ended in a broad chamber with a low curved roof. Moonlight reflected from the channel of water running through it to dapple silver onto the roof and walls. The light came from numerous holes in the roof and illuminated a watercourse that stretched away for at least a mile below the ground.
“My lord!” Tsai Lin’s voice echoed long in the chamber as he called from a boat in the water. He sat at the stern with an oar, the three women huddled in the centre. Another boat was moored close by, complete with two oars.
“The scum refused to wait,” Tsai Lin said as Vaelin climbed into his boat, taking up the spare oar and positioning himself at the prow. Ahm Lin climbed in behind him whilst the others filled the second boat. They were long, flat-hulled craft with tall sides, designed, Vaelin assumed, for the smuggling trade.
“We’re alive thanks to that scum,” he reminded Tsai Lin, pushing his oar against the stone bank to send the craft into the middle of the waterway. They set off at a steady paddle, Vaelin glancing behind to ensure the other boat was following. Alum and Nortah had charge of the oars and they made good progress. Vaelin’s gaze returned continually to Sherin’s huddled form in the second boat, head bowed low and slim shoulders hunched in grief.
“Varij?” Luralyn stared up at Vaelin from the bottom of the boat, her eyes like dark holes in a grey mask. Whatever drug she had been dosed with had apparently faded, but he knew her pains were far from over.
“Dead,” Vaelin replied, facing forward.
“He was the thorn,” Luralyn persisted. “Wasn’t he?”
Vaelin just nodded and worked his oar through the water.
“Did he say anything?” Luralyn’s voice faltered and it was several seconds before she spoke again. “Did he . . . explain anything?”
I was set to watch her years ago . . . Her betrayal was necessary. “Nothing that made any sense,” Vaelin replied. “He was quite mad. I’m sorry.”
They rowed for close to an hour before coming to the end of the tunnel, the mouth of which was partially covered by a curtain of hanging weeds. Vaelin and Tsai Lin slowed the boat as they neared the opening, emerging slowly through the curtain to find themselves confronted by the long silver road of the Great Northern Canal. It stretched away to the left and right, for miles, although the southern course appeared to have no terminus whilst the northern ended in the dark bulk of Keshin-Kho.
Vaelin reckoned they were at most five miles from the city, but the noise was audible even here; thousands of voices raised in rhythmic chanting to the glory of the Darkblade’s victory. He turned his gaze from it and the charnel house visions it conjured, propelling the boat into the canal with a hard sweep of his oar, then steering a southward course.
He scanned the passing banks constantly, letting out a small sigh of gratitude when he noticed a mist drifting in from the surrounding fields. Anything that might shield their escape was welcome. His gratification faded, however, when Ahm Lin shuffled closer, whispering, “This is not a natural fog, brother.”
He gave an urgent nod at Vaelin’s questioning look. Another glance at the mist was enough to convince him. It swirled in thick tendrils, seemingly immune to the course of the prevailing breeze. Vaelin rose, setting his oar aside and raising his hands to sign to the second boat, the old Order gesture warning of enemies close by. He saw Nortah acknowledge the warning with a brief flick of his hand before lifting his bow, Ellese doing the same.
Vaelin stooped to retrieve the oar, then paused, his gaze snared by a pale vision on the canal bank. Derka tossed his mane in recognition as he trotted through the grass, snorted breath mingling with the fog. A smile played on Vaelin’s lips as he strove to imagine how the stallion had contrived to escape the Keshin-Kho stables, then faded when he saw the saddle on his back; a Stahlhast saddle.
Thirus rose from the long grass with her bow already drawn, the arrow flying free, trailing vapour as it described a perfect arc towards him. An arm slammed hard against Vaelin’s chest, Ahm Lin’s shout mingling with the curse Thirus screamed in her arrow’s wake, both sounds choking off simultaneously as the shaft struck home.
Vaelin took in the sight of Thirus falling in a welter of blood, one of Ellese’s arrows speared neatly through