Stormtide. Den Patrick

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Название Stormtide
Автор произведения Den Patrick
Жанр Сказки
Серия Ashen Torment
Издательство Сказки
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008228187



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Marek, ‘those who are too sick or troublesome, are pressed into service as envoys or spies.’

      ‘Folk like Tikhoveter,’ said Steiner, glancing over his shoulder. ‘Can we trust him?’

      Marek shrugged. ‘Who knows. But he’s our best bet right now, so we have to take that chance.’

      Steiner looked back at the townhouse and tried to feel some hope, but uncertainty carried a dread all of its own.

       CHAPTER SIX

       Kimi

      The noise could be heard a few streets away. Kimi and Marozvolk exited the blacksmith’s where they’d purchased swords.

      ‘Smoke,’ said Kimi, nodding to the pale blue sky. Dark clouds had crowded in over the city and it was just starting to rain. She set off against the flow of people who hurried past them, hurrying away from trouble. Violence had come to Svingettevei and Kimi knew in her bones it was no mere sailor’s brawl. Panic was written across the face of every person who fled down the street or cowered in a doorway.

      ‘It could just be a house fire,’ said Marozvolk. They exchanged a glance that confirmed neither of them really believed such a thing. A brisk walk became a jog and then, on some unspoken agreement, they both ran towards the sound. Kimi shouldered her way through the crowd, staring down any that blocked her way. She kept one hand on the hilt of her sword to make her intent clear. There was a wail of pain from ahead of them, cries of dismay, people calling out to each other. Most of the voices were children.

      ‘It has to be the novices,’ muttered Marozvolk.

      ‘What in the Hel is …’ Kimi got no further. Marozvolk rounded a corner and almost ran into three soldiers, lurking at the edge of the street in their black cloaks and heavy armour. No doubt the soldiers were as shocked as Kimi, trying to make sense of the unfolding chaos in Virag’s streets. A wagon was bright with fierce flames and a handful of children lay strewn on the cobbles, unmoving, bleeding or both. Mistress Kamalov and Kjellrunn stood in the centre of the street, shielding the children as best they could. The renegade Vigilant looked both severe and forbidding, while Kjellrunn was ashen with fear, her eyes wide with shock.

      ‘This is bad,’ muttered Marozvolk.

      Kimi searched for Steiner, cursing under her breath when it was clear he was nowhere to seen. ‘Where is that damn fool?’

      ‘Stand down and cease all use of the arcane this instant!’ bellowed a man’s voice. Kimi noted the speaker; he stood on the opposite side of the street, holding a short sword to a young novice’s throat. It was the Imperial Envoy they had seen earlier. Kimi gritted her teeth in frustration. She should have gone back to the ship to warn people.

      ‘He won’t do it,’ muttered Marozvolk, nodding to the Envoy.

      ‘How can you be so sure?’ whispered Kimi.

      ‘The children are more useful to them alive. Always have been.’

      A burly sergeant with a two-handed maul kicked one of the children on the ground, who cried out and curled up into a ball. Somehow the many soldiers – Kimi guessed over a dozen – hadn’t noticed the Yamili women emerge from a side street. Nor had they seen the vast cloud of birds that stared balefully from the rooftops, nor the knot of Spriggani who appeared beside the burning cart. Mistress Kamalov, Sundra and Kimi shared a nod and all the terrors of Hel descended on Virag that day.

      Mistress Kamalov reached into the sky, urging a commotion of gulls, cormorants, and gannets to dive from above, summoning them with the arcane. Her lips moved silently and she frowned in concentration. The various birds buffeted the soldiers. Individually they had no hope of harming the armoured men, but their confusion was all Kimi needed. Kimi caught the first soldier square across the back of the neck with her sword. There was a bright gout of blood as the blade cut deep, all but decapitating him. Seconds later he was an armoured corpse littering the cobbles.

      Marozvolk grabbed the nearest soldier from behind, one hand clamping over the man’s faceplate, blocking the eye slit. The soldier jerked backwards but Marozvolk pulled with all of her strength and the helm came free. Confused and off balance, the soldier had barely turned to see his attacker before Marozvolk slashed him across the throat in a bright torrent of crimson.

      ‘Worth every penny,’ said Marozvolk, hefting the new blade.

      Kjellrunn used the cover of screeching birds to circle around the soldiers and reach the Envoy. A fallen mace leapt up from the cobbles and her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t meant to use the arcane, but the weapon had come to her as if summoned. The Envoy stared in disbelief, hands shaking, face pale, as Kimi and Marozvolk carried out their grim trade of death, besting the soldiers.

      ‘Surrender your weapons at once!’ the Envoy shouted as Mistress Kamalov’s birds swooped and slashed at him with their claws. Kjellrunn closed on the Envoy with a snarl on her face. She pulled back the mace, every muscle tense for the strike to come.

      ‘You will surrender!’ shouted the Envoy in desperation.

      Sundra glowered at the scene, her eyes a dark and terrible grey. A soldier raised his mace to strike her brother, Tief, as he fought another attacker. Sundra muttered an invocation to her goddess and streaks of grey covered the soldier’s armour. The man inside the armour stiffened and became still, until with a final gasp the soldier was petrified. Tief shoved the newly formed statue, grunting a curse. The soldier fell backwards and shattered apart on the cobbles with a terrible crash. Tief snatched up the soldier’s mace and, wielding a long knife in his other hand, snuck up to a soldier attacking the children. The long knife took the soldier in the back of the leg. The soldier fell to his knees and turned just as Tief caved in his helm with three savage blows.

      Marozvolk and Kimi bludgeoned and slashed a bloody path through the soldiers, but were soon split up. Marozvolk fought to defend the many novices, while Kimi surged forward to kill the Envoy. The children, initially cowed after the loss of their friends, saw their allies fighting for them and began to rally. Trine, the dark-haired, fire-breathing novice, hurled a javelin of arcane flame, which punched through a soldier’s armour and into his chest. Another of the men was lifted into the air by a trio of Zemlya novices, only to crash to the ground seconds later. He screamed as his legs broke.

      Kimi was a dozen feet from Kjellrunn when she reached the Envoy but no matter what she did, she couldn’t find a way past the soldiers. Kimi deflected and dodged their strikes and replied with thrusts of her own, but she drew no closer.

      The Envoy still clutched at the young girl, his short sword at her throat, his hand visibly shaking. He backed away from the fight but there was no escaping Kjellrunn. Her first strike came down on his sword arm, smashing the elbow. The sword fell from the Envoy’s numb fingers and clattered on the cobbles. The second strike almost connected with the Envoy’s head, but was nothing more than a glancing blow to his temple. The young novice slipped free of his grasp and fled.

      ‘Who are you people?’ mumbled the Envoy as he staggered backwards, holding his head with both his hands. Kjellrunn didn’t answer him, but hefted the mace, making her intentions clear. The Envoy’s expression hardened before spreading his feet wide and gasping down a breath. There was a tell-tale orange glow at the Envoy’s throat that Kimi had seen before.

      ‘Kjellrunn! Get down!’ Kimi was locked in combat with another soldier a dozen feet away and had no way of reaching her. The Envoy breathed a gout of fire that engulfed Kjellrunn’s head and torso.

      ‘Kjellrunn!’ screamed Kimi. She slashed the knee of the soldier she was fighting with her blade and sprinted towards Steiner’s sister. The Envoy stared ahead in disbelief. The young woman he had immolated had not dropped to the ground in agony. Kjellrunn had barely flinched. Her blackened skin showed traces of stone beneath the scorch marks. She threw down the mace from granite hands and seized the Envoy by the throat