She bit her lip. There was nothing she could do for him. And he was right. Lyf’s courier would have reached the entrance to Cython by now. In half an hour he could be handing the death order to the matriarchs. All depended on how urgent it was, and how long they took to act on it. What if the enemy already had a plan and were just waiting for the order? There might not be much time at all.
The men’s Empound, which consisted of banks of tiny, individual cells arranged around a large assembly area, was as neat and well scrubbed as everywhere else in Cython.
But the place felt empty.
Tali eased open a cell door and peeped in. She saw an empty stone bunk, a neatly folded ragweed blanket, a full water jug and a peg in the wall where the slave would hang his loincloth at bedtime. Every slave’s home looked like that. Few had any other possessions.
She checked several other cells, randomly. They were all the same — like the women’s cells, only smaller. She tasted water from one of the jugs, and it was fresh. What could have happened to the men? The cells did not look abandoned — just empty.
She went back to Tobry and Holm. “They’re not here. What do I do now?”
“Where could they have gone?” said Holm.
When she thought about it, the answer was obvious. “Mating nights.”
“Which are?”
“The three nights a month when the mated men are allowed to visit their women folk, and the younger men and boys go home to their families. They’ll be in the women’s Empound.”
“Then your call to rebellion will have to be absolutely brilliant,” said Holm.
“Why so?”
“If you were seeing your partner for the first time in a month, would you go out to listen to some rabblerouser who was probably going to get you both killed?”
CHAPTER 92
“Wan’ me to take — guard down?” Tobry was worse, slurring his words. He was constantly checking behind himself now, his eyes wide and fearful.
It was midnight, and the entrance to the women’s Empound was guarded. Tali pulled him back out of sight.
“We can’t risk magery here.” Can’t risk you using it either, in your condition, she thought. You’d get it wrong and give us away.
“Why not?”
“The enemy’s quarters are just up there.” Tali pointed back to a broad tunnel leading off this one, “and the entrance is heavily guarded. If they hear anything suspicious they’ll be out in force.”
“How are you planning to get into the Empound?” said Holm.
“As a slave,” said Tali. The condition she most feared, but there was no other way.
They went back and hid in an empty storeroom a hundred yards away. Tali tried to prepare herself mentally, but it was hard to focus when Tobry was throwing up blood in a corner.
He wiped his mouth and staggered across. “What if you’re seen?” He sounded a little better.
“Slaves are allowed to leave the Empound at night to relieve themselves. The squatteries are around the corner.”
“Why don’t they have them inside the Empound?” said Holm. “That’d make more sense.”
“Cythonians are fanatical about cleanliness. Even with all the lime they use, the squatteries stink. They’re all well away from the living areas, with special air wafters and pipework to get rid of the smell.”
“But if they recognise you — ”
“Why would they? Lots of Pale are blonde, and most are small. I’m a common type.”
“Never common,” said Tobry. “I’d better come with you.”
“You’re tanned and weathered! Any fool would know you’re not one of us. Why do you think we’re called the Pale?”
“That’s not the real reason, is it?” said Tobry bitterly. “You’re afraid I’ll crack up.”
Tali couldn’t deal with his troubles as well. The challenge facing her once she got into the Empound — if she did — was too overwhelming. “You said it. I didn’t.”
His look told her he knew exactly what she meant.
“You know what you’ve got to do,” said Tali. “Go down past the subsistery — the Pale’s dining hall — the entrance looks like the mouth of a grinning eel. Then head around and to the right. Break into the weapons stores and the tool stores — ”
“What if we can’t?” said Holm.
“If your lock-breaking skills don’t work, Tobry will have to use magery. Find anything that can be used as weapons — enough for thousands. Especially heatstone — there’s a storeroom full of it, here.” She showed him on the map. “Once you’ve done that, come back, deal with the Empound guard and keep watch. If you run into any of the enemy, and you probably will, you know what to do.”
“Why not deal with the guard now?” said Holm.
“The guards change in an hour, and it’s going to take me longer than that to get thousands of Pale up and talk them into rebelling.” Assuming she could. “Off you go; I’ve got to get undressed.”
They went out. Tali took a length of green rag from her pack, stripped and put her clothes, boots and knife in. She rumpled up her hair and fastened the loincloth around her hips.
And she was a slave again. A half-naked, helpless slave that any Cythonian could strike down. She could feel the slave’s mind-set rousing, the hope draining out of her. Tali fought it. No matter how she was dressed, she was the Lady Thalalie vi Torgrist, here to save her people.
After taking a deep breath, she adjusted her loincloth, readjusted it, then went out, practising the slave’s listless walk, the downcast eyes and dangling arms. Around the corner, up the gentle slope towards the guard post.
It was hard to breathe; a knot tightened in her belly. You look like a common slave, she reminded herself, like all the others here. Why would any guard take notice of you?
She watched him from the corner of an eye as she passed. He looked up, then down again. Slaves went in, slaves went out. As long as there was no ruckus in the Empound, he wasn’t concerned. In a couple of hours there would be a huge ruckus, but by then Tobry and Holm would have dealt with the new guard. If Tobry was still on his feet.
And if he hadn’t had an attack of shifter madness. She should have given Holm the emergency potion, which was in the bottom of her pack in the storeroom. Too late now. She couldn’t go back.
Tali followed the tunnel in. It curved around to the right and the wall art here was ferocious and threatening, full of toothed beasts in savage landscapes under lowering skies.
Her greatest challenge was yet to come, and it was the one she was least well equipped for. What if the Pale wouldn’t rebel? Why would they listen to her, an escaped slave who had stupidly come back to slavery? What if they laughed at her or mocked her? The thought of standing up before such a vast sea of hostile faces almost made her wet herself.
Tali plodded to a stop, feeling the panic rising. The courier could have reached the matriarchs by now; he could be handing them the death order. Would they debate it, wait until the morning, or act at once? Eighty-five thousand lives depended on the answer.
The women’s Empound had the same layout as the men’s quarters, curving slices like honeycomb each containing thousands of little cells arranged around a circular assembly area a couple of hundred yards across. The arching ceiling was held up by thick, octagonal columns arranged in arcs, carved from the native rock. The only difference was that the cells and the assembly area were larger here. On mating nights the Empound had to accommodate many more Pale.
She crossed the assembly area, went to the first cell, shoved the door open and said, “Get up. The enemy are coming to kill you.”
“What?” a man’s voice said thickly.
“Kill us?” cried a woman.
Tali did not reply. She ran down several doors and said the same thing, then scrambled up to the next level of the honeycomb of cells, then along and up again, repeating her message but offering no explanation. She crossed to the next section of the honeycomb, then to the section after that.