As Far As You Know
Teasers
Fire and Sin
Laying in the darkness under sacks of grain and on the rough timbers of the hold, Edmund was awakened by the faint smell of fresh smoke. In a panic, he threw the grain off and rolled to his feet, drawing his sword and peering into the unlit length of the hold. Above him through the decks, shouts and the creak of ship-mounted catapults reported that a battle was underway. In a moment, he was poised underneath the locked trap door that led to the deck of the ship. Confident that at least the sun was down, he threw the bolt and climbed out. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
Around and above him, men shouted, fought and died. Dozens of crusader ships lined the northern shore of Constantinople, their bows nearly touching the city’s sea walls. Scores of ladders had been propped against the walls, and groups of armed Venetians clamored up to the top of the wall, under the cover of archers and crossbow men. From the sides of the assaulted wall, two groups of Greek archers were firing back at the ships and the climbers as fast as they could reload.
Edmund grabbed the shoulder of a young Venetian sailor who was carrying buckets of water to throw onto the main sail, which was peppered with flaming arrows. “Why are we attacking already? The plan was to wait until the French had secured the shore!” The lad looked at Edmund in confusion, and stuttered a reply. “The knights were halted on the beach this afternoon, my lord. The Doge ordered an attack on the sea walls while they are less defended.” Edmund glanced around for Theodoric, but saw no one else of the Blood amid the clamor of battle. Clouds of black smoke were rising over the city walls now too, and Edmund realized that he was alone on the doorstep of a city his army was attacking, without having made peace with Constantinople’s Patriarch.
Running to the base of a ladder and grabbing hold of it, he could feel the long wooden poles shift as the ship swayed in the water. A wind blew from the Northeast, driving the ships up against the wall but also rocking them. Hastily, Edmund began to climb. He soon caught up to a sailor who’s progress on the rickety ladder was much slower than his own. “Make haste or make way, you oaf!” Startled, the sailor turned and looked back down at the angry French knight behind him, and therefore failed to see the arrow that pierced his neck.
As the man fell into the narrow gap between the ship and the sea wall, Edmund hurried to the top and leaped onto the parapet. Again, the sight that met him threatened to overwhelm his senses. The great city of Constantinople lay stretched out to the South and West. Like the first capital of the Roman Empire, this one was also built over seven hills. Unlike Rome however, everywhere one looked there were palaces, temples and magnificent public monuments rising up through the trees. In the distance, the dome of the Hagia Sophia, the finest church in all the world, glittered with the light of braziers lit somewhere inside.
A fresh wave of smoke obscured his vision and brought his gaze back to his immediate surroundings. Below the wall, an entire street was burning. The Venetians had pushed into the city only to be driven back by Greek reinforcements, and as they retreated, the invaders had set as many buildings on fire as they could. Now the flames were spreading outward from the wall and consuming the houses along the neighboring streets. Crowds of people were struggling to throw belongings out of windows and doorways as sparks blew onto the thatched roofs of their homes.
“Welcome to Byzantium, Sir Ryecroft.” Edmund spun around, looking for the source of the voice that had seemed to speak in his ears. He saw no one on the wall except Venetians. “You cannot see me but I am near. You must meet my servant at the cistern of Aetius. There you will be given direction out of the city.”
“Out of the city? But we just arrived!” Edmund spoke into the wind. A pair of wounded Venetians hobbled past, reaching for the ladder to return to the ship. Neither seemed to have heard him.
“You must hurry. There are those within these walls who are stronger than you, and who would wish you harm. Do not concern yourself with the mortals, for they will not see you. Jump to the ground.”
Edmund hesitated only for a moment, looking around at the Venetians on the wall, and leaped down to the street. Landing hard, he rose to his feet and forced them to heal. Glancing up, he fully expected to see shocked faces staring down at him, but there were none. Looking ahead at the burning buildings, he decided to run around the fires to the east to avoid them.
Traveling as quickly as he could, keeping an arrow shot’s distance between himself and the flames, Edmund thought to himself that all this was madness. Here he was, running along the paved streets of the richest city in the world, a member of the army that was apparently now trying to destroy it, looking for a place he had never seen, while racing an inferno moving with alarming speed from the wind off the Golden Horn. As he ran amid throngs of mortals fleeing the fires, he was thankful that none seemed to notice this strangely dressed European striding with the speed of a galloping horse. He searched to the East for the cistern, then to the West. Edmund was just about to ask someone where it might be when he saw it: A large oval pond surrounded by trees. Mortals were gathering there, perhaps intending to seek safety in the water when the fires reached this far.
Stopping at the low stone wall that encircled the cistern, he felt the presence of eyes upon him. Across the wide street, a figure stood in the shadows of the balcony of a two-story villa. Edmund crossed the street, and, now used to being ignored in this strange city, simply leaped up onto the balcony from the street. Theodoric stood there, and calmly nodded toward him as if nothing was wrong. Another man murmured and muttered to himself while seated inside the room on the floor, surrounded by a circle of six candles.
“So the beach has not been held?” Theodoric addressed his companion. Like Edmund, he was still wearing the clothes he had arrived in. No doubt he would have been noticed by every mortal in the city if he had not been aided in getting here like Edmund had been.
“The beach has been held, but just barely, I think. But the plan was not followed. “The Venetians have attacked the sea walls. They are being driven back to their ships now, but they have started a fire. Soon this entire district of the city will be burnt. I hope your master realizes how difficult it will be to barter our passage from here now that our army is destroying Constantinople. That is assuming we don’t burn to death first, of course.”
“Do not worry…about the fire.” The other man had ceased his muttering and rose. He wore a thick brown monk’s robe, and a large silver cross hung from a chain around his neck. His features were European. Green eyes flickered underneath his shaven scalp. Edmund turned and stepped into the room. “Who are you, sir?” There was an odd quality to this man’s aura. Edmund could see dark shadows within it, and peculiar motes of light. “Are you Theodoric’s master?”
“No…I serve…another master. I am Brother Jon, of House Tremere.”
The word sent a chill through Edmund, but he forced his voice to remain level. “And what, pray tell, would the likes of you have to do with Theodoric and myself?”
“I was sent…to seek help from the Patriarch of Constantinople. That mission is lost…and now I have a new one. I am to help you capture the Persian demon.”
A dull sense of horror filled Edmund’s mind. “You have spoken with the Patriarch? And you know of our mission? Then we have failed. Certainly the Patriarch will take the mission out of our hands.”
“The Patriarch is dead.” Theodoric stepped into the room. “He was slain last night by this city’s other Elders.”
“That is why your crusaders…are being allowed to enter the city.” Brother Jon spoke as if distracted, or as if someone else was telling him what to say. “No doubt…the Cainites are fighting amongst themselves…to claim Michael’s throne. But we have one night…to flee Constantinople before…we are discovered.”
Edmund looked from the Tremere to the Gangrel, then back again. “And what aid can you give us, that you think we need so much?”
“I have created a distraction…by calling a wind to drive fire through the city.” Edmund’s eyebrows rose. Outside the window, dark smoke had already hidden the view of the cistern. “And…I took this…from the Patriarch’s throne room while…Septima Dominica and the others slew him.” Brother Jon reached into the folds of his robe, which Edmund now saw was not nearly as thick as he had thought, and revealed a folded cloth spun from yellow linen, cloth-of-gold, and black wool threads. A strange symbol vaguely resembling an eye was stitched into it, seemingly primitive but made with captivating skill…
Theodoric nudged Edmund out of his transfixion with the tapestry, and Brother Jon returned it to its hiding place even as Edmund noticed that the object carried an aura of its own. “This is…a burial shroud. It was found…in Persia centuries ago…at the devastated tomb of an Ancient.”
Another chill passed through Edmund. “And why do you think we need this?”
“Because the Malkavian we are hunting…pulled it from the Ancient…when he took its blood. This…is the only thing that can keep the Malkavian’s soul…buried.”
Theodoric said to the others, “It is time we left.” A moment later, shrieks and coughs from the smoke-filled street outside signaled that the flames had nearly reached the villa.
“We…must flee northward…along the Golden Horn and then…take horses around the city…back to the crusader ships.” One by one, the three Cainites jumped from the balcony to the ground. Black smoke was pouring around the corners of the villa, and the crackling of flames could be heard from the northern side.
“Brother Jon, you certainly know that the entire city is burning to the north. We cannot simply walk through the flames!”
“Ah…but we shall.” Brother Jon began walking straight toward the corner of the villa where black smoke and sparks were pouring toward them. He shouted behind him, “Stay close behind me!”
Edmund and Theodoric looked at each other, and then at Brother Jon, who they were sure was about to immolate himself. “He’s mad!” Edmund said softly to his companion, even as they watched a plume of wind-driven flame sprout from around the villa’s burning wall.
The flame surged toward the Tremere, and stopped. It was if a round shield stood between him and the fire, keeping the flames and the smoke at bay. Brother Jon stopped, and looked back at the others with his hands on his hips. “Have faith in me, my brothers. I…have no wish to…bathe in flames before…reaching Hell either. Now come along.”
Theodoric paused for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind and ran up to the Tremere. He too, was protected from the flames. Edmund muttered a quiet prayer and forced himself to walk forward. As the flames leapt out again he cringed and covered his face. His Beast was snarling in fear and threatened to rise to the surface.
“Be at peace, my friend. As long…as you stay close to me, no fire…may harm you for the…rest of the hour. But that…is all the time we have, so…we must make haste. Now, follow!” Brother Jon began walking into the inferno, which parted before him. Edmund and Theodoric reluctantly followed. Fortunately, after the first line of flames had been crossed, only patches of fire remained in the burning ruins of the once beautiful district. They continued to make their way to the edge of the city, in safety but not in secret.
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