From what Rik knew of them, they could dominate the seas but there were things they needed from the land-dwellers and trading for them would be easier. Something else stirred in his alien memories, some memory of fear of the Terrarchs. Perhaps war at sea would not be totally one-sided.
He tried probing his Quan memories. It was not easy, for the creature did not think like a human or perceive the world like one, but eventually he found something- recollections of beings that could be summoned from the beyond that might wreck even the undersea cities of the Quan, and knowledge of something else as well, that the Quan were a dying race, and that it would not take a huge effort to wipe them out.
“You drunk, mate?” enquired the sailor, licking his lips cunningly. “You look as if you’re fading.”
Rik wrenched himself out the reverie and reminded himself that this was a dangerous place for such things. He smiled at the man, and said, “I’m fine,” even as he ran his fingers over his purse to make sure it was still there. He was sure the action was not wasted on the sailor. “Another drink?”
“Aye, but I’ll buy the grog this time.”
“So you think we’ll all be able to get out of here?” Rik asked.
“Aye, they say there’s a Quan ship out there below the harbour, and the beastly things have sent representatives to the Palace to talk with her high and mightiness.”
Rik suppressed a shudder. His last encounter with the Quan had not left him keen on having any further dealings with them but he sensed that there was something important here, some shift in the balance of power. An alliance between the Quan and the Sardeans would be bad for the rest of the world. More thoughts bubbled up from the alien within him. The Quan must be certain that the Sardeans were going to win this war, and they wanted to make sure that they came out on the winning side. It looked like things must be going very badly indeed for the Taloreans.
“I heard the Reds were putting up a fight out West,” he said, just to see what sort of response this got.
The sailor showed yellowing teeth. “You’ve heard different from what I’ve heard,” he said. “I heard they’ve been showing our lads a clean pair of heels all the way back to the Talorean border. Can’t say as I blame them either. No man wants to fight against the dead.”
“You’re right there,” said Rik.
“Heard they massacred a big Scarlet army a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve done for another by now.”
“Nor would I.”
“Say what you like about the Empress’s sorcerers, they’ve found the secret of victory this time and no mistake.”
Rik nodded. He was in no position to disagree. He kept drinking and not just to blend in with the locals.
“It’s hopeless, sir, we’re never going to get away,” said Handsome Jan. He was puffing and out of breath just like most of them. Sardec could see that they were tired and could not keep this up for much longer.
It was easy enough to distance the walking dead by running. The problem was the runners got tired and the pursuers never did. The dead just kept moving: untiring, implacable, inexorable, unstoppable. Every time Sardec’s little party thought they had escaped and gave themselves the opportunity to take a rest, it was only a matter of time before the walking dead came into view once more.
They were like tireless hounds on a scent. Sardec was not sure why it had happened, why this particular group had decided to hound his people unto death, but it definitely appeared to be the case. Perhaps they were hungry. Perhaps there was something about the sight of the living that offended them but they had not given up the trail, and did not appear to want to.
“It’s never hopeless, soldier,” Sardec said. “We’ll find a way to escape them.”
“If you say so, sir,” said Handsome Jan. “Although I would be very grateful if you could tell me exactly how we are going to do that.”
Sardec grinned. Now was not the time to harangue the man for insubordination. Now was the time to encourage him to move so that he would encourage the others.
Sardec realised that he needed to encourage himself. Was there any way that they could escape? What would it take to get the walking dead off their trail? He could not think of anything. He glanced over at Weasel and the Barbarian. They came running up to him. The Barbarian was still carrying little Lorraine.
“You two, go and scout ahead. See what you can see. See if you can find a place that is defensible. I don’t think we’re going to be able to outrun these monsters. We’ll need to find a place to hold them off.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” said Weasel.
“There’s no need for you to take the girl with you,” said Sardec. “Give her to me, I’ll carry her for a little.”
The Barbarian loped off after Weasel. Sardec watched them go. He realised that in a way he had already given up hope. He knew there was no way they were going to escape. It was only going to be a case of finding a place to make their last stand.
“It’s important,” said Rik, looking around at Tamara and Asea. He did not like this place. Damp blotched the tumbled down walls. Rats scurried through the abandoned corridors. The house reminded him too much of parts of his childhood. “If the sea lanes are open again, I say we book passage out as soon as possible.”
“You’re hopeful, Rik,” said Tamara. “I doubt that any of us will be walking away after we close the Gate.”
“I prefer to plan for all possibilities, however slight,” said Rik. “If we do get in and out we will want to be able to get out of the city as quickly and safely as possible and a ship is the best and easiest way of doing that.”
“Rik’s right,” said Asea. “We can’t go in assuming its hopeless right from the start. That way lies failure. We have to assume that we will succeed and that some of us will survive. That being so, we need a means of escape although I am not sure this is the best way.”
“A ship to Harven and on from there. The free city is still technically neutral even if it is making treaties with Sardea.”
“I suppose I should remind you that the last time we visited Harven we were not exactly warmly welcomed. I am still wanted there, and the danger is even greater for you.”
She was right. The Quan were the real masters of Harven and he doubted they would welcome him, having killed one of their number. He could not see any other way though.
“I think a ship, to anywhere, it does not have to be Harven, is preferable to trying to a getaway over land. No walking dead, no Sardean troops.”
“Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?” said Tamara. “We don’t even know how we will get into the Palace yet, and already we are planning our escape.”
“I think you can help us there,” said Asea. “You know the layout of the Palace and the secret ways of getting us in.”
“Rik and I can get in easily enough by shadow-walking,” said Tamara. “I don’t know about you. And once we are in we will need to break into the vaults and find the Black Mirror.”
“There are postern gates leading into the vaults from the outer walls of the Palace. They lie on the external cliff walls. At least there once were,” Asea said.
“They are still there, as far as I know, but they will be guarded. You still have not said how we will find the Black Mirror.”
“It will not be difficult to detect once we are within the wards of the Palace walls. Its power will make it easy enough to find.”
Asea looked at Tamara. “You will prepare maps of the Palace. I can compare them to what I remember.”
She turned to Rik. “Once those are done you will plan how to get us into the heart of the place. I trust you have not lost your old skills?”
“If there are ordinary locks I can open them,” he said. “What about Karim?”
“Once he has helped me to the postern gate, he should go. There is nothing he can do to help us once we are inside the walls. He can wait for us outside the gates in case we make our getaway that way. If we do not join him within a day, he can make his way back to the West. I will write him a mandate of freedom before we set out.”