Chapter Forty-Three: Tsunami

Chapter Forty-Three: Tsunami

The True Hall was not what Tom expected, though perhaps he should have raised his estimation of the Hunters after having seen Vals hideaway.

As they came to the end of the tunnel, winding down into the earth below the great slab of rusty rock, Tom was suitably impressed.

A wide, open floor space, at least a hundred paces across, dominated the huge, circular room. Or Hall, to be more exact. Stairs descended to it from the tunnel, and it was ringed all around with tiers for an audience to sit. There was enough room to seat hundreds, and they had hundreds to be seated.

Their group shuffled round one of the tiers, finding a mostly open stretch and arranging themselves on it. The Hall, already half full, filled the rest of the way quickly.

Tom thought that most of The Lords more direct supporters were seated on the bottom few tiers, closest to the open floor. The Hunters were no prim and proper bunch, trending hardy and weather worn, but those gathered in those first few tiers were a particularly rough and rugged looking lot.

He saw the Hags insubstantial shape, hunched in a seat in the first row. Honeyfield, unassuming in the main, and yet somehow patently evil, sat nearby her. All those filling those first few tiers looked ripped straight from the stories mothers had used to scare Wayrest children into compliance with for generations.

The trickle of Hunters into the Hall slowed, then stopped. The quiet murmur of conversation died off too, as one man took the floor.

The Lord of Blood.

Tall and commanding, he strode to the centre of the Hall, arresting everyones attention as if it was his divine right.

If Hunters were monsters from childrens stories, then the Lord of Blood was who the adults in Wayrest lost sleep over.

No one seemed to know exactly why he had been exiled. Some said he was a Watchman, others a Guard, a small few that he had been a part of the Church. He was a noble in one story, a pauper in others, and both in some. He murdered children, or nobles, or noble children, for some inscrutable grudge. He killed clergymen and artisans, or merchants and enchanters. Some say he murdered half the Council of his day, and that was why no one could agree. But all the stories agreed on a few salient points.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

He had manifested Blood. He had murdered many people. And in the thirty-something years since his exile, his reputation had only grown.

Stories of murders on Reapings fell at his feet. Villagers going missing without a trace - The Lords work. Whispers of rebellion fomenting in the Hunters were attributed to him as well.

Now that Tom saw him in the flesh, he could believe every word.

The man was impeccably presented, unlike his bloodthirsty fellows, and yet he gave the sense of a wolf brushing and trimming his coat to make his way past your threshold. He was violence and bloodshed, sadism and resentment, rage and bitterness, all locked in a calculating cage.

Tom recognised the cage from his father. But he had known the combinations, the calculus that would see it swing open, intimately. The Lord was an unknown. Any misstep could set him off. Tom could see that, just like his father, the Lord knew it. Knew that others knew it, too. And he revelled in it.

Tom found a sudden and intense desire to be anywhere but here. Just as quick as the flare came, it was extinguished, replaced by cold, iron resistance. He refused to cower in the presence of bullies. He would not be that man, was not that man, anymore.

Even if he died for it. So be it.

Thank you all, for making the journey, The Lord spoke into silence. His voice was cultured and smooth, the combination tainting his words with an oily slickness. The acoustics of the hall carried his voice to each of them clearly.

It has been some years since we last gathered. We have much to discuss.

He stopped then, looking at something he held in his hand. Tom could not see what it was.

You all must have heard by now. About the orcs in the Deep. How many of you have seen them? he asked, as if he didnt really care for the answer.

A few hands went up, then a few more. Val raised hers, and Tom with her. All told, it seemed maybe twenty of them had seen them.

As I expected. There are more, who I suspect have run afoul of them. He idly rolled the object in his hands between his fingers. Unfortunately, he added, almost as an afterthought.

They are somewhere in the north east. The infection has fully set in, and now can only grow.

There was muttering at that, grumbling, that slowly raised in volume, until at the pivotal moment, just as the reins were about to slip his grasp, he spoke again.

In six months, at the most, Wayrest will be under siege.

The room, fallen silent, now once more surged with discord.

What do we do?

I dont believe you!

We must tell Wayrest!

We should leave!

How many are there?!

The Lord simply stood, a small smile on his face, letting the exclamations play themselves out. Eventually, they withered.

I have a proposal, for you all, said the Lord, now looking again at his hand.

I propose we do nothing.

For a moment, Tom swore he could hear the grass growing above their heads. Then came the shouting once again.

Nothing!?

Leave the walls to me, said the Lord.

No one said anything. A long moment of silence dragged out. Then Val stood.

Say you knock a hole in the walls, she asked, sounding curious. Say you oust the Council. What state does that leave the city in? And who would take charge? You, I presume?

The Lord gave her another condescending smile, as if he had a skill just for them.

Why knock a hole in them, when I can just fly over? he asked. I hold no designs on running Wayrest, either. That sounds like a terribly dry way to spend my life. No, I simply want to dismantle the power structures that allow people like us to end up in a place like this.

He gestured about himself, to the room, to all of them, drawing them in.

I propose we wait for the orcs to put Wayrest under siege. They wont get past the walls, not soon, anyhow. Then we swoop in, and gut the fucking Council, and the fucking Church, and the fucking Nobles. And with any luck, the rest wont be so stupid as to turn away our help breaking the siege.

Youre forgetting something. A voice rang out, clear into the room. It took Tom a moment to realise it was his own. Every eye swivelled to him. Val was looking at him with a baffled expression. Jace and Scriber too. The whole room, for that matter.

Who are you, might I ask? Youre not familiar. The Lord enquired, polite, for all the edge on the question.

Tom, he said. Tom Cutter.

Ah, the young lad who first brought us the news of orcs. How heroic. Tell me, Tom, what have I forgotten? I confess, my memory isnt what it used to be.

Muffled laughter bubbled around the room. Tom felt his cheeks burning. But he would not be cowed.

They have Ideals. Surely I cant be the only one whos seen it.

The Lord paused, unsure.

Yes. I hadnt forgotten, I merely thought it might be a fancy, he said. What Im unsure of is, what difference does it make if they do?

The walls, Tom said, growing more confident. You said they wont get through them anytime soon. If they have Ideals, though

He let the thought trail off, and he could see comprehension dawning in the other Hunters. A few began to nod their agreement with him, then more.

They wont have the walls down quick regardless of whether they have Ideals or not. If they could, then the Hunters would have broken in and given the Council what they deserve decades ago, the Lord said dismissively.

We cant know that, he pushed. Theyve never had them before. Maybe theyre different from ours. Stronger, maybe. Maybe theyve more of them. The stories all say that theres always more orcs. Stands to reason theyd have more Ideals, too.

Thats a lot of maybes to hang our chance at freedom on, lad. You might be a Hunter, but youre young. Youll see how things work, in time. I propose we keep with the plan.

Tom floundered.

No harm in checking, is there? This from Val again. Cant fly all of us in there on your dragon, anyway.

Were Hunters. No better scouts for hundreds of miles in any direction. I propose we make use of our skills. The orcs wont be at the walls for several months yet, you say. Let us use the time. Might be itll help us, when were inside the walls again, and theyre breathing down our necks.

Agreement rose steadily through the room, and Val sat back down.

I dont see why these two plans cant coexist, the Lord said, a thoughtful expression on his face. Yes, I can see how it might be useful to have some of us scout the orcs.

He paused for several moments. The room grew restless. They could feel the Gathering was almost done.

I will pick those who will be part of my strike force over the walls. Those who are willing, scout the orcs, and find as much information as you can: how many of them are there, confirm their Ideals, and how strong they are. Any information you can, and bring it back here. The rest of you, prepare. We will have need of you, in one fashion or another, before long. When the siege begins, find your way here. We will get you inside the city.

Then he abruptly made for the exit, and the gathering began to dissolve as well. Toms group began to file for the exit, and after some interminable time, waiting their turn to shuffle down the tunnel, tussling with his inner turmoil, they made it back to their camp, outside.

Madness! Jace hissed. The Watch will slaughter us all!

Val was quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

Not much we can do about it now, said Scriber. Hes got their blood up. Put visions of hot food every meal and a soft bed every night in their heads. The boulders rolling.

We can still stop this, Val said, stirring from her reverie. But we need to move quickly.

How? said Moth, disbelief clear on her face. Truth be told, Im not even sure I want it stopped.

We need to get proof of the orcs and bring them to Wayrest. If we dont theyll be caught even less prepared for this all than they should. We can try warning them of the plot, too, but you know what theyre like when you thrust a problem at them.

Theyll ignore us, Scriber said confidently. Theyll think were trying to wheedle our way back into the city by ratting on other rats.

If they dont believe us about The Lord, thats on them, Val said decisively. If the Council gets swept up by The Lord, Im not sure that would be a bad thing either. But if theyre unprepared for the orcs, and the orcs have Ideals, and The Lord murders all the leaders while theyre under siege, well we might not have a city to even dream of going back to.

Her words fell into solemn silence.

Tom and I will leave tomorrow, she said. We have work to do.