not only will that reduce his strength but it'll give us a clearer indication of where he is. At the moment, I'd guess that if we tried to find him through the energies in the earth, we'd be confused by the centres of power that the Karkulas represent.'
'You want to narrow the field,' said Gesteris. 'Nice idea but how will you get close?'
'I have absolutely no idea.'
'Right.' Jhered clapped his hands together. 'We have a plan of sorts. Elise, I need you to give me as much strength as you can to defend the Hill. We need the Ascendants, plus you and me out of here on a Gatherer ship. We can follow Iliev out on the tide. Marcus, I'd like you to stay here to oversee the defence of the Hill with Arvan Vasselis.'
'Whatever you wish of me,' said Gesteris. 'You're sure we'll come under threat?'
Jhered shrugged. 'I don't know but we cannot risk it. The Armour of God may not get here, the citizens may not batter down the Victory Gates, but if the Ocetanas fail out there on the ocean, the dead will, unless we prepare. Keep your powder close and keep every catapult working.'
it'll be good to don my armour once again,' said Gesteris. His single eye shone.
'Let's not forget we are all a good deal older and slower than before,' said Jhered. 'So, one last thing. Any word from Arvan about Herine and the Chancellor?'
Elise shook her head. 'We're still waiting.'
'Well we can't wait any more. Let's get him back here. And the Advocate too. She needs to be briefed and we need to show her our unswerving support.'
The order was given and a guard hurried off to the palace.
'Anything else while we're waiting?' asked Jhered.
'What about the other Ascendants? The young strands.' Hesther was showing the strain of shouldering all their fear and uncertainty.
it's your decision ultimately, but I'd say they were safest here. There'll be plenty of military muscle and the Advocate will be in residence. Going to somewhere like Westfallen, I don't think we can guarantee that level of security,' said Kastenas.
Jhered nodded,
‘I
'd back that. And there's a duty to perform too. There are still three surviving tenth-stranders. Three emerged seventeen-year-olds who need to understand they may be called to action. Not against the people but in extremis, against the dead.'
'Then one of us should stay to organise them,' said Arducius.
'No. Ultimately, you have to find and kill Gorian. Nothing else is more important. So you have to be near to where he is, it's as simple as that.'
'And we have to get back my son from him,' said Mirron.
‘I
need you Ardu, Ossie. I can't do it without you. He's too powerful.'