The lie stands alone, the solitary deceit with its back turned no matter the direction of your reluctant approach, and with each step your goal is driven on, your stride carried astray, the path enfolding upon itself, round and round you walk and what stood alone before you, errant as mischance, an accidental utterance, now reveals its legion of children, this mass seething in threads and knots and surrounded, you cannot draw breath, cannot move.
The world is of your making and one day, my friend, you will stand alone amidst a sea of dead, the purchasing of your words all about you and the wind will laugh you a new path into unending torment-the solitary deceit is its solitude, the lie is the lie standing alone, the threads and knots of the multitude tighten in righteous judgement with which you once so freely strangled every truthsayer, every voice of dissent.
So now ease your thirst on my sympathy and die parched in the wasteland.
Chapter One
Two forces, once in vicious opposition, now found themselves virtual bedmates, although neither could decide which of them had their legs pried open first. The simple facts are these: the original hierarchical structure of the Tiste Edur tribes proved well-suited to the Letherii system of power through wealth. The Edur became the crown, settling easy upon the bloated gluttony of Lether, but does a crown possess will? Does the wearer buckle beneath its burden? Another truth is now, in hindsight, self-evident. As seamless as this merging seemed to be, a more subtle, far deadlier conjoining occurred below the surface: that of the specific flaws within each system, and this blending was to prove a most volatile brew.
‘Where is this one from?’
Tanal Yathvanar watched the Invigilator slowly rotating the strange object in his pudgy hands, the onyx stones in the many rings on the short fingers glimmering in the shafts of sunlight that reached in through the opened window. The object Karos Invictad manipulated was a misshapen collection of bronze pins, the ends bent into loops that were twisted about one another to form a stiff cage. ‘Bluerose, I believe, sir,’ Tanal replied. ‘One of Senorbo’s. The average duration for solving it is three days, although the record is just under two-’
‘Who?’ Karos demanded, glancing up from where he sat behind his desk.
‘A Tarthenal half-blood, if you can believe that, sir. Here in Letheras. The man is reputedly a simpleton, yet possesses a natural talent for solving puzzles.’
‘And the challenge is to slide the pins into a con-figuration to create a sudden collapse.’
‘Yes sir. It flattens out. From what I have heard the precise number of manipulations is-’
‘No, Tanal, do not tell me. You should know better.’ The Invigilator, commander of the Patriotists, set the object down. ‘Thank you for the gift. Now,’ a brief smile, ‘have we inconvenienced Bruthen Trana long enough, do you think?’ Karos rose, paused to adjust his crimson silks-the only colour and the only material he ever wore-then collected the short sceptre he had made his official symbol of office, black bloodwood from the Edur homeland with silver caps studded in polished onyx stones, and gestured with it in the direction of the door.
Tanal bowed then led the way out into the corridor, to the broad stairs where they descended to the main floor, then strode through the double doors and out into the compound.
The row of prisoners had been positioned in full sunlight, near the west wall of the enclosure. They had been taken from their cells a bell before dawn and it was now shortly past midday. Lack of water and food, and this morning’s searing heat, combined with brutal sessions of questioning over the past week, had resulted in more than half of the eighteen detainees losing consciousness.
Tanal saw the Invigilator’s frown upon seeing the motionless bodies collapsed in their chains.
The Tiste Edur liaison, Bruthen Trana of the Den-Ratha tribe, was standing in the shade, more or less across from the prisoners, and the tall, silent figure slowly turned as Tanal and Karos approached.
‘Bruthen Trana, most welcome,’ said Karos Invictad. ‘You are well?’
‘Let us proceed, Invigilator,’ the grey-skinned warrior said.
‘At once. If you will accompany me, we can survey each prisoner assembled here. The specific cases-’
‘I have no interest in approaching them any closer than I am now,’ Bruthen said. ‘They are fouled in their own wastes and there is scant breeze in this enclosure.’
Karos smiled. ‘I understand, Bruthen.’ He leaned his sceptre against a shoulder then faced the row of detainees. ‘We need not approach, as you say. I will begin with the one to the far left, then-’
‘Unconscious or dead?’
‘Well, at this distance, who can say?’
Noting the Edur’s scowl, Tanal bowed to Bruthen and Karos and walked the fifteen paces to the line. He crouched to examine the prone figure, then straightened. ‘He lives.’
‘Then awaken him!’ Karos commanded. His voice, when raised, became shrill, enough to make a foolish listener wince-foolish, that is, if the Invigilator was witness to that instinctive reaction. Such careless errors happened but once.
Tanal kicked at the prisoner until the man managed a dry, rasping sob. ‘On your feet, traitor,’ Tanal said in a quiet tone. ‘The Invigilator demands it. Stand, or I will begin breaking bones in that pathetic sack you call a body.’
He watched as the prisoner struggled upright.
‘Water, please-’
‘Not another word from you. Straighten up, face your crimes. You are Letherii, aren’t you? Show our Edur guest the meaning of that.’
Tanal then made his way back to Karos and Bruthen.
The Invigilator had begun speaking. ‘… known associations with dissenting elements in the Physicians’ College-he has admitted as much. Although no specific crimes can be laid at this man’s feet, it is clear that-’
‘The next one,’ Bruthen Trana cut in.
Karos closed his mouth, then smiled without showing his ‘ teeth. ‘Of course. The next is a poet, who wrote and distributed a call for revolution. He denies nothing and indeed, you can see his stoic defiance even from here.’
‘And the one beside him?’
‘The proprietor of an inn, the tavern of which was frequented by undesirable elements-disenchanted soldiers, in fact-and two of them are among these detainees. We were informed of the sedition by an honourable whore-’
‘Honourable whore, Invigilator?’ The Edur half smiled.
Karos blinked. ‘Why, yes, Bruthen Trana.’
‘Because she informed on an innkeeper.’
‘An innkeeper engaged in treason-’
‘Demanding too high a cut of her earnings, more likely. Go on, and please, keep your descriptions of the crimes brief.’
‘Of course,’ Karos Invictad said, the sceptre gently tapping on his soft shoulder, like a baton measuring a slow march.
Tanal, standing at his commander’s side, remained at attention whilst the Invigilator resumed his report of the specific transgressions of these Letherii. The eighteen prisoners were fair representations of the more than three hundred chained in cells below ground. A decent number of arrests for this week, Tanal reflected. And for the most egregious traitors among them waited the Drownings. Of the three hundred and twenty or so, a third were destined to walk the canal bottom, burdened beneath crushing I weights. Bookmakers were complaining these days, since no-one ever survived the ordeal any more. Of course, they did not complain too loudly, since the true agitators among them risked their own Drowning-it had taken but a few of those early on to mute the protestations among the rest.