by Jack Conner
“So you say,” said Harry Lavaca, who, along with Cloire, had returned from the crowd of bettors.
“There are exceptions, of course. Anyway, to continue: I realized that I needed to stay close to the seat of power in order to ensure that it was not corrupted. For this to be done, I needed to be a free agent, separate from the Sangro Sankts. I had no desire to be their leader. Or a leader of any sort for that matter. My thirst for power had been quenched long ago. Yet I needed to guide the Dark Lord, to be his or her friend and conscience, and I could not do this as a kavasari, as few immortals trust my race—and for good reason. I detached myself from the kingdom for years, roamed the world, let the kavasari of the Sangro Sankts die off, one by one. Sometimes it took a little push. Nevertheless, the process took awhile. Eventually, after many centuries, I returned to the kingdom, which had spread considerably and had become far more wicked and brutal than it had previously been. All the original kavasari of the order I created were dead, replaced by others they had brought over themselves; I’d taught them how to do this with discretion.
“At this time, the kingdom was centralized in North Africa, and it stretched far to the east and south. The present Dark Lord was a merciless tyrant, had enslaved the karula, the abunka, and many other races he deemed inferior. He was a morbine, great and brutal.
“He had to go. I entered into his kingdom, became a subject like any other, worked my way up in the ranks until I was living there in the castle with him. I started looking for someone to replace him—the next Dark Lord. I found Roche Sarnova, who has since become my closest friend. I knew quickly that he would be the one.
“We exchanged blood, but I was careful to get him drunk first so he wouldn’t notice how much stronger mine was than his. Once I had chosen him as the successor, I easily accomplished the death of the current Dark Lord. Contests were held to determine his successor, for in his arrogance he had appointed none himself. Well, with his own strength and smarts, aided by my blood, Roche prevailed and became the new Dark Lord—a position he’s maintained until this day. The rest you can fill in for yourselves.”
“No,” said Ruegger. “I want to know how the kavasari came to be.”
“I don’t know. I did hear a rumor, or a myth, when I was first brought over, that my race was created by a sorcerer. Supposedly, the sorcerer’s family had been killed by vampires and he wanted to create a plague that would feed off of them as they fed off of humans. Whether or not that’s true, I can’t say. What other questions have you?”
“Why did you kill Ludwig?”
The question seemed to take Mauchlery by surprise. “I ... I,” he stammered, then cleared his throat. “I did not kill Ludwig.”
“An emissary from Roche Sarnova was seen in Liberty shortly before his death. Who else could it have been but you?”
Mauchlery nodded. “True. I was there. I’d heard rumors that Ludwig was being pressured into action of one sort or another. I knew that if he proceeded with the plan to conquer humanity, Roche and Liberty would go to war. In order to prevent this, I went to Ludwig and urged him not to bullied into doing something he didn’t want to do. I related to him my fears, and he agreed, but said there was no way out for him. I realized that I needed to put some pressure on him myself to realize the outcome I desired.”
Ruegger smiled. “You’re the one that sicced Jarvick on Danielle and I, aren’t you?”
At his side, he could feel Danielle stiffen.
The kavasari nodded. “I had no choice, not if I wanted to avoid a war with Liberty. However, I didn’t want either of you dead. The world’s a more interesting place with the odd flock in it. So I offered Jarvick, or rather the intermediary he worked through, a relatively low amount as reward for your deaths. I knew that whatever death-squad was hired would balk at that amount and guess they could get much more out of you alive. I’m sorry to have scared you like that, but I hoped you’d find your way out of it, somehow. You two are known as being resourceful. But the trick worked. Ludwig didn’t go to war.”
“No,” Ruegger replied coldly. “You scared him into inaction, which led to his murder. In effect, you did kill him.”
“No,” said Roche Sarnova, suddenly stepping forward to come to the defense of his friend. “Francois acted as he saw fit, and I agree with his actions concerning Ludwig and yourselves. He acted properly. And I forgive you, Francois, for keeping your secret all these years. You were right in that most would’ve wanted your death, if not mine as well. But why do you bring these soldiers with you? What’s this about assuming command?”
The Ambassador’s face looked grim. “Roche, when I took over De Soto’s faction, I did it for two reasons: one, to ensure you weren’t hurt; and two, to ensure that the kingdom didn’t tear itself apart. I never wanted to go through with the coup—in fact, that was my reason for heading it—but things have changed. You’re losing the war. The Libertarians are knocking at our front door.
“I’m sorry, Roche, I know how much the war means to you—and I know your other unstated reasons, as well—but I must do this, however much I dislike it. I must bring the Castle together again, both your Half of the Dark Council and Subaire’s, even if it means abandoning your dream of the Undead Jerusalem, and together both Halves may be able to defeat the Libertarians. It’s the only way. Afterwards, I’ll reinstate you as king and throw myself at your mercy. For now, you will be shown to your quarters.”
“I will not,” Sarnova said, and motioned to the score of soldiers hovering about him. “Not unless you intend to destroy my elite guards.”
“That will not be necessary,” the Ambassador said.
“What do you mean?”
As if on cue, the score of Castle Guards surrounding Sarnova spun from facing Mauchlery to face the Dark Lord instead. Their weapons were aimed and ready. Sarnova stared at them in disbelief, and Ruegger saw that he was fast losing his composure.
“Will you surrender?” Mauchlery asked.
“But how?” asked Sarnova. “They know you’re a kavasari. Why do they follow you?”
“Because they know me, Roche, some of them for hundreds of years. They know that I act in the best interests of all concerned.”
“You doubt that I do?”
“No, my friend, but your passions cloud your judgment. Your passion is something I admire, even envy, but now it’s doing your kingdom an injustice, and if you were in my shoes you’d see what I see, and would know what must be done. Roche, as my friend, will you surrender?”
Gathering himself to his full and regal height, Roche lifted his chin. “For you, Francois. I’ve always said that what’s mine is yours. I’d never meant that to carry as far as my kingdom, but circumstances change.”
“Thank you, Roche. I only hope you’ll come to forgive me in time. Tomorrow night at nine, I will give a speech from the Central Towe r.”
“It’s where I gave the call to arms.”
“And it’s where I will tell all in the Castle that the war is over. Someday, perhaps soon, Subaire and her Half will realize the wisdom of announcing ourselves to the human populace. Even I, who have been so set against that very thing, have been persuaded by your sincerity. You do not wish to enslave humans; you wish to make peace with them. Once the Council’s united, I will back you fully in your plans. Provided I’m still at your side, that is. As I’ve said, that will be up to you. For now, you will be escorted to your rooms and left in peace.”
“You mean ... I’ll be alone in my room.”
With his most expressionless face, Francois nodded. “I would have it no other way.”
Ruegger turned to share a glance with Danielle and saw her nodding, just slightly. What Francois had just done was to give Sarnova the option to escape, if he so chose, through the corpse-chute.
With a curt nod, the Dark Lord said, “Then I will see you at nine tomorrow.”
“If you wish, my friend.”
Roche Sarnova turned on his heel and left, escorted by his guards.
/> * * *
When he was gone, Ruegger spun to Mauchlery. “Don’t you dare leave. There’s still some things you must answer for. You’re the one that began the Scouring, aren’t you?”
Surprise spread across Francois’s face. “How did you know?”
“Amelia and Vistrot—they were supposedly the main perpetrators—but you were the one that turned Amelia. Why?”
“One of the Sangro Sankts had died, and I needed a replacement I could trust.”
“You said you didn’t want the Sangro Sankts to know who you were,” said Danielle.
“I realized that I needed to know what was going on amongst them; I’d been removed from the order for so long, it felt like ... I don’t know, as if it hadn’t really been me that had founded it. Does that make sense?”
“You wanted a spy.”
“Mostly I just wanted to bring over a kavasari myself. One that shared my principles, my values. In those days, Amelia and Ruegger were quite well-known ... much as you and Ruegger are now. I liked her style, the workings of her mind—her politics, if you will. So I changed her. When Ruegger interrupted the process, I thought I should kill him, but knew that to do so would wreck Amelia’s psyche, which would be fragile enough, being so rudely torn out of her previous existence. I let Ruegger live ... and have regretted it ever since.”
Ruegger clenched his jaws. His mind worked at a fevered pace. A large part of him wanted to lash out, to let his anger overcome him, but the stronger part held him back. He felt Danielle’s hand on one arm, and it calmed him. At the same time, he still held both blades, and was quite prepared to put them into use.
At last he found his voice. “How is she? Amelia, I mean?”
“She’s well. Although she’s not like she used to be, when she was with you. I doubt you two would have as much ... well, common ground, I guess. For a long time she wanted to kill herself over her separation from you, and when she saw the effect her supposed death had upon you ... well, she became a creature of hatred, like yourself—but unlike you her hatred was very focused: on me. She wanted to return to you, but I couldn’t allow that. Against her will, I made her stay by my side. It took many years, but eventually she … warmed up to me.”
“I don’t want to hear about that.”
“It’s probably best that you shouldn’t. When she was ready, she joined the Sangro Sankts, and became my spy. By this time, the opening I’d wanted her to fill had already been occupied, but I took care of that problem, and when she petitioned them to become a member they accepted her. That’s where she’s been all these years.”
“And the Scouring?” asked Kharker, finally becoming involved. “Why was that necessary?”
“Several reasons. One, when I learned of the changes Roche had planned for immortal-mortal relations, I wanted only the most moral shades around to enter the new age. I knew that we couldn’t allow humanity to see us all as being evil. If that had happened, Roche’s Jerusalem would have been lost before it ever had a chance; the humans would want no part of us. Most likely, they’d want us wiped off the face of the earth, and as well they should. The worst case scenario would be if our evil corrupted them. I couldn’t allow that. That’s why I enlisted Amelia to help purify our races: to destroy the strongholds of evil, the mob bosses, the tyrants.”
“And religious leaders?”
“They spread superstition and untruth, holding our people back and presenting a poor—and frightening—face to humanity. Also, different religions lived under the constant threat of war between each other—for example, the abunka and the karula. They could live peaceably together, but their own pettiness and narrow-mindedness makes this impossible. I thought to eliminate their leaders, lead them into the inevitable war, and get it over with. I knew that the survivors would be the renegades of both races, those that had seen through the lies. The open-minded would survive, and these were the shades that humanity needed to see.”
“Why did you hire Junger and Jagoda?”
Mauchlery rolled a shoulder, suggesting that it had been a dumb question. “They were here. Building their Tree. I knew them to be intelligent and efficient killers, so I contracted them to do me this favor. Later I learned just how violent they were, and I used other means to carry out the Scouring. I had no idea that their names would latch onto Roche and put him in such danger. I didn’t think he had anything to be in danger from, except Subaire and her Half. I didn’t anticipate Ludwig’s death. Why they murdered him, I don’t know. My focus was on preventing Roche from getting killed and in assisting Amelia with the Scouring. Now, however, it looks as if the Scouring was a pointless effort, doesn’t it? The war is over, and Roche’s Jerusalem will be a long time in coming, if it ever gets here at all.”
“Then why not go on with the war?” Ruegger said.
“Because we’d lose. Now, if we surrender, we can rebuild our power base and someday, when both humans and shades are ready, Roche and I, if I’m still around ... but that’s for the future. As for now, if you don’t have any more questions, I’ve got a long night and day ahead of me.”
Kharker grunted. “I’m sure you do.”
Mauchlery eyed the Hunter for a moment; it was one of the few moments when Ruegger had a chance to see past the Ambassador’s icy exterior. What he saw was weariness, pain and determination. To his surprise, Ruegger found that he actually halfway liked the man, despite everything he’d done.
As it happened, Cloire had one last question: “What happened to Vistrot?”
Francois nodded, as if this was a good question. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I sent Amelia to him so that she could use his contacts and power to facilitate the Scouring. We saw him as a necessary evil, one to be dealt with later. When he disappeared, I sent Amelia a message asking about him, and her reply was something along the lines of: It’s been taken care of. I don’t know what that means, or if he’s even still alive.”
“But Amelia’s taken over his empire?”
“She doesn’t crave power, but she’ll hold onto the position until the war is over, until things are running smooth once more. After that ... we’ll see.” He cleared his throat. “I hope to see you all at nine tomorrow.”
With that, he left the room, guards in tow.
For a long time, all in the great chamber were silent: the bettors, the spectators, the Council-members, everyone.
Then, at last, Harry glanced around at the nearby circle and said, “Anybody want to join me for a drink?”
* * *
It took nearly a day for the Libertarians to march to the Castle. Irritably, Raulf D’Aguila noted that the humans (nearly a hundred of them) whom Maleasoel had brought along were the main cause for the delay. Without them, the immortals (now nearly three hundred strong, with the reinforcements Malie had obtained from the smaller Libertarian outposts in Europe: a vast number of shades, to say the least) would have tunneled through the ground much more swiftly. Of course, the humans were necessary, Raulf knew. The shades needed to feed. Also, the humans were to be used as fodder, as a buffer zone between the immortals of Liberty and the immortals of the Castle when the battle commenced.
Despite the annoying drag of the mortals, the Libertarians finally reached their goal. Raulf dispatched three soldiers to scout the area above ground and when they reported back they said there was no sign of an ambush, which was as he’d expected. If a surprise attack came, it would likely come from within the mountain, not outside it.
He cut his way through the troops and found Malie surrounded by her own elite guards and lackeys—a group that Raulf had never liked and which seemed to grow more pompous and arrogant by the day.
“The way’s clear,” he told her.
“Then let’s be at it. We don’t need to be out in the open for long.”
He hesitated. “You sure about this, Malie? I don’t trust this one bit, and I know you must have reservations, too.”
“I do, but we’ve come too far to go back now. Besides, we made a
deal, and I believe they’ll honor it as long as it’s in their best interests to do so. We’ll make sure it is.”
“Very well.”
He gave the command for the Libertarians and the human slaves to emerge from the ground. The fresh mountain air stroked his face with cool, refreshing gusts, and he allowed himself a moment to bask in the scenery of soaring, snow-capped mountains all around. Then his gaze fell on the boulder that led into the mountain, and his eyes hardened.
“You,” he said, gesturing to a nearby shade, the most powerful telekinetic in the army—an ability so greatly admired that he’d been made an honorary Major. “Lift the rock.”
The Major nodded. The great boulder rose into the air, kicking up an even greater cloud of dust and rocks as it went, and landed in a nearby clump of bushes—a sorry lot that looked as if they had been used as this sort of cushion for years and were none too happy about it.
When the dust cloud cleared, Raulf ordered fifty of the humans into the tunnel. The other fifty would bring up the rear.
Fodder.
Raulf grimaced. Not that he cared one way or another about the mortals, but if they were to be killed he’d just assume do the honors himself. That was war for you.
The fifty mortals disappeared into the hole.
After them, individual Libertarian platoons began filtering into it, all in a prearranged tactical order, with Malie buried safely in the center, thank you very much. Raulf, on the other hand, being the troop leader, entered the tunnel with the second platoon (the first was really no more than fodder, either, being the poor soldiers they were, and therefore not much better than humans, as far as the mission was concerned).
As soon as Raulf entered, the line halted, and he sent his Major up to move the sliding circular door that was the barrier of the Sabo. Once this was accomplished, the Major returned to Raulf’s side and the procession continued.