Mobius

by Garon Whited

  Electrical burns take time to heal. The worst of the burns were to the skin, but even minor burns to internal organs can be lethal. After a couple of hours, I was pretty sure all three of us would survive without magical life support, but it would be a while before the humans were in any sort of decent shape. They wore steel armor, too, so their scars wouldn’t even be visible. The lightning burned the steel and leather, and the skin beneath. I reinforced and focused some fresh healing magic on them when I cranked up my own.

  Tessera brought me breakfast and lunch, escorted by two grim-faced warriors. I don’t think they liked the fact Leisel was missing. I knew I was plenty pissed off about it, but I’m an angry person. I mentioned this to Tessera while she watched me eat.

  “Sir, I think you’ve misunderstood.”

  “I’m good at that.”

  “We’ve been besieged for a while and done nothing. Before that, Sarcana sent a hired wizard in to rescue their kidnapping squad—and there’s the kidnapping squad, too. Now you’re hurt, Leisel’s missing, and we don’t have any orders. How long are we going to take it?”

  “They’re warriors,” I mused.

  “And we’re here to fight.”

  “I’ve had conversations like this before. I don’t seem to be breaking the habit.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I thought for over a minute, thinking about pros and cons, possible ramifications, and all the worst-case scenarios. Are the worst cases worth risking for the possibility of the best cases?

  “Tessera,” I sighed, finally, “can I trust you?”

  “Leisel isn’t here, sir, but I’ll do anything your vidat would.”

  I nodded to the two additional guards.

  “Ladies, would you leave us for a bit?” They did the curling-hand salute-thing and shut the door behind themselves. I turned to Tessera. “This isn’t about my vidat. This is about me.”

  “I owe you my life,” she stated, simply. “I’m yours.”

  “I hope you won’t regret that.”

  “I don’t. What’s on your mind, sir?”

  “There’s a reason I’ve been so reluctant to beat the brains in of House Sarcana. What do you think it is?”

  “I couldn’t guess.”

  “Do you think we can do it?”

  “I think we could make them negotiate,” she admitted. “I don’t think we can take them, but we could stick close to home and make them reach for us. I know it would cost them a lot. They might not think it’s worth it.”

  “Tessera, I know I can crush them. I already destroyed more than twenty of their businesses, stole thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of coins from them, and, since there’s some sort of significance to Renata’s baby, I made sure she’s about to have it here, rather than in Naskarl’s clutches. If I feel like it, I’ll kill every single person in the Sarcana estate in Sarashda. Personally. If I decide to take the House on, the authorities in Sarashda will be upset about the blood pouring down their streets.”

  “Good! Can I tell anyone about what you’ve already done?”

  “Tell? I suppose, yes, if you think it’ll help.”

  “I thought we were just sitting here, doing nothing. Now that I know this, well, it’s made me feel a lot better!”

  “There’s a good thing. The bad thing is my temper. I’ve been trying to avoid expressing it. I don’t want to get into a fight with Sarcana. A fight will not be a fight for long because I don’t fight. I murder. I’ll kill everything in sight and go looking for the ones who are hiding. There will be no surrendering, because surrendering won’t change how fast they die, only in what order. I’ll chase down the fleeing and cut down the kneeling. There will be nothing of the House left alive that can speak their name.”

  Tessera was silent for several moments, contemplating some inner vision.

  “I see,” she said at last, softly. “I think I see.”

  “This is why I’ve been trying to handle this in socially-acceptable ways. If it comes to battle, I’ll murder everyone. And I do mean ‘murder.’ You’ve seen me fight. Imagine me, mouth-foaming angry and out for blood.”

  “I’d rather not,” she said, but I don’t think it was quite true. The idea seemed to excite her.

  “Me, either,” I replied, without adding anything.

  “I do have a solution,” she suggested, “if you want to hear it.”

  “You do?” I asked, startled.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You have hundreds of warriors just itching to fight for you. We’ve trained and drilled and trained some more, all because you said to. It’s like we’re getting ready, and—respectfully, sir—we are ready. We may not be the best of the best, but we’re all veterans of some combat or other, and we’ll fight anyone or anything you want. When we heard about the vendetta, we were confused when we didn’t go out to fight, but now I know why and so will everyone else. If you let us, we’ll go kick the Sarcana roadblock into splintered wood and split skulls. I swear on my shield you won’t have to touch it. Please? Sir?”

  She looked like a teenager asking permission to go out on a date. I keep forgetting these people are professionals. Fighting is what they do. Not practicing, not training, not drilling, but getting out there and hacking people into bloody chunks. They’re not Knights of Shadow—I’m not sure the Knights of the Round Table would enjoy a fight against those lunatics—but they are highly-proficient killers. It’s true, the Temple has condemned them to a lifetime career, regardless of what they might have chosen, but here we are, as they say, and they’re warriors. They’re proud of being warriors. And they want to fight.

  “All right,” I agreed. “All right. We’ll sally out and destroy the Sarcana roadblock, capture anyone we can, and then I’ll talk terms with Naskarl. He already knows I mean business, but with the loss of his only force in the field, he’ll be doubly demoralized.”

  “Yes!”

  “Please let Velina know I would like to speak with her.”

  “I’ll head out there right away!”

  I finished my lunch in peace. Strangely enough, I felt better.

  I’m not sure what Tessera told Velina, but they got my intent right even if they didn’t quite follow what I would have called proper procedure.

  Late in the afternoon, I was in pretty good shape aside from a mild, pulsing pain in my face. Most of my healing spell went into making sure I wasn’t suffering from some hidden internal damage. I went down to see Renata. She was staying in the tower, now that the tower had grown enough outward to have more rooms.

  Whoa. When I made the long climb up the stairs to my workroom, it really was farther than I remembered. The tower—the whole keep—is still growing to match the blueprint I gave it. I ought to pay more attention to how far along it is.

  Anyway, Renata was resting in her room along with two guards. Everybody was armed and ready for trouble. The guards were actually in the room with her, rather than standing outside. I approved.

  “How’s the future mother doing?”

  “I have questions,” Renata replied, hands on her belly. I didn’t mention I had questions about her pregnancy, too. Most people have more mundane questions, such as who the father is and so on. I wondered, too, but I also wished I knew more about incorporeal lights and how they interact with the unborn.

  “Shoot.”

  “It’s only the twenty-eighth of Milaskir. How is this possible?”

  “The answer is complicated and involves magic.”

  “Magic. All right. I still do not understand what has happened—how it has happened—nor why.”

  “Because Naskarl, for some reason, wants you in his house when you push the baby out. He thinks he’s got months to slowly work out a way to kill me, take you, and get what he wants—whatever that is. The baby, presumably. He hasn’t been forthcoming about his motives. In a few days or weeks, you’ll have your child and ruin his plans. He may still be upset with us, but with his plans
in a shambles, he may decide to cut his losses.”

  Renata nodded, slowly, still rubbing her belly through the tunic. She couldn’t wear armor, obviously. I suppose she could, technically, but who makes armor tailored for a pregnant woman?

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and I have to beg for your forgiveness, Mazhani.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have not told you everything.”

  I can’t grind my teeth, but I’ve become a master at clenching them. My temper was not at its best. I’d been electrocuted earlier. Plus, if she was about to disclose something fundamental—now!—after all this time in the valley, I was not only going to be upset but I’d have a right to be. This is not a good way to keep the violent, bloodthirsty monster with anger management issues in a non-murderous frame of mind.

  I twirled my hand through the reverse-yes—back of the hand facing out, two fingers up, then a down-and-out flick of the wrist—indicating she should stop. I settled to the floor, breathed deeply for a bit, and tried for a tiny bit of detachment. I tried hard, because I wanted to backhand her face until she fell to the ground.

  Intellectually, I despise such behavior. Emotionally, I still had the urge. Where’s a Vulcan mind-meld when you need one?

  “All right. Tell me.”

  “I do not believe this is the child of Palan of Sarcana.”

  Aaaand now I’m angry again. Is this my fault? I didn’t pay attention to people. Who are they, why are they here, how do they feel, what do they want? I was paying attention to the nuts and bolts of a small civilization instead of the politics and… and… and the drama. I assume it must be at least partly my fault. People exist and I didn’t pay attention to their personal issues. I didn’t care. Worse, I actively avoided all of it. All I wanted was to be left alone, but there were things to do first. Everything I’ve done has been colored by this.

  On the other hand, I suppose it can’t be laid entirely at my feet. Renata could have opened her mouth at any point.

  I wonder if this is more my fault than I think. Firebrand notices things and I rely on it for input. Clearly, it didn’t notice the whole complicated story with Renata, but it didn’t actively probe, either. Bronze notices things, as well, and I rely on her, too. And, of course, I have Leisel taking care of most of the day-to-day things.

  If I didn’t rely on others so heavily, would I have noticed? Would I have asked probing questions? Would I have discovered all this so much earlier?

  Breathe. That’s the ticket. Breathe. I’m immortal and all this will pass away. In a hundred years, who’s going to care?

  Me, possibly. At least there won’t be anyone left to remind me of it, though.

  Renata, meanwhile, looked at me with some concern, halfway between wondering if I was going to kill her and wondering if I was going to abandon her. I didn’t like the look, either, so I stomped on both impulses and tried on a smile. It didn’t feel right. My lips kept trying to slide back and expose my teeth.

  So, I wondered, if Palan wasn’t the father, who did that leave?

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess the father is Naskarl?”

  She nodded, wordlessly. I rubbed my temples and reflected how I really should have pressured her for more information about the baby. Yes, I was distracted by other matters, but that’s not an excuse.

  I suck at being in charge.

  “I’m going to ask you a question,” I said, finally. “I think I’ve asked it before. Can you tell me why Naskarl wants you back so badly? Or words to that effect. I seem to recall your answer was a bit evasive. You didn’t say you didn’t know. You said you couldn’t tell me. Or am I misremembering it?”

  Renata’s face colored, mostly the cheeks.

  “No, sir. You remember it, or close enough.”

  “I think the honorific you’re looking for is Mazhani,” I corrected. “I’m somewhat less than pleased with you just now.”

  “I apologize, Mazhani. I should have spoken sooner.”

  “You’re damn right you sh—” I broke off, swallowed, and tried to unclench… everything. I rolled my shoulders and flexed my hands, loosening everything. I started again. “I’m upset, and you should have told me sooner. This is the situation we have to deal with now, and snapping at you won’t change it. But, yes, I agree you should have been more forthcoming. Why weren’t you?”

  “It was some time ago, Mazhani. Leisel thought you might be a good man, but I didn’t know. We were out in the middle of nowhere, cutting a tiny village out of the jungle, and House Sarcana was a great House with wealth and men and influence. I wasn’t sure you would—or could—keep me safe. It seemed better to keep quiet and not add another worry to your list.”

  “A worry,” I continued for her, “which might have gotten you handed over at the first sign of a vendetta with House Sarcana?”

  “Yes, Mazhani.”

  “Didn’t I come get you?” I complained. “Didn’t I chase after your kidnappers and bring you back, along with them? Didn’t you trust me?”

  “It wasn’t a House issue then!” she protested. “It was personal. You had one of your guards stolen. If you knew they were recovering Sarcana’s property…”

  “First off, people are not property. You belong to yourself, and that’s flat. Second… well, there really isn’t a second. Never mind. Forget the whole thing about not talking then. We’re here now, in this situation, so we deal with it. Talk!”

  For the next three hours, Renata did so, explaining at length and elaborating upon request. The three people mostly involved with the inheritance of the title—manzhani of House Sarcana—were Palan, Naskarl, and Nironda. Palan had the higher rank at birth, despite the fact Naskarl was older and perhaps better suited to run the place. Nironda was the galvanais to Palan, tasked with producing his heir.

  The trouble started when Nironda seemed unable to bear Palan’s children. Maybe it was something as simple as a blood-type incompatibility, or maybe she wasn’t able to carry a child at all, or maybe she deliberately did something to avoid it, or maybe Palan was shooting blanks. Renata didn’t know why Nironda couldn’t have his child, so it didn’t seem to matter much. What she did know was Palan wanted her and… how can I put this? Her loyalty was for sale, as were her services.

  It makes her sound like a whore, I know. Under the technical definition, I suppose she was, but her status was more like a concubine. Palan liked his regular harem, if that’s the word for it, but Renata was less of a soft, pretty toy. She was more dangerous than they were—beautiful, but deadly. Exciting. There’s a difference between a Sleeping Beauty-style princess and Wonder Woman. I guess it all depends on what pops your clutch.

  For quite a while, this arrangement was fine and dandy. Palan kept her on duty semi-regularly so she held her nose and did what she had to.

  While living on the Sarcana estate, however, she discovered Naskarl handled the majority of the House finances and business arrangements. She also discovered he was a remarkably charming man. During the course of their association, they discussed many things, including Palan and Nironda and the relationships among them all. Nironda was also aware of Naskarl’s superior charm—I got the impression there may have been incidents where she and Renata partook of his charms in a joint fashion.

  Still, Nironda wasn’t providing an heir, and this was a problem, especially since Renata kept having to visit an apothecary or a wizard to keep from providing an heir involuntarily. Palan refused to buy her one of the contraceptive charms. Even if she found a way to obtain one, it has to be worn, not put on and taken off. There would be no way to keep Palan from seeing it. Instead, Naskarl paid for the morning-after medication half a dozen times.

  Then Palan took a flaming sword in the guts and died.

  Some rapid thinking and planning took place as Naskarl and Nironda leaped at the opportunity.

  Nironda, as it turns out, really was unable to carry a child to term. Renata, on the other hand, had to go to great lengths to avoid it. If Palan
’s child were to inherit, this would make certain his persona non grata sister, Malais, could not take over from the less-well-born Naskarl through the agency of a more high-born heir. The only trouble was making Nironda produce a child. Still, if everyone could be convinced Nironda was already pregnant when Palan died, Renata—actually pregnant already—could simply not terminate the pregnancy. The two of them could go into seclusion until the baby was born and no one would be the wiser.

  “The trouble,” Renata finished, “was me.”

  “How so?”

  “I would know.”

  “And they wouldn’t want anyone who knew to live to tell about it.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I took service with you. To get far away, hopefully where they would never find me.”

  “Yeah, that worked.”

  “You don’t have to be mean about it,” she observed.

  “I apologize. I’m tempery and ill-mannered. I abase myself in contrition. Just for my information, whose kid is it? Palan’s?”

  “I think it’s Naskarl’s, but I can’t be certain. The timing fits best for him.”

  “In the larger scheme of things, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Naskarl’s plan is shot. Even if he grabbed you today, there would be no way to make it work.”

  “Which means Malais will have an opportunity, provided she can find a suitable high-born.”