Skeelana said, “Why thank you, Arki. So good of you to look out for me. I can’t wait to vomit.”
Mulldoos snorted. “Got a real way with the lady folk, you do. Real charmer.”
Soffjian gave me a look that sent shivers chasing each other across my skin. “Do you have anything useful to provide?”
I looked at Hewspear, and then said, “Lloi asked for fluids. Wine, water. But I think that was because she was chanting. Though perhaps just because it was arduous, and she was thirsty. I don’t know. But she did want fluid.”
“Nothing useful then.” She reclaimed Skeelana’s attention. “You are a Memoridon of the highest order. While you are attempting something beyond your normal scope, I have no doubt you can perform the task at hand. And without ridiculous chanting. Though if you do grow thirsty, you have only to ask, and Arki will run and fetch you something. Though I wouldn’t suggest wine. Nasty coming back up.”
Mulldoos laughed, and Soffjian ignored him. “Ready then?”
Skeelana nodded, and while it appeared she tried to stifle a smile, she couldn’t mask it completely. She was excited. Almost giddy. “History it is.”
There was no chanting, thankfully. And I didn’t have to run off to fetch anything. Skeelana didn’t even strip the captain’s tunic off, or resort to any other primitive parts of the ritual that Lloi had employed. And she didn’t take half the night to do what was asked of her either.
She sat on a stool by the captain’s side, one hand raised just above his head, eyes closed, face calm for the most part, only occasionally shifting or jerking, as if she felt an unseen needle prick her or swallowed or smelled something foul. But otherwise, it was unremarkable.
No one seemed particularly at ease, but Vendurro least of all, and he excused himself, claiming the need to check on the men. Mulldoos paced a few times until Soffjian hissed at him and told him to be still. He seemed ready to lay into her when Hewspear caught his eye and shook his head, looking at Skeelana and Braylar. Mulldoos scowled but leaned backed against the wall.
It took no more than two hours, though they passed with excruciating slowness. When Skeelana opened her eyes, blinked them quickly, face pale, and announced it was done, Mulldoos leaned forward and asked, “That it? You sure you got it all?”
Soffjian tsked and said, “First, you worry about her dawdling and intruding into whatever horrible secrets my brother is hiding, and now you chide her for working too efficiently? You can’t have it both ways, Syldoon.”
Just the same, he echoed the question as Skeelana rose unsteadily to her feet. “Yes,” she replied. “I did. Though I’m fairly sure this Lloi of yours didn’t draw it all out before. Some vestiges were… old. Very old.” Then she looked at me, growing paler by the moment. “If you’ll excuse me now, I do believe I have to expunge something myself.” She hurried from the room on wobbly legs, pulling the door shut behind her with a bang.
I heard her taking the stairs two at a time as Braylar roused. While he looked groggy, like a man deprived of sleep who finally was allowed some respite before being woken again, it took him only a moment to register where he was, and more importantly who was in the room with him.
He sat up straight in bed, eyes locked on his sister. She leaned against the wall and smiled. “Welcome back, brother.”
Hewspear stood next to the bed and asked, “How do you feel, Captain?”
Whatever fog he had burnt off quickly. Without looking away from his sister, he replied, “I feel as if my loyal lieutenants have once again found it impossible to obey a direct command. I hadn’t thought there was much ambiguity with this one. I would love to hear the justification for this latest bit of egregious insubordination. Truly I would. Right after my sister bids farewell.”
Before Hewspear or Mulldoos could speak, Soffjian said, “Your men saved your life, Bray. They had misgivings about inviting me into your parlor, you can be sure, but they knew they had exhausted every other possible remedy. You were down and lost in a multitude of memories, none your own. They summoned me. Skeelana healed you. You truly are an awful patient.”
“Unless quite a bit transpired while I was lost, Skeelana is still your kind, sister. And therefore, very, very unwelcome in my skull.”
“Welcome or no, we saved you. Well, I had very little to do with it, in fact. But Skeelana saved you, and cleaned up quite a bit of debris your little grass fairy missed, despite you cordially inviting her in. I would think some thanks are in order.”
Her smugness seemed designed to rile him up. Instead, he asked, quietly. “Why?”
“Why what? Thank us? That seems self-evident.”
He shook his head slowly, leaned back against the rickety headboard. “No. Why help me? I know my men disregarded me entirely and entreated you. But why agree? Why help me?” This didn’t seem like a gambit or repartee. Braylar looked genuinely puzzled. And distraught.
I expected Soffjian to offer a quip, or something soaked in sarcasm. Instead, she leaned against the wall, composed her response, and said, “Do you recall when the Syldoon came to our island, Bray? When the Sanctuary was… disrupted?”
After a long pause he replied, “Of course. What of it?”
“Well, then of course you remember what we saw, what happened there, right in front of us.”
Braylar pushed off the headboard, back rigid, eyes bloodshot slits. But he kept his voice level. “There aren’t enough years to be had to forget such things. I do hope you are arriving at something resembling a point.”
Soffjian stared at him, or through him. “Oh, I believe, even muddled as you are, you know what point I am getting at. Unless you have somehow forgotten the vow you made after.”
Mulldoos and Hewspear gave each other a curious look as their captain replied, “A vow was made. By a foolish, grief-damaged boy. Driven to greater heights of foolishness by his sister. What of it?”
She gave a cold smile. “Revenge was yours by right. I would have stood a better chance of pulling it off, truly. But not having a cock, that proved problematic. So I aided you, counseled you, helped you plan it—”
“Helped me botch it. One stupid child counseling another.”
“Children or not, you swore over the body of our father, swore before our ancestors and gods—”
“That is why they call it a vow.”
“Swore it would be done. You would kill the killer and then bring down their whole empire. Something melodramatic and impractical like that if memory serves.”
Mulldoos slapped his good leg and laughed. “You really say that, Cap?”
Braylar snapped, “I did indeed. As idiot children are wont to do.”
“You were a child,” Soffjian said, “but a vow made is a vow made, isn’t it? Only, you never fulfilled it. And a tenyear later, you swore a different vow, didn’t you? To those selfsame fuckers who murdered our father.”
Braylar said, “To the Tower. There is a distinction here. What—?”
“Oh, but you’re all murderers at heart, aren’t you? So, two vows, one to your kin alive and dead, the other to the bastards that abducted you. I was there for both, if you recall.”
“Impossible to forget,” Braylar replied. There seemed to be more meaning freighted to this, but I didn’t know the import.
“And several years later, forced to choose between the two, you opted to keep the one made to the conquerors and plunderers. The murderers with nooses. Isn’t that right?”
Mulldoos looked confused. “Cap, is she talking—”
“I did my duty, Soffjian,” Braylar said, ignoring Mulldoos.
“To your new brothers. Your adopted kin. Yes. But to me, our father, our homeland, that vow, that promise, it no longer had meaning to you. Did you mean it, even back then? Right after our father had a blade buried in his stomach, did you mean it then?”
Braylar’s teeth barely parted as he spoke, a throaty rasp. “You healed me, sister, or played a role. For that, I have an unfortunate debt. But that won’t stop me
from striking you down the second it is repaid.”
She continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “Who would hold a man to a vow he made as an enraged child, ancestors as witnesses or no? But it isn’t solely father. You had a chance to save our people, Bray, and you failed. You chose your new murderous brethren over true kin.”
“And you overstate and overheat things, as you’ve always done. I followed my Tower Commander’s orders. Honored my vows. Nothing more. There was no opportunity to save anyone. Our people, who, I remind you, I hadn’t seen in fifteen years, and were strangers to me—they doomed themselves.”
“Your Tower Commander sought your counsel. And you sought mine before giving it. Exactly as you did when preparing your plan of vengeance so very many, many years ago. Only this time, you chose to ignore it.”
“I told my Commander what he needed to know, Soff. All for the Empire. You remember so much with perfect clarity. Save that. We are Empire now. You, me. Everyone in this room. There is no going back.”
Soffjian leaned forward, looking every bit as predatory as her brother normally did. “You rejected your homeland, your ancestors, your people. Tell yourself whatever serves as a salve but do not pretend you did what you could for them. You could have persuaded the Tower Commander to a different course of action.”
“I did what I could. This is ancient history, and has nothing to do with the now.”
Soffjian gripped the haft of her ranseur in both hands, knuckles growing white. “You asked me why I helped you.”
“Which you failed to clarify. Utterly.”
“I swore an oath to my captors as well. To the same Commander. And part of that vow was to keep you alive at all costs.”
He gave a half-smile, or the twitchy resemblance to one. “Commendable. See how rewarding maintaining your vows can be?”
Soffjian moved away from the bed. “But know this, brother. I, too, have another vow. Grounded in the fervor for Tower and Empire you conveniently espouse. And if a time comes when my pledge to keep you alive is superseded, and I am no longer restrained, you can be sure I will marshal my hate for you into action. I will not hesitate in the slightest to do so. I will ruin you. And that will be truly rewarding,”
The muscles in Braylar’s arms were corded from keeping him upright, and he trembled ever so slightly with the strain. “I stand warned. Well, recline warned, really. But many thanks, just the same.”
Soffjian marched out of the room, leaving a daunting silence in her wake. I had a hundred questions, none of which I could ask. Hewspear and Mulldoos seemed to be steadying themselves for the verbal lashing they expected.
For his part, the captain settled back against the chipped headboard, breathing fast, face flushed, fingers digging into the mattress as if he hoped to claw the straw out, his eyes still on the door.
It felt as if we were frozen in a frieze, time passed so slowly. I expected someone to clear his throat or announce something, but the silence seemed to have been almost spell-woven, it was so resolute and powerful.
Finally, Braylar said, to everyone and no one, “You have doomed me. You know this, yes?”
Hewspear looked at both of us before saying, “Captain, we were simply out of options. You had sunk too deep. That was doom, doom we couldn’t afford. So—”
“Do you suspect my sister will simply forget this happened? What she discovered? She is a Memoridon. Bloodsounder. Memory magic. Memoridon. And one who seethes to see me undone. But this is larger than me. If Skeelana has divined our secondary purpose in this region, and reports it to my sweet sister, that, too will be cut short. Everything we’ve accomplished here, and hope to, undone.” He released the mattress, flexed his fingers.
“Got to say, Cap,” Mulldoos replied, “Borderline ungrateful, really. We disobeyed you, aye, but Skeelana saved your—”
“Larger. It is larger. Out. The lot of you. And send someone up with some ale. Any ale will do. Just so long as the man who brings it isn’t one of you. Or I will be in need of my sister’s help again. And that I simply can’t stomach.”
Though his words lacked the usual volume and venom, there was no mistaking the absolute truth in them.
Everyone filed out without another word. I was the last, and stopped at the door, turned around to ask whether he wanted it closed or not. Braylar was staring at Bloodsounder, the chains spread on the bed next to him, one of the heads of the Deserter Gods tipped so it appeared to be staring back at him. Or would have been, if it hadn’t had spikes extending in place of eyes.
I closed the door quickly, shivering, as if I had just seen an apparition. Though it was hard to say whether the man or the weapon seemed more haunted, saved or no.
I crept down the stairs as quietly as possible. The ground floor was dark except for a few tapers here or there still barely glowing, and most of the men had claimed rooms from the looks of it, or left to bunk down in one of the nearby houses, but there were still some forms on the common room floor. Hewspear and Mulldoos were nowhere to be seen, so I assumed they must have left already. Which was all for the best. Bumping into Mulldoos in the dark was only marginally better than being crept up on by Soffjian.
The stairs were worn smooth and indented where traffic over the years had been heaviest, but even stepping elsewhere, the boards creaked and groaned as if they were designed to wake everyone sleeping within one hundred feet. Still, I managed to get to the bottom without disturbing anyone, but I wasn’t ready to go to sleep. I navigated through the room without too much trouble, though I did nearly trip over someone’s foot before finally making it out the door.
Outside, the night air was cold, and I clutched the writing case tight, hunched my shoulders, shivered, and started walking, unsure what my plan was. There were some blankets in the wagon in the barn and I briefly considered heading there, if not for the night, at least until I cleared my head. But my last visit there hadn’t gone all that well, so I kept going.
Even with the moon and its ring flaring brightly in the mostly cloudless sky, and the stars out in force, the village and the world around was as close to complete darkness as you could imagine. The fact that it was utterly deserted except for our small troop made it all the stranger. Lost in the Green Sea, there was a sense of desolation, hopelessness I never imagined I could repeat in any remotely populated area. But here, with all of the trappings of civilization but none of the population, it was somehow even lonelier.
I was feeling forlorn and frankly sorry for myself when I thought I saw a silhouetted figure standing in a small lane between two houses. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but there was no mistaking it—I wasn’t alone. There was a figure there, still as a scarecrow, where no scarecrow could possibly be. My heart started beating like a rabbit’s, and I cursed myself for leaving Lloi’s sword in the wagon, even if I was just as likely to hurt myself with it as anyone else. An assailant might not know that.
The voice almost made me unleash my bladder. “You were right. About the vomit. And I’m glad I didn’t have any wine. I think. Though that might have dulled the sensations a little, it wouldn’t have improved the taste at all.”
I breathed easier and started to walk forward, but then thought better of it. Perhaps Skeelana wanted to be alone. “How are you? I mean, I know you’re not well. Based on seeing someone do what you did before. What they did before. Not you. Since you hadn’t. Done it before, that is.” Mulldoos was right—I was a charmer. “How are you?”
“Aside from spewing my guts out, you mean?” She laughed, though I suspected at least partially forced. “Well. Thank you. And you’re right—I’ve never done anything like that before. And hope never to again. Finding those memories, of the men he killed with that thing? That took the most time, but was the easiest part of it really. Taking them into myself though, ridding him of them. That…” I couldn’t see her face. She paused, and possibly shuddered, though it could have been a trick of the night. “That was painful. And difficult. Every part of me rebelled against d
oing it. I’ve taken memories from someone before, but they were always his own. Completely different. These… the woman in your company described it as poison, right? And that is accurate, to a point, but…”
It hung there for a bit, and then I did approach closer and lowered my voice. “But?”
“But, it was more than that. Worse than that.”
I almost didn’t want to know. “How so?”
After pausing again, Skeelana said, “Poison is dangerous, deadly even, but natural. It isn’t malicious. But those memories? They were unnatural, but more than that. And not just the fact they were foreign, and didn’t belong, though that accounted for some of it. But some residue of something… worse. A taint of some kind.”
I was confused. “A taint? Of what?”
“Bloodsounder. The captain didn’t steal those memories. The weapon did. And there was some malice, or maybe worse, involved. It’s hard to describe, and even saying it out loud…”
She searched for the right words and shook her head. “Preposterous. It sounds preposterous, I know.” Skeelana sounded tired, and somewhat spellbound as well, as if she’d been walking up the stairs of an incredibly tall tower, trapped in a dizzying spiral, exerting herself to the fullest, only to reach a landing and look out over an expansive, and perhaps terrifying, landscape. “Being bombarded by those memories, incredibly intimate reminders from the men he killed. It was like talking with ghosts. But even that isn’t quite right. There was something about each memory I absorbed from Killcoin, took on myself. It was as if I could feel Blood-sounder behind me. And it was…” She shook her head. “I know how ridiculous it sounds. But there was rage, a silent rage there. The flail didn’t want me to drain those memories from him. It would have fought me off if it could have. It wanted to.”
She looked at me, the rings in her nose and ears catching the moonlight, and I could feel her searching, measuring my reaction, tense, as if expecting me to laugh or call her a fool. Instead, I was trying to decide which questions I could ask while I had the chance, without taxing her too much. “Soffjian didn’t look as… surprised as I would have guessed. When Hewspear and the others described what had befallen or bedeviled the captain. In fact, and this might not be generous, she seemed as if the words confirmed something she already knew or suspected. This isn’t the first time Memoridons have encountered something like this, is it?”
Veil of the Deserters Page 24