“Plaizaiers,” she said. “Court dancers. Pheromonally enhanced folk whose mere presence drives people mad with arousal. By Sanctum, is this canton really so uncivilized? Either way, Din, we haven’t solved a murder. Rather, we are still solving a murder. And we won’t solve it at all until you send this damned letter!”
She gave me the letter, and I posted it. And that, I thought, would be the end of it for some days.
CHAPTER 8
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I WAS LYING IN my bunk, dozing as I listened to the half-dozen other Sublimes snoring in their sheets. I didn’t know any of them: I was too old to be an apprentice, and thus too old for the Sublimes’ quarters, so I didn’t associate with them much; but I had grown used to sleeping with strangers about. I almost found the sound comforting.
I listened to the rain pattering on our fretvine roof, and then the sound of distant thunder.
The thunder continued, on and on. It crackled, then snapped curiously. Then more snaps, and more.
I sat up in my bunk, realizing I was not hearing thunder at all.
I stood and shouted, “Out of bed! Now!”
“The hell?” muttered one of the boys. “What’s the matter with you?”
“That’s bombard fire, goddamn it!” I shouted. I ran for the door. “Get outside, now, now!”
I scrambled out into the driving rain to find I wasn’t alone: the wet night was filling with figures sprinting from their quarters, all of us making for the earthworks on the eastern side of the town’s fortifications. We ran up the sides of the hillocks, grabbing grasses to haul ourselves higher on their slippery slopes, until finally we came to the eastern side and peered south.
I narrowed my eyes. It was hard to see in the glittering, rainy darkness, but I thought I could spy flickers on the southern horizon, flashes of yellow-white light. Bombard fire, bright and brilliant.
“Can’t be,” said a voice near me. “We’re too far out to hear or see bombards…”
“Unless it’s the big guns,” said someone else. “Then who knows?”
“Or they could be firing in from the sea walls,” said another boy quietly. “But then that would mean…”
The rain hammered on us, on and on, pelting our scalps and the puddles at our feet.
“If it’s a breach,” I said, “we’d see the beacon.” I felt a fluttering in my eyes and summoned a map of the region I’d glanced at once. I pointed into a stretch of darkness. “It’d be there.”
More flickers of light, more crackles of bombard. We stood on the earthworks listening to the whole of Daretana awaken, the distant orders shouted and screamed, the cry of horses, the slamming of many doors.
And then it appeared, glimmering in the darkness: a single, narrow lick of fluttering yellow flame.
“Beacon’s up,” I said hoarsely. “A titan’s made it past the walls…”
Then someone started screaming: “It’s a breach! Breach, breach, it’s a breach!”
The whole world fell to chaos then. The tocsin bells started ringing out, a skull-clattering clang-clang. People struggled to light torches or get their mai-lanterns glowing. The engravers among us proved helpful: we remembered the policy for this, where to go and what to do, and soon we had all the other Sublimes and troops and anyone available mustering in the fields north of Daretana, waiting in the pouring rain.
The waiting seemed to go on and on. I heard whispers in the rain, perhaps sobs. I glanced at one Sublime’s tall, perfect posture and saw his eyes were shut tight and he’d bitten his lip so hard he bled.
Then a commander of the Legion finally arrived—you could see the shine of his crested helm beneath the glow of a lantern—and the senior officers distributed orders: all Engineering and Legion officers were to pack up and move out south for Talagray immediately. All other soldiers were to help them pack as best they could, then stay behind and prep Daretana for immediate evacuation if needed.
What followed was mad, muddy chaos. The baggage train came rumbling into town and we all swarmed the roads, helping to heave sacks and trunks up onto the towering carts, grabbing gear from Engineers or Legionnaires as they hurried to arrange their personal packs. It was strange to see us all so transformed, so hurried and grim, rushing to prepare these people—acquaintances, friends, lovers, enemies, strangers—to venture out into the darkness and face the unknown. I looked for friends of my own from my first days in Sublime training, but the rain and the half light and the whirl of shouted words made identifying anyone impossible.