5 A Warning at Breakfast

BREAKFAST IN THE villa kitchen was a sombre affair. Ludwole paced the room, scowling. Pole picked at his nose as he gorged on an egg, squirting yolk on his leather shirt. He placed his blackened feet on the battered table and leaned back into a wicker chair.

The wooden shutters on several windows stood open, sunlight brilliant against the whitewashed interior. A wall lizard, its hibernation interrupted, scuttled along the nearest window frame to snaffle an insect.

Threadfin hadn’t spent many hours in this villa over the years, visiting when he had to. It was a small two-storey complex of ten rooms, each with a balcony, and a ten-foot protective wall. It also possessed a dirt courtyard, a sydarag stable with no mounts of course, and two servants who Threadfin never saw and wasn’t certain existed.

This was his first morning out of bed since falling ill. He’d been too weak, and to Ludwole’s annoyance, unable to work. The crossbow and dagger had satisfied for all of five minutes. Threadfin had kept a few choice items on his person, which Felps had found, but fortunately, he’d hidden the rest.

Five days since Crawl’s warning, and nothing. I should be full dead by now, he thought with a wince.

He stared at his wooden plate. On theirs were two large duck eggs, smoked ham, and a hunk of crumbly grolg cheese. Watered wine in wooden goblets by their elbows, fresh baked bread, and olive oil to dip it in. On his was a heaping of stewed kelp, or guck as he called it, since that’s what it looked like. Whatever was in such food, it sustained him, giving him a certain vitality. He picked at a maggot on the back of his hand. He’d tried eating other types of food, but it never agreed with him. Once, he’d had to pretend. He didn’t bother anymore.

‘How’d you know this anyhow?’ snapped the veteran. Threadfin had told them about his sister. ‘You got sources other than us? I never went and gave you permission to go gettin’ other sources. We get the information and pass what we decide to you.’

‘Does it matter?’ asked Threadfin. ‘I just know.’ A feeble answer, but what could he tell them?

It was his bent, or magical talent, seeing things in puddles, mirrors, any reflective surface. He saw strange places or apparitions he didn’t understand. What he never saw, however, was his own reflection. He could also look at a mirror for hours and see nothing worth spit, not that he did that. Just in case. Those visions just snuck up on him when he least expected it. A useless gift. He’d taught himself to avoid looking at reflective surfaces, but it wasn’t always possible.

These two might’ve believed if he’d explained. Folks had odd notions about what virals could and couldn’t do. Crawl knew the truth. The prime made it his business to know everything, and then used it against folk. They’d never believe Crawl had warned him off though. Whatever was coming, the deadline was up. Either the fat fool had gotten it wrong, or Threadfin had misunderstood.

‘I am leaving,’ he announced, ‘but ... I need your help to get out of Lame.’ He had to try. He owed her that, no matter what she’d said.

‘Hah,’ said Pole. ‘He says that as if he had a choice. You go nowhere without our say, lad.’ The thief was staring at Threadfin in a manner at odds with his words. Podral Pole would stare at him, eyes not unkind, even sympathetic. Then, he would say horrible things. No, he did not understand the man and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

‘Spectrum above,’ Threadfin shot back, deciding Pole wasn’t worth the effort, ‘but you’re dense.’ The thought that this wasn’t the way to get them on side didn’t stop his tongue. ‘Isn’t it your Grim-hooded say I’m asking for? My sister is the princess, your future imperatrix. If she dies, who knows what will happen. Civil war, maybe.’

Ludwole spat. ‘Why should any o’ that mean anything to the likes o’ us? Mayhap we could get a lot richer in a war, disappear.’ He resumed stalking the long room. There were two arched doorways, both open, leading to other rooms in the villa and the main entrance.

Pole munched a piece of blue cheese. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke, spraying crumbs. ‘You’re telling me that I have choices? I can go back with you and get sent to the crushing stone, we’ll say for ... ah, past indiscretions, or choice number two and my favourite – I don’t go back, but run off to who knows where, while bounty hunters chase me and I still get killed because I abandoned you when ordered not to.’

‘Well ...’

‘Then, there’s choice number four—’

‘Three,’ interrupted Threadfin as he shovelled guck into his mouth. This was going as expected. He watched Felps stride back and forth.

‘What?’ asked Pole.

‘You meant three, you know, comes after two and all that.’ Shut up you idiot, he scolded himself. Now is not the time to get him all riled. At times, he couldn’t control himself. His mouth had gotten him into more situations than he cared for, but Pole was fun to irritate.

Ludwole halted and slammed the table with a knurled fist. ‘I got you back on side with the prime after that last mess. Did you know that a bloody paladin ordered a search for your sort inside the city? Because o’ you, we might all cark it. Worse, I’m gonna be out o’ pocket, boy, and I don’t like that.’

‘You know,’ said Threadfin with a grin, while thinking, shut up, shut up, ‘Crawl’s going to blame you two for this. After all, you got me that last job. Might be best if you just leave, right? You know how irate he gets.’

‘Four,’ Pole interrupted, with a glare for both, ‘we stay, while you run off alone, and we take the blame from Crawl.’

‘Uh, wasn’t that what I said?’

Pole laughed, though there was no humour in it. ‘All because, what, you got a bad feeling? You need to give us something, lad. We should hand you over to the prime and be done.’ He glanced at his partner. ‘I could take him right now, eh?’ He had that odd look in his eye again.

Threadfin stared at the other thief, wondering what he was up to. ‘You both know what I am. If I say I know, it’s because I know. She’s in trouble and maybe a whole lot of people along with her.’ Not that he cared about breathers, of course.

‘She is at that,’ said Ludwole. He looked at his companion for a long moment, before continuing. ‘We got word late yesterday. I’ve an eyeballer or two up at the mansion. Seems a messenger rode in like hell’s own gorgons were snappin’ at his heels and reported to the commander there. He was right out of Byrsa. Sendin’ messengers across the imperium. His darag dropped dead soon after, and that was his second mount.’ Threadfin blinked at that. Sydarags were of strong endurance, which meant the messenger had ridden both mounts for at least part of the way at full battle-speed.

‘We were goin’ to tell you later,’ he went on, ‘but short o’ it is, your father’s dead. Assassinated. A coup, I guess. Capital’s in an uproar blah, blah, blah. Word is Liviana Avitus is behind it.’

‘Aiyana?’ If his heart had worked, it would’ve thundered in his chest. As it was, he felt an ache in his middle. Avitus? His sister had been right.

Pole removed his feet from the table and sat straighter with a glance at Ludwole. He began tugging on his boots. ‘She’s missing, lad. No sign or word, not since afore your father’s ...’ He then took out a short bronze dagger and began trimming his fingernails. Why was he nervous?

‘What I want to know,’ asked Ludwole, ‘is how you knew anything? No way could you have found out. If not for my eyeballers inside, we wouldn’t have known neither. They’re keepin’ this one quiet for as long as possible, at least until they can announce a new imperator.’

‘Imperatrix,’ corrected Threadfin, wondering if he was too late. He didn’t care what they thought. ‘My sister will rule.’ Curse on that Liviana. His sister would’ve gone into hiding. Yes, she wouldn’t have let herself be taken. Icarthya held near a million people, many poor. He knew where she would’ve gone. It gave him a little time.

‘I’m leaving Lame, tonight,’ he added in a low voice, readying for the backlash. ‘I’m taking someone with me, too, and I don’t mean you bastards. A friend, although I have to find her first.’ He could’ve told them everything, but he didn’t trust them. ‘You don’t have to follow. Disappear after you get us out. Look, you know something’s wrong. Crawl hasn’t come looking like he should’ve, and ... the imperator’s gone, the same man who ordered you here in the first place. Stay or go, you know your time here is up.’

‘You know, Lud,’ said Pole with a shrug, ‘he’s got a—’

‘Quiet,’ Ludwole snapped. He moved to place his back to the wall nearest the right doorway. He slowly drew a dagger from the hide sheath on his hip. Then Threadfin heard it, hurrying footsteps, but they didn’t sound like those of a grown man. Tezcat rushed towards the open door, calling his name, that Grim-blinded mongrel on her heels.

Threadfin stood and motioned for Felps to put away his blade. The undead teenage girl entered but then halted, looking at both men with a frown.

‘Who’s this then?’ asked Pole. ‘The friend you were talking about? And what’s that doing here,’ he added, staring at the mongrel. The creature gave a series of sharp growls and stamped its staff.

He realised they didn’t recognise the girl. He’d assumed, feared, they knew of her. ‘Cat, what is it?’

‘They has killed everyone. We gotta go.’

‘Is it the prime?’ asked Ludwole.

‘What ... no, Crawl’s missing, along with a load o’ others. Greencloaks is fighting back but they’s losing.’

Pole jumped to his feet, one hand on the hilt of a long blade on his hip, the dagger in his other hand. ‘Who is it girl, and quick now, spit it out.’

‘I isn’t sure. They’s wearin’ them imperial blood-red cloaks, and none o’ them looks nice. There’s a lot of ’em. I think they’s here for you.’ She said that last to Threadfin, her dull eyes pleading. If she’d been a breather, she would’ve been crying at this point. Living girls did that.

‘Exemplars,’ whispered Threadfin. It had to happen someday, and today was someday.

‘Where are they now?’ asked Pole. He had sheathed his bronze dagger, and drawn the longer iron blade. He was frowning at Ludwole as he fingered the edge, another odd look in his eye.

Tezcat was dancing on her toes, dust flying from her shaggy hair. ‘I don’t know ... I don’t know, everywhere, I guess. They been arrestin’ and killin’ all over the place.’

The earth trembled. Wooden cups and plates rattled on the table. Dust trickled from the ceiling.

‘Damn all angels to the pit of Grim’s own bowels,’ swore Pole. ‘I’m sick of all this rattling and shaking. About time we were gone.’

Ludwole appeared to hesitate, and strangely, his partner took a step towards the old soldier, grip tightening on his weapon’s hilt. Ludwole didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps he was thinking about handing Threadfin over to them for a juicy reward. What was going on between those two?

‘They’re killing people, including Lame’s soldiers,’ said Threadfin. ‘That means they’ll kill both of you. I don’t think they’ll look well on two criminals who’ve been aiding and abetting my sort. And you can bet that’s what I’ll tell them if you give me up. Not as though the old imperator is alive to disagree.’

Threadfin noted Tezcat’s lack of surprise, telling him she’d already known. Where did she always get her information from?

Pole gave Threadfin a tight smile. ‘It looks like we’re leaving with you after all.’ Odd, but he appeared pleased.

‘Fine then, grab hold o’ him,’ the old soldier hissed and Pole obeyed, taking Threadfin by the arm. He felt glad Podral was staying. Odd that. ‘Stay put until I get back,’ Felps growled, glaring at his companion. ‘Don’t let him out o’ your sight.’

‘Where you going?’ asked Pole.

‘To see where the bastards are at. Not much good if we walk right into ’em with him, now, is it? I got to scout us the safest route. Looks like you get your wish, boy. Don’t worry, you’ll be shot o’ us soon enough.’ That last sounded more a threat than a promise.

‘We need to get out of Lame right now,’ said Threadfin, once Ludwole had gone. ‘You know I’m right.’ Would Pole try to kill him? ‘Please?’ The thief was staring at the spot where the old soldier had been a moment ago.

‘Hurry,’ pleaded Tezcat, ‘we got to go now.’ Sprog appeared agitated, whistling and growling, stamping his staff.

The other man muttered a bit, as though debating with himself. Then in a quick motion, he grabbed Threadfin’s borderlands coat from a chair, and tossed it at him. ‘Right,’ he whispered, and then muttered what sounded like another prayer. ‘Hurry on then, lad, let’s get you gone.’