Only one more now, she thought. The captain.
But where would he be?
Are you insane, woman! came a voice inside her mind. Leave now!
‘No!’ she said aloud. ‘I’il find him.’
‘Leave and he ‘II find you. I promise you! Stay and you will die and he will live. I promise you that too!’
‘Who are you? Where are you?’ she asked, spinning round and scanning the shadows.
I am with you, girl, and I want your trust. Leave now. Believe me, you won’t like being dead. I know, I’ve tried it. Now go!’
Confused, Sigarni obeyed, cutting down through an alley towards the North Gate.
The bastards have unhinged my mind, she thought. Now I am hearing ghost voices.
From the citadel keep came the sound of clanging alarm bells.
I’ll never get out now, she thought.
‘Yes, you will’ said the voice. ‘Your people need you.’
Baron Ranulph Gottasson groaned. The pain had moved beyond pleasure to a burning point of agony that bordered on the exquisite.
Narcotics flowed in his blood, and his waking dreams were vivid. He saw again the fall of the Kushite cities, refugees running panic-stricken from their burning homes, heard again the wailing of the soon-to-die, the piercing screams of city dwellers staring into the brutal faces of the conquering soldiers, feeling the cold bite of their blades into soft, yielding flesh.
Days of blood and glory, marching his men across inhospitable deserts, iron mountains and lush foreign plains.
And then it was over. No one left to conquer.
< At first it had not seemed so onerous: the triumphant return to the capital, the cheering crowds choking the streets, the nights of celebration at the palace, the orgies... The Baron groaned again. He felt someone lift his head, and a cold metal goblet was placed against his lips. He swallowed and sank back. Then had come the day when the organization of the empire was re-shaped. Plessius was made Governor General of Kushir and the east - a bumbling fool of a man with not an ounce of ambition in his fat head. A hardly surprising choice to rule a land three thousand leagues from the capital. The King had chosen wisely; there would be no rebellion from that quarter. Ranulph had let it be known he desired the north. There was nothing here of any worth, save cattle and timber. The climate was harsh in winter, perversely changeable in what passed for summer. A little coal was being mined, but there were no deposits of gold or silver, nor even iron. The people were poor and defeated. Ranulph had waited for his appointment, sure in the knowledge that he would be offered anything but the north. The King possessed a mind of astonishing cunning, and would never offer any general the true object of his desires. Ranulph's mind swam on a sea of delicious pain ... He had a spy in Jastey's household, and knew well that the Earl desired the west. Seventeen rich cities, scores of mines, seven ports, and a thriving commercial network. Together they created the perfect foundation for an assault on the King. Wealth to buy mercenaries, ships to ferry armies and keep them supplied. Oh, how Ranulph had laughed when Jastey had been made High Sheriff of the Capital. Despite being a position of great influence, bringing immense wealth, it meant that Jastey was always at court and close to the King. But Jastey's handsome face had worn a smile the following day, when Ranulph had been summoned to the palace. The memory brought a fresh spasm of agony. Ranulph had walked down the long aisle in the Chapel of the Blessed Blade, to where the King waited with his courtiers around him, Jastey at his right hand. Ranulph knelt before his sovereign, then gazed up into the dark, reptilian eyes. 'It is reported to me that you desire to govern the north, my good and dear friend,' said the King. 'Your services to the kingdom merit great rewards, and I can think of no greater reward than to bestow upon you that which you most desire. Rise, Baron Ranulph Gottasson, Earl of the North, Governor General of the Highlands.'