Inigo's Thirteenth Dream
The chamber of records was three levels down beneath the Spiral Tower which housed the headquarters of Makkathran's Weapons Guild. In total, the third level had twenty chambers, arranged in a circle and reached by a single ring corridor. They were used as vaults for the most secret guns and ammunition compounds known to the Guild's Masters. For centuries the triple iron doors to each chamber had kept the rapid-fire guns safe, along with long-barrelled pistols and other firearms lost to the rest of Querencia. The mechanisms to produce such devices were also kept in the vaults, as were the raw ingots of specialist metals the designs required.
Just to gain entrance to the Spiral Tower was difficult enough, there was only one entrance, and it was heavily guarded. All visitors had to be accompanied by a Master. Beyond that, armed guards kept a ceaseless vigil on the first and second basement levels. There were also ingenious trips and traps along the corridors and steps to catch anyone using concealment.
It was reasonable, therefore, for those who assembled in the chamber of records two days after Topar's little expedition left Makkathran to exude a degree of security. Grand Master Owain greeted his eleven guests warmly. No one made any attempt to hide their sense of trepidation and excitement as they made their way into the broad cross vaulted chamber. There was a simple wooden table set up in the middle, with thirteen chairs around it. Tall shelving cabinets were arrayed round the lead-grey walls, containing hundreds of leather folders which held every pistol and bullet design produced by the Guild over its two millennia existence. Long teardrop lighting patterns stretched across the curving ceiling, glowing passively.
Bise was the last to be shown in. He smiled round at his fellows as the three thick, heavy doors swung shut behind him. Complicated locks rotated, pushing steel bolts into place and securing them, combination bands were spun.
'My poor boy, Mistress Florrel said, and embraced Sampalok's ex-Master warmly. 'Welcome home.
'Thank you, Grandmama.
'Did you get the food I had sent out to you? I had the bakery on Jodsell Street make those raspberry muffins especially. I know how much you liked them as a boy.
'Yes indeed, it was most kind.
'Was exile so terrible?
'It had its moments.
'It had its costs, Tannarl said. 'Half of your family stayed at my lodge.
'For which you will be fully recompensed, Owain said smoothly. 'Come come, we are not here to squabble among ourselves over a little coinage. Our moment draws near.
'It was drawing near two years ago, Bise said. 'Then he arrived.
'Well the Waterwalker is off running round the countryside now, trying to find bandits, Buate said. 'And when he does, he won't be coming back.
'Don't be too sure, Owain said. 'His telekinesis is incredibly strong. Makkathran hasn't seen the like since the days of Rah. And not even Rah could alter the city buildings.
Bise glowered at the reminder.
'Careful cousin, Tannarl said. 'You tread close to heresy.
'I state the simple truth.
'You don't seriously believe he can ward off the reception I have arranged for him? Buate asked. 'The whole point of ambushing him outside the crystal wall is to rob him of the advantage which the city gives him.
'The outcome is almost irrelevant, Owain said. 'Even if he does survive there will be nothing for him to return to. We must be absolute in that. Our supporters are ready.
'There will be resistance, Buate warned.
'Lady take them, Tannarl said. 'I say we don't wait any—
The Waterwalker rose smoothly through the floor of the records chamber, his black cloak enveloping him like an extinguished nebula. He studied each one of the conspirators sitting around the table. Several had risen to their feet, hands reaching for their pistols. A motion which died as he gave them a lofty dismissive smile.
'The election has given us a Mayor and a full Council, the Waterwalker said. 'There will be no change, no revolution. We are not One Nation until we choose to be so.
'What are you proposing? Owain asked.
'I am proposing nothing. Your time is over.
'This time, maybe, Bise snarled. 'But there will be other opportunities.
'No, there won't, the Waterwalker told him. 'I've already seen what happens if you win.
Owain frowned at the strange claim. Uneasy thoughts were stirring beneath his normally resolute shield.
'You cannot arrest us, Mistress Florrel said. 'Our kind are not accountable in common law courts. And we have many allies in the Upper Council where you would need to enact judgement.
'Quite right, the Waterwalker agreed. 'It would be pointless.
Tannarl strode across the chamber, his third hand reaching out. The big lock on the inner door turned sharply, its intricate combination bands spinning round until the bolts were freed. They withdrew, and the door swung open. There were several sharp breaths. The door opened on to a smooth section of grey wall. There was no way out of the chamber.
'I have heard many times from your followers that I am weak, the Waterwalker said. 'That I lack resolution. If you believe that, you don't know me at all. This revolution will end here, now. Without you, it cannot happen. Without the rapid-fire guns it cannot be attempted ever again. Makkathran will remain a democracy. His cloak parted, and he held an arm out, palm down. A rapid-fire gun slipped up through the floor and rose into his hand. He closed his fingers around it.
'No, Owain said. 'This is against everything you stand for.
'You really shouldn't believe everything a heartbroken teenage girl tells you.
Owain grimaced as his fear began to manifest.
'You wouldn't dare, Mistress Florrel said. 'My family will not permit this.
'It is my family now, Edeard told her calmly.
Eleven third hands pushed and hammered against the Water-walker's shield, trying to find a weakness, a way though. Long-shouts for help were hurled at the impermeable chamber walls.
'For all of my life I have known that sometimes to do what's right, you first have to do what's wrong, the Waterwalker told them. 'Now I realize the truth of it. That is what I am. His finger squeezed down on the trigger. He held it there until the magazine was empty.
Storage vault five contained over three hundred rapid-fire guns. They were wrapped in oiled cloth, sitting on racks that formed neat ranks across the floor.
Edeard replaced the one he'd used on its rack. He asked the city to dispose of them all. The floor beneath the racks changed, becoming porous, and the dreadful weapons sank down to oblivion.
His farsight swept out, examining the other vaults. Storage vault eight contained the bullets used by the rapid-fire guns. The city quietly absorbed the crates. Vault two had the long barrelled pistols. Seventeen housed some huge guns, their barrels as big as his legs, mounted on little wheeled trolleys. Iron balls larger than his fist were stacked in pyramids beside them — the bullets, he realized. He shuddered as he imagined the damage they could cause. All sank away. Finally, the shelving cabinets in the chamber of records slid beneath the solid floor.
The secret power of the Weapons Guild was no more. There would never be an internal threat to Makkathran's Grand Council and Mayor again.
Apart from the elections. And the Guild quarrels. And the merchants manoeuvring and bribing for gain. And the Grand Families struggling for advantage.