Midnight Tides by Steven Erikson
‘Possibly, Preda. If only because he had dismissed my presence.’
‘And Quillas would have only himself to blame.’
Brys said nothing.
‘I should not have halted you.’
He watched her leave.
Gerun Eberict, you poor bastard.
Recalling that the Ceda wanted him, Brys swung about and strode from the chamber.
Leaving behind no blood.
And he knew that Kuru Qan would hear the relief in his every step.
****
The Ceda had been waiting outside his door, seemingly intent on practising a dance step, when Brys arrived.
‘A few fraught moments?’ Kuru Qan asked without looking up. ‘Unimportant. For now. Come.’
Fifty paces on, down stone steps, along dusty corridors, and Brys guessed at their destination. He felt his heart sinking. A place he had heard of, but one he had yet to visit. It seemed the King’s Champion was permitted to walk where a lowly Finadd was not. This time, however, the privilege was suspect.
They came to a pair of massive copper-sheathed doors. Green and rumpled with moss, they were bare of markings and showed no locking mechanism. The Ceda leaned on them and they parted with a grinding squeal.
Beyond rose narrow steps, leading to a walkway suspended knee-high above the floor by chains that reached down from the ceiling. The room was circular, and in the floor were set luminous tiles forming a spiral. The walkway ended at a platform in the chamber’s centre.
‘Trepidation, Finadd? Well deserved.’ Gesturing, Kuru Qan led Brys onto the walkway.
It swayed alarmingly.
‘The striving for balance is made manifest,’ the Ceda said, arms held out to the sides. ‘One’s steps must needs find the proper rhythm. Important, and difficult for all that there are two of us. No, do not look down upon the tiles – we are not yet ready. To the platform first. Here we are. Stand at my side, Finadd. Look with me upon the first tile of the spiral. What do you see?’
Brys studied the glowing tile. It was large, not quite square. Two spans of a spread hand in length, slightly less so in width.
The Holds. The Cedance. Kuru Qan’s chamber of divination. Throughout Letheras there were casters of the tiles, readers of the Holds. Of course, their representations were small, like flattened dice. Only the King’s Sorceror possessed tiles such as these. With ever-shifting faces. ‘I see a barrow in a yard.’
‘Ah, then you see truly. Good. An unhinged mind would reveal itself at this moment, its vision poisoned with fear and malice. Barrow, third from last among the tiles of the Azath Hold. Tell me, what do you sense from it?’
Brys frowned. ‘Restlessness.’
‘Aye. Disturbing, agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
‘But the Barrow is strong, is it not? It will not yield its claim. Yet, consider for a moment. Something is restless, there beneath that earth. And each time I have visited here in the past month, this tile has begun the spiral.’
‘Or ended it.’
Kuru Qan tilted his head. ‘Possibly. A swordsman’s mind addresses the unexpected. Important? We’ll see, won’t we? Begins, or ends. So. If the Barrow is in no danger of yielding, then why does this tile persist? Perhaps we but witness what is, whilst that restlessness promises what will be. Alarming.’
‘Ceda, have you visited the site of the Azath?’
‘I have. Both tower and grounds are unchanged. The Hold’s manifestation remains steadfast and contained. Now, drag your gaze onward, Finadd. Next?’
‘A gate, formed of a dragon’s gaping jaws.’
‘Fifth in the Hold of the Dragon. Gate. How does it relate to Barrow of the Azath? Does the Gate precede or follow? In the span of my life, this is the first time I have seen a tile of Dragon Hold in the pattern. We are witness – or shall be witness – to a momentous occasion.’
Brys glanced at the Ceda. ‘We are nearing Seventh Closure. It is momentous. The First Empire shall be reborn. King Diskanar shall be transformed – he shall ascend and assume the ancient title of First Emperor.’
Kuru Qan hugged himself. ‘The popular interpretation, aye. But the true prophecy, Finadd, is somewhat more… obscure.’
Brys was alarmed by the Ceda’s reaction. Nor had he known that the popular interpretation was other than accurate. ‘Obscure? In what way?’
‘ “The king who rules at the Seventh Closure shall be transformed and so shall become the First Emperor reborn.” Thus. Yet, questions arise. Transformed – how? And reborn – in the flesh? The First Emperor was destroyed along with the First Empire, in a distant land. Leaving the colonies here bereft. We have existed in isolation for a very long time, Finadd. Longer than you might believe.’
‘Almost seven thousand years.’
The Ceda smiled. ‘Language changes over time. Meaning twists. Mistakes compound with each transcribing. Even those stalwart sentinels of perfection – numbers – can, in a single careless moment, be profoundly altered. Shall I tell you my belief, Finadd? What would you say to my notion that some zeroes were dropped? At the beginning of this the Seventh Closure.’
Seventy thousand years? Seven hundred thousand?
‘Describe for me the next four tiles.’
Feeling slightly unbalanced, Brys forced his attention back to the floor. ‘I recognize that one. Betrayer of the Empty Hold. And the tile that follows: White Crow, of the Fulcra. The third is unknown to me. Shards of ice, one of which is upthrust from the ground and grows bright with reflected light.’
Kuru Qan sighed and nodded. ‘Seed, last of the tiles in the Hold of Ice. Another unprecedented appearance. And the fourth?’
Brys shook his head. ‘It is blank.’
‘Just so. The divination ceases. Is blocked, perhaps, by events yet to occur, by choices as yet unmade. Or, it marks the beginning, the flux that is now, this very moment. Leading to the end, which is the last tile – Barrow. Unique mystery. I am at a loss.’
‘Has anyone else seen this, Ceda? Have you discussed your impasse with anyone?’
‘The First Eunuch has been informed, Brys Beddict. To ensure that he does not walk into the Great Meeting blind to whatever portents might arise there. And now, you. Three of us, Finadd.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because you are the King’s Champion. It is your task to guard his life.’
Brys sighed. ‘He keeps sending me away.’
‘I will remind him yet again,’ Kuru Qan said. ‘He must surrender his love of solitude, or come to see no-one when he glances your way. Now, tell me what the queen incited her son to do in the old throne room.’
‘Incited? She claimed the very opposite.’
‘Unimportant. Tell me what your eyes witnessed, what your ears heard. Tell me, Brys Beddict, what your heart whispered.’
Brys stared down at the blank tile. ‘Hull may prove a problem,’ he said in a dull voice.
‘This is what your heart whispered?
‘It is.’
‘At the Great Meeting?’
He nodded.
‘How?’
‘I fear, Ceda, that he might kill Prince Quillas Diskanar.’
****
The building had once housed a carpenter’s shop on the ground floor, with a modest collection of low-ceilinged residential rooms on the upper level, reached via a drop-down staircase. The front faced out onto Quillas Canal, opposite a landing where, presumably, the carpenter had received his supplies.
Tehol Beddict walked around the spacious workshop, noting the holes in the hardwood floor where mechanisms had been fitted, hooks on walls for tools still identifiable by the faded outlines. The air still smelled of sawdust and stains, and a single worktable ran the full length of the wall to the left of the entrance. The entire front wall, he saw, was constructed with removable panels. ‘You purchased this outright?’ he asked, facing the three women who had gathered at the foot of the staircase.
‘The owner’s business was expanding,’ Shand said
‘Fronting the canal… this place was worth something…’
‘Two thousand thirds. We bought most of his furniture upstairs. Ordered a desk that was delivered last night.’ Shand waved a hand to encompass the ground level. ‘This area’s yours. I’d suggest a wall or two, leaving a corridor from the door to the stairs. That clay pipe is the kitchen drain. We knocked out the section leading to the kitchen upstairs, since we expect your servant to feed the four of us. The privy’s out in the backyard, empties into the canal. There’s also a cold shed, with a water-tight ice box big enough for a whole Nerek family to live in.’
‘A rich carpenter with time on his hands,’ Tehol said.
‘He has talent,’ Shand said, shrugging. ‘Now, follow me. The office is upstairs. We’ve things to discuss.’
‘Doesn’t sound like it,’ he replied. ‘Sounds like everything is already decided. I can imagine Bugg’s delight at the news. I hope you like figs.’
‘You could take the roof,’ Rissarh said with a sweet smile.
Tehol crossed his arms and rocked on his heels. ‘Let me see if I understand all this. You threaten to expose my terrible secrets, and then offer me some kind of partnership for some venture you haven’t even bothered describing. I can see this relationship setting deep roots, given such fertile soil.’
Shand scowled.
‘Let’s beat him senseless first,’ Hejun said.
‘It’s simple,’ Shand said, ignoring Hejun’s suggestion. ‘We have thirty thousand thirds and with it we want you to make ten.’
‘Ten thousand thirds?’
‘Ten peaks.’
Tehol stared at her. ‘Ten peaks. Ten million thirds. I see, and what precisely do you want with all that money?’
‘We want you to buy the rest of the islands.’
Tehol ran a hand through his hair and began pacing. ‘You’re insane. I started with a hundred docks and damn near killed myself making a single peak—’
‘Only because you were frivolous, Tehol Beddict. You did it inside of a year, but you only worked a day or two every month.’
‘Well, those days were murderous.’
‘Liar. You never stepped wrong. Not once. You folded in and folded out and left everyone else wallowing in your wake. And they worshipped you for it.’
‘Until you knifed them all,’ Rissarh said, her smile broadening.
‘Your skirt’s slipping,’ Hejun observed.
Tehol adjusted it. ‘It wasn’t exactly a knifing. What terrible images you conjure. I made my peak. I wasn’t the first to ever make a peak, just the fastest.’
‘With a hundred docks. Hard with a hundred levels, maybe. But docks? I made a hundred docks every three months when I was a child, picking olives and grapes. Nobody starts with docks. Nobody but you.’
‘And now we’re giving you thirty thousand thirds,’ Rissarh said. ‘Work the columns, Beddict. Ten million peaks? Why not?’
‘If you think it’s so easy why don’t you do it yourselves?’
‘We’re not that smart,’ Shand said. ‘We’re not easily distracted, either. We stumbled onto your trail and we followed it and here we are.’
‘I left no trail.’
‘Not one most could see, true. But as I said, we don’t get distracted.’
Tehol continued pacing. ‘The Merchant Tolls list Letheras’s gross at between twelve and fifteen peaks, with maybe another five buried—’
‘Is that five including your one?’
‘Mine was written off, remember.’
‘After a whole lot of pissing blood. Ten thousand curses tied to docks at the bottom of the canal, all with your name on them.’
Hejun asked in surprise, ‘Really, Shand? Maybe we should get dredging rights—’
‘Too late,’ Tehol told her. ‘Biri’s got those.’
‘Biri’s a front man,’ Shand said. ‘You’ve got those rights, Tehol. Biri may not know it but he works for you.’
‘Well, that’s a situation I’ve yet to exploit.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. Then he halted and stared at Shand. ‘There’s no way you could know that.’
‘You’re right. I guessed.’
His eyes widened. ‘You could make ten peaks, with an instinct like that, Shand.’
‘You’ve fooled everyone because you don’t make a wrong step, Tehol Beddict. They don’t think you’ve buried your peak – not any more, not after this long with you living like a rat under the docks. You’ve truly lost it. Where, nobody knows, but somewhere. That’s why they wrote off the loss, isn’t it?’
‘Money is sleight of hand,’ Tehol said, nodding. ‘Unless you’ve got diamonds in your hands. Then it’s not just an idea any more. If you want to know the cheat behind the whole game, it’s right there, lasses. Even when money’s just an idea, it has power. Only it’s not real power. Just the promise of power. But that promise is enough so long as everyone keeps pretending it’s real. Stop pretending and it all falls apart.’
‘Unless the diamonds are in your hands,’ Shand said.
‘Right. Then it’s real power.’
‘That’s what you began to suspect, isn’t it? So you went and tested it. And everything came within a stumble of falling apart.’
Tehol smiled. ‘Imagine my dismay.’
‘You weren’t dismayed,’ she said. ‘You just realized how deadly an idea could be, in the wrong hands.’
‘They’re all the wrong hands, Shand. Including mine.’
‘So you walked away.’
‘And I’m not going back. Do your worst with me. Let Hull know. Take it all down. What’s written off can be written back in. The Tolls are good at that. In fact, you’ll trigger a boom. Everyone will sigh with relief, seeing that it was all in the game after all.’
‘That’s not what we want,’ Shand said. ‘You still don’t get it. When we buy the rest of the islands, Tehol, we do it the same way you did. Ten peaks… disappearing:
‘The entire economy will collapse!’
At that the three women all nodded.
‘You’re fanatics!’
‘Even worse,’ Rissarh said, ‘we’re vengeful.’
‘You’re all half-bloods, aren’t you?’ He didn’t need their answers to that. It was obvious. Not every half-blood had to look like a half-blood. ‘Faraed, for Hejun. You two? Tarthenal?’
‘Tarthenal. Letheras destroyed us. Now, we’re going to destroy Letheras.’
‘And,’ Rissarh said, smiling again, ‘you’re going to show us how.’
‘Because you hate your own people,’ Shand said. ‘The whole rapacious, cold-blooded lot of them. We want those islands, Tehol Beddict. We know about the remnants of the tribes you delivered to the ones you bought. We know they’re hiding out there, trying to rebuild all that they had lost. But it’s not enough. Walk this city’s streets and the truth of that is plain. You did it for Hull. I had no idea he didn’t know about it – you surprised me there. You know, I think you should tell him.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he needs healing, that’s why.’
‘I can’t do that.’
Shand stepped close and settled a hand on Tehol’s shoulder. The contact left him weak-kneed, so unexpected was the sympathy. ‘You’re right, you can’t. Because we both know, it wasn’t enough.’
‘Tell him our way,’ Hejun said. ‘Tehol Beddict. Do it right this time.’
He pulled away and studied them. These three damned women. ‘It’s the Errant’s curse, that he walks down paths he’s walked before. But that trait of yours, of not getting distracted, it blinds both ways, I’m afraid.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, Shand, that Lether is about to fall – and not through my doing. Find Hull and ask him – I’m sure he’s up there, somewhere. In the north. And, you know, it’s rather amusing, how he fought so hard for your people, for every one of those tribes Lether then devoured. Because now, knowing what he
‘What makes you think so?’ Shand demanded, and he saw the disbelief in her expression.
‘Because they don’t play the game,’ he said.
‘What if you’re wrong?’
‘It’s possible. Either way, it’s going to be bloody.’
‘Then let’s make it easier for the Tiste Edur.’
‘Shand, you’re talking treason.’
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Rissarh barked a laugh. ‘You idiot. We’ve been doing that all along.’
Errant take me, she’s right. ‘I’m not convinced a host of barbaric Edur overlords will do any better.’
‘We’re not talking about what’s better,’ Shand said. ‘We’re talking about revenge. Think of Hull, of what was done to him. Do it back, Tehol.’
I don’t believe Hull would see it that way. Not quite. Not for a long, long time. ‘You realize, don’t you, that I’ve worked very hard at cultivating apathy. In fact, it seems to be bearing endless fruit.’
‘Yes, the skirt doesn’t hide much.’
‘My instincts may be a bit dull.’
‘Liar. They’ve just been lying in wait and you know it. Where do we start, Tehol Beddict?’
He sighed. ‘All right. First and foremost, we lease out this ground floor. Biri needs the storage.’
‘What about you?’
‘I happen to like my abode, and I don’t intend to leave. As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m still not playing the game. You three are the investors. So, put those damned weapons away; we’re in a far deadlier war now. There’s a family of Nerek camped outside my house. A mother and two children. Hire them as cook and runners. Then head down to the Merchant Tolls and get yourselves listed. You deal in property, construction and transportation. No other ventures. Not yet. Now, seven properties are for sale around the fifth wing of the Eternal Domicile. They’re going cheap.’
‘Because they’re sinking.’
‘Right. And we’re going to fix that. And once we’ve done that, expect a visit from the Royal Surveyor and a motley collection of hopeful architects. Ladies, prepare to get rich.’