Talion Revenant

by Michael A. Stackpole

  I grimaced and thought for a moment. "But with Ring I was unable to answer questions I had, about myself, and about how I wanted to survive in the world. Before I came to Talianna I knew what it was like to feel the fear Ring used to goad people, and I did not like that feeling then. By the same token, I could remember hearing stories about a lone Justice scattering bandits from an isolated homestead, and that type of life I did want."

  Lord Hansur nodded slowly. "So why did you leave Ring?"

  I thought and slowly exhaled. "Ring's belief in his way of doing things is incredibly strong. It makes him very effective, and I'd certainly not like to have him after me, but it also keeps him back away from the world. He would not be incapable of helping someone in a dangerous situation, and when we searched burned ruins for the bodies of children he worked as hard, if not harder, than anyone else. It's just"—I searched for the correct words—"his method never lets him care for anyone.

  "In the half year I spent with Ring I learned how he worked, and I knew I could work that way, if I had to. I also knew working that way would eat me up inside. Perhaps it comes from being raised by a family before I came here, I don't know, but cloaking myself in shadow and terror would kill me. I need people, and I need their respect and friendship instead of their fear and loathing."

  The Master of all Justices' expression lightened and he looked at me. "So, novice, what did you learn during your Journey?"

  I sat back and unscrambled the emotions racing around so I could see what I had learned. "I've learned that people can accept a Justice as someone to be welcomed instead of feared. For some people a Justice is an authority who can intervene and prevent an injustice from taking place. For others a Justice is a guarantee that evil actions will be punished, or their misfortune will be avenged. I agree with those views, and I learned to present another Justice face: that of a friend who was willing to help."

  I closed my eyes and rubbed them for a second. "I remember times, when I was a child, when all of us had to go out in the middle of the night and fight a wildfire or fight to destroy as many locusts as possible before they ate all our crops. I remember hunting for lost animals or children, and I remember my father going out to help hunt down cattle thieves. All those things are part of daily survival for the people living in the lands we patrol, yet Justices can be so far removed from that reality that they can ask a family for food and lodging and hand them a slip of paper in payment. That paper is valueless until the tax collectors come, and paper will not feed the family when food runs low. That's not justice."

  I sighed. "I guess what I learned is that justice, for me, must be tempered with mercy and common sense. Chasing after murders can rob that from a Justice. When I rode into that village in Juchar and Marko set his two henchmen on me, I could have killed them, and him, then gone after his master because of the affront to me. And I cannot say, here and now, that in the future I might not do that, but at the time that was not important. The just thing for me to do, I believed then and believe now, was to solve the village's problem as simply as possible."

  Lord Hansur narrowed his eyes. "You cannot always befriend everyone. There are those who will try to use you for their own ends."

  I smiled and nodded. "I understand that, my lord. I know the only solution to the problem of an insane murderer is his death. I accept that. I also know the image of implacable Justices falling upon criminals deters people from petty crimes. I realize Ring's image of a Justice has its places and uses, and I will not shrink from adopting that image as I need it.

  "To the felons I am sent after I will be remorseless and unstoppable. Those who try to advance themselves at my expense will find they are as vulnerable as anyone else. Ring taught me about coercion and fear, but for me they are only tools, not the sum and total of my being."

  A smile spread across Lord Hansur's face. "You are, Nolan, unique in my experience as a Talion. You are, to my knowledge, the only Justice accepted beyond infancy since the Shattering, and you have surprised many with your hard work and dedication. More than one person believed you would quit soon after you joined us, and whenever you did something worthy of notice you were criticized for it because you had not been here since birth.

  "You may have wondered why I selected Ring to be your guide on your Journey. It was not a decision I arrived at easily...." Lord Hansur looked up toward the doorway and fell silent.

  "He chose Ring because I urged him to."

  I turned my head, then immediately bowed from the waist to the Master. He returned my salute with a slight nod of his head, then seated himself on a stool by the door.

  "You have me to thank for a year with Ring, or"—he smiled—"your half year with him. Ring is merely one of a legion of Talions who believe we, as Talions, know how the world should be run. These Talions were overly critical of your every move." The Master barked out a half laugh. "When your group of Sixteens captured the Fifteens' winter camp and held it I was besieged with demands that you be discharged and that all record of what happened be expunged from the journals and minds of those involved!"

  My jaw dropped. "I do not understand, sir, why?"

  Lord Hansur spoke softly. "They saw you as a threat. You came from outside, and you were better at things than Talions trained here for their whole lives."

  "Worse yet, Nolan," the Master interjected, "your ideas spread easily. Lothar was never respectful enough in the minds of many, and between his arrogance and your unorthodox thinking, Marana, Jevin, and others from your group have broken free from the rigid role 'mold' many have come to cherish and hold sacrosanct."

  Lord Hansur nodded his agreement. "We did not agree with them that you were unsuitable for material for a Justice, and both the Master and I were certain, given a chance, you would prove yourself more than worthy during your Journey. We merely differed in choice of arena for you to prove yourself." Lord Hansur nodded a salute to the Master, and the Master smiled in return.

  "I suggested Ring to Lord Hansur because I knew him to be one of the staunchest supporters of the faction that believes we should reestablish control over the world. I had hoped you might influence him as you did others in your group, but I did not expect it. I did think you would remain with him, and return here as opposed to his faction as they feel threatened by you, but your departure did not surprise me." He frowned. "It did, however, cause some trouble."

  The Master leaned forward. "When Ring reported you had left him, I was told I should send someone after you to kill you, and I had enough volunteers for that job to send a company after you."

  I sat back and gasped for air. "What did they say?"

  The Master smiled. "They suggested you were a coward and should be executed as an example to anyone else who thought he could wander into a Festival and become a Talion. Of course this talk increased when you were brought in by that young man, but between his story and Adamik's discovery of the mark on your hand, well, no coward enters Woodholm and escapes it again."

  Emotions soared through me like clouds boiling wind-whipped through a stormy sky. Fear gripped me that enemies I did not even know lurked in Talianna and hoped for my downfall. Anger at these faceless foes ripped up through the fear. Who were they that they dared demand my life? But the anger was swallowed, in turn, by the pride I had in myself. I worked hard for everything, and if that threatened them, it also marked them as petty and small. That made them no less dangerous, but it made them vulnerable, and I knew I could defeat them in time.

  Both Lord Hansur and the Master stood. Lord Hansur surprised me and offered me his hand. "Welcome, Nolan ra Sinjaria. You have passed your final test. Get your weapons and go to the Shar Chamber. It is time for your Ritual."

  * * *

  The Ritual of the Skull is the single most important test given to any Talion. Each Talion repeats the Ritual whenever he undergoes Shar, but that first time each action, each step, quickens the breathing and tightens the stomach. That first time, with an unblemished and warm right palm, is the most d
ifficult experience a Talion has faced so far in his life.

  Because the sword and dagger I brought to the Ritual had never been used, the Services attendant took them from me before the Ritual. Unblooded, they did not have to be cleansed. After the Ritual I would only refer to them as tsincaat and ryqril, and they would remain unbroken and unmarked as long as I lived.

  I was proud of the weapons I'd chosen to be my tools as a Justice. Gilbere worked with me to make the sword, and he put his heart and soul into it. The blade, long and slender, was broader than a rapier, but still had two edges and was lighter than a broadsword. Gilbere balanced the sword perfectly so I could fence with it easily, yet the sword remained heavy enough to deliver solid chopping blows to heavily armored foes. Gilbere fitted a simple crosspiece to it and created a grip perfectly sized to my hand. I wanted a basket hilt, but Gilbere reminded me that such an addition would make summoning the weapon problematic and I thanked him for his foresight.

  The dagger, on the other hand, was selected for me by someone else. Jevin and I agreed, before we left on our Journeys, to provide each other with daggers. I'd purchased one for Jevin in Ell and had it sent to the nearest Talion outpost for delivery to him without revealing who it was from. It arrived well before I did, and was given to Jevin when he came back from his Journey.

  The dagger he gave me was a masterpiece. Its overall length was seventeen inches with eleven of those inches formed into double-edged blade. The antler hilt was capped with steel. The dagger, though not suitable for throwing, had the right weight for both parrying and stabbing. It matched my sword's style and was very special to me.

  I cautioned the Services attendant to be careful with them; then I slipped into the unadorned, white ritual loincloth and followed him to the Shar Chamber. He reached out and touched the doors. They swung open and smoke engulfed me.

  I stepped into the Shar Chamber for the first time and proceeded to the black slab door. My heart pounded in my ears and I felt sweat condense on my flesh. I stared at the gold skull inlaid in the night-black stone and trembled. Once I said the words, once it slid open, I could never be anything but a Justice.

  I nodded. I accepted that fact. I welcomed it. "I, Nolan ra Sinjaria, come to thee with clear heart and mind. If it be thy will to accept me, I will serve thee for all my life."

  The shadowstone responded to my words. It rose silently into the ceiling as a fog lifts before the sun. I felt as if the veil between life and death was opening. Light blazed from the room beyond the slab, and I knew inside there Nolan ra Sinjaria would die.

  And in his place, I hoped, there would be a Justice.

  I walked forward on stiff legs and knelt carefully before the skull. I could not look directly at it, because the light streaming from it hurt my eyes, but I did notice the hilts of my sword and dagger locked in place behind it. I took a moment to slow my breathing, and as I did so the skull's light subsided.

  I lifted my right fist up and forced it open. Sweat poured from the palm and trickled down my forearm. My fingers trembled despite my efforts to calm them. Terrified, I reached out toward the skull and the light brightened as my hand grew nearer. The glow increased as if the skull hungered for my flesh. The light shone through my skin and I could see my bones. That scared me, but I refused to let fear conquer me. I pressed my palm to the raised death's-head on the skull's brow.

  I heard the hiss and smelled the acrid scent of burning flesh, but I felt no pain. Instead I felt something shoot into me through this fused union of flesh and stone. It blazed up my arm and filled my body with energy. It washed over me and examined every part of me; then it twisted itself into a ball and shot up my spine to explode in my brain.

  Every memory, every thought, every experience I'd ever had flashed through my mind at once. Sights and sounds, odors and textures battered my consciousness as this mental whirlwind spun on and sifted through everything I'd ever known or dreamed or felt. I clutched at images of my family that had faded over the years, but my grasp on them was too weak and they vanished within the maelstrom rioting through my brain.

  Then all motion stopped and I heard myself saying, "Justice, for me, must be tempered with mercy and common sense," over and over again. The words echoed within my skull until they became nothing but an unintelligible buzzing, but I heard them again and realized my lips formed the words and spoke them aloud. The buzz died, but I still repeated the phrase.

  The presence dropped down my neck and through my arm to the skull. My body slumped with exhaustion, but I could not free my right palm. No pain rippled through the flesh, but my hand remained stuck.

  The skull spoke. The glass jaw did not move, but I knew the words came from the skull. "Justice must be tempered by mercy and common sense. Justice is your gift to the world, not your right or privilege. Remember this and live by it. In this you will serve well. If you forget, if you betray this dictum, you betray yourself, and I will kill you for it."

  The skull's light died and my right hand dropped free into my lap. I stared down at it because of the numbness in it. On my palm, in contrast to the pink flesh, a simple black line tattoo of a death's-head stared back up at me.

  I knelt there in shock, and then I smiled. I'd won. I'd succeeded. I was a Justice.

  I summoned my tsincaat and drew my ryqril from the altar behind the skull. The doorway into the corridor slid open and a Justice stepped into the world.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Talion: Coronation

  I still do not understand how the priests knew the Goddess had come and gone, but they knocked at the door within a half hour after her light faded and the skull evaporated. I cracked the door open after I smelled the incense and admitted Hand Fial. He nodded to me and indicated with a wave of his hand that I should leave.

  I did not acknowledge his gesture, but I drifted from the room nonetheless. The Goddess's first warning to me made sense. I never imagined my mission would go unopposed and I'd lived in Death's shadow before now. That part of her message did not frighten me as much as it reinforced the need for caution. That I understood and could deal with adequately.

  The second half of her message, "You cannot defeat the dead," formed a puzzle with myriad solutions. The most obvious, especially when coupled with her first warning, described my death at the nekkeht's hands. But she said she had no prophecy for me, and that broke the connection between those two pieces of her message. What did she intend me to believe?

  Pain throbbed behind my eyes and although I felt tired, I knew I could not sleep. I left the Moon Tower and walked directly to my chambers. There I resheathed my tsincaat, tore a sheet from my bed, and left again for the baths.

  I stripped the robe off and sank myself into the hottest pool. Only one torch burned in the room, and it flickered beside the door so I soaked in shadowed peace. Thick steam billowed up in gray clouds to cut me off from everything but the voices in my head.

  I focused my mind on the problem of stopping the nekkeht from getting to the King. Even if I could not kill it, there had to be a way to prevent it from assassinating King Tirrell. Fire might work because it would burn away the body, and dismembering it might also be effective. Even if the nekkeht could recover from so grievous a set of injuries, healing would deplete its energy and make it easier to hurt again and again.

  A scenario crystalized in my mind. At the masquerade, before midnight, Duke Vidor would take the first step toward fulfilling the Goddess's prophecy and ask for the Princess's hand in marriage. She would accept, and more than likely would do so with her father's blessings. All the guests, the nobles of the Shattered Empire, would hear King Tirrell condone and praise the union. It was the stuff of faery tales and would play well in that august assembly.

  Then, when the city's clocks struck midnight, the Princess, by custom, would order all evil creatures to flee the kingdom. The nobles would all unmask themselves and even cheer the Princess for freeing them from the powers that ensorcelled and changed them into the monstrous forms th
ey'd inhabited all night.

  Only one creature would not change to a docile form. It would leap forward and try to attack the Princess. The nekkeht would sweep aside Duke Vidor or Count Patrick if they sought to oppose it. Only the King would stand between the nekkeht and the Princess. The King would stab the creature, but it would kill him before it ran off howling into the night. It would never be found.

  The King would lie dead in his daughter's arms. Her fiancé would try to console her, and would sustain her through the funeral and her ascension to the throne. They would marry, he would be given control of the army, and his masters would begin to pull his strings.

  Desperation rose in my throat like ebon vomit. I slammed my fist into the water, then imposed control on myself. No! I would not, I could not, let that scenario run its course. If I could not destroy the nekkeht I'd make sure Morai knew enough that Jevin could slay every one of the lords controlling Duke Vidor. Even if I had to die to see it happen, no one would control Queen Zaria's court but her. My blood would insure her chance to fulfill the rest of the Goddess's prophecy.

  My anger and fear evaporated and suddenly I realized I was very, very hot. I stood up and walked over to the nearest pool of cool water. I carefully tested it with a toe, and involuntarily jerked it back out of the frigid liquid. Then I steeled myself for the shock and leaped into the pool.

  I touched bottom and shot myself straight to the surface. "Yeow!" My shout echoed from the walls, and I immediately waited for a reaction, then realized no one was near enough to hear me.

  Or so I thought.

  "That pool is especially cold, my lord."

  I turned. Captain Herman sat huddled in one of the alcoves closest to the door. Fully dressed, he also wore a sword. "I find it quite refreshing," he added. "I've always thought of it as the Tal River in the middle of winter. Wouldn't you agree?"

  I looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. "I am afraid, good captain, I have never visited your Tal province. Besides, I thought outsiders were only allowed in during the Festival, and that is during the spring, is it not?"