‘A few miles, eh? We can make that before nightfall. Let’s get some shelter over our heads. You lot could use a break from the rain.’
A Precious Gift
Barandas rubbed at his tired eyes, yawned and glanced back down at the ledger he had been studying. The numbers had started to blur together. He sighed and closed the book, leaning back in his chair.
Moist lips brushed the back of his neck and he turned to see Lena watching him with a concerned expression.
‘You’ve been up all night. Again.’
He glanced out of the window. Night had given way to a grim dawn, iron-grey clouds plastering the sky from horizon to horizon. Droplets of rain crawled down the glass panels and pattered onto the stones below. The last couple of days had been nothing but incessant drizzle. After the public announcement that Dorminia was now at war with Thelassa, the depressing weather was oddly appropriate. The news had been received by the populace with all the enthusiasm one might expect. That was to say, none at all.
He got to his feet, stretching out the tightness in his back. Lena was still looking at him with worry on her face. He leaned forwards and kissed her quickly.
‘I’ll manage,’ he said. ‘The Marshal still isn’t fit to return to his post. While he is indisposed, I have a war to plan and the commissioning of new Augmentors to oversee.’
Lena shook her head in annoyance. ‘What exactly is wrong with Halendorf? You’d think he would be itching for revenge against Thelassa. After all, their assassins did try to poison him.’
Barandas yawned again. ‘He was deeply unsettled by his near-death experience. His acid is so bad he can barely rise from his bed, or so he claims.’
‘And Ardling? Is our Chancellor also indisposed by the recent attempt on your lives?’
‘I imagine the cost of a war with our neighbours has had greater implications for his well-being than all the excitement in the Grand Council Chamber.’
Lena’s expression became grave. She was in no mood for jokes, it seemed. Not that it was much of a joke. With the expense of the war with Shadowport and now this latest conflict, I’m surprised our Chancellor hasn’t committed suicide.
‘I have a busy day ahead training the new servants, and visiting textile merchants and seamsters,’ said his wife. ‘I will not have our new staff pay for their own uniforms, despite what Kyla and the others might say. What time will you be home tonight?’
Barandas shifted uncomfortably. ‘I will be at the Obelisk this evening. Lord Salazar has requested my presence. Don’t look at me like that, Lena! Many of the city’s magistrates are dead. It is only right that the rest of us do our duty. Especially in times of war.’
She sighed and eventually nodded. That was precisely why he loved her so much. Compassion, concern and then acceptance. You are my rock, Lena, tethering me to my humanity when this world would make of me a monster.
‘What of Legwynd? Have you found his killers?’
Barandas shook his head. ‘Not yet. They could have fled anywhere, perhaps even north to the Badlands. The mine, Lena… every man working the Rift was buried alive.’
‘Whoever did this must be brought to justice.’
‘They will be, when the Watch can spare the men to conduct a widespread search. In the meantime, we await our first shipment from the Swell. All this effort spent training new recruits will be in vain if we don’t have the raw magic to create more Augmentors.’
Lena looked up at him. The green crystal on the platinum chain around her neck matched her eyes. Even after five years of marriage, her beauty still took his breath away. ‘It suits you,’ he said, cupping the quartz in his palm.
‘You never did tell me where you found it.’
Her tone made him grin. She always told him he had a boy’s smile. ‘Where I found it? What makes you think I didn’t go to the finest jeweller in the city and have it commissioned for you?’
She raised an eyebrow in response. ‘As if you could tear yourself away from your responsibilities long enough to waste time buying pretty baubles for your spoiled wife. Really, Ran, where did you find it?’
His smile faded away. He remembered the gruesome result of Thurbal’s butchery flopping around in pools of blood, and the lurid glow of flames licking around the pile of corpses to reduce them to blackened skeletons.
‘Better you don’t ask,’ he said. ‘I appropriated it while doing my duty to Lord Salazar and the city. If you don’t wish to have it, I know someone else who might…’
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘What, the goodwife or whatever it is she calls herself?’
‘The goodlady,’ he corrected her. ‘Truth be told I’m rather certain Cyreena will never make anyone a good wife. Though I suppose a man can but try…’
She tutted and he grinned again, pulling her towards him for a kiss. ‘I have to leave now,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long I will be at the Obelisk this evening. Don’t wait up.’
‘You know me,’ she said, giving him a frown.
‘Yes, I do. And I wouldn’t have you any other way.’ He gave her one last kiss, and then went to wash his face and find something to eat before heading out into the relentless drizzle. He had a busy day ahead.
‘Keep your weapon up,’ Barandas instructed, launching a backhand swing at his opponent’s neck. He brought his longsword to a halt at the last possible instant, leaving the blade poised a hair’s breadth from the man’s throat.
‘Point taken, sir,’ said Gorm in a strained voice. He remained perfectly still. ‘I don’t suppose you could take your sword away now?’
Barandas lowered his weapon and stared across at the other man. Tall and thin, Gorm had the look of a clerk or accountant rather than a warrior. For all that, he was competent enough with a spear and had served in the Watch for the best part of a decade. He had been high on the list of men Halendorf had recommended for consideration. So far he hadn’t set the world alight, but neither was he the worst candidate Barandas had tested in recent days.
‘Tell me, Gorm. Why do you wish to become an Augmentor?’
The lanky Watchman scratched at his bulbous nose with a thin hand and cleared his throat nervously. ‘I want to serve his lordship and the city. Why else?’
Barandas blinked rainwater from his eyes. All around the small courtyard, men watched the spectacle with expressions of eagerness, curiosity or apprehension. A handful of Augmentors were among them. Thurbal stroked the pommel of his enchanted scimitar and smiled cruelly at the hopefuls. Garmond loomed near the courtyard gates, motionless, like a statue carved from obsidian in his light-devouring armour.
‘You say you want to serve our lord and Dorminia, yet is this not already your mandate as a man of the Crimson Watch? To become an Augmentor is to go beyond mere servitude. The magic that is bestowed upon an Augmentor links them to Lord Salazar in mind, body and soul. Are you prepared for that?’
The tall man appeared to think about this for a moment before nodding. ‘I guess I am,’ he said. ‘Do I get to choose what kind of magic I get? I always wanted a belt that made me as strong as a giant, like the one Kronin of Gharzia wore to repel the horse lords of the steppes in the time before the Godswar. My old grandpa used to tell me stories about it.’
Barandas sighed. So this one’s a dreamer, full of excitement at the prospect of carrying magic around. He glanced across to Thurbal. They aren’t as reliable as the sociopaths once the novelty wears off. Still, better a dreamer than an idealist. Those rarely last long.
‘The answer to your question is no,’ he said. ‘You will be assigned bondmagic that best complements your natural aptitudes.’