by Lee Carlon
Vincent caught Pete’s elbow to stop him before he reached the rest of their party. “You’re not saying—”
Pete turned and pushed Vincent into the alley wall. He leaned in close, his eyes blazing with anger. “Don’t think we’re done, you and me. You might have proved yourself to be less than completely fucking useless back in Obdurin’s audience chambers, but I still owe you a fat lip and a good kicking.”
Vincent didn’t try to fight Pete or slip out of his grip. He asked, “Do you really think Fahlim would have killed them?”
“I fucking guarantee it. That prick would cut his own mother’s throat for a decent bottle of wine. You be careful of him. He’ll toy with you like a cat with a mouse, until he gets bored, that is.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Vincent asked.
“Because we ain’t finished yet,” Pete said. “I owe you one, and I ain’t having that fat prick take away my chance. You understand?” Pete shoved Vincent a second time and then stepped back and went to join the rest of their party.
When Vincent drew level with them, Fahlim asked, “Is everything in order?”
Vincent nodded. His throat was tight, and he said nothing.
The alley opened out to an empty city square of marble statues and water fountains. The palace was on the far side of the square and their approach would be open to scrutiny.
Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan said, “If we skim in pairs and stay in the shadows—”
Between the bondsan and Lord Obdurin, a figure of blue light bubbled into existence. Everybody stepped back in a wide circle around the figure. Several people raised their weapons at it.
“No,” Ethan said. “It’s just a hologram.”
He pointed at the projector embedded in the cobblestones beneath their feet.
The figure was a stout man with a fleshy face and a wide smile. He said, “Really, Obdurin, there is no need for all this skulking around in the shadows. I’m surprised at you, cloak and dagger isn’t your usual style.”
“I thought it was time to visit,” Obdurin replied. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, no, of course not,” the figure said. “Come to the throne room, I’ve had refreshments prepared. There’s plenty for everybody, even Ulri and his cadre, who for some reason are camped out in an abandoned basement in the south wing. Please tell him to join us. I know he is a twitchy fellow, otherwise I would have invited him myself.”
Obdurin nodded to the hologram, the cameras in the projection unit must have registered the movement because the hologram said, “Excellent, this should be fun. It’s been such a long time since we saw each other.”
The hologram disappeared before Obdurin could reply.
7
In This Life and the Next
The instant the hologram winked out of existence, Walden asked, “What now?”
Lord Obdurin looked at his friend and said, “Now we visit Lord Marlan and see what he’s prepared for us.”
“It’s a trap,” Vincent said.
“Genius,” Pete said. “Walden, you were right, we do need him.”
Walden glanced at Pete, but he didn’t say anything. Lord Obdurin ignored the banter and left the shadows of the alley. He followed a path across the center of the city square, past ornate water fountains and marble statues without taking his eyes from the palace ahead. His companions hurried after him, and Gordon’s cadre skimmed, forming a protective circle around them.
The palace was a wide three-story building with white walls that caught the light of the morning suns and was accessed by climbing the famous seventy-five Turintar steps. A balcony on the third floor overlooked the square Obdurin’s party had just crossed. Before the Cleansing, Lord Marlan had addressed his people from that balcony. The palace entrance was high and wide and unguarded.
At the top of the steps, Lord Obdurin looked back at the square and told Walden, “I remember visiting before the Cleansing and seeing twenty-thousand people in that square.”
Vincent thought the Turintarian palace was as unlike Frake’s Stronghold as it was possible to be. He wondered how Marlan held his home against attacks from the other Chosen. Frake’s Stronghold was utilitarian and foreboding. The Turintarian palace looked like a billionaire’s retreat.
Vincent’s father had often referred to Lord Marlan as that damn politician. Rhyne and Turintar shared a border, but Benshi had never attacked Turintar, something that wasn’t true of the other countries bordering Rhyne. Too many supplies and goods passed through Turintar, and Lord Marlan had trade agreements and treaties with almost all of the Chosen.
Lord Obdurin followed corridors confidently through the palace. Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan skimmed ahead of him, and the rest of the party followed with more of Gordon’s bondsan acting as a rearguard.
Within minutes they came to a corridor that ended in a large entrance with doors that had been left wide open. Obdurin passed through the entrance without hesitation.
The room they entered was many times longer than it was wide and it was wide enough to lay Obdurin’s audience chamber end to end three times.
“Welcome one, welcome all. Come in. Come in,” said a man at the opposite end of the long room. “Obdurin, don’t be shy. It has been too long, and you know you’re always welcome in my home.”
“Your hospitality has never been questioned,” Obdurin said.
At the far end of the room, there was a raised platform with a throne in the center of the platform. The man they’d seen in the hologram, stood in front of the throne facing the room.
Lord Marlan descended the steps at the front of the platform and had to shout to be heard. “I should be angry with you, Obdurin, dropping in unannounced like this.”
“I’m sure you understand. Under the circumstances I wasn’t sure what sort of a reception to expect,” Obdurin said.
“You’re always welcome here. Rest assured, the only kind of reception you will ever receive is one of welcome and hospitality. Regardless of anything else, Rhysin and Turin have no ill will toward each other, and neither should we. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and the informal alliance that has existed between us for the duration of your rule.”
“No ill will?” Obdurin asked. “I understand you have troops en route to Frake’s Peak.”
Obdurin and Marlan met in the center of the room.
Marlan nodded. “Yes. You understand correctly. Politics. We are all slaves to its demands, but there is time enough for that. For now, allow me the indulgence of playing host.” When Obdurin offered no protest, Marlan turned his attention to Obdurin’s companions. “Greetings, Councilor Walden. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Walden nodded formerly, “Lord.”
“Everybody, welcome. This is quite some party you’ve brought with you, Obdurin. Should I be worried?” Marlan chuckled at his own question. He gestured toward tables laid out with food along one side of the room. “Refreshments? All very unnecessary I know, but my kitchen staff are the best in Newterra, and I’ll take any opportunity I can to show off their expertise.” Marlan patted the front of his robes. Nobody moved toward the offered refreshments. “Fahlim, hello. You will vouch for my hospitality?”
“Indeed.” Fahlim showed none of his companions’ hesitation and headed straight for a long table laid out with cold meats, salads, pastries, fruits, cream, iced juices, and steaming platters of hot food.
“They may have overdone it,” Lord Marlan admitted, “but they had plenty of time to prepare.”
Vincent glanced at Obdurin and saw irritation flash across the Chosen’s features.
Fahlim selected a pastry with one hand and poured himself a goblet of wine with the other. “You look like you have been employing your kitchen staff less and less.” Fahlim raised an eyebrow and looked at Lord Marlan’s waistline.
“Oh. A trick of the light nothing more,” Marlan said.
“Well, if you’d like me to keep them busy I am happy to oblige.” Fahlim took another pa
stry.
Marlan smiled, pleased that at least one person appreciated his hospitality. He turned to the rest of his guests. “Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan, I am pleased you’re here to protect and guide Lord Obdurin.”
Vincent had never met Lord Marlan. He’d been the Lord of Turintar during all of Lord Benshi’s reign, but he’d never visited Rhyne, and neither Vincent nor his father had ever visited Turintar. Among the Chosen Vincent had met, it was considered unusual at least, a break in protocol and insulting at worst, for one Chosen to address the bondsan of another Chosen. In an attempt to cover his obvious curiosity, Vincent crossed the room to the refreshments and poured himself a glass of iced juice.
Protect and guide? Vincent wasn’t sure, but he suspected Marlan was warning Obdurin and his bondsan alike. But warning them about what?
“You’re alone, Lord,” Gordon said.
Lord Marlan looked around and smiled. “So I am.”
“I had hoped to see Siaveen and her cadre again,” Gordon said.
“I bet you had.” Marlan grinned.
“He’s right,” Fahlim said. “Why are you alone? Where is your good lady wife?”
“She is feeling unwell,” Marlan said.
“Something she ate, perhaps?” Fahlim asked.
“No, no. Nothing like that. She tires easily from time to time.”
Vincent looked up from the refreshments to examine Obdurin and Fahlim. Neither man showed any reaction to Marlan’s words, though almost everybody in Obdurin’s party had heard Rapta tell Obdurin that Marlan’s wife was pregnant.
Does he know yet? Vincent wondered of Marlan.
“I hope she recovers soon,” Fahlim said. “And your dimin?”
“They are away playing other games today,” Marlan said.
“That’s a shame.” To Vincent, Fahlim said, “Lord Marlan has the most exquisite dimin of all the Chosen. Turin’s children are delightful to behold, if not actually to hold.”
Ulri’s cadre entered from the back of the room and took up positions and Lord Marlan’s expression became troubled.
Vincent watched Ulri for some outward sign that the bondsan noticed him. It was ridiculous, there were far more important things at stake than his presence, but on the handful of occasions he’d seen Ulri or one of his bondsan in the years since Benshi’s death, he’d felt uneasy, and he suspected they felt the same way.
“To business then,” Marlan said.
“You’ve sided with Lord Rarick,” Obdurin said.
Marlan nodded. “It’s true.”
“Why?” Obdurin sounded genuinely puzzled.
“Why? Really? I’m sorry, old friend, your time is almost over. Politics. The great game has shifted against you. I wish it were not so, but—“
“Self-preservation?” Obdurin sounded disgusted.
“What else is there?” Marlan asked. “Fahlim?”
Around a mouth full of pastry Fahlim said, “Food and sex.”
Obdurin’s smile looked sinister. “Perhaps you’re right. What happens when a man concerned with self-preservation is cornered and sees his fate?”
“There is no need to make this personal, Obdurin. Given the choice I was given, you would have come to the same conclusions. You may yet come to the same conclusions as I have. There is a chance of a legacy that could reshape Newterra. Embrace it.”
“By rolling over for you and Rarick?” Lord Obdurin asked.
“I have a proposal for you. I think you’ll be interested.”
Obdurin said, “You’ve always been a survivor, Marlan. You know what will happen if Rarick gets control of Rhysin’s heart.”
“I know that things will change if there is an alliance in Central Newterra.”
“Good,” Obdurin interrupted Marlan. “Then let us form an alliance. You and I. Let it be an alliance between men of conscience and good will. You have always been a survivor, and we work well together. Align with me, still send your troops to Peak City but have them join me in defending Peak City from Rarick. Nothing good can come from Rarick’s victory. You must know that he will take Turintar as well.”
“I am afraid it’s too late for that,” Marlan said. “I have already given my word.”
“Lord Rarick doesn’t deserve your word,” Walden said.
“Perhaps not, but it’s not about Rarick, it’s about me. Once given my word is true, and it doesn’t matter who I gave it to.”
“Let me put it another way. Align with me, or I’ll replace you with somebody who will,” Lord Obdurin said.
Marlan laughed. “Do you think so little of me, Obdurin? Do you think that by marching in here and barking at me I’ll roll over for you? Do you think I am such a helpless coward?”
“I think you’re a survivor and you know what serves your best interests. You cannot believe any good will come from an alliance with Rarick.”
“I can, and I do. I am sorry, Obdurin. Truly, I am.”
Lord Obdurin said, “Pete.”
“Aye, Lord?” Pete moved forward to stand with the Chosen.
“Kill Lord Marlan and take Turin’s heart. You will be Turin’s new Chosen.”
Pete stayed where he was. “Do what now?”
“Don’t be foolish, Obdurin,” Marlan said with an easy, unworried smile.
“Kill him,” Obdurin told Pete.
Marlan laughed now and said, “This is all very unnecessary and quite silly, but if it will allow us to move on.” He advanced on Pete and said, “Go ahead young man, let’s get it over with shall we?”
Pete retreated a step.
“For goodness sake, Pete. Why do you think you’re here if not to kill people?” Lord Obdurin asked.
“People is one thing, Lord. A damned Chosen ain’t quite the same thing.”
Ethan stepped forward from the crowd, drawing the laser-cutter at his side he pointed it at Pete. “You’ve been given an order.”
From around a mouthful of pastries, Fahlim said, “Excellent idea, Ethan. That will calm things down nicely.”
“If you planned to kill me, you wouldn’t have waited until now to tell the man who will replace me,” Marlan said.
“My first choice died in the street less than an hour ago with a knife in his chest,” Obdurin said.
It took Vincent a moment to realize Lord Obdurin meant the dog Rapta had killed. He’s playing Marlan. He wondered, And Pete?
Pete squirmed where he stood, but finally, he said, “Respectfully, Lord, I’m stupid, but I ain’t that stupid.”
Lord Obdurin’s eyebrows rose questioningly.
Fahlim laughed uproariously spraying bits of pastry.
Pete said, “Ah, shit, bind me in this life and the next, but I ain’t putting that thing on my wrist. I ain’t a God’s puppet—” Pete looked at Obdurin then swore again as he realized what he’d just said and who he’d said it to. He turned to Ethan who was still pointing a laser-cutter at him and said, “Could you pull the fucking trigger and get it over with? I’m dying here anyway.”
“No!” Obdurin said. “I accept your offer, Pete. You will be bound in this life and the next.”
Pete sighed in relief.
“Give me a knife,” Lord Obdurin said.
Pete grimaced, but he drew a knife from his belt and held it out by the blade to Obdurin. “That’s the same one I gave you eight years ago. The one you killed Benshi with.”
Vincent looked sharply at Pete. He hadn’t known anybody but Obdurin had participated in Benshi’s murder.
“You should have done this then.” Tears formed in Pete’s eyes.
Obdurin took the knife without comment.
Pete said, “Though, you know, you could wait for me to die and make use of this life as well.”
“I’m not going to kill you. Hold out your hand,” Obdurin said.
Pete blinked and frowned in confusion, but he held out his right hand, palm up.
“This is forbidden, Obdurin,” Marlan said.
“Not to me it isn’t,” Obdurin said a
nd nicked the ball of Pete’s thumb. He took Pete’s thumb and pressed it onto Rhysin’s heart, smearing the blood across the amber stone’s surface. To Pete, Obdurin said, “It’s done.”
Pete nodded and put his bleeding thumb to his lips. He stepped back and muttered, “Too close.”
Everybody else watched the blood slowly disappear from the surface of Rhysin’s heart. It looked like the blood was evaporating, but to Vincent, who was close enough to see the stone in detail, he thought Rhysin’s heart now had a thin vein of red, almost too fine to see, running through it.
“There will be consequences,” Marlan said.
“There always are,” Obdurin said matter-of-factly. “Did you really think I would be fooled?”
“Fooled?” Marlan asked.
“I know a thing or two about illusions, and this one is solid enough, but it lacks life.” Obdurin advanced on Marlan and thrust the knife he held into Marlan’s chest. The knife slid effortlessly in up to the hilt. Obdurin let go and stepped back.
Lord Marlan looked down at his chest.
Pete and Ethan stepped back from the two Lords even as Fahlim moved closer to get a better look.
Marlan raised his hands in a shrug and said, “You got me.”
8
Welcome Party
The bracelet around Lord Marlan’s left wrist was similar to the one Lord Obdurin wore. Both bracelets held their God’s heart against the wearer’s pulse point. Once on, a Chosen couldn’t remove the bracelet or their God’s heart, but in the moment of their death the bracelet would come undone and whoever claimed it would become the God’s new Chosen.
Fahlim edged closer.
Some people believed a Chosen could only die and be replaced when the God they served had decided it was time.
Marlan’s open-armed stance revealed Turin’s heart on his wrist. The stone was a soft pink, but it gave off no light. Vincent looked at Rhysin’s heart on Obdurin’s wrist and saw the stone glowed faintly, fainter than he’d ever seen it before, but it still glowed.