The Blood of Whisperers

by Devin Madson

  ‘If you wish for one.’

  Kin ignored this. ‘What interest do the Vices have in me? In these last ten years they have shown themselves little more than troublemaking criminals, taking a hand in things that do not concern them. You know something. What is it?’

  ‘I dare not utter more than a warning, Majesty,’ I said. ‘Let us say you have given me no reason to trust you either, and I wish to keep my head.’

  ‘Are you attempting to bargain with me?’

  ‘No, Majesty. I am trying to put you on your guard. There are things going on in your empire that you know nothing about. There are people capable of things you can only imagine. Against them, Katashi is nothing more than a spoilt boy brandishing a wooden sword.’

  I wanted to say more. I wanted to explain just what Malice was capable of, but how could I? Kin was too shrewd. He would ask every question I didn’t want to answer and suspect every truth I wanted to keep secret. If I let him, he would dig and dig until there was nothing left and then no fragile friendship would stop him ordering my execution. Even my father had wanted to see me dead.

  ‘They are coming,’ I said. ‘They are with Katashi.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  I could not answer. I could not tell him about Malice, about the robe, about Takehiko. Especially not Takehiko. Katashi’s claim to the throne could be argued. His father had been executed as a traitor, but Takehiko had been an acknowledged son of Emperor Lan, a prince of the true Otako line, a prince Kin had once sworn to protect and uphold.

  When I did not speak, Kin’s look turned fierce. ‘Who are you protecting, Darius?’

  You.

  ‘Myself, Majesty. I will keep my head and I will bid you goodnight. If you will not return to Mei’lian then double the guards, triple them, don’t let a single soldier sleep tonight.’

  ‘Another attempt on my life?’

  ‘No. Katashi would rather have you executed than assassinated. It is not your life I fear for. It’s your throne.’

  Kin raised his hand. ‘I understand your warning, but I trust my men. I will remain here and I will fight for Kisia against Katashi and whoever else steps forward to claim it. In the morning you will be relieved of your position. Have your secretaries send any incomplete reports and correspondence to Master Hallan. Your belongings will be sent to Esvar and there I hope you will stay. I wish very much that things could have been different.’

  He held out his hand, and knowing what was expected of me, I knelt before him. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty,’ I said, and kissed his fingers.

  ‘Goodbye, Darius.’

  In an instant he had pulled his hand away and was gone, the skirt of his robe brushing the smooth wood with every step.

  Left alone, I fought the urge to laugh. That was it. Five years of service and I had to be grateful to leave with my head. I was no longer welcome at court, but Esvar held too many memories. I could not stay, I could not go, and I could not leave Kin to face an enemy he knew nothing about.

  Around me the palace hummed gently with a myriad of soft sounds – footsteps, whispers, and the crackle of burning torches. Dawn was a long way off yet, but the castle felt none of man’s anxiety. The paintings and ancient screens had watched dozens of emperors walk these halls, coming and going, living and dying, and after them Kisia lived on, for better or worse. The empire never died. Yet Malice had once had a dream where gods ruled Kisia, where they brought man to heal like dogs, where we judged those who were worthy and those who were not with the tips of our fingers.

  He would come. He was sick of waiting, sick of watching me parade around like an empty shell. I might have been able to stop him once, but it was too late. Kin hadn’t listened, hadn’t understood how desperately I needed him to win. If he failed, so too would I, for without him there was nothing to stand between me and the power of my blood. I had to believe that a man could rule this empire.

  I had to believe that Kisia needed no gods.

  Chapter 20

  The room felt barren. It owned the usual complement of furnishings, but the air had a lifeless chill. I stood in the doorway and looked around, sure there had been some mistake. Everyone said Lord Laroth was a rich man and he certainly dressed like one, but this was little more than a cell.

  I stepped in, sliding the door closed behind me. The Keep was all but silent, as yet no sound of Katashi or his men. The minister might return at any moment. I wanted him to come, but there was something else I needed to do first.

  His travelling chests were not locked. I lifted the lid of the first and the smell of kiri wood assailed me. Pale shavings were spread over a neatly folded robe, violet with silver thread. I brushed them out of the way and peeled back the robe and the sheet of thin paper that separated it from the next. Sky-blue silk. Then a heavy winter robe in dark green. Sliding my hand down the side, I felt nothing but soft fabric and closed the lid again.

  Sitting back on my haunches, I looked around, wondering where he would keep his jewellery. Did the servants keep it in a special place? Or would it be buried in one of these chests?

  Footsteps sounded outside. Crouched in front of the first chest, I froze, listening to the steady paces. They drew close, but did not stop, fading once again into the silence.

  I moved to the next chest. It was full of personal belongings, of parchment scrolls and sticks of ink. There was a roll of silk containing brushes of all sizes, a few mixing stones, two spare pairs of wooden sandals with the Laroth crest branded into the heel, a trio of shaving blades, a collection of leather bound books and an Errant board. Throwing each of these items onto the floor, I dug deeper, unearthing a box containing a pair of small scissors and some pincers, and I began to seriously doubt my luck.

  ‘A thief now, as well as a traitor?’

  I sucked in a breath. Lord Laroth stood in the doorway, the same picture of precision I had first seen back in Shimai. He looked around at the scattered belongings and blinked slowly, taking it all in with no change in his expression.

  ‘Was it necessary to make such a mess?’ he asked at last. ‘You were perhaps looking for something specific?’

  ‘My necklace.’

  ‘Your necklace.’

  ‘The one your father gave me.’

  ‘I am well aware which necklace you mean,’ he said, stepping into the room and closing the door. ‘But I was not aware I was under any obligation to return it to you.’

  With a theatrical wince at the strewn belongings, Lord Laroth indicated the table. ‘Won’t you please join me? I am afraid I have no refreshments. If you don’t mind me saying so, it was not you I was expecting.’

  ‘No?’ I said. ‘Your friend Malice perhaps.’

  ‘I would rather have called him your friend. You wore his robe at the meeting after all.’

  ‘Was that a clever thing to say? You must know him well to know the robe was his.’

  ‘I never said that I did not.’

  We stared at one another. My heart was hammering in my chest, so fast it turned my stomach sick. This was the man who had known my name and condemned me anyway, the man who betrayed my sister, lied about my father, and left me to break beneath the branding iron.

  ‘You are very alike, you and Malice,’ I said, holding in my wrath with tightly curled fists. ‘You are both monsters clad in expensive silk.’

  Without a word, Lord Laroth came forward, slow steps bringing him across the matting. It crackled under his feet, scenting the air with dust. His expression did not alter. He did not hurry and he did not speak, just knelt at the table and clasped his hands in his lap.

  ‘Tell me, Endymion,’ he said at last. ‘Are you trying to make me angry? Or afraid?’

  ‘My name is Takehiko Otako and you know it.’

  His eyes bored into mine. ‘I see Malice has been sharing secrets.’

  ‘You knew.’

&nb
sp; ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you condemned me anyway.’

  With great deliberation he blinked, so calmly I wanted to hit him. I controlled the urge with an effort. There would be time enough to make him suffer when I had the answers I needed.

  ‘What else did Malice tell you, Endymion?’ he asked.

  ‘He told me my name and that is all that matters.’

  ‘But names mean so little. Take Malice for example, you cannot be fool enough to think that just because he calls himself Malice that makes it his true name. He had a father and so he has a name, a family.’

  ‘I don’t see your point,’ I said, beginning to wish he would direct those sharp violet eyes somewhere else. ‘My father was an Otako, so I am an Otako.’

  And there came the first change in his expression. The impassive face came to life, perfect lips turning into a smile. ‘Not your friend then, Malice.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What do you think I mean?’ Lord Laroth leaned forward. ‘He’s lying to you, Endymion.’

  ‘And you’re not?’

  He sat back. ‘I never said that. But I have not lied to you yet.’

  ‘You lied about my father.’

  ‘No. I did not lie to you then and I have not lied to you now.’

  I felt hypnotised, staring into those bright eyes. He spoke with such assurance that I wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him. But there was no warmth in him, no life, his blood as cold as a cunning snake.

  ‘My father was Emperor Lan Otako,’ I snapped. ‘He was not some honourless traitor. Your father swore an oath to protect my family and you betrayed that honour when you condemned me to this fate.’

  Something like anger lashed at my senses, gone in an instant. The minister’s face had not shifted. ‘How grievously at fault I am, to be sure,’ he said in his usual mild tone.

  ‘Grievously at fault?’ I repeated. ‘You–’

  ‘Why did you come here, Endymion?’ Lord Laroth interrupted, clasping his hands tightly upon the table.

  ‘Vengeance. But I need to know why you did it.’

  ‘Vengeance?’

  ‘I will find him and I will teach him pain.’

  He looked across the table with the same cold gaze I had first seen through the bars of my prison. ‘You think I deserve that?’

  ‘Can’t you see what you did to me?’ I said. ‘A Prince of Kisia branded a traitor in his own empire. Not once. Not twice. But three times.’ I pulled up my sleeve so he could see the last and deepest of the brands upon my arm, still red and scabbing. ‘They broke me. You broke me.’

  ‘I did what I had to do. Do you think Kin would have been glad to hear of your existence? That was not a risk I was willing to take. I saved you. I could have ordered your execution. I could have left you to burn.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you?’

  Lord Laroth slammed his fist down on the table. ‘Because I am not the monster everyone thinks me!’

  He was breathing fast, and I flinched at the sudden hit of emotion. Already his barriers were back, thick like the carefully controlled walls of a fortified city. But I had seen life. A hot-blooded man was in there somewhere.

  A tentative knock sounded on the door. I froze, and for a moment the minister’s eyes scoured my face.

  The knock came again.

  Lord Laroth got quickly to his feet and pointed one slim finger at the corner. I wanted to ignore his command, to throw it back in his face and sit at the table, but discovery would mean the end. He knew my name. I had no choice but to trust him.

  I went to the corner and wedged myself in beside a scroll cabinet. He schooled his features to a frown and slid the door. ‘Well?’ he said, his tone chilly. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Your Excellency, I have a message from General Ryoji,’ the invisible man said. ‘He requests your presence in the Entrance Circle immediately. Katashi Otako is on his way, desirous of an audience with the emperor.’

  I felt sure I had heard wrong. Katashi was already inside the walls. Why would he seek a meeting with Kin after the last had gone so badly?

  ‘He comes alone?’ Lord Laroth asked.

  ‘No, Your Excellency. He has been allowed to bring two of his men with him. They approached the front gates carrying a white flag.’

  I could not suppress the shiver that ran through me. It felt as though a feather had brushed across my soul. Growing insistent, the pressure increased, its gentle fingers drawing forth an image of Katashi from my thoughts. Katashi in his black sash striding the halls of the Keep, bathed in torchlight.

  ‘Fools!’ Lord Laroth snapped and the image was gone. ‘Tell them not to let anyone in until I get there. Go! Quickly!’

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency!’

  Footsteps hurried away and Lord Laroth slid the door closed with a crack. ‘How did you get in?’ he demanded, turning on me. ‘Did Malice get you in here?’

  ‘Why should I tell you?’

  His anger was there now, free and unfettered. I could feel it fuelling my own, the fire fizzling back and forth between us.

  ‘Because you owe me your life!’

  ‘Owe you? You should have these brands, not me.’

  Lord Laroth snarled. ‘And what would you know? What would you know of what I have done for this empire?’ His own words seemed to check his wrath and he came toward me with quick strides. ‘I have to go,’ he said, gripping my shoulders. ‘Stay here. Wait for me.’

  ‘You’ll give me up to the guards!’

  ‘No. I won’t. Trust me.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  Shaking me roughly, he snapped: ‘You stupid fool! You won’t trust me, but you’ll trust him?’ His eyes burned, no longer cold, no longer dead.

  ‘I never said I trusted him,’ I said, pulling out of his grip.

  ‘You don’t need to. Only a Vice could get in here undetected. What did you give him?’

  Feeling cornered, I pushed past him, but Lord Laroth snatched at my wrist, fingers clamping around my birthmark. ‘Don’t do it, Endymion. Don’t listen to Malice. Don’t let him have you.’

  Skin on skin there was no connection. Since the incident at Shimai there had only been one other person I had failed to connect with – Malice.

  ‘It’s too late,’ I said, staring at him dumbly. ‘Who are you?’

  It was so easy. He had let go his barriers and laid himself open. All it took was a little push, driving the Empathy into his veins, into his heart, his very soul. The connection flared, and under my touch he burned hotter than fire. Here was a man more alive than any I had ever seen, more complex, more closed. He owned places no one else was allowed to go.

  Where did this strength come from? came the whisper of Lord Laroth’s thoughts. A Whisperer. Get out! Get out of my head!

  He tried to push me away, tried to shield himself, and a memory hit me with all the force of stone...

  ‘And if I don’t want to do this anymore?’

  ‘Do what?’ Malice was there, threateningly close. He had an arm either side of my head, blocking any attempt at escape.

  ‘I am not your tool.’

  ‘No, Darius, we do this together. You’re my brother, yes?’

  ‘Half.’

  Malice took my left hand and pulled it awkwardly up before my eyes. There he drew back both his sleeve and mine, holding them so I couldn’t help be see the marks. Two identical birthmarks. ‘Half?’ he said. ‘You are more my brother than if we shared the same mother.’

  His Empathy whipped out. I had been waiting for him to resort to its strength, but I could keep him out. One moment I was open, the next there was steel between us.

  Malice snarled. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m not your tool,’ I repeated.

  ‘You are my brother!’

  ‘Yes, tha
t I cannot change. But this I can.’ I pulled my hand away and pressed it over my heart.

  Pulling away from me, Malice began to laugh. ‘A heart? You? Don’t be such a fool. Why seek to change what makes you better? You know what we can do together, what we can achieve. No mere Normal can rule Kisia. It is our duty, yes?’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ I said.

  ‘I can see through your lies, Darius.’

  ‘Then I will make the lie true!’

  Malice shoved me back against the wall, knocking breath out of me. ‘You will not leave me,’ he snarled. ‘You cannot, yes?’

  ‘You can’t stop me.’

  ‘Oh no?’

  His Empathy came again, but I kept the shield raised. ‘You think I don’t know you?’ I said. ‘I can keep you out.’ A laugh came from my dry lips, but it sounded far away. ‘You might as well let me go. I’m going to leave you anyway.’

  The laugh caught in my throat, choked to a cry. Pain filled my chest like pressure, and there was Malice, so close I could feel his breath. A little smile turned his lips, dampened by a circuit of his tongue. Then he drew the blade back out, the tip sliding free of my ribs. I gasped, sucking in air laced with pain. My blood was hot. It clogged my robe and ran onto my hands as I pressed them to my chest.

  And in my ear, Malice whispered, the words a gentle caress. ‘No, brother,’ he said. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

  Lord Laroth pulled away, the shock knocking me back into the present. Viewing the memory had been the work of an instant and he scowled, but all I could do was stare back, my thoughts in a whirl.

  Without warning, he reached out, pinching my ear lobe between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed, pain from the fresh piercing Malice had inflicted sending twinges through my head.

  ‘Do you even know what this is?’ he demanded, dragging me down by my ear. Obedient to the pain, I followed, knees collapsing onto the matting. ‘This–’ he pinched my ear harder, causing the hook of the earring to dig into my skin ‘–is your name. This is your place. You let him brand you without asking why.’