by William King
“He is the local Bossman then, is he?”
“If by that picturesque expression you mean he is the town’s chief dealer in stolen goods, illicit information and illegal services then you are correct. It did not take you long to find him. I must say I am impressed.”
“Why do you want to see him?”
“I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. It’s time you answered some of mine.” He answered her smile. She leaned closer. Their faces were almost touching. Her eyes were very large. The pupils very dark and dilated. He felt like he might fall into them and be lost.
“Ask away.”
“Are you Lady Asea’s lover- everybody seems to think you are?”
He nodded. There did not seem to be any point in denying it. It was a cover that needed to be kept.
“How did that happen?” He decided then to be as honest as possible. It was always best to keep as close to the truth as you could when telling a lie.
“I saved her life in Deep Achenar. She took an interest in me after that.”
“You were in Deep Achenar with Asea? You are the one who fought the Spawn of the Spider God?” He nodded again. It seemed word of the Foragers’ mission had not been as well hushed up as he thought.
“What were they like? Describethem to me.”
He told her of the bizarre half-spider, half-demon things he had battled with, and the ritual he had witnessed. She was a very good listener. She nodded agreement every now and again, and her eyes never left his face.
“Extraordinary,” she said eventually. “And that is how your Lieutenant Sardec lost his hand.”
Rik could not deny the Lieutenant’s bravery no matter how much he disliked the Terrarch personally.
“I believe you are very lucky to be alive,” she said. She looked a little awestruck. Rik wondered how much of it was play-acting but he was flattered nonetheless. Her hand still rested on his thigh, massaging it gently.
“You’ll get no arguments from me. Now why are you here?”
“I am collecting information,” she said.
“Don’t you have servants for that?”
“I like to collect it myself, that way I can judge the source first hand.”
“That’s a very dangerous hobby.”
“I find it adds spice to an otherwise dull life.”
She did not give the impression of being one of those bored Terrarch noblewomen who sought relief from their ennui in danger; quite the opposite. She reminded Rik of some very successful thieves he had known, who took pleasure in their accomplishments and found the crime as thrilling as the reward.
“How dull can it be, being rich and powerful and beautiful?”
“You would be surprised,” she said. “A palace can feel like a prison sometimes.”
“I’ve been in prison so I doubt that.”
“You seem to have led a very eventful life.”
“Too eventful.”
“Tell me- I am interested. Why were you imprisoned?”
“I was caught in possession of stolen goods. I was drunk at the time. My friend Leon had left them with me to pick up later and the watch came. I was too drunk to run away so they caught me. I had not even stolen the goods but I was going to hang for the theft anyway.”
“How did you get away?”
“Leon bribed the guards. They let me out.”
“No daring escapes, no night flights across the tiled rooftops at midnight? That’s very disappointing.”
“That is the way things go in Sorrow. If you can afford the bribes, you can get off free. If you can’t, it’s the long drop. So why did you come here?”
“The same reason as I am sure you did. I want what Black Tomar has; information, among other things.” Rik did not rise to the bait.
“You are spying?”
“If you want to put it that way. I am sure you are doing the same for the Arch-traitress.”
“Lady Asea would not be thrilled to hear herself described as that.”
“Nonetheless, that is what she is.” Tamara sounded suddenly very serious. “She and Azaar tore the Terrarchy apart to satisfy their personal ambitions. They plunged the Empire into civil war because they could not stand to see Arachne on the throne. They wanted somebody more malleable and Queen Arielle proved to be that, at least in the beginning.”
“That is not the history I was taught.”
“Naturally- considering which side of the border you were born on.” Rik paused to mull over her words. She was a Purple. But that did not prevent her from believing she was right or even being so. He wanted to hear her side of the story.
“Go on,” he said. “I am listening.”
“Arachne was the eldest of the heirs. She was first in line to the throne legally. In the normal course of things there is no disputing that she would become Queen-Empress.”
“In the normal course of things, but she assassinated her own mother.”
“I assure you she did not.”
“You have proof of that? Why has it not been brought forward?”
“Of course, I don’t have proof but I do know the Queen-Empress and I know she is utterly serious about finding the murderer of her mother.”
“It would certainly be in her interest to claim that.”
“I know her, Rik. She has been a friend to my family for a very long time. She is sincere. She believes your patron to have been responsible.”
Rik found himself staring at her. “That is just a black lie put about to discredit Asea.”
“Is it? Who was in charge of palace security when the Old Queen was murdered? Lord Azaar. Who was the sorcerer responsible for overseeing the palace’s defensive wards? Lady Asea. Was there ever any trace of a murderer found? Did any of the other palace wizards detect any disturbance of their wards? The palace was sealed that night. No one went in or out. The only people who could have committed the crime were inside that wing of the palace. Arachne was not. Azaar and Asea were, so was your Queen for that matter. That is why my father had her placed under house arrest until he could get to the bottom of the matter. Azaar and his half-sister released her from her chambers and fled before the matter could come to trial. I ask you, whose interests seem best served by that chain of events? Who had the motive and the opportunity to commit the assassination?”
“Motive?”
“Arielle wanted to be Empress. She knew that her sister would become so in the natural course of things. Asea and Azaar could see their power slipping. The Old Queen was turning against them, and their Scarlet doctrines.”
Rik was in no position to judge the truth of her claims. This was the first time he had ever heard events framed exactly this way, although hundreds of theories circulated among the citizens of Sorrow about the assassination that had sparked the bloodiest civil war in history. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I like you, and I want you to know in whose shadow you are standing. Lady Asea is a heroine in your country. Lord Azaar is a famous General, but they are both traitors to their own people, and they are both murderers. They will be brought to justice. In part that is what this war is about.”
“Wars are fought for land, for gold, for power. They are not fought for justice. Believe me, I have fought in enough of them…”
“I am not saying that those motives don’t arise on either side. I am saying that there are other motives mixed in with them. The Queen-Empress will see the traitors brought to justice. She would reward those who would aid her in this.”
Rik fought down the urge to laugh. Earlier Asea had suggested to him that he would have to kill this woman. Now the intended victim seemed to be suggesting that he help her to kill Asea. Obviously this was the reason for their sudden intimacy.
“How much would she be willing to pay?” he asked.
“A very great deal. I can imagine that there would be titles and honours and riches for the man who brought her the killer of her mother.”
“I did not think the Dark Empir
e believed in rewarding humans.”
“Sardea rewards those who serve her. And you are only half-human. There are procedures that could see such a one as you formally adopted into a clan. There would be palaces, gold, lands.”
“We are talking hypothetically, of course.”
“The Empress’s generosity would be very real.”
“I think I understand why you wanted to talk to me.” She looked as if she were about to slap him, but then she smiled.
“You could do very well for yourself, Rik. Anyone who helps us in this could.”
“As would you, I take it.”
“I make no secret that I would gain a great deal of prestige, and so would my father. It would help him at court. There are factions vying for the Empress’s attention. He has his rivals.”
Rik found that he was smiling. The situation had more possibilities in it than he had first imagined. He felt old ambitions stir, the urge to be someone, to put his bastard heritage behind him, to find a place in the world. It appeared he was being offered more than one route into his future although this one involved treachery to one who had helped him.
“You have given me a great deal to think about,” he said.
“Think about it very carefully. We will talk on this, and other matters again.”
He could have laughed aloud, so closely did her words and manner ape echo that of Lady Asea. She rose and made her way from the room, never taking her eyes from him.
What was he going to tell Lady Asea about this, Rik wondered. Part of him thought it might be better to tell her nothing.
Jaderac looked around his chambers in disgust. They were so primitive it made him want to be sick. He loathed being so far from civilisation. He loathed being so far from the Queen-Empress when he had so many rivals for her favour. But duty was duty, he told himself, and if he was successful here he was sure to find himself back in Arachne’s good graces despite all of Lord Chancellor Xephan’s efforts to discredit him with her.
Damned Xephan had hated Jaderac ever since the Brotherhood had split and he had taken Malkior’s side in the power struggle instead of Xephan’s. What else could he have done? He and Xephan were of the same generation and only one of them could take Malkior’s place as head of the Brotherhood when the old Terrarch’s time came. If the rumours he had heard were true, Xephan had already succeeded in assuming control of the great conspiracy as well as replacing Malkior in Arachne’s affections. The thought made Jaderac deeply uneasy.
He did not want to stay here and he could not sleep so he took himself down to the laboratories he had built in the basement. His nose wrinkled at the stench of rotting flesh and pungent alchemicals coming from the equipment. The whimpering of the humans strapped to the tables disturbed him a little even now.
He watched the blood drain from the tubes in their arms. Red pulses drained in time to the beat of the great sorcerous engine. All of it flowed towards the huge sarcophagus in the centre of the room, feeding his creation, giving it the life it needed. The Black Elder Signs inscribed on its side glowed with unholy power. The making of that great coffin and the thing within it had cost Jaderac a great deal, but he was certain that sometime soon it would prove worth it. The most potent sorcerous assassin ever created would be his to command in a few days. All he had to do was find a way to aim it at the correct target. A few days ago he had been certain that target was going to be Lord Ilmarec, but now another even better target had presented itself, one he had never dreamed would become available so quickly: the Lady Asea.
Some of the humans had soiled themselves. One youth was dead, drained of all he could give. Jaderac pulled out the needle tipped tubing from his heart and arms and rolled him onto the floor. Hopefully the body-snatchers would bring a new one tonight. According to the grimoires, he had already fed the Nerghul enough blood, but in Jaderac’s long experience it was better to be safe than sorry.
It came to him suddenly that someone was watching him. The hairs on the back of his head rose. He turned to look at a young Terrarch woman disguised as a man. How long had she been there, Jaderac wondered.
“Oh, do sit down,” said Tamara. “You’re pacing like a caged leopard. I find it quite enervating just looking at you.”
Jaderac gave her one of his coolest smiles. He studied her, puzzled as always by her manners. Her enigmatic father was his closest ally at court and she shared Malkior's intelligence and his breeding, but there were some distinctly unusual things about her. He found them all disturbing.
There was her habit of slipping away at odd times of night, and the way she gave even the best of his watchdogs the slip. He worried about her. If anything should happen to her while she was here, it might cause a rift with her father, and that was the last thing he could afford at the moment. He needed Malkior’s aid against the Lord Chancellor and his clique within the Brotherhood. Xephan had proven himself a mighty sorcerer and a master of intrigue. Jaderac needed powerful allies against such a dangerous foe and Malkior was the most formidable of all those available. He was determined to win back his old position at the Queen-Empress’s court and maintain control of the Brotherhood. Malkior would prove very useful to Jaderac as he schemed to do so, so long as no harm befell his darling daughter.
There was going to be war, and war meant spoils. The Empire was going to expand. New territories would be annexed, whole cities plundered. Jaderac had no use for land and wealth for their own sake, but they were important markers of status, tokens of success in the game that all Terrarchs played.
“Where were you the tonight?” he asked.
“I was talking to the young man your agents told you about.”
Jaderac controlled his anger. “You went out on your own again?”
“It’s so damnably boring being cooped up in this mansion.”
“So you decided to head for the lowest part of town?”
“Why Lord Jaderac, I do believe you have been spying on me.”
“I am merely concerned for your safety. I do wish you would not set out on these nocturnal adventures. Surely you can find something to amuse you within these walls.”
“Are you offering your own services, my Lord?”
“We are alone,” he said. “There is no need to keep up the pretence of being the lovesick convent girl. I know quite well in which direction your tastes run.”
Tamara looked amused. “Do you, my Lord? It hurts to think I am so transparent.”
She was about as far from transparent as it was possible to get, quite the most baffling female he had ever encountered. He had considered using his sorcery to keep track of her but that would be an unconscionable distraction at this point, particularly with Lady Asea in the vicinity. He realised that somehow she had managed to change the subject on him again.
“If he is her lover he could have killed you. Her lovers have been assassins before.”
“I think I managed to take his mind off killing me at least for tonight.” No need to ask how she had done that.
“What did you find out?” he asked, to change the subject.
“I am certain he is Lady Asea’s lover.”
“We already knew that. He spends part of each evening in her tent or her chambers. At least she is discrete enough to kick him out before morning.”
“I also have something you might want.” She held out her narrow hand. A single silvery hair lay in it.
“Perhaps I am a little obtuse, but why exactly should I want that.”
“We have not been able to get anything connected with Lady Asea: no hair, no blood, no nail clippings, not even any item of old apparel.”
“Of course we have not. She is too skilled a sorceress ever to let those fall into enemy hands.”
“But we have got something connected with him.”
Jaderac allowed himself a small smile. He was starting to see where this was going. “Go on.”
“Our agent in the house can signal when he visits her. We simply send the monster you are creating to kill
him and instruct it to kill anyone that’s with him.”
Jaderac turned the idea over and over in his mind. Providing they unleashed his creation at the correct hour it would work. Asea would be with her lover and her mind would surely not be focused on defence at that hour and under those circumstances. His pet would need only seconds to accomplish both their deaths.
“Give me that,” he said, taking the hair and putting it gingerly into a glass preservative jar. He spoke the words of sealing as soon as the stopper was in place. In its way this was a precious thing, a spoor to pass before the great hunting beast he would soon unleash. “I believe you have got it. The Queen-Empress will reward us both mightily for encompassing Asea’s death.”
Tamara’s smile answered his, and then for a second she frowned. “A pity about that young man,” she said. “I rather liked him. He was quite ruthless and amoral but I liked him.”
You liked him because he reminded you of yourself, Jaderac thought, but kept the thought to himself. He was excited by the plan she had outlined. In only a few more days, the greatest enemy of the Empress would be dead, and he would feted for it. And Tamara, of course, for the small part she had played in it.
“If you will excuse me, I have work to do,” he said, moving closer to the great sarcophagus and starting to croon slow, deadly spells in the old tongue of the Terrarchs.
Chapter Fourteen
Sardec woke from another dream of the dark spaces where the Spider God lurked. He reached for his face with his hand, and was once again surprised when the cold metal of his hook touched his cheek. The dreams were getting stranger. He had seen visions of Serpent Men and Ultari doing battle under a green tinged sky. The great tower flashed beams of devastating emerald light while huge insect winged spawn of Uran Ultar swirled around it. He had watched nightmarish combat in a time before any Terrarch had walked this land, fought with all the ferocity of the Elder Ages.
He wondered if he should talk to Asea about the dreams. Perhaps some mystical connection had been established between him and the Spider God in Deep Achenar. Or perhaps he was sensitive to the oppressive presence of that massive Serpent Man artefact out there. Or it might just be his own imagination. The battle in that lost city deep below the surface of Gaeia had been enough to give anyone nightmares.