Midnight tides

‘There’s no time,’ he said, rising, bumping his head on the ceiling, then ducking into a hunch. ‘Bad things. I was about to go.’ He set the lantern down on the lid. ‘Couldn’t wait for you any longer. I’ve got to go.’

‘Where?’

‘It’s the Seregahl,’ he mumbled, hands wringing. ‘It’s bad.’

‘The Seregahl? The old Tarthenal gods? Ublala, what are you talking about?’

‘I have to go.’ He headed for the doorway.

‘Ublala, what about Harlest? Where are you going?’

‘The old tower.’ He was in the tunnel, his words dwindling, ‘I love you, Shurq Elalle…’

She stared at the empty doorway. Love? That sounded… final.

Shurq Elalle went to the sarcophagus and slid the lid to one side.

‘Aarrgh! Hiss! Hiss! Hiss-’

‘Stop that, Harlest!’ She batted the clawing hands away. ‘Get out of there. We have to go-’

‘Where?’ Harlest slowly sat up, practising baring his long fangs and making growling sounds.

She studied him for a moment, then said, ‘A cemetery.’

‘Oh,’ Harlest sighed, ‘that’s perfect.’

Sitting in the street, in a pool of darkening blood, the emperor of the Tiste Edur had one hand held against his face and seemed to be trying to claw his eyes out. He still screamed every now and then, a shrill, wordless release of raw anguish.

On the bridge, thirty paces distant, the Letherii soldiers were silent and motionless behind their shields. Other citizens of the city were visible along the edge of the canal on the other side, a row of onlookers, their numbers growing.

Trull Sengar felt a hand settle on his shoulder and he turned to find Uruth, her face twisted with distress.

‘Son, something must be done – he’s losing his mind-’

Udinaas, the damned slave who had become so essential, so integral to Rhulad – to the young Edur’s sanity – had vanished. And now the emperor railed, recognizing no-one, froth on his lips, his cries those of a panicked beast. ‘He must be hunted down,’ Trull said. ‘That slave.’

‘There is more-’

Hannan Mosag had moved to stand close to Rhulad, and now spoke, his words carrying easily. ‘Emperor Rhulad, hear me! This is a day of dark truths. Your slave, Udinaas, has done what we would expect of a Letherii. Their hearts are filled with treachery and they serve none but themselves. Rhulad, Udinaas has run away.’ He paused, then said, ‘From you.’

The triumph was poorly hidden as the Warlock King continued. ‘He has made himself into your white nectar, and now leaves you in pain. This is a world without faith, Emperor. Only your kin can be trusted-’

Rhulad’s head snapped up, features ravaged with hurt, a dark fire in his eyes. ‘Trusted? You, Hannan Mosag? My brothers? Mayen?’ Blood-smeared gold, matted bear fur, sword-blade threaded through bits of human meat and intestines, the emperor staggered upright, chest heaving with emotion. ‘You are all as nothing to us. Liars, cheats betrayers! All of you!’ He whipped the sword, spattering red and pinl fragments onto the cobbles and against the shins of those standing nearest him, and bared his teeth. ‘The emperor shall reflect his people,’ he rasped, an ugly grin spreading. ‘Reflect, as it must be.’

Trull saw Fear take a step forward, halting as Rhulad’s sword shot upward, the point hovering at Fear’s throat.

‘Oh no, brother, we want nothing from you. We want nothing from any of you. Except obedience. An empire must be shaped, and that shaping shall be by the emperor’s hands. Warlock King!’

‘Sire?’

The sword slid away from Fear’s throat, waved carelessly toward the soldiers blocking the bridge. ‘Get rid of them.’

Binadas among them, the K’risnan shambled forward at Hannan Mosag’s gesture. Behind them were four slaves with two large leather sacks which they dragged over the cobbles to where the K’risnan waited in a row. Noting the sacks, the Warlock King shook his head. ‘Not here, I think. Something… simpler.’ He faced the emperor. ‘A moment, sire, in which to prepare. I shall do this myself.’

Uruth tugged Trull round again. ‘It is more than just Udinaas,’ she said. ‘Mayen has escaped.’

He stared at her, not quite comprehending. ‘Escaped?’

‘We must find her…’

‘She ran away… from us? From her own people?’

‘It is the hunger, Trull. Please.’

After a moment, he pulled away, looked round until he saw a company of warriors grouped behind Theradas and Midik Buhn. Trull walked over to them.

Theradas scowled. ‘What do you want, Trull Sengar?’

‘The emperor’s mother has orders for you and your warriors, Theradas.’

His expression lost its ferocity, was replaced with uncertainty. ‘What are they?’

‘Mayen is lost, somewhere in the city. She must be found. As for Udinaas… if you see him…’

‘If we see him he will die terribly, Trull Sengar.’

He betrayed Rhulad. When I warned him… Trull glanced over at Rhulad. A return from this madness? Not likely. It was too late. ‘As you like, Theradas. Just find Mayen.’

He watched them head off, then turned and met Uruth’s eyes. She nodded.