‘Sounds pleasant,’ Serrah mumbled.

‘Fortunately they tend to be the larger tunnels,’ Disgleirio explained, ‘and most have narrow walkways along their edges. See?’ He pointed to one.

Caldason studied the model. ‘How do we get into the system in the first place?’

‘This big outlet tunnel passes underneath several adjoining buildings. One of them happens to be a place we have access to. The outlet runs directly under its cellar. That’s been verified; we’ve already broken through to the tunnel.’

‘Serrah’s right about it being a labyrinth. It’d be easy getting lost down there.’

‘You’ll have a map. And of course there’s no light so you’ll need glamour illumination.’

‘What part of the building do we come up in?’

Disgleirio nodded to Phoenix. The building reappeared, transparent this time. Disgleirio indicated an area on the ground floor, near the back wall. ‘Just about here. We reckon that should be the easiest place to get through the flooring.’

‘Why is so much of the inside of the building blank?’ Serrah said. ‘What’s on the rest of the ground floor, and the upper floors?’

‘We don’t have a plan for any more than you’re seeing now,’ Karr answered. ‘Our informant couldn’t supply that, no matter how greedy he might be. What we’re told is that the ground floor doesn’t contain much of interest except a guard room. The upper storeys are where the records are kept.’

‘You can’t be entirely sure?’ Caldason prompted.

‘Not completely, no. But you can be certain there are glamour alarums and traps in there. Quite apart from any human opposition you might meet.’

Serrah exclaimed, ‘

Might?

The place is going to be crawling with people, isn’t it?’

‘Normally it would be. But remember what’s coming up in a couple of days.’

Disgleirio supplied the answer. ‘So-called Freedom Day.’

‘Precisely. The day when demonstrating our loyalty and great love for the occupiers is compulsory. None of the clerks are going to be working in this repository, and there’ll only be a skeleton crew of guards, if that. Not to mention that the streets will be full of the usual dragooned parades and marches. That should provide a nice diversion and tie up most of the security forces.’

‘You’re sure about all this?’ Serrah queried.

‘Our intelligence unit’s been working on it for nearly two years. It’ll be a heavy blow to the authorities if we can pull it off, so naturally we’ve tried to plan for every eventuality. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t very hazardous. That’s why we’re asking you to go, not telling you. Everybody has to be a volunteer.’

‘There’s the question of getting your band back up to strength,’ Disgleirio added. ‘We can do that with Righteous Blade members. It means you’ll be going in with new men you haven’t had time to gel with. There’s no way round that. All we can do is give you our best.’

‘Before you make up your minds,’ Karr returned, ‘there’s another consideration. I said this place is going to be well protected magically. That means you need to have a sorcerer with the band, and for preference a spotter. They’re in short supply, as you know. So what I’m proposing is that Kutch fills that role. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t ask this. But these aren’t common times.’

Kutch looked thunderstruck.

‘Wait a minute, Karr,’ Caldason rumbled. ‘He’s just a boy, and this is a dangerous situation we’d be getting into. His inexperience could put all of us at risk.’ He turned to Kutch. ‘Sorry, but that’s how I see it.’

‘I think Kutch should make the decision himself, don’t you? Go ahead, Kutch. What do you think?’

The boy had coloured from being the centre of attention, and at first stumbled over his words. ‘I want to do whatever I can to help. I know I haven’t got much experience, but I learn fast. Don’t worry about me, Reeth, I wouldn’t let you down.’

Caldason asked Phoenix, ‘Is he fully trained as a spotter yet?’

‘Nowhere near.’ The magician held up a hand to still the protest. ‘But he’s made good progress and he can do the job. Besides, as the patrician said, we’ve little option. Spotting is incredibly rare, and having a spotter with you could make the difference between success or failure for this mission.’

Reeth pondered that. ‘Are you sure, Kutch? Do you know what you’d be getting yourself into?’

‘I have a much better idea of what violence is all about since knowing you, Reeth.’

‘Er, I’ll take that as a compliment. All right. Kutch is included only on condition that once he’s done his job he’s out of there. I don’t want him exposed to any more danger than necessary.’

‘Work it out in whatever way you think appropriate,’ Karr told him.

‘What about you, Serrah? Are you in for this one?’

‘I’m in.’

Caldason sighed. ‘Assuming the rest of the band volunteer too, which I’m sure they will, that seems to settle it.’

‘Excellent, Reeth.’ Karr beamed benevolently.

Kutch wore an expression of cheerful self-importance. Caldason seemed less happy.

‘So, what’s the plan once we’re inside?’ Serrah said.

‘Arson,’ Karr replied. ‘Phoenix’s people have developed some concentrated flammables. Light enough to carry but strong enough to do the job.’

‘I bet it’d be interesting to see what those files say,’ Kutch speculated.

‘We’d all be intrigued to find out, I’m sure,’ Karr smiled. ‘But that’s a pleasure we’ll have to forgo, I’m afraid; removing even a percentage of them would be impossible. No, we have to destroy them, and get our satisfaction from knowing we’ve struck a heavy blow against the oppressors.’

‘Does this mission get me any nearer to my goal?’ Caldason wanted to know.

‘It does. Trust me.’

‘Then we’d better start preparing ourselves, hadn’t we?’

24

There were fires all over the plains, reddening the night sky.

A township was burning. Buildings collapsed, cattle stampeded. The crops in surrounding fields were ablaze, trees converted into huge flaming torches, smoke driven by chill northern winds. Choking, tear-stained, the vanquished streamed from the settlement, herded by their conquerors.

The town’s last enclave had fallen. It was adjacent to the final battlefield, which was littered with defending and invading dead. The first far outnumbered the second, as was to be expected given the winners’ advantage. Already, scavengers were moving through the carnage, gathering loot and ending misery with sharp blades.

The new master watched it all from a commanding cliff-top.

He was The Awakened. Emperor of the Barbarians. Shadow of the Gods. The Man who Fell from the Sun.

He was Zerreiss.

Nothing he wore distinguished him from the lowliest of his soldiers; no finery, no golden armour. If anything, he was less well built than was the norm for his race, and no taller. He had still to reach his middle years, and retained a measure of youthful looks, which his rugged complexion and beard failed to conceal. His features were even, average, ordinary.

Yet he was phenomenal.

He had a quality some called presence. Others said authority, charm, allure, seductiveness, charisma, strength. But, in truth, words were too feeble to describe his singularity. For he had all these traits and something more. Something indefinable. It was as though he embodied a nameless force of nature. A power that left an indelible brand on all who came within its range. It beguiled, inspired, and never failed to excite awe. Fanatical devotion or dread were kindled by it.

This day, the warlord had come with the gift of darkness.

Only true fire ravaged the mesa; there was no longer any synthetic illumination. The lights of his invasion fleet, anchored in the shallow bay, were fuelled by oil and tallow. His horde, their numbers blackening the plain, held aloft genuine brands.