The Cache, James Brogden [ebook e reader TXT] 📗

of Clanfather Sutomore Urretzi, and you will unhand me before I have Prime Adjutant Domitia feed you to your own vats!’

It was a risk, giving away her identity, but she had nothing else to fall back on now except her status. Whether it was the threat or just the sudden blaze of light, he blinked, and she took advantage of it by ramming her knee into his crotch, fleeing as he doubled up, retching. Saint Geller must have been looking favourably on her courage because around the next corner she saw the wide gates that opened onto the passage between Jaax and Urretzi territory, and she collapsed sobbing over the threshold of home.

‘I will not hear this!’ shouted her father. ‘I will not waste the prime adjutant’s time with old wives’ tales!’ Brother Putorius looked up briefly from his devotions at the shrine of Saint Geller, frowning at the interruption. The saint’s reliquary was a vast sarcophagus of black iron, decorated with panels depicting Geller victorious in battle over the abominations of the Outside and preaching in glory from the apex of the Spike. Snaking into it from all directions were the hissing pipes and trembling conduits that it was Putorius’ duty to placate with his mumbled prayers and invocations. ‘And even if your story is true, just because you ended up in Jaax territory doesn’t mean that what you found has anything to do with them.’

‘Who else could it be?’ she retorted.

‘Regardless of that,’ he ploughed on, ‘you thought this… this thing’ – he prodded the medallion with disgust – ‘which was part of something blasphemous, would somehow make up for your intrusion?’

It was true. She hadn’t considered it that way. At least she hadn’t told them about the mural and its effect on her. Bad enough that he thought she was an idiot; if he suspected that she had been polluted by the Outside he might very well throw her to the crawlers. The doctrine was implacable, first daughter or not. ‘I thought you’d be pleased,’ was the best she could come up with.

‘What would please me would be for you to stop running around the lower reaches like a child playing hide and seek, and live up to your responsibilities by marrying Hadzor Jaax and bearing him a son!’ he snapped.

She stared at him, horrified. ‘You still think there can be an alliance? When they are worshipping the Outside? Father, they’re spitting in the face of everything we believe! How can you say this?’

‘I can say this, daughter, because we are starving. It’s that simple.’ He wouldn’t face her, and she realised that what she had taken for coldness was the bleak despair of a trapped animal. ‘Now go and clean yourself up. And get rid of this!’ He tossed the medallion back to her.

The evening’s gruel was thin on sustenance, but there was enough awkward silence for a banquet. The last time they’d had fresh protein had been the discovery of a nest of foot-long albino centipedes, and just remembering the smell of their frying made Lyse’s mouth water. When she’d been very small her father had once brought home an oilskin-wrapped package that he had presented to his family with great ceremony. The lettering on it had long since faded and nobody knew what the contents were, and once it had been divided up amongst the family she’d received little more than a dice-sized lump, but even that had been enough to send her bouncing off the walls for the rest of the evening.

The awkward silence was broken by the arrival of a nervous-looking sentry, who announced that Hadzor Jaax was at the gate demanding to speak to the clanfather. He had the prime adjutant with him, accompanied by a squad of arbiters. Lyse’s father shot her a cold glance and rose from the table to accompany the guard. She excused herself and returned to her sleeping alcove – not just because of the day’s shocks, but also because there was a metal grille in the wall above her pallet that carried sound from the surrounding passageways if the airflow was in the right direction.

She pulled the curtain closed and stood on her pallet with her ear pressed to the grille, and found that she could hear the argument that was unfolding.

‘My daughter is no thief!’ her father shouted. Her heart glowed at that. He might be furious with her, but would never side with anyone against her no matter how wrong she was.

‘She was found in the vat hall, where she had no right to be,’ replied Jaax, his voice low and controlled – amused, even. ‘She even identified herself to one of my men, and threatened to have the arbiters called.’ Jaax’s chuckle was thick with the arrogance of power. ‘Be careful what you wish for, wouldn’t you say?’

A woman’s voice – Prime Adjutant Domitia, cold and without inflection: ‘Calm yourself, Sutomore. If she has taken nothing, you should have no fear of her being searched.’

‘This is not fear!’ snapped her father. ‘This is outrage! This accusation is baseless slander! An insult to my family and beneath the dignity of your office.’

‘Have a care how you tell me to do my job,’ Domitia said, her voice steely.

‘My apologies,’ he replied. ‘Nevertheless, prime adjutant…’

There was only one way this could end and Lyse didn’t need to hear any more. Her father would capitulate, their chambers would be searched, the medallion would be found and Jaax would murder her – probably not until she’d bred him a healthy son, but all the same. It would be easy to throw the object down a shaft beyond recovery and feign innocence, but to discard a piece of ancient tech like trash felt worse than wasting food. She needed a place to hide and a way of finding out what the medallion was, and she knew one person who could supply both, assuming that he was still alive and sane enough to not kill her on sight.

Cracius the