The Evermen Saga 01 - Enchantress (11 page)

Legasa took up the dialogue. "We tracked the thief for a time before he vanished completely. He went east."

"To Torakon?" said Tessolar.

"That way, yes. But he could have been heading for Tingara. As we speak our Lexicon could be somewhere in Seranthia. The High Animator is investigating."

"How long has it been?" Devon spoke.

"Over a week," said the High Animator. There were gasps from around the chamber. "I renewed our Lexicon not long before the theft, but in time, our magic will fade."

"May I offer you the support of some of our men — perhaps a few of our bladesingers could help get some tongues moving?" said Tessolar.

"Your offer is appreciated. However we will not require your assistance at this stage."

"Money," said Captain Sloan.

All eyes turned to the reticent guard captain. "I’m sorry, captain?" said Tessolar.

Captain Sloan faltered, and then spoke up. "Fear will only get you so far in Seranthia. You need plenty of money. Offer the right sum for knowledge leading to the whereabouts of the Halrana Lexicon and word will get out. There’s a chance you’ll get your results."

"I don’t think..." Devon began.

Legasa held up his hand. "An excellent piece of advice, Captain. We will see to it."

"Do you think this is in any way connected to Emperor Xenovere’s reasons for calling the Chorum?" Tessolar said.

Legasa nodded. "It could be. At any rate we will know tomorrow."

"What about the Primate? Have you spoken with anyone from the Assembly of Templars?"

Legasa shook his head. "Melovar Aspen seems too interested in his relics of late. He declined a meeting."

"High Lord Legasa, I need to know," Tessolar said delicately. "Does this affect our stance?"

"I’m afraid it does. We need to swiftly increase our presence, before our runes fade and we are seriously weakened."

The Alturan leader’s eyes darkened, and Miro felt the tension in the room grow. He became very aware of the glistening black golems, still motionless but coiled with pent up power. "I fear we might be taking actions that offend…"

"We are dealing with uncertainty, High Lord Tessolar, but above all we must be decisive. We once said that with the Ring Forts again under our control we could build alliances and do something about our pitiful essence ration. With this setback, we need to move faster than we might wish. The Emperor needs to be challenged, and we are the
raja
the other houses are looking to for leadership. I have assurances from High Lord Dimitri of Vezna, and while the Petryans, as always, are an unknown, I believe the Louans and the Primate will support us against the growing power of Raj Tingara."

Tessolar licked his lips. "Yes, but we must be careful to avoid confrontation."

Legasa’s eyebrows grew closer, "You want to avoid confrontation? What about us? We lost more blood than you in the Rebellion!"

"It was your war!" said Devon.

His ruler silenced him with an angry glare. "It was a just war," said Tessolar. "You called and we supported you. And some still say the day may have been ours. I am not one of those people."

Miro grew cold. He avoided sharing glances with the other soldiers.

"We have been biding our time at your request, gathering our strength," said Legasa. "Now the Emperor has called a Chorum. We cannot afford to let him grow in power."

"We will fight," Tessolar bit the words off. "But first you need to find your Lexicon."

"This discussion is over," said High Lord Legasa standing up. His lords stood beside him; the Alturan lords reluctantly followed suit. "We will reconvene after the Chorum."

Shaking his head, High Lord Tessolar led his men from the room.

9

Yes, most of the relics are here in Stonewater, but I know of many that are being held by the houses. Shouldn’t they be here, where they belong?

— Primate Melovar Aspen to High Templar Saryah, 540 Y.E.

T
UOK
found Miro preparing for bed.

"We’ve got the night off," said Tuok with a wicked grin.

Miro paused midway between pulling off his boots.

"But if you’d rather stay here with the merchants, that’s fine with me. Perhaps you can find some work selling nightlamps to old women, young lord."

Miro grinned back, "The whole night?"

"The whole night. And most of tomorrow, too."

"Doesn’t the High Lord need us?"

"Tomorrow’s the Chorum, lad. The Chorum is under the Primate’s protection, and so are the market houses; it’s the one thing that remains inviolate. Good news for us?"

"Good news for us," Miro echoed, punching Tuok in the arm.

Tuok punched him back. Miro chuckled, unable to hold back a grimace of pain.

Tuok left the room laughing. When he was sure Miro wasn’t watching he rubbed at his arm. Lord of the Sky, the boy didn’t know his own strength!

~

T
UOK
took Miro to an area called the Tenamet, assuring Miro it would be the best place to see what he called "the real Seranthia".

They first passed through a wealthy neighbourhood called Fortune, where the merchants who worked at the market houses had their manses. Miro couldn’t believe the size of the manors. Nothing like the Crystal Palace, of course. But these weren’t even lords — they were just men who sold wares in markets!

From Fortune to the Tenamet was a surprisingly short distance. The manses gave way to a sparse area spotted here and there with rectangular storage buildings. There were few people walking the streets here, and those there were seemed like the kind Miro was in no hurry to meet. At one point Tuok grabbed Miro by the shoulder and forcibly crossed him to the other side of the road.

"What—" Miro said. He then noticed the twisted expression of the man who had been walking towards them. The man held a club of some sort and was cursing as he strode purposefully on the path, beating the walls with his club as he went.

His cursing rose in intensity as he passed Miro and Tuok on the other side of the road.

"Ignore him," Tuok muttered.

The man shook his fist at them and continued walking.

"Redberry," said Tuok. "Never cross a man on redberry."

"Was he in pain?" Miro said.

"Far from it, in his own mind he was probably having the time of his life."

Miro shook his head.

The frequency of other passers-by began to increase.

"Are we late?" Miro asked. "I’m guessing most people will have gone home, given the hour."

Tuok snorted. "In Seranthia the celebrations don’t really kick off until after midnight."

"After midnight? When do they finish?"

"Dawn. Sometimes after dawn. Sometimes through the next day. And because tomorrow is the Chorum and there are newcomers in the city, I’m thinking there’ll be more revellers out than usual."

A party of young men walked past, swaggering and pointing things out to each other, laughing raucously. They seemed to find Miro hilarious. One of them tugged on his simple jerkin. Miro frowned.

"Don’t worry about them," Tuok said.

Miro turned at a scuffle in an alleyway nearby. A fat man had a young woman by the hair, pulling her down to the ground. She screamed as he twisted her arm behind her back and lifted her skirt above her waist, displaying a pair of white buttocks.

"Help! Please, help me!" she cried.

Before Miro could react, Tuok gripped him by the arm and walked with him away from the alleyway. The woman’s cries followed them.

Miro pulled away from Tuok angrily. "What? You can’t tell me you didn’t see that! He was—"

"Miro, you take one step into that alleyway and four of his mates will step out of the shadows and you’d be dead. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book."

"You can’t be serious."

"I am serious. She’d probably be the first to slit your throat. It was a set up, Miro."

"You think…" Miro bit the words off.

"I’m sure of it."

"But what if it wasn’t? What if we just walked away from someone in trouble, serious trouble?"

"Trust me, Miro. It was a set-up."

"But what if it wasn’t!"

Tuok sighed. "If it wasn’t, then she should have known better than to get herself into that situation. A woman shouldn’t be out without company, not in Seranthia, and especially not anywhere near the Tenamet. Miro, if I was in Altura, or Halaran, or any of a number of other nations, I would be there in a flash. But not in Tingara. And especially not in Seranthia."

"I don’t understand, why doesn’t the Emperor do something?"

"It’s the way of the people here. What would you advise the Emperor to do?"

Tuok stepped over a comatose body on the ground. Miro put his hand to his nose as the smell of faeces and vomit rose from the prone figure.

"Make some laws!"

They entered the Tenamet proper now. Miro had never seen so many bars, saloons, taverns, gambling houses, food stalls, beer halls, and other places less readily categorised. The sounds, sights and smells were an assault on the senses. Music, singing, talking and cheering echoed around the streets.

"What kind of laws?"

"I don’t know. What kind of laws do they have now?"

Tuok chuckled. "In Tingara? None really. It’s punishable by death to insult the Emperor or the Primate. Denigrating the Evermen on one of the holy days results in a public flogging. All business with the
raja
must be conducted in the market houses — it’s illegal to sell goods or services involving lore anywhere else in Seranthia. Possession of essence will see all your possessions taken and have you thrown out of the city. Distribution of essence will see you and your entire family executed. Other than that, no laws."

"What about murder?"

"If the person murdered had rich or powerful friends or family, one of the streetclans will see justice done. If not, nothing."

"The streetclans?"

"They act for the businesses that can’t afford their own guards. They provide a loose set of rules and protect those too small to protect themselves. They charge for the service, of course. The number of clans changes all the time but last I heard the Melin Tortho were dominant."

"At least there’s someone to keep order," Miro grumbled.

Tuok barked a laugh. "Sometimes the streetclans are worst of all. They’re a law unto themselves; the Emperor lets them be so long as they don’t interfere with areas like Fortune or the Imperial Quarter. They have terrible wars when one clan seeks expansion into another’s territory. The winner wins protection rights for all the businesses in the new area; the losing clan is broken up and absorbed by the other clans — the survivors at least."

Miro frowned for a minute.

"So why does the Emperor let the clans run things?"

"How would you do it?"

"Well, to start with I would make new laws to make crimes like murder illegal."

"And how would you enforce the laws?"

"With soldiers like you and me."

"And who would pay the soldiers?"

"The Emperor, of course."

"And where would the money come from?"

"From taxes."

"I see. And who would you tax?"

"People like the merchants who had those great houses in Fortune. Anyone wishing to do business in Seranthia must pay a tax."

"And what if the merchants decided they would simply do business outside Seranthia? Put up stalls outside the walls?"

"I wouldn’t let them."

"So you would make that against the law? And enforce this law also with your new soldiers?"

"I guess," said Miro.

"And if they left Tingara altogether? Would you go to war against the country that harbours the merchants who used to live so happily in your city?"

"Hmm. I see what you mean," Miro sighed.

"Don’t worry, Miro. To me, you’re making sense. But the people here have a great distrust in what they see as intervention from the Emperor — new taxes, more soldiers, trade laws."

"Even if the laws are protecting people? Stopping people from getting murdered, or swindled?"

"That’s right."

"It’s a strange place."

"That it is, young lord. That it is."

They rounded a corner, past a motley group of women who called out and tugged on the clothes of whoever passed by. One of them tried encircling Miro in her arms. Close up he could see she had a nasty rash on her neck. Another of the women itched incessantly.

"Get away!" Miro pushed the woman.

"You’re catching on," Tuok chuckled. "Don’t ever touch one of the street whores, not if you’ve spent the last five years at sea with only fish for company. No, there are far finer establishments where the company of a beautiful woman can be had, for the right price. Or even just a refreshing beverage after a hard day’s work."

Tuok stopped to sweep his arms grandly at the building in front of them. A hanging wooden sign proclaimed it the
Gilded Remedy
. An attempt at the fluted and intricate style of Seranthia’s classical architecture had been badly botched, with pockmarked columns and an upper level that leaned heavily on the building beside it. The second ‘e’ in ‘Remedy’ was missing.

Miro grinned. "A mug or two of cherl could definitely be in order."

"Cherl! We can do better than that."

Miro followed Tuok into the bar.

Miro could barely see through the smoke. The bar was terribly crowded, the combined body heat hitting him like a wall. The gentle murmur of conversation he’d heard from outside became a roaring din as he passed through the swinging door and the acrid stench of sweat and stale beer assaulted him.

Miro followed Tuok through the crowd and over to the bar, Miro looking appreciatively at the bartender, a young girl perhaps his age, with flowing brown hair curling past her shoulders. Her bodice was laced up tightly over her breasts and her pleated skirt showed the swelling rise of her hips, stopping well above her knees.

Tuok yelled something at her, Miro didn’t hear what, and in a moment Tuok turned to Miro, grinning and holding two tiny glasses.