‘Because the other bloke paid more.’
They began to walk slowly through the gardens. A silent pleasure ground of flowers, everything heavy with the scent of damp earth and soft petals, overlaid with the stink of death. A languid silence held. The palace burn behind them, the light of the flames making their shadows dance.
They came to a pool in which huge water lilies floated. Marith bent down and washed his face and hands. They were filthy with blood and ashes, the water that ran off them was black and vile. It glimmered with tiny fragments of mage glass.
‘There’s no one around,’ he said.
Tobias grunted. ‘All dead, probably.’
‘Where are we going, then?’
‘Out of this accursed palace. Out of this accursed city. Back to the meeting place, like was agreed.’
They came to a high wall of white porcelain, grown up with jasmine and wisteria and pale sweet peas. Too tall and smooth to climb. They followed it along a little and came to a colonnade giving onto a small courtyard. Marith laughed. The Gate of Weeping. They’d come full circle. They were back where they began.
Tobias sat down on the lip of the dry fountain, rubbing at his leg. He was limping badly. Not as badly as Rate, who was barely walking, he and Alxine supporting each other, their breath short and gasping with pain. The marble woman looked down on them, pouring out her empty vessel onto dry stone, a small shy smile on her face.
‘The gate might be locked now,’ Tobias said slowly. ‘And gods only know what’s behind it. Might be the whole Sorlostian army. Might be chaos. Might be nobody’s even bloody noticed what’s been going on here. The city gates are shut fast for the night, even if we make it that far. And we’re so covered in filth nobody would let us out of them anyway. We’ve got maybe two, three hours till dawn. And when the light comes up we need to be somewhere where nobody can see us. Especially not you, Lord Prince. You look like …’ He barked out a short, cold, harsh laugh. ‘You look like what you are, boy.’
‘So where are we going, then?’
‘I wish I knew. Anyone got any ideas?’
Somewhere I can get enough drink and hatha to drown myself. Marith shrugged. ‘Not really, no.’
They approached the gate. Tobias listened at it, then tried it carefully. It opened and the street beyond it was empty, though there was a sound of distant shouting and the occasional crash. They stood in the shadows by the high white wall.
‘You didn’t really think this bit through, did you?’ said Marith. ‘Or did you just assume we’d all die before we got this far?’
‘I’ve just laid waste to a palace, double-crossed a member of the Sorlostian high nobility and my commanding officer and walked out of it alive with all of my men still in possession of a head and four limbs each,’ said Tobias shortly. ‘I’m pretty impressed with myself, personally, thank you, boy. And getting out’s always the hard bit. There’s no point thinking it through. Whatever you plan turns to shit. They really weren’t meant to turn up with a whole load of soldiers at the end though. The guys in black were all meant to die rather more easily and Lord White Robes was supposed to give us a hand, not just gawp at us.’
‘We could try the Five Corners.’ It was the first time Rate had spoken. His voice rasped painfully, as though he had too many teeth in his mouth. ‘They might … let us in … We’ve got clothes there …’ He trailed off. No one on earth would let them in, looking the way they did. Not to let them out again, anyway.
Alxine said slowly, ‘We find a house to hide in and wait it out until they open the gates. Bit like we did in Telea.’
Tobias shook his head. ‘That was a bloody siege. Half the houses were abandoned. Aren’t many houses round here that aren’t inhabited, as far as I’ve noticed.’
A pause. Then Rate said, ‘There’s a solution to that.’
They all looked at Rate. Oh no. No, no. Not that. Not that.
Tobias laughed harshly. ‘You think? You can’t hold a sword to fight, lad. You couldn’t kill a new-born baby, state you’re in. And you couldn’t do it anyway, not when it came to it, could you?’
‘True.’ Rate’s eyes narrowed. ‘But Marith could.’
They all looked at Marith. Oh no. No, no. He looked back at them. Rubbed his eyes wearily. All the joy had gone out of him. Replaced with shame. Disgust. He never wanted to see another drop of blood as long as he lived. He never wanted to hold a sword again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Just make it stop. Make it all stop. Make everything go away. Help me, he thought distantly. Help me. Please.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. ‘As long as I get the best bed afterwards.’
It was a small house, tucked next to a bookshop with an alley running off the other side. Quiet, so the neighbours wouldn’t overhear.
He’d thought about it carefully. Not too run down: it had to have half-decent beds, a bath, food in the cupboards. Not much point doing what he was about to do for lice and rats and an empty larder. Not too wealthy either, that someone might be concerned about its inhabitants if they disappeared for a few days. Middling. Dull. Just a house. It was just bad luck for the people inside he happened to choose this particular one. It had grey and black beams on the outside that he rather liked, and a yellow door.
Hoped whoever lived there would be out gaping at the heart of the city burning down around them, or running like hell to get away from whatever foreign army rumour had it was invading. But they were all in bed fast asleep. And so Marith went through the house and killed everyone in it. There was in fact a new-born baby. He killed it. He killed three children, three women, two men, a dog and a cat. Then he found a bottle of what was probably wood alcohol and drank it as fast as he could. By the time he reached the bottom he’d almost blotted out the noise the baby had made before it died. Then he lay down in the best bed and slept for a long time.
Meat. Tea. Warm bread. Wood smoke.
Marith came cautiously down the stairs, following the smells and the sound of voices. He was still covered in blood and filth. Every part of his body hurt. His head was pounding so badly he could hardly see. The sound of the baby’s crying rang in his ears. It was a triumph that he was alive at all.
A large, bright kitchen. Tobias was cooking salt meat and eggs. Rate and Alxine were sitting at a table eating bread and butter and drinking tea. There was a jug of milk on the table. Warm afternoon sunlight poured in through a small window looking onto a garden thick with fruit bushes.