Nights of Villjamur - Mark Charan Newton [113]
STARLIGHT WAS ALL THAT WAS AVAILABLE TO GUIDE BRYND AROUND THIS labyrinth of streets. They turned and twisted at various angles, and Brynd recalled how when he had first explored them years ago, he had been puzzled how they backed around on themselves, always leading him in the opposite direction. A shortcut here, a hidden path there, and you found yourself arriving at unusual junctures, some new territory not only in locational terms but even within your own psychology.
But tonight was different. He knew exactly where he was headed.
There was a permanent ethereal sheen to the stone from which the city was built, and to travelers it would look like some ghost construction, nothing real. He might have been walking in a dream.
He eventually found the right door, knocked, waited. It was answered by Papus herself, the leader of the Order of the Dawnir, clothed totally in gray, with only her face visible beneath her hood, which she held down as she stepped out into the moonlight. Under her chin, her medallion was just visible, though its symbol of an upright palm held no meaning for him.
“I received your message,” she whispered, her words turning to mist in the chilly air.
“Do you think you can help?” A sense of urgency had crept into his voice. Shifting weight from foot to foot in the cold, he rubbed his hands together impatiently.
“Possibly.” She glanced into the darkness behind, closed the door and stepped out into the alleyway.
They continued through the night, stepping over mounds of litter left at the rear of clustered housing, and it took them an hour to make their way to Caveside.
The city docks were used daily by the fishermen who pushed out their kayaks or larger vessels in constant relays, day and night. Each hunted different species of fish from the contiguous seas, sometimes beyond. Their catch fed the city, and despite the closure of the gates, the docks would remain open, now the only free route in and out of the city. Soldiers were stationed everywhere to prevent the smuggling in of refugees on boats. City guards, recognizing their commander, greeted him accordingly. Through a tunnel of houses to his left he could see starlight glistening above the water.
Papus herself had been quiet, preferring silence to conversation, and Brynd was fine with this. He had a lot to be thinking about anyway. They’d worked together before, and Brynd had already told her of his next mission, of his requirements.
Most cultists desired little involvement with Empire business. They were a complete mystery at times, had their own agendas full of hidden intelligence, and the balance of power could shift between their orders overnight, leaving a whole new arrangement to be negotiated. He knew less about their relics, of course, since they used their own methods to keep them secret. They had done so for thousands of years, and some of these orders were as old as Villjamur itself.
He led Papus to one of the large granite buildings at the far end of the harbor, a featureless structure with no windows at the front. He knocked on the door, which was answered by a female soldier from the Second Dragoons. She saluted him.
“Are they here?”
“Aye, commander. Downstairs.”
She stood to one side as the two of them stepped inside. This was one of the military jails, and they entered a room about fifty paces long lit by four lanterns. Metal bars lined one entire side, behind which waited the figures he had ordered to be brought in.
“Here they are,” Brynd gestured. “Draugr.”
“Draugr are just myths.” Papus stepped closer.
The imprisoned figures were difficult to see in the dim light, all huddled together against the rear wall.
“We’ve found them here on Jokull, wandering around aimlessly, though another group attacked my unit earlier—and I noticed one at Dalúk Point, though I’d no idea what it was then.” He came and stood next to her, resting one hand on a bar. On the floor was a puddle of black liquid, which he assumed to have seeped from one’s wounds. “One of my men described them as draugr, and he’s quite an expert on such things. Anyway,