Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One

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Death's Merchant: Common Among Gods - Book One Page 100

by Justan Henner


  The queen’s smile was sad. “I did. At the time. You were like him in many ways… but I was glad to see that I was wrong. You have grown to be so much more than he ever could have been, child.”

  “But…” Null began. The queen sounded remorseful, but the urge to fight was strong. It seemed too important not to keep pressing, because if the queen had overlooked this, what else had she overlooked? What else was she keeping to herself?

  “Why not tell me before?” Null managed. “Why not tell me when I asked you in the library?”

  “Because I was only a queen to you then. How could I explain my experiences, experiences that are in no book or log or story, experiences that are four hundred years old, without revealing myself?”

  “Would it have been so bad if I had known the truth?”

  “You were a child.”

  “You know… I am not one any longer.”

  The queen studied her for a tense moment, a moment that stretched long enough to make Null want to twitch. Finally, the queen nodded. “You are right. In retrospect, we should have told you everything, and I regret not doing so, but must we rehash this ground again and again? Are you angry, Null?”

  Null pursed her lips. She was. It was a foolish thing, she’d just watched a man break and run, and all she could think of was this one silly thing. “A little,” Null managed.

  “That’s fair. You have every right to be angry.”

  The shame in the queen’s tone gave Null pause. She liked the queen; even when she had believed Rin Tepa an Atheist, Null had admired her. She didn’t want to be angry forever, but neither could she let it go. Not yet.

  Instead of admit this, Null changed the subject. “Will she come for me too?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “The Mother. She came for him, for the boy, will she come for me as well?”

  The queen tsked an annoyed sigh. “You and he are not the same.”

  “But the dreams,” Null argued. “The ones which teach me the magic. Mycah believed it might be a god influencing my thoughts.”

  Rin Tepa snorted. “Mycah is… overeager in his estimation of the gods. There are ways to touch a mortal’s mind, but you would know if one had. It requires a consensual agreement, and the only people I know of who can do such things are Just and Fate. The simple fact is that most of us are not that skilled, and even if the Mother were trying to manipulate you… well then… something tells me that Just would have known it… and he would not have taken pity on you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Null, you heard what I said to Bell. You heard his fears. Fate or the Mother, it matters not. If Just believed you to be a servant to his Mother… if he believed you were siding somehow with those who opposed his goals, he will do the same to you as he did to the first Entaras.”

  Null looked at the floor. She didn’t want to think about that. Was she right to open her mouth and tell Bell what she knew? Was she right to tell him who Fate was? Tepa’s feet were at the corner of Null’s view. Was there something sinister behind her life here in the palace? Had the queen manipulated Null all her life?

  Is that what gods did?

  She cleared her throat. “If… if not messages from a god, then what are the dreams?”

  Rin Tepa’s words were blunt, not the kind of answer of someone who was keeping secrets. “They are more likely a manifestation of your aspect. As I have said before, the birthright is not a homogenous force… It is different in each of us. For Mycah, the magic means cauldrons and censers, incense and alembics, books and other tokens, the sort of things Mystic herself would use. For others of us, all the magic wants is a skill, and often it develops within us to accommodate that skill, to enable it, and to ease the passage into godhood.”

  “So… I could become a god?” Knowing what she knew now, she wasn’t sure she wanted that.

  “Of course, you are godkind, Null. As I said before, each of us is capable of attaining an aspect, even those who did not obtain the magic through their birthright.”

  “But then… how do I know what my aspect is?”

  “You don’t. It will come naturally. It is an extension of the self, and the best way to shape it is to do the things that come natural to you, the things you would have done otherwise.”

  “I must be a rather dull person if sleep is what comes naturally to me.”

  She’d meant it for a serious comment, but the queen laughed. “We shall see, Null. You never know what the signs mean until the aspect is obvious, and for many that never happens. I mean, Planner? How do you see the signs of such a concept? I did not have any clues as to what my aspect would be, so instead, I looked for the tasks in life which made me happy, and it just so happened the aspect came with the pleasure of my hobbies.”

  “Can I ask something then, Queen?”

  “Of course, child.”

  “What about Just? If he was Justice before, what is he now? If he… if he would do as you said… if he would kill someone simply because they might become pawns of someone he opposed… what is he?”

  The queen shook her head. “I don’t know. An aspect can change. It is rare, but it is possible. It is possible that he is still Just, and perhaps it was the rest of us who changed, but… he is more hasty now. More sure of himself, and often in situations when he should not be.”

  “Then… Why not help Bell?”

  The queen swallowed. “For the reasons I gave him… and others. I am afraid of Just, but there is more to it, as well. When he says that his goal is to reunite Trel… I get excited… I want to help Just. At least for now.”

  “Help him?”

  “Yes, child,” Tepa said. Her gaze was far away. “You grew up in Lock, but I grew up in Trel, a united Trel, where the gods were not mad, or hunted, or corrupt. We had a paradise, Null. A world without war and famine. I do not think such luxuries will return so long as Atherahn stands… so long as there are gods out there like Slayer, or Fate, or Rathervian. We have an opportunity here. A chance to rebuild something great. It is not something I can ignore, even if Just is not the same as he was.”

  “But if Just is so bad, how can you want to work with him? If this new paradise needs freedom from gods like Slayer, then how is Just any different?”

  “Because… if my choice is between Rathervian and Fate, or Just, then I will choose Just. At least until it makes better sense to do otherwise.” Rin Tepa chewed her bottom lip as her gaze stared into the empty fireplace. “And because, there is… because there is something else he has offered me.”

  Null’s stomach churned. “Vigil?”

  The queen didn’t look at her. “No, Null. Not Vigil. Not power. It is something else entirely. A kindness he has offered me… that I feel I must offer him in return.”

  “What could he possibly offer you?”

  “Redemption, child.”

  Null fell quiet. “Redemption for what?” she asked. “What have you done?”

  Still, Rin Tepa would not meet Null’s eyes. She stared at her hands. “Everything he said, Null. He was right about all of it.” There was a strange light in the queen’s gaze; an anger in the lines between her eyes and nose, that built with each word she spoke. “I grew complacent, Null. I let the Atheists roam unchecked. Let them kill my own blood, harass my own kin, and force my son to live his life in secret. And you. I let Tyvan make you believe that you were unloved, when in every way but blood you were like my own granddaughter. And my son… my son never got the words he wanted with his adopted daughter. Instead, he had to hear about your life from myself or Mycah.”

  Tears welled in Tepa’s eyes. Her voice was a desperate plea. “How could I do that to him, Null? How could I deny him that joy? How could I do that to you? For the false comfort of a pacified mob? For a few decades as ruler over a city as corrupt as its queen? I am a monster, Null. The kind of daughter fit for a Butcher’s legacy.”

  The queen’s tone chilled Null. She felt the urge to hug her, but remained glued to her chair. T
he statement was still hard to believe. The king had always been kind, but not fatherly. Null had been his servant, not his daughter. And yet… after all the years she had spent in near isolation, with no one to talk to but Mycah, it soothed her to think the king had been watching over her all that time. And knowing what she knew now, why not? The king was a mage himself. The reasons for him to have hated her no longer stood reason. Why couldn’t he have loved her as a daughter when they had so much in common?

  As she considered the prospect, one of the queen’s statements struck her as odd. “Queen, why couldn’t Erin have-”

  A loud thump sounded from the hallway; the drum of a heavy, padded object falling to the floor. And then it sounded again, followed by complete silence. Every day since their imprisonment, Null had listened to the guards outside the door, chatting, playing their card games, and more than once, yelling at one another over which courtesan was prettiest – a very unnerving and confusing conversation – but never had there been complete silence, not even at night.

  Null glanced at the queen; she too, was staring at the doorway. “Queen, something is wrong.”

  The queen answered in a whisper. “I heard it, Null. Get behind the chair.”

  Null did as the queen asked, then watched as Rin Tepa crossed to the far wall and pressed herself flat against the bricks; for any coming in, they would have to crane their neck around the corner in order to see her.

  Three knocks, each in quick succession, tapped quietly. “Queen?” a voice whispered, urgent but careful. “Null?”

  They both remained silent. The voice was too muffled to place it to anyone in particular. The door clicked as a key slid into the lock. Whoever was out there, was not one of their guards; the Trellish had not bothered to lock them in, and whoever was trying to get in had unknowingly locked the door. The shadow over the keyhole vanished, the doorknob shook, but did not open. Null heard a curse.

  “Give it to me,” the voice whispered.

  Another voice whispered an incoherent response. It sounded like a man’s voice, and the first, a woman’s.

  “No don’t-”

  There was a loud crack as the doorknob jolted, toppled, and then fell into the room. It bounced off the floor with the ring of metal, punctuated by more cursing.

  “Idiot.” With its latch broken, the door inched open a crack then stopped. Their assailant paused, leaving the door to rest on its hinges. She spoke again, and finally, Null knew the voice. “Watch the hall,” Beda ordered. “I’ll go in and see if they’re still here.”

  Commander Stills wore the garments of a Trellish priest, the same patterned robes Priest Twil had worn. In her arms, she carried a Hornish crossbow, drawn and loaded with a four-pointed bolt aimed into the room. She entered slowly, sliding the door open just far enough for a cursory glance before she crept into the room and closed the door behind her. Beneath the hood of her courtesan’s robes, Beda’s eyes found Null. Though covered by shadow, her face looked relieved.

  “Thank the gods,” Beda sighed. The crossbow’s aim drifted toward the floor as Beda relaxed her grip. “You’re okay.”

  “Beda?” Null asked. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to set you free,” Beda said. Her gaze wandered the room, honing in on the queen’s bedroom. “Where is Rin Tepa?”

  “I am here, commander.”

  Beda jolted, her hands fumbling with the crossbow as her gaze shot to Rin Tepa against the wall. The queen stood less than three paces away, still pressed flat to the wall and quite obvious from Null’s perspective, but somehow the commander hadn’t noticed her. Null suspected foul play, but if the queen had used magic to hide herself, there was no sign of it.

  “However,” the queen continued, “we have no need of you. We are staying here.”

  “Staying here?” Beda asked. “But you cannot.”

  The queen gave her a disapproving frown. “I can, commander, and I will.”

  “But the Hegemon is here.”

  “Good. Tell him to stand down and to await my instructions. Tell him that he is not to provoke the Legion, that I have bartered a peace, and that the Grand Legionnaire and I shall attend to him shortly to discuss how the Old Guard can help.”

  “Stand down?” Beda repeated. “It is too late for that, Queen. The Hegemon has given me thirty minutes to get you free before he assaults the palace.”

  “He’s going to attack the Legion?”

  Beda stared at the queen as if looking at a completely different person. Imagine her surprise if she’d seen her without the mask, Null thought.

  “Of course,” Beda said. “Did you expect us to forgive them after what they’ve done to Dekahn?”

  “But it’s…” The queen halted mid-sentence. Her glare found Null still crouched behind the chair. “Come, Null. We’re leaving.”

  Null nodded, hopping to her feet. “I’ll get-”

  “No, Null,” Tepa said, already ushering Beda to the door, “We leave now.”

  “But what of Just?”

  “He will forgive us if we hurry. He will not if the Old Guard slaughters his Legion.”

  Null followed, but what she exited into was a grisly sight. There were two dead men outside the door, and two living. She recognized the two dead as one pair of their many guardsmen. One was their fellow Lockishman, the man named Halls, a crossbow bolt in the same eye that had never met Null’s gaze. He’d been a man afraid of mages, and from the conversations she’d heard, of Atheists as well. But for him, none of that mattered now, and today, it was Null’s turn to avert her gaze.

  “You did not have to kill them, Beda,” the queen said.

  Similarly dressed as Beda, the two living men glanced at one another.

  Beda’s answer was an annoyed glare. “We can discuss this later,” she said. “Micks, Hen, on the back. Wait for reactions before you loose. Don’t be killing any of our own now.” Beda jerked her head toward their destination and then set off down the hall.

  “Where are we going?” the queen asked.

  “Erin’s chambers.”

  “To the-”

  The lock mechanism on Micks’ crossbow clicked, followed by a snapping rope. A third member of their guard stepped out of the bedchamber adjacent to the queen’s, back first so he could drag the door closed between the deck of cards he carried in one hand, the wineskin he carried in the other, and the piece of thin, cured meat between his teeth. The bolt hit him in the left thigh, kicking his legs out from under him, and knocking him to the floor. As he fell, his teeth clenched down on the jerky, making his painful scream closer to a muffled, seething groan than it was a shout. He hit the floor coughing, his fingers reaching frantically into his mouth as if he hoped to pull loose the piece of meat lodged in his gullet.

  With a hand on Null’s shoulder, Beda yanked her around the corner.

  “Keep moving,” Beda warned.

  “But he’s choking,” Null said.

  Beda shook her head. “He should be glad for it. Were it not muffling his cries, he’d be dead with his friends.”

  “But-”

  “Do as she says, Null.” The queen placed a consoling hand on the square of Null’s back. “If we wait, his sounds will call others, and the death toll will build. It is better this way.”

  Better for who? Null wondered. Still, she did not voice the thought, instead, allowing the queen to guide her to the king’s quarters. Beda led the way into the first room, through the king’s large oaken door and into his spacious greeting hall.

  The king’s rooms were supposed to be regal, but from what Null saw, they looked to have seen a hard few days. Scorch marks dotted the walls – likely from the wooden braziers and lamps that had failed with the Blessing’s magic. Several paintings were black, leaving only metal frames nailed into the stone. Many of the tapestries and window curtains were half gone, their ends charred and water stained as if the servants had had a difficult time extinguishing the fires, but not all the damage seemed to have been caused
by the fire. More than one chair was missing a leg, and even some arms, accompanied by several stains, most looking to be wine or some other drink – and not only on the furniture, but on the stone floor and magnificent rugs as well.

  The commander led them into the king’s bedroom; empty except for two dead women, both of whom were naked, one half-hidden beneath a portrait of Erin, the other at the base of the bed, curled over her gut. Null glanced at Beda, wondering how she ever could have thought the woman might become her friend.

  “Why are we here?” Null asked.

  For answer, Beda crossed to an open wardrobe, reached her hand inside, and pressed the back panel. The panel swung away, revealing a dark passage of dull brown stones. Unlike the rest of the palace, these stones were unpolished and untended, coated with a thick sheen of dust.

  The queen went first, lifting the hem of her dress to step up into the armoire; however, upon entering the passage, she let them drop, allowing the clean green silk of her dress to drag through the dust. It made little sense to her that the queen would wear such garments when she clearly valued mobility over style, but nonetheless, the quirk made Null smile at an unhappy moment. With four, perhaps five dead in their wake, it was good to have a distraction, even if it did seem a tasteless thing to have noticed under the circumstances.

  Beda followed the queen, then Null, then the two men, the latter of which closed the panel behind them, leaving them in darkness. Null heard the scratch of flint on metal then saw the lit torch in Beda’s hand. Where it had come from – whether beneath her robes or off the floor of the passage – Null hadn’t noticed; there weren’t any sconces on the walls, no grooves which could have been used for a shelf, just bare unadorned stone.

  They stood on a small landing, above a staircase so narrow it seemed to have been built as if to make the added width to the outer room’s dimensions as unnoticeable as possible. The tunnel was tight as they followed Beda’s torch down into the darkness. They descended more steps than Null would have expected, enough to place them below the main floor, far enough to place them alongside the palace cellars. Despite the dark, Beda seemed confident in where they were headed.

 

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