Tetrarch

'Shh!' he said.

'But -' Nish began.

'Wait!'

Nish peered through the crack. The rattle of drums came closer and shortly a squad of guards passed by. Two of them kicked open the door of a hut and stormed inside. Dragging an elderly man from the hovel, they began beating him about the back and body with their sticks. 'Get to work, you lazy swine! No work, no eat!'

The other soldier made a mark on his slate. They proceeded to the next hut, and the one after, all the way down the line. The old man reeled off in the other direction.

'What is this place?' Nish asked. It was all too much to take in.

'It's supposed to be a refugee camp,' said the boy. 'It's really a slave city. We work fourteen hours a day, every day of the week, and all we get for it is pig swill.' The boy seemed older than his years. No doubt kids grew up quickly here, those that survived.

A hundred questions swirled in his head but Nish was too dazed to ask them. 'My name is Cryl-Nish Hlar, son of Jal-Nish Hlar. He is the perquisitor for Einunar.' It could not hurt to establish that at the beginning.

'A perquisitor!' whispered the boy.

'I'm just an artificer. I fix weapons, and clankers.'

The boy seemed, if anything, even more impressed. 'Back home, I used to watch the clankers go by. I always wanted to ride up on top with the shooter. Can you get me a ride?'

'I will, when I get out of here. You can call me Nish, if you like.' He held out his hand, forgetting the burn.

'I'm Colm,' said the boy, squeezing hard. A blister popped and Nish winced. 'My home was in Bannador, but I have no home any more.'

'Where's Bannador?' Nish asked.

'Across the sea; in the mountains.'

'What sea?' Nish had no idea where he was.

'The Sea of Thurkad, of course,' the boy said scornfully. 'Don't you know anything?'

'I come from a long way away.'

'Where are you from?'

'Einunar.'

'Never heard of it.'

'It's on the other side of the world. So this camp is near the sea?'

Colm pointed. 'It's only half a league, that way.'

'Are we near a city?' The Sea of Thurkad was long and Nish was desperately trying to find some geographical point to hang on to.

'Nilkerrand is up the coast. Not far.'

'I don't know that place,' he said. 'Can you give me any other names?'

'Nilkerrand is directly across the sea from Thurkad. Surely even you have heard of it?'

'Of course I've heard of Thurkad,' said Nish. For millennia it had been the most famous city in the world, the richest, and certainly, to the prudish minds of distant Einunar, the wickedest. 'It fell to the enemy a while back, didn't it?'

'Last autumn. Why were you hanging onto that… bladder thing?'

'I floated across the Great Mountains on it.'

'Just like that?' Colm asked, incredulously.

'There used to be a basket but I was attacked by a savage beast called a nylatl, the most horrible creature you have ever seen. It's got claws as long as my fingers, and teeth nearly as big. Its spines are poisoned and it squirts venom out through a blue tongue. I set fire to the basket and exploded the beast to bits. It was the only way to survive.'

'Really?' said the boy, in a tone that suggested he did not believe a word of it.

'Yes, really!' Nish pulled up his trouser leg, showing the savage lacerations to his calf and the teeth marks on either side, which were red, swollen and hot to the touch. 'And see this,' he probed his still-swollen lips with a fingertip, 'that's where it got me with its poison. It was aiming for my eyes.'

Colm was impressed. 'I've never met a real hero. I bet you could fight a lyrinx and win.'

'I bet I couldn't,' said Nish. 'A real hero knows when to fight and when to run.'

'Like everyone here,' sneered Colm. 'The camp is full of cowards. Even my father ran when the lyrinx came.'

'My father didn't,' said Nish, 'but I wish he had. A lyrinx ripped his face open and tore his arm so badly that we had to cut it off.' He clenched his fist, grimaced and examined it in the dim light. There was a blister the width of his palm, and smaller ones along his fingers.

Now Colm was positively awe-stricken. 'Was that where you wiped the venom off?'

'No, that's where I pulled red-hot coals out of the brazier to set fire to the beast.'

Colm went quiet. Nish looked out through the crack but the yard was empty. All he saw was beaten earth and mud. There was not even a weed to be seen. Everything burnable had been burnt, and everything edible, eaten.

'I've been praying for a real hero,' the boy said softly. 'We really need help, Nish. Our home is gone, where we lived for more than a thousand years. We've even lost our Histories, all but what mother and father remember, and they won't talk about it any more. They've given up! I hate them sometimes. Why won't they fight? Will you help us, Nish?'

'I'm on a secret mission,' Nish replied, thinking fast. He needed aid and only this lad, and his parents, could give it. However, the island of Meldorin was swarming with lyrinx, and anyone who went there would be eaten. 'For the scrutator! I'm sorry, Colm. It's the war.'

'Of course,' Colm said dully. 'I understand. Where were you going?'

'I can't tell you that. But there is something you can do for me.'

The boy's eyes were shining. 'But you're a hero.'

'I've lost my balloon, and those thieves stole everything I own. I've got to get out of here and… do my job.'

'Of course I'll help you. I'll do anything. And in return…' He caught Nish's eye, a desperately young lad. 'In return, when all this is over, will you help me get back my heritage?'

What could Nish say? 'I give you my word, Colm. When the war is over, I will help you.' He held out his hand. The lad took it and there were tears of gratitude in his eyes. 'But first, I have to get out of this place.'

'The guards won't let anyone go.'

'I'll tell them who I am. That will make them sit up.'

'Do you have papers or a special pass?'

Nish had nothing. Most of his gear had been lost when the basket burned; the rest stolen the instant he arrived. 'No, but I represent the scrutator.'

'Not ours! They don't like foreigners in this country and the guards have heard every story in the world. They won't listen. They'll just beat you senseless and throw you in the mud. They say we should have been left to the lyrinx.'

'People must come in and out, in a camp this big.'

'Only soldiers. Sometimes they take the young women out, but they don't bring them back. My big sister is hiding.'

Nish could imagine why, all too well. The war was tearing society apart and in places like this the only thing that mattered was power. Getting it and keeping it.

'Perhaps I could dress up as a woman,' Nish said, half-joking.

Colm inspected Nish's swollen face and sturdy body. 'They wouldn't take you, Nish.'

I deserved that, Nish thought. 'Could I dig my way out?'

'The soil is only this deep.' Colm spread his fingers. 'And under it, there's rock.'

'What about over the fence?'

'The guards hang the bodies on the spikes. After they've finished with them.'

Nish shivered. His options were rapidly running out. 'Do your mother and father know anyone important?'

'I don't think so,' said the boy. 'I'll take you to meet them when it's dark. It's not safe in daytime. You haven't got a sign.'

'A sign?'

Colm held out his hand. On the back was a red, raised scar of jagged lines, like a jumble of triangles.

'Did the guards do that to you?'

Colm nodded. 'They did it to everyone, even the babies. With quicklime!'

'It must have hurt.'

'It still does, sometimes, and that was six months ago.'

'You've been here six months?'

'Yes, but we lost our home a long time before that. On my ninth birthday.'

'How old are you now, Colm?'

'Twelve and a half. I can join the army when I'm fourteen, if I'm big enough.'