Striking Chains

by Kris Schnee

  The man was allowed to stand in place, legs unbound if he wanted to disgrace himself by running. He tried to speak, coughed, and said, "I say, Servants. Get me a snack. One of those honey-cakes from my pantry would be nice."

  Dominic went back into the mansion, warily, and one of the white-faced Bound followed him to show him where to look. He re-emerged and was relieved to find there was no resistance. He stepped close to the Citizen and held the cake up to his mouth.

  The Citizen rammed his head forward to bash Dominic in the face, through his mask. Dominic staggered back and magically whipped three darts out from his robe like a set of claws hovering beside his left hand.

  The Citizen laughed hysterically. "I always wanted to try striking a Servant. Priceless."

  Dominic calmed himself; his dignity didn't matter. He was a Servant, representing his people's justice. He was as obligated to kill this man as the Citizen had been to follow the rules honestly. He raised his hand, aimed carefully, and wavered. It was different this time than when he'd killed the "bandit". This wasn't self-defense. But... but it was defense of the State, and necessary, and right. He shouted in fear and sliced his darts through the air.

  The Citizen dived at him, tackling his legs and knocking Dominic to the ground. The rope slipped free from his wrists and he used it to try throttling Dominic. "Monsters! Cold-hearted thugs! Kill me if you can!" A knee slammed the Servant in the groin.

  Dominic rolled, stunned by the pain, but knocked the man off of him. He grabbed one of his darts by hand and stabbed, adding magic to its speed and force. It jabbed the Citizen in the chest. Two wet thuds sounded as another pair of darts pierced him in the back. Dominic staggered to one side.

  Ben had launched some of his own darts and had made the rest of his set hover at attention. "Shall I?" The wooden weapons trembled but were ready.

  Dominic shook his head, commanded two of his dropped darts to rise, and struck for the heart. The Citizen gasped once, reached out strongly enough to make all the hovering darts waver, then dropped dead in the grass.

  Dominic wheezed, standing doubled over and trying to recover. Little fountains of blood coiled around the Citizen's wounds for a moment.

  Ben patted him on the back, then retrieved all the darts. "Well. It's done. Let... let us pray."

  Ben said another prayer, ending with, "In the name of the Holy State." He paused. "Because the execution order against the accused Bound was given by a man whose authority has ended, the remaining Citizens are ordered to release him." He nodded toward the old man, whose face was ashen.

  Dominic hadn't thought that far ahead, but Ben's judgment was right again on several levels. Executing the Bound wouldn't improve the life of the State at this point. "Shall we help you release him?"

  At the shed, they untied the accused killer. "You're released," Ben explained.

  "Ha! Shall I go right back to tilling the fields for my masters, then?"

  Ben tilted his head in puzzlement. "Of course. You may rest first, if your replacement owner agrees." He looked again toward the old man, whose hands were shaking.

  Dominic said, "Whatever you did is no longer punishable. So will you tell us whether you killed her?"

  "I really didn't. Huygen and I both had eyes for her. If it wasn't him, then I don't know what happened. Maybe she just got fed up with both of us and ran off."

  "Ran off! To where?"

  The Bound shrugged, then winced at his sore, long-confined muscles. "Thank you for releasing me. Will Huygen live?"

  "He's not accused of anything. We'll reassign him."

  "Hmmph. Well, find him a good master."

  * * *

  Ben and Dominic retreated to the village stable, where their horses had been tended to. Ben looked around to make sure the Bound weren't spying, then spoke quietly. "Are you all right?"

  Dominic leaned over a wooden railing, and made himself loosen his white-knuckled grip on the boards. "I... I don't feel anything, I think. Just empty. It was right, what we did, and we tried to make it quick. I'm glad he fought back, in a way, but I'd have had to kill him even if he just stood there."

  Ben patted Dominic's hand, though he looked shaken too. "At least you didn't vomit."

  "Don't tempt me." Dominic laughed weakly and shuddered. "Well. Experience, huh?"

  "Yeah. So now we have a choice. Do we assign Huygen to the first village we passed, or press on to the third as we planned?"

  "I liked that first one. But... maybe we could ask him which he prefers. In private, like."

  Ben said, "Sure. We'll take him out of town a bit before asking, to save face. About that logbook, how did you know it was faked? I mean, besides how suspicious the man was acting."

  "Oh, that?" Dominic rattled off a few details about the Weave design on the paper and ink. "It's a shame to lose him, really. Regular Scribe's Aid isn't that good; his version could have made it cheaper to copy books at a good quality. But the fool had to go and ruin his life instead of making himself useful to the people."

  Ben helped Dominic stand upright again. "Let's go."

  They asked if anyone else had problems that needed a Servant's attention, but somehow nobody did.

  * * *

  Huygen couldn't be pried out of the mansion bedroom without force, and the Servants heard weeping in there. They gave the Citizen's son and wife a little time while conducting some routine inspection tasks. There was no sense in stalling longer than that, though. They knocked, and the boy came out wearing simple Bound clothing. His stony expression was nearly as good as a mask.

  "Come along," Ben said. They led him outside past staring members of his new caste, then out of town. Finally Ben asked whether to take him farther east or back west.

  "I get to choose?"

  "That much, yes."

  "East, then. There's a little port there, and there should be a ship coming there soon. I'd like to see it." As he walked along beside the riding Servants he talked about ships and the sea. "I always thought I'd get to live at sea."

  Dominic said, "I've tried to avoid it."

  "Ha. You don't have generations of Citizen blood, do you? My family is made for the sea. At least, that's what I thought. Servants, why can't you let me join the navy anyway?"

  "Those are the rules," said Dominic. "Every man and woman must be able to patch the hull or repel the barbarians at a moment's notice." The role of women in the State's military had never been a comfortable one, but there were few enough spellcasters that their presence was necessary.

  They camped along the coast. The new Bound was soon fast asleep. Ben warily removed his mask for long enough to wash his face and eat in comfort. "We could have more ships in service if we allowed Bound crewmen. Really, does every man need to crowd in on a bit of damaged hull? I mean, that's the doctrine, but does it make sense?"

  "We have as many ships as we need, I suppose."

  * * *

  In the third village, they dropped off young Huygen and formally assigned him to one of the local Citizens. Huygen would be that man's property to look after and care for, probably for the rest of his life. Maybe he'd get to work at the docks and have at least a taste of the naval life. Dominic hoped so.

  The Servants ran a little festival there. While the people were relaxing and eating, one of the Bound came up to Dominic: a shy girl with dirt on her face. "I saw magic!" she said. She glared at him as though daring him to deny it.

  Dominic smiled, though she couldn't see. He took out his test paper and said, "Can you see what's drawn here?"

  She squinted and leaned close. "There's a bunch of... blocky circles?"

  "Blocky?"

  "With, um, five or six edges. There's one here, here... and maybe here too?"

  She'd pointed out the clearest three shapes. "Not bad," said Dominic. He called Ben over and had her repeat the performance. "What's your name?"

  "Irene, sir. Can I be a Servant?"

  "I don't know. That or a Citizen. We'll need to take you back to the capi
tal for further testing and training."

  She hopped and giggled, then covered her mouth. "Thank you! Thank you!"

  Well, this was a happier visit.

  As the new Bound had predicted, a ship came the next day, headed for the capital. Dominic formally bought Irene from her master, dipping into Ben's money supply to do so. With their planned trip concluded, the Servants boarded the ship and headed back to Temple Island.

  In their tiny, smelly cabin, Ben said, "I hope she qualifies for the mask. She certainly wants to earn it. On deck she was talking about wanting to see all of the cities and invent spells."

  Dominic thought back to when Jasper recruited him. At the time, of course, Dominic had had no idea what the procedure was. Jasper had judged him to be qualified for Servant training based more on his actions in Seaflower than on his magic sensitivity. The rules, though, called for him to drop the newcomer off at a training facility to judge their skills. Jasper's attitude had been more cavalier, but apparently it was allowed. Ben had been judged somehow, too, while in quarantine.

  Dominic said, "We'll have to let the more experienced folk judge her. I don't know enough."

  6. An Unforgivable Act

  It was pleasant to be back in the Nether, safely underground amid books and able to walk around unmasked. Dominic spent much of his time in the library, studying spellcraft and laws. He and Ben had split a little bonus for finding a magically talented villager, but the trip had barely even paid for itself.

  For the sake of his budget, Dominic continued helping others with the basics of magic while doing dull bureaucratic tasks. Quartermaster Barger gave him some slightly tougher paperwork and, after looking over Dominic's performance, smiled. "Now that you've actually been out there you have some idea of what the numbers mean, eh?"

  "That wasn't what improved my arithmetic."

  "True. You've got a good head on your shoulders, though. And that fish you caught will be joining us for dinner tonight."

  "Ah, good! Glad she qualified."

  That night Irene came downstairs to the Nether, and Dominic got to see her bewildered expression as she confronted a dining hall full of pitiless masked faces. She paused, wavered, then squirmed into place at a bench and smirked at the nearest people. "I belong here. Now where's my mask?"

  The experienced Servants dropped their silent act and laughed.

  * * *

  One day, after months more of work and training, Ben complained. "The money's an obstacle to doing anything really meaningful."

  Dominic was working through some tax figures. He nodded, finished his calculation, and looked up again. "Sorry to say, but we should split up if we do another mission so close to home. If not for finding our new recruit, that job would've been a loss."

  "I know. I still want to go farther afield. How about if we each take another trip and earn more, then come back for the real work?"

  "You still have your heart set on a medical mission? It's a gamble. We don't know that the Boundless One has any plans for war anytime soon."

  Ben was sullen. "We could ask."

  * * *

  Ben took a day to visit the High Temple. He came back to the dormitory troubled, unable to focus on his medical studies. In an angry tone he began, "The One..." He paused in his pacing and spoke more carefully. "My questions went unanswered. I'm not allowed to know when there'll be a war to help with, or where."

  "Did you really expect Him to tell you?"

  "I thought I'd be able to at least ask. The lady secretary there explained that it's not our place to ask such things at all. Which I suppose makes sense, but how am I supposed to be a hero?"

  Dominic told him, "I thought the point was to heal people and keep the barbarians out. The State is doing that with your help already. The hospital --"

  "I know, I'm helping. But is this life what you signed up for -- living to do your assigned tasks of keeping the State running like a machine?"

  "I didn't really 'sign up for' anything at all, except to develop my powers. I like playing with magic. As a Servant I've learned that the job comes with duties."

  Ben shut his eyes and sat. "When I got recruited, it was because I'd revealed my talent while trying to deal with the plague and learn how to heal people. In hindsight you can't just push sickness out of someone, like I imagined. But I could've done something with a little knowledge, mostly the non-magical kind. I guess if we're not under attack by plague-ridden westerners, I can do the most good by going to that area and teaching the Bound there how to heal."

  "Why that area specifically? The whole State needs what you're teaching."

  "It's where I'm from. You don't care about your home village and the ones around it?"

  Dominic shrugged. "I had a good master. But you've heard my story about the uprising. I can't say every village in my area was a good one."

  Ben paced, thinking. "Then I need a way to bring about some real change. To make life permanently better there, not just to visit villages and kill the occasional troublemaker."

  * * *

  Ben's planning kept drifting back to the idea of somehow stoking a raid against the Mithraist foreigners to the west. Or establishing a hospital near the border, or even starting a new city by building up a coastal village. Or all those at once.

  He was preaching his ideas in the Nether one evening over dinner, when the young Servant Irene slapped her mug down on the table and called him out. "This is none of your business. Who are you to have all these plans? You're not paid to build things or move the whole State to favor whatever worthless town you come from."

  Ben glared at her. "Worthless? Do you think your own hometown is any more important?"

  "I don't. That's the point. Nobody matters. We serve the State itself, and the people benefit from that. You're talking your head off about doing big, important things, but it's the job of the One to make decisions like that, not you."

  Ben said, "I'm not one of those animated clay statues from barbarian lands. I got picked for this job because I have a brain and I can come up with a good idea now and then. There's nothing wrong with me gathering some money and seeing if I can do something useful for the State."

  Irene turned to some of the nearby Servants. "Do you see this man pretending he's in charge? I can't believe it."

  "Somebody has to take some initiative!"

  "Yes. And that someone is the One, not you."

  Ben finished his drink and snatched the remaining bread on his plate. "You'll see." He stomped away.

  Dominic let him go; it was the second time there'd been some kind of public argument over his plans.

  * * *

  Ben met Dominic at a cheap tavern they liked, where they could watch the sea. They wore masks, but Ben's enthusiasm shined through. "I can make this work! We'll need horses again, more camping gear, some Bound to carry things. Medical supplies of course, and written guides. How are your funds?"

  Dominic named a number for his current ledger balance with the Quartermaster. "That's the amount you wanted from me, right?"

  "Right. And how about your studies?"

  "I've been reading more magic, more geography, even a little about war tactics in case we get dragged into something."

  "All right, all right; you don't like the war part. We can't count on there being a war anyway. But I've found a region near my old home that we can inspect. Region Five."

  Dominic thought of maps. "Near Saint Wylan? Bit of a hike." Saint Wylan was enemy-held. The Holy State ruled everything east of there, but those villages were occasionally subject to raiding.

  "Right; the distance means better pay. And we can train people while we're there."

  "I'm interested, but this whole medical training idea... Have you gotten it approved somehow?"

  "I'm just going to do it. I can have the mission sort of combined with a trade caravan and legally treat it as a sale of medical supplies."

  That sounded disorganized; trade wasn't a Servant's job at all.

  Ben no
ticed Dominic's hesitation. "Really, I'm all right with not fighting. Someday we're going to take Saint Wylan back from the foreigners, and to do that we need a population that's healthy and happy. We all benefit."

  Dominic had lost track of how many revisions and rationales there were to Ben's plan. "And we're teaching each village's Citizens, right?"

  Ben blew a sigh through his mask. "Yes. I wish we could bend the rules and just teach everyone. The best I can do is register the Bound we buy as temporarily ours to teach, then disperse them after the mission so that they have no long-term loyalty to us." He spoke quietly. "If we explain some basic medical ideas to the peasants as we go, we won't be hurting anyone."

  Dominic repeated the standard doctrine: "Most people can't handle being taught. They'd learn just a little, then get the idea they know how to run a village themselves." He thought back to Jasper making sure someone of the Citizen class could step in to replace the rebel Citizens.

  "But the Citizens don't always know what's best for their Bound."

  Dominic said, "And that's when we come in."

  "And murder them?"

  "It wasn't murder!" Dominic said, louder than necessary. "There was a crime."

  "Funny how killing a crooked Citizen was a higher priority than making sure the murder of a Bound got solved."

  Dominic's hands clenched. He reminded himself that Ben, too, had executed a Citizen once. "The violence we do is justified by our doing it for the right reasons. It wouldn't be right to have Citizens and Servants at all, if we didn't work hard to keep each other honest. The life of a single Bound isn't as important as the whole system's integrity."

  Dominic thought back to the day that Jasper recruited him. The Servant had plucked him out from the crowd. But why: because he was a useful tool for the State, or out of personal respect? Probably the first one, which was a thought that hurt Dominic. The Citizen who'd owned him had actually liked him a little, maybe.

  Ben said, "Are you in, or out?"

  "I'm in. We can help... people." Dominic's imagination wavered between seeing a bunch of individual peasants, and one dirt-colored mass that moved back and forth as part of the State's machinery.