by O. J. Lowe
Wilsin glanced around the creatures surrounding them. Mutilation here would probably be what others called horticulture.
“Can with subjects like these anyway. You know, they’d never had a leader until I came along. Just wallowed in the muck for aeons. Never got up, never got out. Never dreamed. Then I found them, I embraced them all and they took me to their hearts. For centuries, it felt like, I lived among them. That place changed me.”
Wilsin blinked. That place…
“I mean, humans would never put up with how I rule. But you know what I found? Humanity is massively overrated. You people disgust me now I’ve moved on. You want so much and you’re willing to give so little in exchange. Everything for nothing, entitled and spoiled. You want to change the world, but you don’t want to make the effort.”
“Are you having a little moment here?” Wilsin asked, finally interrupting. He’d heard enough. He didn’t like the way this thing was questioning what he’d ever done for the world. He’d kept it safe. He’d tried to improve things. Wasn’t that all anyone could have asked of him? Not everyone went to work for Unisco, he’d done it and those who hadn’t couldn’t criticise him for it. He knew duty and he knew that his part had been played. “Because if you are, we can come back later with our friends. Where are they, by the way? Some of your people walked off with them earlier and we really need them back.”
“Your Grace,” Reeves added. Wilsin did his best to avoid rolling his eyes at the subservience.
“One of you knows respect at least,” the green king said. He sounded amused, Wilsin couldn’t care whether he was or not. “But we have your friends. They’re up there.” He jerked his head towards the rock. “They’re fine. For now, anyway. A means to a purpose, I think you’ll find.”
“And what purpose is that,” Wilsin said, his hands tightening around his weapon. He was amazed he hadn’t lifted it and fired yet, something that the green king also wasn’t apparently unaware of by the laughter in his voice.
“You might have noticed I’ve let you keep your weapons. If I had a shred of doubt that they would be able to harm me, do you think I would have done that? You’ve already seen my people in combat. An army of Vedo might be able to exterminate them…” His voice tailed off, grew menacing. “An army of Vedo did do their best to exterminate them. But their best was not good enough. And I believe that you’re fresh out of Vedo to cleanse us.”
“There are more of us than you think,” Reeves said smoothly. “Be assured of that. The Kjarn is within us all and there are always those who will be able to rise when they hear it. The Kjarn is eternal.”
“The Kjarn is what it always has been. A force with which mortals have played with over which they claim their lack of control is down to an inability to dominate. Let me tell you this, Benjamin Reeves. The Cavanda knew different. At least they did back then, whether they still believe or not is another matter entirely. They of the old ways knew the truth, that control comes through dominion, that dominion comes through strength and strength comes to those that earn it.”
He likes a speech, doesn’t he? Wilsin thought. The green king had some issues, unfortunately he had some knowledge and that made him a dangerous foe. He knew stuff about Reeves and the Kjarn and whatever the hells the Cavanda were. He tried to shoot his partner a glance, see if his face betrayed his thoughts, though he doubted it. Reeves had a face perfect for cards, he wouldn’t show anything he didn’t have to. They’d played some nights on the boat, Wilsin had always thought himself a decent enough Ruin player and he’d lost too many credits to the Vedo.
Never play a game with someone who can sense your emotions. It gives them too much of an advantage. Reeves had claimed he wasn’t doing it, Wilsin hadn’t believed him. More than that, he got the feeling Reeves knew he didn’t believe him by the way further denials had come.
“Okay, you hate society, you don’t like humans, you don’t rate the Kjarn,” Wilsin eventually said. “What do you want? You were about to tell us before you decided to try and stick your sense of superiority down our throats, which by the way I’m not swallowing so you might as well put it away.”
Reeves snorted with laughter. Wilsin didn’t think it’d been that funny, but apparently his expressionless face had its limits. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe he just liked euphemisms.
“Your friends we took for a purpose,” the green king repeated. “I needed them. I knew you’d come. After all, I couldn’t turn down the chance for an audience with one of my killers now, could I? Or at least one of the ones who attempted it.”
“You wanted them as bait? For me?” He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He knew he wasn’t impressed. Still, if he had killed him, or at least tried to, then it was probably justified.
“Bait. Revenge. Those words meant more when I was human. Maybe now I just want you to take back a message.”
“Sorry, buddy. Not a courier.” He was deliberately ignoring the self-proclaimed position the king had taken, he could feel Reeves’ wince from where he stood. He didn’t care. “Nor a messenger nor an envoy. You want to deliver a message, you take it yourself.”
“David Wilsin,” the green king said, voice laced with menace. “I only need one of you to take that message back. Not both. That you should choose to make yourself inconvenient when this is the case makes me wonder if you desire to live when I’m offering you clemency.”
“If you’re feeling that level of generosity, how about you tell me your name, so I know which of the sorry sacks of shit you really are, rather than hiding behind claims of supremacy and masks.”
The green king gestured to his face, looked almost insulted at the suggestion. “Mask? You mistake me for what I am not, David. You still assume me to be man when I have become so much more. When my people move, I see through them. When they kill, I feel the blood on their limbs. When they die, I feel their pain. I’m not a man anymore, hells I may well be a Divine. And where better to proclaim that than at the foot of Cradle Rock. This place is synonymous with it. They know what it meant to the old ones, to the Divines that came before, and they know what it’ll mean again. They’ll know I mean business.”
“What’s your message?” Reeves asked. “Your Grace, pardon my associate but his mouth is free and wild. He respects not your position, but I sense your power.”
“And how does my power make you feel, little Vedo?” Wilsin heard the condescension in the voice, blaster rifle starting to tremble in his grasp. He found himself clutching it so tightly, he thought it might break.
Just give me an excuse to put a flurry straight through your face!
Even if it wouldn’t do any good, it was still something he’d enjoy, baiting this guy further. He’d never had a problem with patience before, now he just wanted to blast a few charge packs into him.
He’d tried to kill him and failed, or he’d been involved in a similar attempt. He didn’t know, nothing beyond the vague familiarity in the carved face. Normally he was decent with recognition but seeing a face made of flesh and one made of wood were two entirely different things, especially when it came to facial recollection.
“Honestly?” Reeves asked. “You don’t sit right with me. You worry me. I can feel the power radiating off you and it’s like standing too close to something that’s about to explode.”
“Interesting choice of language. I’ve never felt better in all my centuries.”
“The calm often does feel good before the storm hits,” Reeves said. “You terrify me. I’d be anywhere else right now if I could. But you claim to be a king and I will show you that respect that I’d hope you’d show to me if our positions were to be reversed.”
“Respect is earned, not given freely. I respect what you have learned in your studies as a Vedo, I can’t imagine it is a path that was easily walked. The Vedo are all but extinct, the Cavanda silently rule the kingdoms now, worming their way into places of power. The Senate, the ICCC, Unisco, the pillars are falling, you know, you just haven’t heard the c
rash yet!”
What?! That was the first Wilsin was hearing about that and by the look on his face, the same was true of Reeves.
“To be a Vedo now is a very different game as to what it was before they fell. I believe there are those who think the Vedo of old fell because they got complacent. I think the reverse is true, that the kingdoms got complacent that they would always be there in secret. The Kjarn was in balance and everything was in harmony. Now though, the Cavanda outnumber you ten to one and more, you are scattered, lost, hopeless, you align yourselves with men like Agent Wilsin and Agent King in hopes of gaining some succour.”
The green king shook his head. “Don’t assume that I despise Agent Wilsin there.” A thorned green finger came up, levelled at him. “I do have tremendous respect for what he and his partner did the night when the rains came down. I was just a man then, but I nearly washed the entire tournament away.”
Something started to stir in the darkest recesses of Wilsin’s memory, long forgotten but crawling back to the fore. That night still haunted him.
“Anyone who rises to do what he has done as an agent of Unisco is worthy of respect, if not admiration. To be a killer is not a noble thing, it is to weaken and destabilise not only yourself but the very fabric of a modern society. In a perfect world, Unisco wouldn’t exist.”
“In a perfect world, we wouldn’t need to,” Wilsin said. He believed it as well. “We do what we have to. Because nobody else will.”
“Nobody else was asked. Instead, the first sign of any sort of trouble, the Senate turns to their own secret police to do it. Their killers and their blackmailers and their thugs. That’s what most of you are, you know. You turn everything you touch rotten.”
“What’s the damn message,” Wilsin said. “I don’t have all day.” He was tired, his body ached, and he was slick with his own sweat, salt stinging his eyes. “Are you going to give it over are just talk us to death?”
“Say my name.”
“What?!” Wilsin almost spat the word out. “What did you just say?”
“You want the message, you say my name. Acknowledge what you and Nicholas Roper did without hesitation and I’ll let the two of you go. Fail to answer and you die. I won’t take any pleasure in killing you… Huh, I never knew that lying was so easy to me now. With people like these…” the king waved an arm out towards the surrounding hoard. Wilsin hadn’t forgotten that they were there. “… One never needs to lie or cheat or steal because they’ll give if asked. Which society contains the real monsters? Now Agent Wilsin, I command you one more time to say my name!”
Anger had laced the voice, Wilsin smiled, took a step forward and held his arms wide open, pushed his chest out. “You want to kill me? Kill me. I don’t know who you are, I won’t say your name now stop wasting…”
He didn’t see the tendril move, never saw it coming, the first sign he got was the pain in his chest. The weapon was no longer in his hands, he heard it thump to the ground. Looking down, he saw the length of green bursting into his vest, an immense look of satisfaction on the king’s face. Suddenly he couldn’t speak anymore, lungs on fire. His legs couldn’t hold him, and they gave, knees kissed the earth and then his chest met it in embrace. The last thing he heard as the world went dark was the laughter of the green king, his last thought left the man’s name emblazoned in his slipping mind.
Oh!
Ben Reeves saw Wilsin go down, his first instinct was to run to him, yet he did not for he knew the chances of Wilsin surviving a blow like that were minimal. He’d seen the power of tendrils like that the previous night, the way they’d torn through flesh and bone, ripped it asunder without pause. That their king might be weaker didn’t cross his mind. The world didn’t work like that, not the world he knew nor the one he thought he knew. The strong rose to lead, to impose their will on those below. That was the first rule of life. The weak didn’t necessarily lack the will to lead, but rather the qualities. Something would be missing from them, something forever dooming them to follow.
Maybe that was wrong. Maybe the ones who ended up leading were the ones who could shout the loudest, could make themselves heard. That itself was a quality admittedly, albeit one only of value if the speaker had something to say worth listening to.
Too often, the ones who spoke the loudest had the least to say, simply desiring to hear their own voices.
He wondered what sort of leader the green king was. What sort of man he’d been before all this. He withdrew that tendril from Wilsin’s chest, crimson staining the hole that had been torn in the material, one ragged hole gaping to the crowd. Around them, the rustlers as Wilsin had called them, were going crazy, hissing and squealing through mouthless faces, a sound leaving the hairs on his arms standing up.
He chose not to respond, let his kjarnblade hang from his belt. Getting into a fight wouldn’t solve anything. Since Master Baxter had revealed his Vedo to the kingdoms in as public a manner as possible, people had been running with a false sense of knowledge about their capabilities. They believed all manner of things of the Vedo and the Master had insisted on letting them do it. The more they believed, the more their legend would grow. If rumours abounded there were Vedo out there who could grow ten feet tall and lift buildings with the power of their minds, then so be it. That sort of publicity could only be a boon. Those with talent would want to learn how to use it and although the truth might not be as glamorous as the myth, discipline could be instilled within them and they be turned into something greater than the sum of its parts.
More than that, the myth would be a deterrent. Why mess with those that could destroy you on a whim?
“Your Grace,” he said. “There was no need for that.” Voice calm, level and controlled. Just the way Master Baxter had always told them to if ever they encountered a powerful being with a desire for respect. Reeves could remember that session, even now. The Master had stood at the front of the chamber and solemnly informed them ‘it’ll happen more than you think’. Reeves hadn’t entirely believed him, but he’d still listened. None of them had been there to not listen. All of them had heard what he had to say, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d had to suspend their disbelief.
“I’ll decide what’s necessary and what isn’t,” the green king said. “That man was a killer and a thug.”
“He was also my friend!” Reeves said loudly. “He was friendly to me and he didn’t have to be.”
“You associate with dogs, you catch fleas, Benjamin Reeves. The kingdoms are a better place without men like David Wilsin.”
“You had a message for us. Give it to me and I’ll take my friends and begone, with your leave,” he said. He couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice. Killing Wilsin just like that rankled. No rhyme or reason, just a tantrum. Respect be damned, he’d made his choice. Get out of here and he’d see the entire place burned.
“Your kingdoms are involved in a civil war,” the green king said. “I know this. Mistress Coppinger takes on your leaders and she’s winning not just the battles but the hearts and minds of the people one by one.”
“Not my leaders,” Reeves said. “There’s only one man that I answer to.”
“You can tell Ruud Baxter as well, in fact I assure you it’ll probably be better if you do. The sooner the Vedo accept defeat in all of this, the rest of the kingdoms will as well. We may let you live, though we can’t guarantee it. Spellcasters are always to be a cherished asset. We don’t have access to the Kjarn for all the fancy tricks you people can do. We’d hate to have to wipe you out.”
“Maybe we’d feel the same way,” Reeves said. “The way of the Vedo has never been the way of violence…”
“And yet you’ll perpetuate it if you have to. That’s the way of people like you. That’s why the Mistress hated you. All that power and you sat on it, chose to let things swing into a spiralling descent…”
“I was never part of that old order!” Reeves shouted. “I heard about it and we’re doing things differently. W
e’re trying to be better. Master Baxter has us doing our part against Coppinger.”
“And yet, you’re here in Vazara, two hundred miles from the nearest Coppinger in the kingdom. A strange place to be doing your part.”
“We all have our places to be. The message, your highness!” Getting a straight answer out of him was like herding wildcats, they each wanted to go their own way and liable to bite and scratch when denied. If he was connected to each of the rustlers via a mind link, no wonder. Hundreds of them were in the clearing alone, it had to be distracting.
“We have Vazara,” the green king said. “We’re going to take it all, just a case of when we do it, not if. The Mistress is fighting you and not until there’s a winner will we make our move.”
Reeves’ mind raced with the possibilities. That could mean a few things. One, that the green king’s position wasn’t as solid as he insisted, and he couldn’t risk a fight he wasn’t sure of winning. Two, he wasn’t willing to jump into the ongoing civil war. The last thing he’d want to do is unite two opposing factions against a common threat. Three, if he was telling him his plan to be relayed back, then he had to be convinced that he had a good chance of victory. Too many opposing points of view, not enough time to pick out the right one.
“You will not be able to stop us. You will have torn each other to shreds, those shreds will become swept up and a part of our new world.”
“You said you knew Coppinger,” Reeves said. He was curious now, considering all the information that the green king had spilled already. “Why not align with her now then?”
“She is beneath me. She clutches for immortality, but she is not there yet, her power is growing but slowly. She will try for the bloods of those born to the Divines but that is a journey harder than she yet realises. Once I worked for her and I doubt that should she see past my identity, she would see us as equals, nor share what she desires.” The green king puffed up his chest. “More than that, neither would we. It is not in our nature. Why share when we can take it all.”