“Three quarters? Serrin are so cheap.”
“Only because humans fleece us so often.”
“Besides, a priest?” Sasha said as the implications of that began to sink in. “Why?”
“Who better to supervise a holy war than a priest?” Errollyn said.
“You think the priesthood has that much control over the preparations for war?”
“Moral guidance,” said Errollyn, staring at the figures on the dock. They'd stopped at the beginning of the pier and were discussing something. Their hands barely moved as they spoke, so they were in relative agreement. When Torovans were agitated, their hands waved around a lot. “Steiner provides the money and trade, the dukes and your father provide the men, and the priesthood provides the moral justification.”
“And puts the fear of eternal damnation into them,” Sasha murmured.
“Exactly.” Errollyn moved against her back, and that was an interesting sensation too. “Someone's coming.” A soldier jogged across the dock to Symon and the hooded man, and murmured something in Symon's ear. The hooded man turned to look about as they spoke…and even Sasha could see the torchlight catch the black robes beneath his cloak, and the glint of something large and gold about his neck. “You owe me three quarters,” said Errollyn.
“I don't recall agreeing to that bet,” Sasha said.
“Humans are so cheap.”
“Only because serrin keep screwing us all the time,” Sasha retorted.
“You wish,” said Errollyn, with a playful pat at her hip.
“So who sent him?” Sasha wondered. “The archbishop?”
“Perhaps,” said Errollyn. “Though the priesthood has factions too.”
“Everyone in Petrodor has fucking factions,” Sasha muttered in Lenay. She only realised then that they'd been whispering in Saalsi. “I bet even Mari's crabs have fucking factions.”
“The nippers against the biters?” Errollyn seemed amused at the concept. “Do you think crabs frame political arguments in terms of steps forward and steps backward, given they all walk sideways?”
Sasha tried to give him an incredulous gaze over her shoulder, but found it difficult in that position. “You're crazy,” she told him.
“And you're lying beneath me,” said Errollyn. “What does that make you?”
“Female,” Sasha nearly replied, but refrained. “Trapped,” she said instead. Errollyn muffled a laugh in her hair. Sasha nearly missed the look that Symon Steiner gave to one of his men. She stared as the man pulled something from his belt. Errollyn stiffened. “Oh no,” she murmured, aghast.
The garrotte encircled the priest's neck from behind, and tightened. The man flailed, frantically. Sasha could nearly see it, that horrified instant when he realised that he was about to die, and nothing in all the world could stop it. A priest had his gods. A priest should not have feared death. Yet he flailed and kicked all the same. And, sinking to his knees, was finally still.
Men set about stripping the body. Symon Steiner went to talk to another man, with some urgency. With large piles of crates to either side, there was no chance of the dockfront men having seen.
“What just happened?” Sasha asked.
“I'm just a poor serrin lost in the woods,” said Errollyn. “Don't ask me.” He sounded edgy. His body, once warm and comfortable, now felt tense and hard against her. No serrin had killed another for over a thousand years. A cold chill flushed Sasha's skin as she glimpsed a very familiar human phenomenon through serrin eyes. It scared her.
“Why do you like us?”
“I like you,” Errollyn corrected tautly, watching the limp white body emerge from the priest's robes on the dock. Sasha felt both warm and cold at the same time.
From off to the left, amongst the jumble of slum roofs, there came a yell. Then another and a clashing of metal…not weapons, Sasha thought, but a duller steel.
“That's a signal,” Sasha muttered. “Let's go.” Caution abandoned, she slid onto the rooftop ridge and ran at a crouch away from the river. On the slum side of the warehouse, she peered down on the opposing street. Dark shapes ran through the shadows, carrying weapons. They were heading downriver, toward Kessligh and the Nasi-Keth. “Shit.”
“Mudfoots,” said Errollyn. “Looks like an ambush.”
It didn't make sense…the riverside gangs usually didn't care if Nasi-Keth, serrin or the families came sneaking around their territory, so long as they were only intent on killing each other. But she didn't have time to ponder that now. “Let's get down there.”
“Wait.” Errollyn pulled a roof tile aside and made a hole. He pulled a ceramic cylinder half the length of his forearm from a belt pouch Sasha hadn't even realised he'd been wearing. He gave it a good shake, then threw it hard down through the hole. There was a blinding white flash, then a whoosh of yellow flame. The white light faded, but the flame remained, and grew. “Go,” said Errollyn.
Sasha slithered down the roof. There were no guards at the mouth of the alley below. Now she heard the yells and screams of battle. The mudfoots had run into one of Kessligh's perimeter traps, and the ambushers had become the ambushed.
Sasha found a toehold on the plank wall and began to climb. She was halfway down when a running shadow on the street paused. Then stopped and came over, staring upward. Sasha swore beneath her breath and prepared to drop the remaining distance. From above came a heavy thump, like the high note of a big, Lenay bassyrn drum. A projectile buzzed and the dark figure staggered backward, clutched at his shoulder, then fell and began screaming with pain.
Sasha found several more fast hand and footholds, then dropped the remaining distance and drew her blade. Above, Errollyn was descending…he dropped his bow for her to catch, which she did one-handed. She pressed herself to the wall, peering out at the street. There were lights appearing amidst the ramshackle huts opposite and raised voices. The whole of Riverside seemed to be waking up.
Two men and a woman came to check on the screaming man, one holding a burning torch. “Come on!” Sasha muttered beneath her breath as Errollyn descended. Errollyn should have shot to kill. But then, she could hardly blame him. Several more runners came along the street, and paused. Looked at the arrow wound, and then looked about, staring up at the surrounding rooftops. There was no way out down the other end of the alley, Sasha realised. That way was the docks and family soldiers. If it was a fight, the odds against the mudfoots were far better.
Errollyn dropped to the ground beside her, took his bow from her hand, and said, “Let's go. I'll cover us, I don't think they'll have any archers.”
One saving grace-bows were expensive in a big city where good wood was rare, and all expensive things were rare in Riverside. They ran out together, Sasha in the lead. For a moment, their emergence met with no response. Then a yell from behind. Errollyn spun, an arrow from his hip quiver abruptly on his string, even moving backward. The pursuers flinched, breaking away in fear…one charged and Errollyn's bow thumped. The man spun like a top, knocked clean off his feet, a shaft through his shoulder. Errollyn had another arrow on his string almost immediately and the pursuers fled for the cover of walls.
Sasha slowed to let him catch up, more shadows fleeing their approach. Further ahead was a confusion of running, shouting, hand-waving men amidst a dancing chaos of light and shadow. They seemed to be departing away from the river, and now there were large numbers of men running straight toward the crowd, from the far end of the road. They'd been outflanked, Sasha realised in that instant, the primary escape route downriver had been blocked. It would take a very large number of men to do that. The mission was well and truly off; escape now the only path left, and the only way was south, straight through the swarming, stinking, angry slum.
Sasha turned right and ducked into a dingy alleyway. It was nearly too dark to see and she stumbled over some debris before her eyes adjusted. A dog fled, barking madly, as the alley wound back and forth between squalid dwellings and piled refuse. A girl screamed in fear from a doorway as they ran past. Ahead, Sasha could hear fighting…although it seemed to be coming from many locations. The alley joined another, became larger, and Sasha paused, crouching by a wall that stank of urine.
Footsteps and shouting came past, very close. Sasha wiped sweat from her eyes, staring furiously into the dark. They could be ambushed around any corner…Errollyn covered the way they'd come with his bow. She briefly considered letting him lead, considering his eyesight, but then thought better of it. Whoever ran into a mudfoot in the dark had better be holding something sharp. Her breath was coming in hard gasps. There was no room, no light and no fresh air.
A little boy ran from a doorway not five paces away, stopped, and then stared at her. He was ragged, his hair a mess, and there were sores about his mouth. Sasha moved past him, Errollyn following, and the boy just stared at them dumbly. Another bend, and a darker patch of shadow…she stepped in some foul water, then froze to see some men gathered ahead in a patch of light. Their weapons were rough-rusty knives, some clubs with nails or spikes, an improvised spear. Crude, but effective enough at close quarters.
Movement behind the wall at her right caught her ear, and she stepped back a little…then dived as a spear thrust came fast through a gap in the wall, fending with one arm. Ahead, the men saw and yelled. Errollyn shot one as Sasha raced back past him, her forearm stinging. They ran toward the little boy once more, his mother emerged to grab him and screamed…Sasha saw a narrower alley to the left and took it, Errollyn in close pursuit.
“Keep right!” he shouted, and she hugged the right wall, missing some obstacle she could barely see in the gloom. The alley's end was blocked so she darted through an open door, to the horror of residents-a pregnant woman clutching a sickly infant, an old man lying on a dirty blanket on a bare dirt floor, a small fire for light and the air thick with smoke. In the adjoining room, a huddled family leapt screaming for the walls. Sasha hurdled their little fire, spying a doorway beyond, and went through it. Rats scurried in the lane, squealing as she passed, and into a wider alley.
Several men ran by, then halted at the sight of her. They were ragged and dirty like the rest, but better armed. One had a long staff, with a rusty blade jammed in the end, another held a genuine sword.
Sasha moved before they could decide what to do, cutting the man's staff clean in two. He stumbled and another tried to dart past, but she slashed his arm and he fell, clutching a shallow wound. The big man swung his sword, but his terrible technique was made worse by his panicked fury…she knocked it aside, kicked him in the groin, then cracked his skull with the hilt.
The others ran, but now there were rocks flying past-someone behind her was throwing stones. She made another turn and ran, desperately trying to recall her bearings…a woman ahead fell to the ground and covered her head, Sasha simply hurdled her. “Which way?” she yelled to Errollyn.
“Next left,” he said, close behind. He knew cities better than she did. She'd always thought her sense of direction excellent, but now she had no idea which way she was going.
She took the left and realised that somewhere near, something large was burning. Light danced on rooftops and shadows wavered. There were many voices yelling. And fighting, very near.
Peering about the next intersection, she found trouble. Three fighters, clearly Nasi-Keth, were trying to move down the alley. At least twelve mudfoots pursued. Two Nasi-Keth turned to slash at their pursuers, keeping them back, the third coming ahead…and now, three more mudfoots emerged from a door between Sasha and the Nasi-Keth. The twelve charged, emboldened. Sasha ran. Errollyn shot one of the near three in the back, the arrow hissing past Sasha's ear.
One of the remaining two did not notice-wielding a big axe in fury. His Nasi-Keth opponent was small and not particularly good, awkwardly dodging one blow, barely parrying a second. The second man noted his companion's fall, and spun about, his club raised. Sasha feinted left, sprang right and slashed him across the middle. The axeman disarmed his opponent with a slashing blow and aimed the next to kill, only for Sasha to drive her blade through his middle before the axe could fall.