Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One

by Justan Henner

  He had spent the morning thinking about Trin, about how he would tell her that Skibs and Rise were dead. How he would tell her that her best friend in the Legion was now dead. Bell knew already that she would use it to hurt itself. That Rise’s death would become further evidence to Trin that she would become the god of Death. She’d already done it with everyone else; her father was dead because of her, the Tyrant of Ternobahl rose because of her. So many things both major and insignificant, that Trin believed herself responsible for no other reason than she had been present. And here was another one…

  He should be in tears right now, he knew. He should be holed up in some private place, breaking down over the loss of two of his closest friends… Skibs had been the one to welcome him into the Owl Guard, the one to train him and make him feel welcome. Rise had taught him to be a scout, how to ride a horse properly and how to keep his bearing. Yet all he could think of was how Trin would take it. How it would be just another thing pulling her closer to that decision she should never have to make.

  And the problem was, he was no longer certain that she was wrong. After the events of last night, almost anything seemed possible. He needed to speak to her. He needed to get back to her. Somehow, he had to get back to her.

  The door opened, pulling Bell from his thoughts. He straightened as Queen Tepa, the younger woman Null, and the green-eyed, elderly man entered the hall. The old man’s stride was brisk and confident, his face beaming. Rin Tepa glared at the man’s back, an angry scowl darkening her face. Null’s features were unreadable; her eyebrows curled inward, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she were annoyed. The old man spoke first.

  “Ah, Legionnaire, you are still on hand. Good. Please escort Atep Rin and her young ward back to their chambers.”

  “Prison,” Rin Tepa corrected.

  The old man glanced back to her with a grin. “A prison? But they are your private quarters. Why would one of your wealth live in a dungeon?”

  Rin Tepa’s frown deepened.

  “You are not the Grand,” Bell said. “I would prefer to take my orders from her alone.”

  “Do you?” the man said. “She implied otherwise, Mister… sorry, I have forgotten your name, what was it?” Shaking his head, the man turned back to the doorway with a dismissive shrug. “Ah, I do not care.”

  “It is Cobbren,” Bell insisted, despite the clear dismissal.

  The man halted in the doorway, his smile widening as his eyes brightened. “Cobbren? Are you by chance related to the former First Magistrate, Evelyn Cobbren?”

  Bell hesitated a moment before answering. “Yes, she was my grandmother.”

  “Ha!” the man laughed. “No wonder Cyleste has seen through your deceptions. Never has there been a Sovereign as transparent as Evelyn Cobbren.”

  Bell frowned. “I am not sure I follow, sir.”

  Queen Tepa offered Bell a reassuring look, but her words did not match her face. “He is implying that your grandmother was a fool, so wrapped up in her own ideals that her every action could be predicted before she even thought of them. Of course, he has no room to criticize such flaws.”

  “Are you calling me a fanatic?” the elderly man demanded.

  “Yes.”

  Bell did not think it possible, but the man’s smile widened even farther, far enough that every tooth in his mouth could be seen. “Perhaps I do not need Sybil after all,” he said.

  “That was not a joke,” Queen Tepa said.

  The man’s smile faltered, his mouth snapping shut with an audible click.

  “Let us go, Legionnaire,” Tepa continued, “Null and I have work to which we must attend.” She stormed away, allowing no time for the old man’s response. The man’s face scrunched into a sneer as he turned in the doorway and reentered the room.

  Bell’s eyes falling back on the queen, he quickened his pace as she and Null turned the corner. He caught up to Null at the foot of the staircase as Rin Tepa began to ascend. The younger woman flashed him a timid glance before her attention returned to the queen.

  “Queen Tepa, who was that man?” Null asked.

  Tepa sighed, but she did not slow, nor did she turn to face the younger woman. “Please, Null, just call me Rin. In light of what’s happened, I am not much of a queen.”

  “But it will be you who rebuilds,” Null said. “That man does not seem to care at all for Dekahn.”

  “Now that is a difficult thing to discern. His concern for the mages seemed genuine, but it does not compare to what he has done.” Tepa’s head shook angrily. “It is hard to say. When I was a child, my father spoke of him with pride and respect. I think perhaps that he was great once, but then again, so was my father.”

  “Is he truly your uncle?”

  “Yes.”

  “I do not understand,” Null frowned. “How is he a leader of these Trellish?” – Null’s eyes panned nervously to Bell – “Are you not the daughter of an innkeeper?”

  “A smith,” Tepa answered. Upon the final step, the queen slowed and then stopped. Falling in on Null’s left, she placed a comforting hand on the younger woman’s arm. When she spoke, her words were clearly for Null’s benefit, but even so, her gaze watched Bell. “Do not worry, my dear, I will explain everything once we have some privacy.”

  “Do not hedge on my account,” Bell laughed. “I am quite curious myself. The Grand treats him like a superior, when she has none except for maybe the Magistrate and the Cleric, but that man is neither.”

  “You have never met him?” Tepa asked.

  “Not before today. I have a few guesses as to who he might be, but none seem reasonable.”

  Tepa’s features softened. “Oh? And how would you define reasonable?”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not certain I can anymore. Yesterday I entered Dekahn to find lit coal housed in wooden frames. Today, I’m uncertain as to which is more surprising; that the wood would not burn, or that it suddenly did. I don’t think I can explain either of those things without concluding it was some sort of divine intervention, and I can’t decide if that’s reason or superstition.”

  “Must it be one or the other?”

  “Pardon?”

  The queen’s voice firmed, as if some uneasy feeling had been lifted from her. “Can I ask you a question, Bell?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why were you not surprised when I showed you what it is to be a mage?”

  “Because,” Bell said, “when I saw, I realized that I had seen a similar thing once before.”

  “Have you now?”

  “Yes.” Bell smiled as the memory returned to him. “The High Cleric once used such a light to cut a sandwich.”

  “A sandwich? If he used it for such a mundane task, then why did you offer me your blade?”

  “Because he also cut his plate, and the table, and the floor tiles beneath that. I offered my sword, because I deemed your threat to be real.”

  “Threat? It was no threat, only a statement of fact.”

  “And here we are, Queen, once again discussing the intricacies of title and intent.”

  Rin Tepa sighed. “Indeed, but as those words belong to me, should you not accept the intent I claim as my true intent?”

  “Assuming you are an honest person, then yes.”

  “And?”

  “And I have been trained to avoid opinion when it comes to prisoners.”

  Rin Tepa smiled. “Then you and I will have to speak again when I am no longer your prisoner.”

  “Is that so?”

  The queen shrugged. “Yes, assuming I do not hate you by then.”

  “You do not hate me already?” Bell asked.

  “The distrust Just shows towards you has placed you ahead.”

  Bell had been ready with another response, but her words made him pause. Just. It does not seem rational, but if I can believe the gods once lived alongside mortals, why is it so hard to believe they still do?

  The silence stretched as Bell considered the impos
sible. The queen watched him, but he hardly noticed.

  “You have been quiet for too long,” the queen said. “Speak your mind, Bell.”

  Bell blinked. “I apologize. I have been thinking.” They reached the queen’s chambers and Bell stopped, holding the door open for his two prisoners.

  “Of?” Tepa asked.

  “Of your name, Queen. The man you have called Just, and the Grand, both of them call you Atep Rin.”

  “And?” Tepa’s right foot shifted on the tiles.

  “And, I may be a soldier, but I am also a priest, and that is to say, I am well read. You call that man Just, and claim that he is your uncle, but more than that, in Dydal’s Pantheon, there is a god whose mortal name is Walter Rin. Smith.”

  The queen laughed. “Making me the Butcher’s daughter,” she said, her tone both mocking and playful. “You were quite right, Bell. Your conclusions are unreasonable.”

  And yet the man you call Just, has said it to be invariably and irrevocably true. Bell thought the words, but he held his tongue. “I hope you are right, Queen, but it seems to me that dishonesty is a difficult thing to overcome.”

  Taking Null by the arm, the queen entered her chambers, turned, and smiled. “Then it is a good thing that you have no opinions of your prisoners.” The door shut behind her.

  Bell laughed. By the queen’s tone, Bell was quite certain she had been flirting with him, but having been trained to expect such advances, Bell was equally certain it was nothing more than manipulation. Rin Tepa was not ugly, but this was not the first time a prisoner under his care had attempted to entice him. Though it is flattering that I should finally be approached by one with all her teeth.

  Sighing, Bell slid to the wall and leaned against it to think. Lu is not an ordinary man, I know that for certain. I have seen him disappear in a flash of light and reappear from nowhere. Whatever allows him to do such things, the queen is also capable of. I thought Lu blessed by the gods, but if he and Rin are gods, it would explain much… The Grand seemed to know that the moon would burn. She knew the Vandu would riot in the courtyard, allowing us to enter the city. Her devotion to ‘certainty’ is devotion to her god. And her god exists. And I have met him.

  Bell laughed. Gods, I am insane. He had to be… This is not an explanation, it is a farce. But it all aligned so perfectly and he had no other explanation. Still, he could not accept it. If he could accept that, then he would have to accept Fate. But Fate isn’t real. It’s all in Trin’s head. My grief has driven me insane. It makes me believe wild theories that my mind would not otherwise entertain. Bell shook his head. Gods, why did it have to be Skibs and Rise? He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to close off the memories of the night before. Real or not, he needed to speak with Trin. But how could he leave? The Grand would never let him go, and even if he left, she still believed him and the others to be traitors.

  Breathing deep, he walked to the next room and hammered on the door. The door opened a crack as Halls’ head popped into view.

  “Aye?” Halls asked.

  “I’m going to find the Grand to ask about Acklin’s trial.” With a nod, Bell motioned to the queen’s chambers. “Keep an eye on them, will you?”

  “Aye,” Halls said, throwing the door open all the way. “Me an’ Rich was just playing some cards. We can take over for a while.”

  “Thanks, I should be back soon.” As Bell turned to leave, he heard the sound of wooden legs scraping on tile. No doubt he would return to a card game in the hall outside Rin Tepa’s door.

  Returning to the staircase, he descended to the first floor and turned left toward the servant’s quarters. With all the cleanup work being done in the palace’s entryway, he thought it best to leave by the servant’s exit at the far end of their dormitories. As he approached, Tel and Kenneth entered, Kenneth carrying his pack and tent and Tel carrying a bundle of what looked like hair.

  Kenneth looked despondent. The stupor caused by his best friend’s death did not look to have ebbed any, his eyes downcast and his face pale. The bandage wrapped about his forehead did little to improve his discontented aura.

  “Kenneth,” Bell smiled. “It is good to see you on your feet.”

  “At least someone still is,” Kenneth answered. Shifting his tent and pack from his left shoulder to his right, Kenneth barely met Bell’s gaze. “I heard we lost Skibs and Rise, too.”

  Looking exhausted, Tel scowled at Kenneth’s irreverent comment.

  Fearing she might scold the man on his behalf, Bell spoke before she had a chance to. “Aye, it’s true.” He knew how the man must be feeling. With his mood, it had seemed a wonder that he had been able to fight at all the night before. But then again, he is a veteran of the Gableman’s Riots. Perval cannot be the first friend he has lost in battle… but perhaps the first he has lost to an ally. “That reminds me,” Bell continued, turning to Tel. “We must send someone to collect their possessions. In fact, Rich and Halls are on duty upstairs, would you mind informing them that I will be a bit longer?”

  Tel smiled grimly. “Not at all, Bell. Would you like some help?”

  “Won’t be necessary,” Kenneth said. “Their things are already gone.”

  “What?” Bell asked.

  “When the whores released me at noon, their tent was already gone. Someone must’ve taken their things.”

  “Who would do such a thing?”

  Kenneth scoffed. “Legion ain’t what it was. Half the soldiers are fools, cheats, thieves, and murderers. Surely you realized as much last night. It’s the Grand’s fault if you ask me. The woman was a rotten soldier back in Gable and she’s an even worse officer. Doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  The Grand did know what she was doing, but after her attempts to kill them the night before, Bell didn’t have it in him to argue with the man. Instead, he glanced to Tel, who shook her head.

  “Well,” Bell said, “I had better speak with Marl. Perhaps she will know what has happened to their things.”

  “Doubt it,” Kenneth stated.

  Tel frowned. Grabbing Kenneth’s sleeve, she pulled him away. “Oh Bell,” she said, turning as she stepped past him. “I almost forgot. That woman from last night, the cooper, she was looking for you.”

  “Is she doing okay?” Bell asked, though he dreaded the answer. They had left her with the refugees the night before and had not heard from her since. After the loss of her children, Bell feared that she might never recover; certainly not so soon.

  “Actually, yes,” Tel said. “She didn’t say much except to ask for you, but she looked surprisingly happy. If you wish to speak with her, she is likely in the courtyard still.”

  “All right, I’ll keep an eye out for her.” With a friendly salute to both and a grim nod, he exited into the courtyard. Almost every inch was thronged with people. Those near the entrance carried tools, and if not tools, they carried buckets of water, blankets, sponges, and even slabs of rubble. From what he knew, the dead had already been cleared from the palace, but the bloodstained walls and furniture were still being cleaned.

  Most of the courtyard’s residents were Legion craftsmen and the others, footmen and kites, who had been ordered to attend to the craftsmen’s needs. Two carpenters hovered near the library, cutting lumber to repair the broken door. A mason sat behind a table outside the barracks, examining fragments of tile and sett, apparently to determine which could be reused. Near the walls, a few men and women worked to patch the holes.

  It would take months, if not years to clear away the rubble of an entire city, and yet the Grand seemed determined to try. The desire to rebuild this city’s life seemed so genuine that Bell almost regained his respect for Cyleste Kantren. If he could be certain the fires had not been the Legion’s fault, he might have forgiven her.

  There is too much that I do not know and it is bound to kill me. The irony is that it shall be the people who might enlighten me who shall do the deed, and they will do it because they believe my knowledge greater than it i
s.

  When Bell found her, the Grand stood underneath the double doors of the palace stable. She spoke with Hornsman Darl, who looked to be so exhausted that he sagged under his own weight. Dark circles had formed beneath eyes that struggled to stay open. A third soldier waited just inside the stable’s first stall, bent over and sifting through a pile of straw, his back to their conversation.

  “And there is no sign of them?” the Grand said.

  “No, Grand,” Darl answered. “None. Last night the scouts had the Old Guard placed two days to the north. Today they’re nowhere to be found.”

  “Two days? You must be mistaken. The Lockish king had a letter on his person, explaining that the Lockish Hegemon was at least a week away.”

  Hornsman Darl shrugged, looking too tired to manage a rebuttal. “I am wont to trust our own scouts over their words, Grand.” Seeing Bell, Darl offered a polite bow and a respectful smile.

  The Grand turned, frowning at the intrusion. “What is it, Legionnaire?”

  “Forgive me, Grand, I was hoping to learn something of Acklin’s trial. We have yet to be informed on when it will occur.”

  “It has already occurred.” As she spoke, Cyleste’s expression was stretched halfway between smug pleasure and annoyance, her smile cocky and her eyes disapproving. “His fate has already been decided.”

  “But that is unjust, Grand. None of my scouts were summoned for testimony.”

  “Yes. Considering the circumstances, it was determined that you and yours were morally unfit to be permitted a voice.”

  “But,” Bell complained. The injustice of her pronouncement had stolen his confidence. “But… you cannot send him to his death without-”

  “His death?” the Grand interrupted. “He is not slated to die.”

  “He isn’t? Then why exclu-”

  “Legionnaire Acklin,” Cyleste bellowed, “attend.”

  The soldier in the first stall straightened, saluting while he turned to face the Grand. “This one’s clear too, Grand,” Acklin said, motioning with a kick of his foot to the hay pile.