The bandit began thrashing about, banging his head back frantically against the ledge in an attempt to split his own skull open, to end the torture. Edeard's third hand swiftly immobilized him.
'It was necessary, the Gilmorn gurgled. He was having trouble breathing now, sweat was soaking his clothes.
'Necessary? a disgusted Edeard asked. 'Necessary for what? You have killed — murdered — hundreds of people. Thousands. You have brought ruin to whole villages.
'One nation.
'What? Edeard though he had misheard the phrase. The Slogan. Owain's slogan. Owain.
'We have to be one.
A furious Edeard edged the boulder round again. The man's hips burst.
'Owain! Edeard yelled, his voice full of hatred.
The Gilmorn laughed manically, allowing blood to foam out of his mouth. 'One world, one nation, ruled by those of us who were born with destiny in our blood.
'You did all this to crown an emperor? You… you… Dear Lady, for this? Edeard rolled the boulder forwards and kept it going until the screams and snappings ended abruptly. 'Lady, no, he murmured in anguish.
'For all your strength, you're so weak, the Gilmorn's soul said contemptuously.
Edeard spun round.
The bandit's spectral essence stood above the puddle of his own blood spreading out from under the boulder. He gave Dinlay and Macsen a scornful glance. 'You could have joined with us, Waterwalker. Cousin Ranalee offered you the world. A whole people united in veneration of your strength. And you turned her down. For what? Them? What can these pitiful tragedies ever give you?
'Honious awaits you, an incensed Macsen said. 'Do not tarry.
The Gilmorn started to ascend. 'And guess what, Waterwalker, my family still gets to fuck your little Novice whore. His shape blurred as it shot upwards to be lost amid the glowing beauty of the nebulas.
'Salrana? Edeard murmured in dismay. 'Kristabel!
'Kanseen, Macsen said. 'Edeard, what is happening in Makkathran? If Owain is to be emperor, this trap for us can only be a part of his madness.
'Lady damn it, Edeard spat. He scurried down the slope, and began to run along the gully.
Several of the bandits' terrestrial horses were still tethered to their posts. They were skittish, but Edeard's skilled longtalk calmed them. He found a saddle among the packs and threw it over the first horse.
'Six days since we left, Macsen said. 'What can they have done in six days?
'It'll be another two before I can get back, Edeard said in anguish as he mounted up. 'Perhaps Owain is waiting to hear this ambush was successful and I am dead. He knows I can stop him, that the city sides with me.
'Yes, Dinlay said. 'We must hope for that.
Edeard pictured a map, trying to work out the shortest way back to the main road through the mountains. Disheartened, he realized it was back the way they'd come, past Mount Alvice. But before, they'd ridden carefully, lumbering along beneath trees and in deep ravines so as to avoid notice. Now he had no such inhibitions. He spurred the horse on, and instructed the others to follow.
Dawn found him already long way past Mount Alvice. By mid-morning he was back on the road, and speeding east. He had to switch horses before lunch, the one he'd ridden from the ambush was nearly dead from fatigue. The next one was gone in the middle of the afternoon. Edeard himself was worn out, but sheer determination kept him going. The next two horses only lasted a couple of hours each.
He came to a village as the sun began to dip towards the mountains, knowing full well he looked like something straight out of Honious. They might have been nervous about his appearance, but the villagers knew of the Waterwalker, and gold coinage spoke a welcome language everywhere. He paid a ridiculous amount for three fresh horses, and raced off into the evening.
Despite the cramped muscles, the bruised and bloody chafing on his thighs he kept on going through the night. Morning saw him arrive at the foothills of the Donsori range, with the Iguru Plain spread out below. Makkathran sat on the horizon, the gold sunlight already catching the tips of its towers. He let out a sob of relief at the sight of it, even though he was completely exhausted.
'I have to know, Macsen said, and with that he was gone, flashing on ahead through the warm winds blowing off the land.
'I will stay with you, Dinlay promised.
Edeard urged his last tired horse down the switchback road. That was when he met the caravan winding its way up into the mountains. It was unusual for a caravan to be moving so early in the day. He stopped to talk with the master.
'The city is in chaos, the old man told him nervously. 'There are men with guns on every street claiming to represent the new Mayor. The militia regiments marched in two days ago, and the constables tried to stop them. There was fighting. I have never seen so many dead.
'No, Edeard groaned. 'Oh Lady no. Wait! The Mayor called in the regiments?
'Yes, but not Finitan. He's dead, and nobody knows how that happened. Owain has claimed the Orchard Palace, and the gunmen supported him.
Edeard desperately wanted to know about Kristabel, but the caravan master wouldn't know. 'I need fresh horses. I can pay.
The old man gave him a grim look, then eventually nodded. 'We won't be back this way for a year, probably more, so 1 suppose we will be spared retribution.
'Retribution?
'The Upper Council has declared you outlaw, Waterwalker. I… we heard you were dead.
'Not yet, Edeard said through gritted teeth. 'They have already found it is not that easy.
'Good. We will swap your horses. I don't need money from you.
'Thank you.
'Finitan dead, Dinlay said sombrely as Edeard rode across the Iguru Plain on a long-legged ge-horse. 'How dare they commit such an act? The people elected him.
'This has been years in the making, Edeard answered numbly.
'All the bandit attacks, the fear in the provinces, even the gangs loose in the city; all designed to force Querencia to accept a single government, one with Owain at its head. And then I arrived. How ironic is that, his own campaign of terror made me flee to the city.
'But what can you do now?
'Throw him out of the Mayor's office, restore the rightful government. Even as he spoke it, he knew how false it sounded.
'Good, but the spectre's tone was uncertain. 'That's good.
Edeard didn't bother with concealment, nor even a seclusion haze. He didn't care that people saw him. He wanted word to spread into the city. He wanted people to have hope again. To know the Waterwalker was coming.
All would be put right.
There was a lot of traffic on the road. All of it heading away from Makkathran. Ragged groups stopped to stare as he galloped past. Several cheered, but the majority shook their heads in dismay at the sight of him. Longtalk rippled along the length of the road.
'The Waterwalker is still alive.
'The Waterwalker is coming back.
'The Waterwalker will stop this.
'The Waterwalker is too late.
'Too late.
It disheartened him simply because it matched his own suspicions. Apart from Kristabel and a few friends, what was there for him really? He was never going to save the city and the world from Owain's kind. All that was left now was a rescue attempt, and a life in exile.
It was afternoon when he reached the final approach to the city; riding hard under the fanciful variety of trees lining the road. He was the only traveller now, and his farsight swept out to review his reception.
When he burst out from the end of the ancient partition of trees even the sheep had vanished from the quarter-mile band of grassland encircling the crystal wall. The North Gate was closed. A quick farsight check showed the other two gates shut as well. Half a regiment of militia was drawn up in a protective semi-circle around the mighty gate, a hundred pistols lined up along the road. At the front of them was a squad of guards in the uniform of the Weapons Guild. They carried rapid-fire guns.