City of Mist: A Cities of Power Novel

By Jessica Baverstock

An assassination has rocked the city of Sanctum, bringing a tyrannical rule to an end.

Sahri the Unswerving, living in squalor and heavy with child, discovers her husband is next in line to rule as Decision Maker of Sanctum.

Catapulted from poverty to wealth, Sahri embraces her new life of security and comfort, but her husband’s first act as Decision Maker threatens to plunge their household into financial ruin.

In order to protect her unborn child’s future and inheritance, Sahri must learn the ways of Sanctum’s elite while finding a way to circumvent her husband’s plan.

As Sahri’s actions endanger her own life and that of her child, a mystery still hangs over Sanctum: Who is responsible for the assassination? And will they strike again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Baverstock
• Release date: Jun 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310319662

Jessica Baverstock

Jessica Baverstock has been a storyteller since she learned how to talk, and dreamed of becoming a writer from the day she first saw a typewriter at age 3. She writes an eclectic mix of endearing stories, crossing from science-fiction to historical fiction and everything in between.She is an Australian author and blogger. In her early twenties she moved to China. Now she lives in the South West of Australia with her husband and a modest book collection. When she's not busy working on her next story or globetrotting across oceans, she's usually curled up watching a good movie.

Book preview

City of Mist: A Cities of Power Novel

Copyright 2015 Jessica Baverstock

Published by Jessica Baverstock at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

About the Author

Other books by Jessica Baverstock

For Deborah

With thanks for your belief in me

Chapter One

THE SUDDEN MOVEMENT of her husband beside her woke Sahri the Unswerving. She opened her eyes to find him, Raltheer the Renowned, sitting up in bed – his face marked by the coarse, crumpled fabric of his pillow, his red-rimmed eyes blinking as if confused.

What is it? she said. She moved to sit up, but the dull ache of her back and the weight of her pregnant belly overcame her.

Sounds in the street, he said.

He leaned across to the window set into the whitewashed walls, tugged the moldy curtains aside and looked out, though Sahri could not think why. From where she lay she could already tell the Mist was sluggish today. The street below would be completely shrouded and the sounds muffled, though she did detect an unusual rumbling of collective voices.

The hammering of a fist on their door made Sahri jump.

Who is that? said Raltheer, looking across at her.

How am I to know? You look. She shoved him toward the edge of the bed.

He clambered from between the covers and straightened his nightgown before crossing the room to the door. He opened the door and greeted the hammerer with, Good morn.

Sahri shrunk into the sheets not wishing to be seen in her morning condition, unwashed from the night’s sweats, hair disheveled.

Have you heard? said a man’s voice from beyond the door. Sahri recognized the shrill tones of their neighbor, Prontor the Ambivalent. All of Sanctum is abuzz. The Decision Maker, his son, and several other members of their house have been killed.

Sahri sat up in bed, wide-eyed. She noted Raltheer’s face turning pale.

As-sas-si-nat-ed, said Prontor, pronouncing each syllable as if his knowledge of the word should impress them.

Raltheer stumbled back, reaching for the support of their only sturdy chair. He leaned on it with such weight that Sahri feared it would give way.

How? Raltheer mumbled.

Prontor appeared to take Raltheer’s movement as an invitation to enter, for he stepped through the doorway. The single room that was their home seemed twice as small with an extra presence. There is not yet an official statement, but some are saying it was a form of poison air. Prontor took the opportunity to scan the room until his gaze alighted on Sahri. He smiled at her.

Sahri pulled the bedsheets up to her chin and said, How is it this news has you in such high spirits?

Do you not see what this means, woman? he said.

We have only just heard of this news, she snapped. Forgive us if our minds are not as quick to consider the benefits of the situation.

However, even as she spoke, her own mind was at work piecing together the implications. She was therefore not surprised when Prontor pointed to Raltheer and said, Our Raltheer is next in line as Decision Maker – in charge of all Sanctum.

Raltheer sat down on the chair and cradled his head in his hands.

Prontor’s familiarity in calling him ‘Our Raltheer’ irked Sahri enough for her to toss aside the sheets and begin maneuvering herself out of the bed. After all, if any person of poverty had claim over Raltheer, it was she and only she. We are grateful you have brought us the news, she said, placing her bare feet on the damp stone floor and steadying herself to rise. Now leave us to ponder it in peace.

Prontor’s face dropped. But the people in the streets below wish to know what he has to say. He pointed at Raltheer who still did not look up. What will he do? Will he speak for us? Will he—

Enough, snapped Sahri, lurching to her feet. You have just brought news of his family’s death. Do you now expect him to simply shrug shock from his shoulders and start forming plans?

"He has no need to form plans, said Prontor. Has he not discussed his thoughts on these matters with us many eves, long into the night? His visions of change have given rise to hope and dreams amid our streets. Do not dash them now, woman."

I have no interest in your hopes and dreams, she said, marching across the room as fast as her aching joints would allow and grabbing Prontor by the arm. I only have interest in the people who reside within this room. She pushed him towards the doorway. My husband is still in shock at this news. When he is ready to speak, that is when you will hear his words, and not before.

Very well, Prontor said, stepping back into the hallway with a displeased look. But do not—

Sahri cut off his words with a slam of the door.

She drew in breath and then turned to lay her hand on her husband’s shoulder.

This news, she said, it is a shock to you, is it not?

Raltheer raised his head from his hands. Are you asking if I had knowledge of the assassination plot?

Sahri shrugged. You spend many nights away, speaking to whom I do not know.

I speak to the poor men of the city, he said, the power and firmness returning to his voice. Those wronged by my father as I have been. We do not talk of overthrow or violence of any kind. We speak of ideas. Of initiatives. Of plans.

Sahri watched him as the fire in his eyes faded once more.

It is true, I do not have much care for my father or the other members of my blood, he said, staring at his hands. But I would not wish them harm.

She nodded, calmed by his words.

I am saddened by this news, he continued. Though not as much as I should be. It is more…relief that I experience.

And I too, she said, feeling the urge to clutch his head to her chest but unable to due to the babe within her.

They remained in silence for a moment, allowing their minds to fathom such a change.

Assassinated, whispered Sahri.

My father’s death would always have been thus, he said with a sad smile. Many have tried to end his life. It is no wonder someone has finally succeeded.

Sahri nodded. What shall you do now?

He sighed. I shall have to go to the palace, first to hear the news from its source and then to discover how these events may affect me. He glanced at her, then touched his hand to her belly. Affect us.

She smiled. Do you think they will ask you to take your father’s place? she said, careful to keep the anticipation from her voice.

I cannot guess what they will ask.

He moved to rise but she stopped him with the firmness of her hand on his shoulder. I shall make you breakfast first, she said. Then you may go.

He slumped back into the chair.

Prontor said you had visions of change, she said, as she moved to the chipped stone bench that took up one corner of their room in order to begin preparing food. Are these ideas, initiatives, and plans you spoke of promises you have made to the poor of Sanctum?

Raltheer got up from his chair and crossed to the other side of the room where a bowl of water sat beneath a mirror speckled with age. Not promises as such, he said, splashing water on his face and then running his wet hands through his hair. More discussions on how we would wish the world to be. Some are mere flights of fancy.

Sahri took two pieces of dough from the dry box where they had been rising overnight. Normally she would knead them and allow them to rise again while she washed and dressed, but this morn they would have to eat flat bread. Indeed? What kind of changes would these be?

He rubbed his head dry with a threadbare towel. The releasing of those imprisoned because they dared to read the Ancient Books of Sebastian or speak of a better way to live in our world. The changing of farming practices so the bellies of the poor are always filled with grain before the berries are planted for the wealthy. Reinstating a day of rest for workers of the factories, even if such days must be alternated among the workers in order for the factories to continue running. On such days of rest, the wealthy shall walk on the streets themselves rather than be carried by sedan chair.

Sahri laughed at this as she rubbed agir oil over the flat bread. Flights of fancy indeed. She lifted the lid from the blackened ceramic cooking pot, checked there was sufficient water carried in its lower half, and then rubbed a little oil over its upper chamber, greasing the small holes where the steam would ascend from the lower chamber, before she placed the flat bread inside.

Not all, he said, slipping his nightgown off and reaching for the patched trousers and oft-mended shirt that hung from a rung on the wall. Many of those I would put into practice if given the opportunity. For example, I would organize the distributing of food, good food, among those currently too poor to feed themselves and their families.

She put two mawgoose eggs in the pot and then replaced the lid. To her left, sunken into the stone bench, was a gentle, flickering flame which had been left burning low through the night to light their room. It was the only extravagance allowed in their home due to Sahri’s pregnancy and frequent need to rise in the night to relieve her aching back her or burdened bladder. The flame burned the black, foul-smelling Oil of the Earth a drip at a time. She now turned the rusted knob set into the edge of the bench, releasing more oil to the hungry flame and allowing it to grow in intensity to cook their breakfast. She moved the pot until it was resting securely above the flame.

Distributing food? she said, turning to give Raltheer her full attention as the flame licked hungrily at the sides. Where would such food come from? Who would pay for it?

The entire system must be changed to redistribute the wealth of Sanctum more evenly, he said, buttoning his shirt. Currently the wealthy only become more wealthy as the poor are ground into the cobbles of the street.

And these are the changes you would bring about if you were made Decision Maker? she said.

Indeed they are, he said, his eyes tired but his stance strong.

Sahri furrowed her brow. If they were to appoint you Decision Maker, do you not think it better to wait before making such firm plans?

Wait? He tucked in his shirt and then knotted the string threaded through his trousers. For what reason?

I can think of many reasons, she said, trying to appear nonchalant as she placed the two chipped plates on the table, followed by the two bent and twisted forks. Perhaps, in the role of Decision Maker, you would be provided with more details on the working of Sanctum – details that would help you form better plans.

You speak of details I have already seen from my boyhood in the palace, he said, sitting on a small stool by the table, leaving the sturdy chair for Sahri. Nothing has changed in the ten years since my father banished me from its doors.

Perhaps not, she conceded with a small shrug. But the changes you suggest are radical and unlikely to be popular among the Great Men. Surely you would do well to consider pleasing them to secure your position before doing anything that would impact their livelihoods.

Pleasing? said Raltheer, raising his voice. "Do you not mean appeasing? I will not grovel to the very men who profit off the backs of their workers day after day."

Indeed not, she said, reaching out to lay her hand on his. I do not mean you to grovel. But prudence may be the better course. Were such an opportunity offered to you to take up the position, you would need to take into consideration the needs and opinions of the wealthy as well as the poor.

Raltheer sighed. The needs and opinions of the wealthy have been considered for long enough.

The lid of the pot now began to clatter as the steam within escaped. She turned to attend to it. Perhaps you are right, my dear, she said, lifting the lid and prodding the flat bread. But for all our sakes I beg you to consider what is best for your family before the rest of the world. She removed the pot from the flame and turned the knob, cutting off the oil and allowing the flame to die. She then took Raltheer’s plate and slipped a flat bread and an egg onto it. This is not a suitable place to bring up a child, she said, handing the plate to him.

He took the plate from her and then scanned the moldy walls, broken furniture, and bare floor. Indeed it is not.

While your visions of change may be noble, she said, sitting down with her own plate, I beg you not to do anything that would endanger our future.

He took her hand in his. I shall heed your words. He then let her hand go and set about peeling the shell from his mawgoose egg. I do not think there is much reason to fear, he said. The role of Decision Maker is passed from father to son. If I am the only living son, then the role cannot be withheld from me and I cannot be removed from the position without another member of my family taking my place.

Unless it were to be taken from you by the same method it has been taken from your father, she said, tearing the bread apart before placing a piece in her mouth.

Raltheer shook his head. The palace guards kept my father safe for decades and they shall do the same for me. Besides, I shall not rule with the ruthlessness and venom of my father.

They ate the rest of their meager meal in silence, Sahri chewing each mouthful deliberately in the hopes it would convince her stomach that their meal was enough to fill her.

With a deep sigh, Raltheer rose from his stool and moved to leave.

When he reached the door he stood still, steeling himself.

What is it? she said, moving to his side.

The people of the street will wish to hear me speak. They care for me now only because of the wealth and position I may attain. He sighed. Perhaps it was always this way, people befriending me for what I might one day regain rather than for myself, and I did not wish to believe it. He turned to her and looked into her eyes. But you, my dearest, you are not that way, are you?

Sahri