His Dark Empire (Tears of Blood)

by Forbes, M. R.

  He motioned for them to stand to the side of the door, and then the rebels took up position next to it.

  "Open it," he said.

  Silas jerked the door open. The two horsemen were sitting right in front of it, trying to light a torch. Two crossbow bolts knocked them from their horses.

  "Name's Atticus," the leader said. He was the oldest and tallest. "These are my brothers, Elrad and Orm. Where are you headed?"

  "I need to get to the palace."

  Atticus smiled. "You want to go to the palace? You know it's east of here, not north?"

  "From the lake," Silas said.

  Atticus bobbed his head up and down. "Take the horses. We have a man at the wharf, his name is Deshon. He helps us move stuff in and out. He can put you right up to the cliffs behind the palace without being seen, but you'll have to climb up from there. He says he's done it once, just for fun, but I think he's full of dung. Anyways, just tell him Attie sent you."

  "How will I find him?" Silas asked.

  "Ah, don't worry," Atticus said with a laugh. "Deshon stands out."

  "We'll try to keep them off your back," Orm said, while reloading his crossbow.

  "Come on," Silas said. He and Eryn went back out into the street. Silas bent down over one of the soldiers and unbuckled his sword belt, slipping it around his waist and sliding his sword into the scabbard. "Leave the crossbow," he instructed Eryn as they mounted the horses. "It'll draw too much attention."

  The brothers followed them out, heading in the other direction. Atticus began shouting.

  "Are you tired of the oppression of his rule? Are you sick of giving up your hard earned coin for taxes on everything from bread to clothes? Have your mother, father, brother, or sister been taken to the ore mines, or killed for little more than looking at a soldier the wrong way? Come out into the streets. Do not be afraid. Stand up to him, as we're standing up to him..."

  His voice faded into the background as they raced north.

  The wharf was the busiest part of the city, and also the biggest. It stretched from the east wall all the way to the city center, where part of the hill the palace rested on had been excavated to allow for more dock space. Ships could sail from the Small Sea down the river to Elling Lake, and find port at the city to unload or load their trade goods, to bring back the other direction. The Small Sea connected to the Great Sea, and while only the adventurous tried to cross the Great Sea to the unknown lands, the cogs could hold the shoreline to the east and then south to many of the Empire's other coastal provinces.

  Activity at the wharf didn't seem slowed by the hanging, or the Overlord's pursuit of them. Cargo was being loaded and unloaded from large, three-masted, wooden ships, while smaller boats handled nets of fish or clams. All around them merchants made deals for the offloaded cargo, or bargained to have their trade goods sent to this place or that, while prostitutes tried to entice the sailors and sailors headed into and out of brothels, taverns, and shops. It was busy enough that once they had dismounted and sent the horses on their way, they were able to blend into the crowd, and sneak around the soldiers patrolling the area.

  "How do we find Deshon?" Eryn asked.

  "Atticus said he stands out," Silas said.

  They walked along the wharf, to the east in the direction of the palace, searching for a sign of Deshon with one eye, and watching for soldiers with the other. Whenever a retinue would walk past, they would duck off to the side and put their heads down, and try not to be seen.

  "There," Eryn said, pointing.

  Silas followed her finger to a sleek looking wooden ship with three tall masts. A metal plaque was affixed to the rear. The Flying Deshon.

  "That does stand out," Silas said. They headed over to it, hitting the dock at a fast walk.

  "Where do you think you're going?"

  The voice came from behind them. They turned around, coming face to face with a muscular, dark-skinned man with short black hair and a beard with colored beads hanging from it. His eyes regarded them cautiously, while his hands toyed with a large dagger.

  "What business is it of yours?" Silas asked.

  The man smiled. "I know you," he said. "The soldiers are looking for you. There's a nice reward for your capture. Dead, or alive. Or... I could just shout."

  "You won't," Silas said.

  "No?"

  "Attie sent us."

  "Did he?" The man walked toward them, still brandishing the knife.

  Silas could feel Eryn tensing next to him, so he put his hand out to hold her at bay.

  "How did you know it was me?" Deshon asked, once he was close enough to talk quietly.

  "The center mast," Silas said. "The flags are the same colors as the beads in your beard."

  Deshon laughed. "You are a clever one. No wonder the Overlord is so desperate to get his hands on you. What do you need from me?"

  "I need you to bring us to the palace."

  "Both of you?" he asked, looking at Eryn. "Your boy can't be more than thirteen. A little young for suicide, eh?"

  "Fourteen," Eryn said, "and a girl."

  Deshon laughed and shook his head. "If Atticus sent you to me, who am I to judge. Follow me." He turned and started walking back up the dock.

  "Where are we going?" Eryn asked.

  "We can't take the Flying Deshon right under the palace cliffs, boy," he said. "We need something a little smaller."

  They walked down the wharf, to a dock lined with small fishing boats. Deshon approached a skinny, bare-chested man standing in one of the boats, leaning over a net.

  "Polson," Deshon said. "I need to borrow your boat, for my friends. Attie sent them."

  The man, Polson, scowled. "This isn't a good time, Desh."

  Deshon laughed. "This here's Silas Morningstar. You know, the fugitive the Overlord is so eager to disembowel? He needs a lift to the palace, so he can do the Overlord first."

  Polson looked them both over, and climbed out of his boat. He put his face right up to Silas', and put his hand on his shoulder.

  "Soldiers took my sister to the mines. They said it was because she was stealing, but I know it wasn't. One of the tax collectors took a liking to her, and when she refused he accused her. The Overlord wouldn't even hear her case." His eyes started tearing. "There's a lot of us, we're sick of his rule, and the way the Overlord strong arms us common folk. I don't know if killing him will change anything, or even if it will make it worse, but somebody needs to pay. I hope you do it painful."

  Silas looked him in the eye, seeing the pain at its depths.

  Murderer.

  "I'll do what I can," he said.

  Deshon climbed into the boat, Eryn and Silas right behind. He picked up the oars and placed them over the sides, and started rowing with a surprising strength. Polson stood on the dock, watching them go. Behind him, Silas could see soldiers running through the streets, headed south.

  He wondered what kind of trouble Atticus was causing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Eryn

  Eryn tried to remember not to look down, as she followed Silas up the rock face of the cliffs behind the palace.

  Deshon had been true to Atticus' word, somehow maneuvering through the currents of the lake to drop them off beneath the cliffs without smashing them against the rocks. He had also managed to stay so tight to the shoreline that the lookouts posted along the northern wall of the palace had yet to see them coming.

  It wasn't the first time Eryn was thankful for the forge, and the strength it had put in her arms. The months of swordplay with Silas hadn't hurt either, preparing her muscles for extended use. Even so, the one hundred foot climb was grueling, her body aching with every movement, and her mind telling her to panic whenever she accidentally thought of what would happen if she slipped.

  She cast more than one silent prayer to Amman that they would reach the top of the cliff, where there was a small ledge before the wall of the palace.

  "How are you doing?" Silas asked, looking down at
her. He had asked every few feet, and she was jealous that he seemed to be handling the climb with such ease.

  "Just keep going," she replied. Maybe it was his eagerness to confront the Overlord at last that was keeping him going?

  They moved slowly, carefully picking out the face of the ledge with the best hand and footholds. Twice, they had to leap horizontally to get to the next climbable segment. Twice, Eryn had been terrified while her body was airborne, only to feel a rush and a sense of excitement when she found a hold.

  The sun had been swallowed by the horizon by the time they finished the climb, coming to rest with their backs to the palace wall while they caught their breath and eased tired muscles.

  "What now?" Eryn asked. She looked both ways along the wall, and all she saw was smooth stone.

  "There should be a small drain under the northeast tower," he said. "At least, Deshon said there was."

  "I'm ready," Eryn said.

  They ran, pressed tight against the wall, until they reached the curve of the tower. The drain was hard to see; slightly submerged below the ground level, a trickle of water flowing through a metal gate and down the side of the cliff. Even though they were both lean, it was going to be a tight fit.

  "It's going to make a lot of noise to cut through this," Silas said. "Do you think you can use your Curse on it?"

  Eryn looked at it. It wasn't much different than a stuck door. She closed her eyes and concentrated on relaxing her breathing. Her practice had paid off, and she felt the tingle between her ears within moments. It rolled down her body, and she held out her hand and felt it flow to her fingers.

  "Opire," she said, turning her palm up and closing her hand, as though she was pulling the gate to her.

  There was a soft clatter as it came free of the stone around it, and flew out over the cliff. They were high enough up that they could barely hear the splash when it hit the water.

  "Thank you," Silas said. He got down on his hands and knees, and crawled through the drain like a worm. Eryn wiped her eye, and followed behind him.

  They passed under eight feet of solid stone, and came out into the bottom of the northeast tower, where some of the water was flowing out of a clay pipe that rose up the wall. There was about three feet of space above them, the center capped by a wooden hatch. A tiny amount of light filtered in from the other side, where the water flow continued out to the rest of the palace.

  "What is this for?" Eryn whispered.

  "Waste," Silas said. "These clay pipes are run throughout the palace, dropping down into channels dug into the earth. The channels carry all of the water and waste out through here."

  Silas pushed on the hatch, finding it unlocked. He carefully flipped it open, and stood up.

  The inside of the tower was lit with oil lamps. The space they were in was empty. To the side were stairs that wound around the sides of the tower. Looking up, Silas could see the stone of the floor above them. He leaned down and helped Eryn up, and then closed the hatch.

  "The hatch is here so they can clean off the gate," he said. "It's bound to get clogged from time to time."

  Eryn was just glad it hadn't been clogged for them. The front of her clothes were soaking wet, and she didn't want to think of what they were soaked with.

  Silas drew his sword, and they climbed the stairs, reaching the first floor and finding it unoccupied. The door from the tower to the inner palace grounds waited in front of them.

  "We'll try to be quiet, but be ready, just in case."

  The tower door wasn't locked either. Silas pulled it open as slowly as he could, and they looked outside.

  Two guards were walking a worn path from east to west, between the walls and the rest of the grounds. Eryn could see stables to their left, and a training field to their right, with straw and wood dummies and bales of hay with targets painted on them. She could also hear the murmur of the crowds that were gathered in the front courtyard, being held captive by the Overlord.

  They ducked their heads back inside, and pushed the door closed, so the guards wouldn't see them.

  "How are we going to get past them?" Eryn asked.

  Silas held up his hand. "Counting."

  They stood silently for some time before Silas pushed the door open just enough to squeeze past, and started walking down the steps. Eryn followed behind. The guards were halfway across the grass, facing the other direction. How had he done that?

  They reached the side of the stables before the guards started their return trip, finding safety between the building and the eastern wall. When they reached the other side, they could see a small door attached to the main palace building, a huge stone and wood structure that seemed to go on forever. Looking up, Eryn could see the two tall towers, disappearing into the sky.

  "That door should lead to the kitchens," Silas said. "Once we get in, they're going to raise the alarm. We need to find the Overlord before they can bring the soldiers from the courtyard. I don't want to give you false hope. There's a very good chance we'll die."

  Eryn had understood that from the beginning. She had promised her mother she would survive, but to her that didn't mean hiding somewhere while other people suffered, while others like her were hunted and killed. The Overlord wasn't him, but he was her home province's representation of him. She would rather die trying to make a statement about his rule, about the lives he affected, and the ability of even a young girl from one of his tiny villages to stand up to his cruelty, rather than live as a coward.

  "I know," she said. "Thank you again, Silas. You've been a wonderful mentor and friend."

  He looked at her and smiled. "You've been a fantastic student. You've been an even better partner. Let's go."

  They crossed the grass at a dead run, not even trying to hide. There were no cries or shouts of alarm from the outside, but when they pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchens, there was plenty of commotion.

  It wasn't targeted at them. The kitchen was a busy place of its own, with cooks, maids and servants rushing around to meet the needs of the palace's many inhabitants. It wasn't only the Overlord who stayed there, but many of the lesser titled positions of the province as well.

  They didn't notice Silas and Eryn right away, and it gave them enough time to locate the exit through an open door to the south. All they had to do was cross the room.

  Silas sheathed his sword, and walked ahead with calm purpose. Eryn decided to follow his lead, and she fell in behind him, equally confident. The servants began to notice them as they passed, but the demeanor and attitude of belonging caused them to spare only a moments glance before returning to their tasks. They had more personal concerns than two nobles taking a stroll through the kitchen, and they didn't look long enough to notice the dampness of their clothing.

  The other side opened up in to a large foyer with an arched passage to the left and right, and two doors in the center, spaced a dozen feet apart. They stepped to one side of the kitchen and pressed their backs to the wall.

  "Which way?" Eryn asked.

  "Most of his palaces are the same. The banquet hall is in front of us. The throne room will be in front of that. Both left and right passages should wrap around, with stairs up to a second level balcony and living quarters. I expect the Overlord will be in his throne room, overseeing the search of the crowd. Let's-"

  Silas was interrupted when two soldiers walked in from the kitchen area, holding pastries in their hands. They didn't see the two of them, and they turned left and headed down the hallway.

  "That was close," Eryn whispered.

  Silas nodded. "We need to make this quick," he said. "We'll go through the banquet hall."

  He went over to the door on the right and put his ear to it, and then he took the handle and pulled it open.

  Eryn couldn't believe the size of the room. At least a hundred feet long or more, with a high ceiling encircled with colored glass, and a dozen or more chandeliers hanging from wooden beams that crossed high above, but not as high as the
rooftop. Three huge tables took up the floor space, with enough seats for three or four hundred people. The center table was slightly higher than the other two, and the chair at its head was large and ornate, with dark blue velvet and leather. Thankfully, nobody was sitting in it, or any of the other chairs.

  "Wait," Silas said, putting his hand up in front of her when she started to move. He pointed up to a high balcony she hadn't noticed, where a guard was walking along the hallway, eating the pastry they had seen him with only moments before. "Under the table," he said.

  They dropped down and crawled over to the long table, using it to block the soldier from seeing them. They inched hand over hand along the ground towards the other side of the room. Eryn held her breath, just waiting for the guard to start yelling.

  Tense minutes passed, but the guard never saw them. They looked up at him when they reached the end of the table, and saw him scanning the room.

  "Give me a coin from the purse," he said.

  Eryn took the purse out of her pocket. Silas had tied it tight so that the coins couldn't shift while they moved and make noise, and she didn't know how to open it. She handed the whole thing to him.

  "I'll need to teach you knots," he whispered, tugging on the string and opening the purse. He took out a copper coin, and then carefully knotted it closed again and handed it back.

  He looked up at the guard, and then tossed the coin through the air. The moment it landed on the other side of the room with a clatter, he ran for the door, with Eryn right behind.

  The guard's head had followed the noise, so he didn't see them. Silas opened the door just enough, and they both slipped through.

  Eryn discovered that the throne room of the palace was almost as large as the banquet hall, and they shared similar design in the stained glass ringed ceilings, the wooden beams supporting many chandeliers, the balcony running high above the main floor, and the overall feeling of grandiosity. Yet where the banquet hall had been functional, the throne room was opulent. Thick red carpets lined a polished marble floor, ornately sculpted marble columns reached up to support the balcony, and there was gilding and gold-leafing on parts of almost everything.