Escribed

By Ryan Morning

Marked by a monstrous bandit, Ailred finds himself afflicted with a curse he does not understand. With the aid of a soulless guide he seeks an audience with a woman older than the Unificated Imperium itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Morning
• Release date: Oct 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370239641

Ryan Morning

Copy-editor from NW England. Fan of speculative fiction and RPGs

Book preview

Escribed

by Ryan Morning

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 Ryan Morning

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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No-one noticed the bloodstains. They didn’t give Ailred a second glance.

His tattered finery rendered him invisible to the market's resident merchants and pickpockets. Neither wealthy enough to flatter for coin nor poor enough to chase away with a fistful of carving knife and a mouthful of epithets. Perhaps the butchers thought he was one of their own.

He waited an hour, increasingly self-conscious and awkward although nobody else in the square paid him the slightest bit of attention. An experience he was finding thoroughly alien.

A woman emerged from the crowd and cleared her throat, startling him.

Oh! So you are… Ailred stumbled over the word. It sounded like an insult in and of itself, not something you'd ever open a conversation with. One of them?

Indeed, said the woman.

Ailred examined her critically. She wore a long coat with far too many bags and belts hanging from her person. Her hair had been completely shaved off, more likely a response to lice than an attempt to be fashionable. But he had few mental images of how… those people were supposed to look in the first place.

Weren't they meant to be bedecked with tattoos and scars, signs of their penance and self-flagellation? This woman could’ve passed for a courier, maybe a scout. A healthy working sort, certainly not cursed and forsaken.

Ailred wasn't convinced. And how do you know?

Babies wail when I draw near. Dogs bark at me when I pass by.

None of those things seem like particularly strong evidence.

Oh, and seers spit on me and call me soulless, Letha added.

Ailred thought of how to respond to that. He decided that he couldn't.

So either my entire life up until this point has been a cruel jest on the part of the kindred of seers, or I am, indeed, one of the soulless. She held out her hand meaningfully.

Ailred blinked at it obliviously, then understood. Oh, of course. Yes. In advance, as I promised. Four—

Five.

—ah, five crowns for safe passage to Caerinanis, then ten on arrival. He swiftly counted out the payment, unhindered by having to use the odd silver decim and copper cent to round up the amount. She watched him like a hawk with an uncommonly firm grasp of numbers.

Very well then. The woman offered a suddenly empty hand. She'd managed to pocket the money without Ailred even registering that she'd moved.

Ailred shook her hand rather than kissed it, as he had read that in Caerin they frowned on that sort of thing.

My name is Letha, as I assume you realised from our correspondence. But your advertisement didn't tell me yours.

Ailred, said Ailred. He froze, wondering if he’d made a huge mistake, then eased up when some internal calculation let him off the hook. Yes. Ailred, pleased to meet you.

Mmm. Likewise. Let us be off. We can reach Hozstead before nightfall: they have a perfectly serviceable inn.

She turned away, and Ailred goggled at the suggestion. Wait a moment, are you saying we're going to walk there?

Yes. Perambulate. Stroll. Use our feet. It's all the rage.

Ailred struggled with himself before recalling that she already had his money. He took off after her, fighting to get back within earshot as she wove in and out of the crowds and stalls.

But there are ehrgeiz and sotonim and all manner of ghastly beasts!

Letha whirled around, very nearly catching Ailred with a swinging satchel.

Then you don't know anything, she said simply. Ehrgeiz won't take down anything unless it's grand enough to make a meal for their whole pack and sotonim never come this far inland.

I don’t see why I should have to—

Letha poked him in the chest. Ailred couldn't have been more affronted if she'd aped a seer and spat on his shoes.

"You wanted to travel to Caerinanis. Your letter said quietly, not quickly. A horse, let alone a coach, will attract attention. Ehrgeiz will try and eat it, the Imperium's soldiers will try and tax it, and trying to take one through the gates of the City? No. We walk. Until such a time that I decide we don't need to."

#

The City was said to have three gates, and Ailred had always taken that at face value. And it did; three mighty fortified gates named after famous generals. But the notion of the City walls being impenetrable was a romantic fantasy. The inner quarter was constantly patrolled, but the outer defences had fallen into disrepair and people mostly came and went as they pleased. Only the nobles at the centre of the metropolis were considered worth protecting from the wandering outcasts and charlatans of the wider, wilder Imperium.

With that in mind Ailred expected the sewer