Weapon of Fear (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy II Book 1)
Page 41
She never got the chance.
“Noooo, wizard!” The tiny burning woman darted in, her blazing hands closing around the archmage’s wrist. Flesh hissed under her burning grasp.
Duveau screamed. His hand spasmed open and the black sphere fell into the mire of blood and metal. He tried to fling the fiery woman from his arm, shrieking arcane words. Frost formed around his other hand even as blood pulsed from his neck, and the little burning woman’s eyes grew wide with fear.
Mya’s fingers found a broken spear, the splintered tip of the shaft needle sharp. She took aim and threw it with all her strength.
This time she didn’t miss.
The broken shaft pierced Duveau’s left eye and exited through the top of his skull. The archmage’s head snapped back, and he stood there for a moment like a bloody silver pillar, then dropped like a poleaxed steer.
Mya leaned back and heaved a sigh. It was over. Shifting as the last of her broken bones ground back into place, she started as the tiny burning woman flew at her, black teeth gleaming in a snarl.
“Sssilly woman! Master Woefler promised I could eat him, and you ruined it!”
“Sorry.” Mya coughed, and felt a catch in her chest. Swallowing her nausea—No pain—she wrenched a piece of broken plate armor from between her ribs and dropped it to the floor. Plucking a few more pieces of metal from her flesh, she waved toward Duveau’s body. “You can have what’s left.”
“Oh, he’s no good now! There’s nothing left but meat! No sssoul!” The flaming woman glared at her with eyes that blazed like Hades, then flew away.
Mya lurched to her feet and looked toward the dais, wondering if she had struck in time.
Arbuckle sat amid a pile of fallen metal and a heap of blood-soaked robes, his shoulders heaving. The crown prince of Tsing was alive. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say as much for the prince’s wizard. Bright blood painted the mage’s flamboyant robes as he lay in Arbuckle’s arms, his sweat-sheened face a deathly gray. His hands were gone, and blood pulsed from the stumps of his wrists. The prince was trying to staunch the flow, but to little effect. Mya shook her head. The wizard would bleed out in moments without a healer unless—
Duveau.
Mya dropped to her knees, searching the litter of bloody metal until she found what she was looking for. Plucking the black sphere from the gore, she glanced to the prince and his dying mage.
Maybe…
Chapter XXIX
Outside the magical barrier, steel and gold fell in a clangorous hail. Keyfur’s lonely wailing chant against the sudden silence jolted Arbuckle out of his stupor. The wizard’s voice broke, and the scintillating barrier vanished. Arbuckle forced his muscles into motion and caught Keyfur as the mage’s knees folded. Blood pulsed from the ends of the poor man’s ravaged arms.
“Help!” the prince screamed, clutching at the bleeding stumps to staunch the flow. “Get a healer!”
“My…lord…” Keyfur’s eyes fluttered, his dark skin sheened with sweat. “I’m…”
“Hang on, Keyfur! We’ll get you help.” Arbuckle clenched his hands hard on the bleeding wrists and looked up to see Tennison and Ithross dashing toward him.
“Milord! Are you hurt?” Tennison fell to his knees, his eyes wide, Ithross at his heels.
“I’m fine, but Keyfur’s bleeding. Get a healer, Tennison! Now!”
“At once, milord!” His secretary lunged up and dashed away.
“Imperial Guard, to me!” Ithross waved over a guard and gestured toward the bleeding mage. “Let us take care of him, Milord. You should be out of here. It’s not safe for you.”
“I’m fine!” Arbuckle snapped, looking around at the chaos of blood and twisted metal, nobles and courtiers still fleeing in panic. “I’ll stay with him. Get a godsdamned healer here now!”
The strange elation of being alive clashed with the guilt that sustaining his life had cost so many others their own. He stared down into Keyfur’s sickly gray face, at the drooping eyes and shallow breath, death hovering there. No… Please… He felt the man’s thin pulse racing under his grasp, weaker every moment.
“Milord Prince!”
Arbuckle looked up to see a cordon of grim imperial guards surrounding a woman in snug black clothing spattered with blood. The sight of her seemed surreal, like a dark spirt or angel of death. Who was she?
“Milord!” Something glistened in her outstretched hand. “I may have something to help him.”
Two guards made to grab her arms.
“Wait!” Ithross strode to her, sword in hand. “I saw you! You killed Duveau. Why?”
“Because I was ordered to!” The woman waved impatiently at Keyfur. “There’s no time for explanations!”
“Let her through! If she killed Duveau, then surely she’s not here to kill me!” Arbuckle felt the wizard’s pulse weakening. “Now, Captain!”
“Give it to me!” Ithross commanded, extending his hand.
The woman pressed a tiny black sphere into the captain’s palm. “I don’t’ know what it does, milord, but Duveau wanted desperately to put it in his mouth after I stabbed him.”
Ithross quickly knelt and poked the sphere between Keyfur’s lips.
Nothing happened.
“Why isn’t it working?” Arbuckle looked at the woman hopelessly.
“I don’t…” Glancing around, the woman hurried to the shattered tables that had held all the accoutrements of the ceremony. Snatching up a fallen bottle of sacramental wine, she handed it to Ithross. “Make him swallow it.”
“Do it!” Arbuckle ordered.
Ithross pulled the crystal stopper and poured some into the injured wizard’s mouth, then held his nose. Keyfur coughed and swallowed, then drew a ragged breath. His eyes suddenly flung wide.
“Lords of Light!” Arbuckle released his grip on the wizard’s wrists and stared in shock.
Flesh flowed like melting wax, forming over the bleeding stumps. The skin there bulged into buds that grew into tiny hands. As the miniature members grew, Keyfur lifted his arms and stared in wonder. His newly forming hands fleshed out to their original size, hale and unblemished, in a matter of seconds.
Arbuckle breathed a sigh of relief. At least one life had been spared.
“Milord, I—” Keyfur’s eyes suddenly widened again, and he retched. The black marble fell from his mouth to the floor.
“What in the names of all the gods…” Arbuckle stared as Ithross scooped up the mysterious sphere.
“It’s a fleshforge, milord.” Keyfur flexed his newly reforged hands and grinned in delight. “I had heard that Duveau possessed one, but I wasn’t sure. How did you get it?”
Everyone turned to the mysterious woman in black.
“I…I didn’t know.” She shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I just saw him trying to swallow it and assumed…”
“Just who might you be that you come to my aid, then save the life of my only remaining wizard?” Arbuckle accepted the help of several guards to stand.
“Moirin, milord. Lady Monjhi’s bodyguard.” She curtsied and gestured toward a dark-haired woman standing all alone in the nearly vacated Great Hall. “I came as her protector, but she ordered me to aid you.”
“It was…quite amazing, milord, how she dealt with Duveau,” Ithross said.
“I’ve no doubt. Lady Monjhi!” Arbuckle beckoned her to approach. He remembered seeing her in the company of his father once or twice, but they had never been formally introduced. “Your action saved my life! You have my thanks!”
“It…was the least I could do, milord.” She curtsied low.
Tennison hurried up with Master Corvecosi in tow
The healer stared at the blood on Arbuckle’s clothes. “Milord! Are you injured?”
“No, my good man, but there are many who are. Please see to the wounded.”
“At once, milord!”
“Might we use this, milord?” Ithross held up the tiny black sphere.
“It may help, but its po
wer to heal is not infinite.” Keyfur plucked it from the captain’s hand. “If swallowed when its power is depleted, it’ll be destroyed forever.”
“Use it sparingly, then. Master Keyfur, accompany Master Corvecosi and use this fleshforge on anyone close to death.” As the healer and wizard hurried off, Arbuckle took a deep and cleansing breath. “Gods of Light, I’m alive, thanks to you, Lady Monjhi, and your amazing bodyguard. Moirin, is it?”
“Yes, milord.” The woman in black curtsied again, a sardonic smile on her lips. “I was just doing as I was told.”
“Well, regardless, you both have my gratitude. As soon as we get this mess sorted out and a crown on my head, you’ll know what the gratitude of an emperor means!” Arbuckle laughed. He’d been granted a second chance at life, and was determined to make the most of it.
“Milord, you can’t seriously expect to continue with the coronation today!” Tennison looked aghast. “The place is a shambles, and people have died!”
“The Great Hall is a shambles, Tennison, and people have died for me today. They died to protect me, to keep me alive because they thought I would be a good emperor. If I delay my coronation, I risk wasting their dying efforts.” Arbuckle felt more certain about this than anything he’d done. Straightening his mantle, bloody though it was, he fixed his entourage with a steely glare. “I will be crowned emperor today! Tell everyone that once I’ve changed clothes, we’ll move the coronation to the south gardens and make the best of it! The injured will be cared for here.”
“At once, milord!” Tennison bowed and hurried off.
“Lady Monjhi, I hope that you and your amazing young bodyguard will consent to be my special guests at the reception afterword.”
“At your pleasure, milord. And please, call me Lady T. All my friends do.” The lady’s glance slid sideways as she curtsied. “May I request leave for my bodyguard to don something more appropriate for a coronation? Her gown was ruined in the fracas.”
“Of course.” He waved away the details. “Captain, have the ladies escorted to someplace appropriate and summon the imperial tailor.”
“Yes, milord!” Ithross waved guards forward.
“Thank you, milord.”
After the lady and her bodyguard curtsied and hurried away in the company of two imperial guards, Arbuckle allowed his cadre to usher him out of the Great Hall. Glancing back, he spied Duveau’s corpse sprawled on the flagstones, encircled by guards.
What could have seduced someone as formidable and upright as Duveau into betraying me? Is no one above corruption?
The thought sobered him. His midnight visitor had been right about Duveau. What about the rest of the names on that list? If a conspiracy to assassinate him still existed, he dare not ignore it. Today, however, he would be crowned Emperor Tynean Tsing III, and rejoice in being alive.
Mya sank back into the plush seat of Lady T’s carriage. It had been a long day, and she was both tired and wound as tight as a watch spring. She stared at Lady T as the footman closed the door, waiting until they had clattered through the gates of the palace and onto the streets of Tsing before she spoke.
“So, Baroness Monjhi, how did it feel to be personally toasted by the new emperor?” She raised her hand as if holding a goblet of wine. “‘To Lady Tara Monjhi, who risked her own life when she ordered her bodyguard to leave her side in defense of her sovereign.’”
Tara still seemed a little stunned by all that had transpired, but managed a wry smile. “You didn’t do so badly yourself.”
Mya wasn’t sure if the guildmaster was referring to the emperor’s praise of Moirin the bodyguard, or Mya’s timely murder of Duveau. It didn’t matter. It was done. She had succeeded and survived, and even profited. Mya fingered the necklace that rested upon the lace at her throat—amethysts surrounded by diamonds—a king’s ransom in jewels. It wasn’t as great a gift as Lady T’s new barony, but it would support her for a long, long time. And Dee had been right about one more thing: she’d danced with an emperor.
“So, Baroness,” Mya grinned, “how do you plan to deal with your newly acquired fame and fortune?”
“Oh, shut up.” The lady’s glare was unfeigned. “This will cause me no end of strife with the nobility. Do you think they’ll welcome the person who saved the emperor and ruined their lives? They’ll curse me every time their servants act up and flout their newly acquired rights. My name will be ‘Mud’ for a very long time. And then there’s Hoseph. He’ll try to kill me for this.”
“Yes, he will.” Mya had been thinking about Hoseph. “I guess that means that you’re on my side now whether you like it or not. I have a simple solution: help me kill Hoseph first, and we get down to real guild business. This city is ripe for fleecing, and with a baroness touting our services, we’ll be raking in more gold from your blue-blooded peers than you’ve ever seen before.”
“There is that,” Lady T admitted with a frown. “But until Hoseph is dead, I’m going to need protection, and I mean real protection, every hour of every day.”
Mya screwed up her face. “You’ve got the entire Tsing guild. Isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t understand. He knows where I live. Where I sleep! He could pop in any moment.”
“Stay someplace safe until he’s dead.”
“I can’t just disappear. I have a reputation to maintain, especially now that I’m a baroness. I’ll have to live in fear until I see his corpse.”
“Welcome to my world,” Mya muttered, then added, “I suggest you keep your crossbow handy.”
“I always do. But I don’t relish sleeping surrounded by heavily armed Enforcers.” Lady T turned away and looked out the window, watching the city roll past.
After a time, Mya asked the question she’d wanted answered for weeks. “So, were you playing both sides, waiting for either Hoseph or me to kill the other?”
Lady T looked startled, then shrugged in resignation. “What if I was? You’ve trumped my best card. I’ve got nowhere to go now but with you. Tomorrow I’ll convene my people and name you Grandmaster.”
“Good. I think we’ll work well together, now that things are out in the open.”
Lady T shrugged again, then her eyes narrowed slyly. “Would you like me to drop you at home?”
“If you wish. I live at—”
The baroness opened a tiny door and called up to her driver, “The corner of Tanner Street and Archer!”
“Yes, milady!”
Mya let the lady’s little power play slide by without comment. It didn’t surprise her that the guildmaster knew where she lived. Hoseph had undoubtedly told her.
They continued on in silence. There was nothing much more to discuss. Mya stared out at the setting sun, weary with the day’s events, but satisfied. She’d won. With the guildmaster on her side, the guild was hers. She rubbed the ring Lad had put on her finger and smiled. The hard part was over.
The carriage rumbled to a stop before the orphanage, and one of the guards leapt down to open the door for Mya.
She got out, turning back to fix the guildmaster with a serious stare. “Be careful, milady.”
“You know I will be.”
“Good. I’ll call on you tomorrow afternoon.”
“That will be fine…” Lady T paused, then nodded respectfully, “…Grandmaster.”
Mya smiled, nodded, and stepped back. The Enforcer closed the carriage door and clambered up to his post.
“Home, driver!” Lady T called up, and the man applied his whip.
Mya’s keen ears picked up an excited yell from inside her orphanage—“She’s home!”—and the sound of feet pounding down stairs and across squeaky floors. She watched the beautiful team of horses lurch into motion, then turned to see Dee and Paxal emerging from the doorway, flanked by smiling urchins. Home…
“No! Wait! I—”
Mya whirled at Lady T’s cry of alarm. “Oh, gods…” She was moving before she gave it a second thought. Godsdamned deathtrap of a carriage!
The other guard leapt down, but Mya shoved him aside and wrenched open the carriage door. She caught a glimpse of black mist, quickly dissipating. Lady T sat staring at nothing, her face blank.
“No!” Mya whirled in case Hoseph popped in behind her, but found only the guard staring wide-eyed at his dead mistress. Lunging into the carriage, Mya clasped Tara’s wrist, but felt no pulse. No life. No soul. She stumbled out of the carriage. “Gods damn it to all Nine Hells!”
“What happened?” The guards looked at Mya, their dead guildmaster, then back to Mya. “Who killed her? How did they—”
“It was Hoseph. I saw him fading away into mist.”
Recognition dawned in the guards’ eyes. They’d worked for Lady T long enough to know of the high priest’s preternatural abilities.
Dee and Pax hurried up, their eyes wide. “What happened?”
Mya nodded into the carriage. “That bastard Hoseph murdered her.” A thought sparked, and she stepped up into the carriage once more. “Gods damn him! Her ring’s gone! He must have taken it.”
I had it! I had it all! Mya stepped out of the carriage and clamped down on her raging emotions.
Staring at the guards, she pointed to their dead guildmaster. “You heard what she said to me! When you opened the door and I stepped out, you heard it, didn’t you?” They evaded her gaze. She strode up to the one who had opened the door and grasped his shirt front. “I don’t care if you were eavesdropping. You heard! What did she say to me?”
“She…she called you Grandmaster.”
“That’s right! You’re all Enforcers, and you know what that means. You have no guildmaster and I’m your Grandmaster, so listen closely. You!” Mya stabbed a finger toward another of the guards. “You’re going to summon constables and report that Baroness Monjhi has been murdered by High Priest Hoseph, who is also wanted for questioning in Emperor Tynean Tsing II’s murder.”
They looked at her wide eyed. “Tell the constables?”