Chapter One
Diplomacy was a horrible racket, fit only for idealists. So much about diplomacy was about faith in your fellow man. For instance, diplomats had to take it on faith that those who received them would show them restraint and decency. They had to take it on faith that they wouldn't be immolated, beheaded, enslaved, mutilated, or otherwise punished for the actions of their masters. And at this point in his life, Jurgund Kinnese found he had very little faith left in mankind.
Kinnese glanced at his two escorts as they led him through Regent Ebizar's private fortress, deep within the nation of Melcara. Each of his escorts wore black sackcloth over their heads, with studded metal bands around their foreheads. Kinnese couldn’t tell if the bands were decorative or not, since the studs resembled large screws. There were no visible eye slits for the guards, yet they moved with grace and speed through the fortress halls. It was said that those in Ebizar's inner circle took part in sacrificial rituals that marked them forever. Eyes, ears, noses, the entire face could be burned away by ancient magics. Pain was the cost of Ebizar's secrets, and his followers paid it gladly. Kinnese rubbed his own wrists as an echo of phantom pain shooting through them. He knew the feeling well.
It had been five months since he escaped the Judicator's Tower. Five months since he had earned the scars on his wrists from bursting the manacles that bound him there. The pain had been so excruciating that he could remember almost nothing else of his escape. But he had escaped, and he had vowed to never be so sloppy again.
Kinnese had never considered himself a thoughtful man, but over the five months since his escape he had certainly done some thinking. On his place in the world in general, and his role within his master's organization specifically. His master had been merciful the one time, but Kinnese couldn’t count on such leniency in the future. So he needed to use some forethought to ensure he wouldn't find himself at the mercy of his employer again. His current visit to Melcara, for instance, was just one product of his forethought.
Ignoring his sense of self-preservation screaming at him the entire time, Kinnese felt a thrill wash over him as he walked through Ebizar's retreat. The rumors of the Regent's dark cult and their communions with ancient beings were told often enough that he expected something...unholy in the fortress. Flayed bodies, perhaps. Or walls wet with the entrails of the sacrificed, maybe. He would have settled on something as simple as an orgy. But so far the palace surrendered no secrets, nor offered any intrigue. Indeed, it was quite the opposite. Every room, every hall, was completely unadorned. There was nothing but plain stone walls and cold, bare floors. No furniture, no decoration, no tapestries or rugs. Just emptiness. Apart from his two escorts, Kinnese had seen no other living beings since he had arrived. The thrill quickly gave way to apprehension as his self-preservation took over again, his hand unconsciously gripping the pommel of his sword as they walked.
Eventually the hallway opened up into what was apparently the fortress's great hall. Stone pillars rose up from the floor to meet the high vaulted ceiling above, torches were placed on all sides of the pillars, casting dancing shadows this way and that. A guard stood at the base of each pillar, a long jagged spear in hand. In the center of the room, raised up on a dais, was a plain stone chair, as if carved from living stone. A carafe made out of crystal was next to the chair on a small table. And on the chair sat the Regent Ebizar.
Kinnese found himself almost disappointed by what he saw. Ebizar was a small man with gray, thin hair. His frame was so slight that he looked, frail, almost malnourished. He wore a tattered black robe that was too large for him, and he had dirty sandals on his feet. Despite his appearance, Kinnese saw a power and intensity in the man's eyes that was befitting the rumors.
The escorts halted before the dais, as did Kinnese, who bowed slightly at the waist, both arms crossed over his chest as was the custom in Melcara.
“Lord Regent,” he began, “my humble thanks for receiving me and granting me this audience.”
Ebizar said nothing, his face looking almost bored.
“I've come here as a gesture of good will, on behalf of my master,” Kinnese continued. “He wishes to express his...regret over any misunderstandings that may have arisen regarding the incident involving the theft of the Phaedra from your lands.”
At that the Regent slightly leaned forward, a sour expression on his face.
“'Misunderstanding' you say?” Ebizar's voice was dry and cracked, like an old man's voice who was unaccustomed to speech. “He orchestrates this so-called incident, and after he gets what he wants he sends the very thief that robbed me to mock me with false apologies? Please, enlighten me as to why there should not be one more 'misunderstanding' and I have you rendered down to your dregs and consumed?”
The base of Kinnese's spine went cold, but his composure never faltered. This was where Kinnese's lack of faith in the decency of others warred with his mission of diplomacy. To be fair, he had expected this response. If anything, Ebizar's less than pleased attitude towards him and his master proved that the trip was necessary. They had to smooth over any wrinkles between Ebizar and themselves. If they kept at each other’s throats, there would be too many knives in the dark to operate effectively. They needed a truce, of sorts. Kinnese did his best to keep his voice level, but it was tough. Ebizar was more than willing to carry out his threats.
“Ah, now we get to the nature of the misunderstanding, Lord Regent. It was not I, either alone or acting on my master's orders, who was so brazen to rob you. Nor are we now in possession of the Phaedra. Yes, I admit, I was involved in what happened after, as Samnusen no doubt reported. But only tangentially, Lord Regent. In fact,” he slowly removed a parchment of fine velum sealed with wax, “part of my coming here was to deliver this to you.” One of the escorts plucked the parchment from Kinnese's hand. Ebizar slowly sat back in his chair, his face unreadable.
“So tell me then, little paw, who has my Phaedra? Why have you come here?”
“A member of Tethis's Outrider Legion, now stationed somewhere in the southwest of the Dominion. If you read the letter, you'll find it contains the name and location of the men we believe is in possession of your property. They were the ones who also killed your agent.”
“He was disposable,” Ebizar shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Though conflict is brewing between us, Tethis wouldn't be so bold as to carry out such an act. Not yet, at least.”
“Lord Regent, if I may be allowed to be candid with you?”
A cruel rictus of a smile formed on Ebizar's face and he nodded.
“Your Lordship is correct in the sense that Tethis did not commission the crime against you. No, Lord Regent, that was orchestrated by the Akvan himself, whom it seems has chosen to use Tethis as his own personal weapon to defeat you. Indeed, we believe the Akvan commissioned the theft as a means of testing your internal defenses, which he then shared knowledge of with the Dominion's Praetorians.” Kinnese cleared his throat, and stole a quick glance at one of his escorts before speaking. This next part is where the true danger lay. No one truly liked honesty, especially not violent heads of state.
“However, your Lordship is also incorrect. Tethis would be so bold, and in fact is so bold. Your own...swift rise to power here has proven to them that you are a brutal, efficient leader, a serious threat on their borders. Your very presence will force Tethis to be proactive. I've seen the early plans for troop deployments myself. The Dominion is currently raising two fresh Legions specifically to march on you, in addition to the ones already on the border. Elements of the Outrider and Bulwark Legions are also being dispatched. And that is leaving ou
t the Tenth Legion.” The Tenth Legion was comprised of nothing but the Dominion's five Skyships, flying vessels manned by only the most tested veteran soldiers, sailors, and mages Tethis could muster. The power projection that the Tenth Legion possessed gave all of the Dominion's neighbors pause when they considered what they could gain by attacking the small nation.
As Kinnese spoke, Ebizar's eyes closed to slits and his breathing, already uneven, sped up. He reached with one hand to the carafe on the table and brought it up to his mouth, drinking deeply of it while Kinnese spoke. A black, viscous fluid dribbled down both sides of his mouth as he did so, but his eyes never left Kinnese. He drank the entire pitcher and set the carafe down silently. He remained silent for a moment after Kinnese was finished. When he did speak, his voice sounded richer and stronger than before.
“Tethis' troop deployments are known to me, little paw. Why tell me what I already know?”
“Simply to put things in perspective, Lord Regent. You and your agents will have their hands full dealing with a formidable nation. And while we may not share the same goals, but we do share the same enemies. The Dominion of Tethis has been a thorn in my master's side for a while now, as your lordship no doubt knows.” Kinnese took a breath. Ebizar's gaze was withering. “I'm not suggesting we forge an alliance. Or even that we like each other. But let's not knife each other from behind while we face the same enemy in front of us. There is plenty in this world for both of us to take without getting in each other’s way. Of course, aid can be rendered to each other in the future if the need arises, but for now it's enough to keep the lines of communication open.”
“You are not suggesting, eh?” Ebizar smiled wickedly. “Does your master even know you are here?”
Kinnese nodded. “It was my idea originally, Lord Regent, yes. I'm the one who has the most to worry from your agents, and thought this may help keep them away. My master saw wisdom in it in the grand scheme, and I hope you do as well.”
“Bold. Very bold,” Ebizar said quietly. “Tell your master I will consider your words. If the information regarding my Phaedra is true, it will go a long way towards, as you say, 'keeping the lines of communication open.' Perhaps we can find a use for each other. In time. You may go now. But before you do, I would ask one final question of you.”
“Of course, Lord Regent.”
“Do you truly know who it is you serve? The type of being he is, his goals, and the depths he will go to to accomplish them?”
“I know enough to serve him, Lord Regent.”
Ebizar barked out a harsh laugh. “In other words, no, you don't have the faintest inkling of who he is. In that case, let me offer you this. If you do discover your master's true identity, and you find it not to your liking, know that I too reward faithful service. Capable men of action are in short supply.”
Kinnese bowed deeply at the waist. “Thank you, Lord Regent. I will take your offer...under advisement for the time being.” That elicited another cruel creak of laughter from Ebizar, who motioned him away with one hand.
It wouldn't entirely be true to say that Kinnese ran out of Ebizar's fortress, but his escorts were hard pressed to keep up without breaking stride. Ebizar's words troubled him, but his mind seemed to try and push them out.
The sky was a bleak gray above as Kinnese left through the main gate of the fortress. Everything around was gray. The stone of the fortress behind him, the road beneath him. The sun itself was a dim gray disk behind the clouds. He made the appropriate comparisons to his own life and moved on. The rented carriage awaited him in the stables not far away, and he had no desire to linger in the desolate lands of Melcara anymore.
After about twenty paces a voice whispered in his mind. His master's voice.
“So, you made it out in one piece, eh? I'm surprised. Pleasantly so, of course. I need your presence immediately. We have much work ahead of us.”
“'Immediately' will have to wait,” Kinnese said aloud, thankful that no one was around. “I'm still in Melcara, rather far from home.”
“We can't afford to wait, not right now. Have you eaten recently?”
Confused by the sudden shift in conversation, Kinnese was about to reply when the world around him went crimson and every fiber of his being screamed in agony. After a few long, torturous heartbeats of pain, Kinnese found himself standing in a well-lit, comfortably furnished dining room. He did not get much time to survey his new surroundings before nausea took him and he doubled over, violently throwing up the contents of his stomach.
“Oh,” came his master’s voice, “I see you did eat. Apologies. But like I said, we have work to do.”
Kinnese stopped retching and unsteadily sat down at a seat across the table from his master, now wearing the body of a well-dressed but otherwise nondescript nobleman. Kinnese placed both elbows on the table, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples. A headache to rival his worst hangover now waged war in his skull.
“What the hells was that?” he asked.
“Hastily prepared translocation. Through Ebizar's defensive wards. I'm actually rather proud of myself. His wards are powerful enough to tear most anyone trying that to shreds. Now you need to eat.”
His master pushed a plate towards him, piled high with steamy meats and vegetables. He then poured Kinnese a mug of ale from a brown bottle. Despite the intense nausea, Kinnese felt his stomach rumble. He picked up a fork and dug in. Between bites Kinnese managed to ask where they were.
“Oberon. So tell me, how is dear Ebizar holding up these days?”
Kinnese quickly recounted his meeting with the Regent, stopping only to eat and drink. He found that talking helped soothe the nausea away and his hunger grew ravenous. Soon he found himself speaking with his mouth full. He held nothing back to his master, who was extremely curious as to Ebizar's physical condition, and who took an extreme interest in the fluid Ebizar drank. From its color, to the thickness of the liquid, to the type and size of the carafe. Kinnese told everything, even what he didn't remember noticing at the time. He kept nothing back except the Regent's offer to him. He had no desire to consider it at all, but he didn't want to plant any type of seed in his master's mind of him being disloyal. Kinnese found it took an enormous amount of self-discipline to not reveal that one small fact. His master's grin, however, indicated he guessed something was held back.
“And what aren't you telling me?”
Kinnese was silent for a moment. He didn't want to cross his employer by being disloyal, but he also didn't want to be forward. If he was being honest with himself, Ebizar's question had struck a nerve simply because it had asked something that he himself had asked many times before. Just who the hells was he working for? And why? Something in his mind pushed the thoughts away. He was just asked a question. Better to answer it quickly and get it over with.
“Oh, just that the Regent offered me a job if I ever decided I didn't like who it was I was working for.”
“Did he now? Well that is to be expected. You are a catch, as the fishermen say. I never thought you'd convince me on this whole 'enemy of my enemy' rubbish, but you did. And I concede that it may have won us some breathing room.”
Between mouthfuls of food Kinnese grinned. “The enemy of my enemy doesn't have to be my friend sir, but he can at least take a few arrows meant for me in the process.”
“Well said,” his master chuckled and saluted him with his own mug of ale before he drank from it.
Something nagged at Kinnese. He had just been thinking of something rather important, but he couldn't place it. Some big serious issue, but it was nebulous in his mind, like a dream fleeing from memory. Shaking his head as if to clear it out, he caught his master peering at him over his ale mug. He did not like the look he was getting, and decided to change topics.
“So boss, what is so important that I had to vomit all over your floor to find out about?”
“To business, right. I was thinking that the success you had with Ebizar might lead to a somewhat different role
in the organization for you. I have compiled a list of names. A few individuals possessing a range of skill sets that we either need right now, or will very soon. The Apotheosis will require a little bit more than what just you and I can muster. At the moment, anyways.”
Hearing the word Apotheosis had a strange effect on Kinnese. He was at once confused and excited for it. This had happened before when his master mentioned it, but he never paid it much mind. He knew that Apotheosis was what his master was striving for, that it was extremely important, and required a great deal of effort. But what exactly it was...
“So Kinnese,” his master continued, snapping him back to the conversation at hand, “how would you feel about being named official talent scout of our little group? It will require a deft touch, but it's something you've shown you have. Plus you are a minor celebrity in certain circles now, which will certainly help. Not very many outlaws can claim to have held a knife to a Praetorian's throat and then escaped from the clutches of the Judicators.”
Kinnese took a long drink from his mug, questions rose and faded in his mind as he did so. Eventually, it was much easier to focus on the task at hand, and his mind seemed to clear. He set the mug down and smiled.
“Where do I start?”
Chapter 2
The forest was quiet.
Birds, normally filling the air with their song, were silent. Their usual audience of animals and insects were also mute. Not even the yellow cicadas, whose chattering provided a vocal backdrop to the forest in summer, uttered a sound. There was expectation in the air, tinged with danger. The anticipation of a trap about to be sprung.
Four men, garbed in hooded cloaks that melted into the woodlands around them, slowly advanced through the wood. Though all four were armed and armored, there was not a clink of metal on metal, or a rustle of fabrics. Their silence was that of the forest, expectant and tense. Upon reaching a thick scrub of brush the men got onto their hands and knees and crawled forward until the brush had consumed them all. As they crawled, the silence of the forest gave way to the racket and din of men. Two of the silent men produced small spyglasses and brought them up to their eyes to survey the others, the lenses not reaching past the outer layer of brush.
Chasing Down Glory: The Outrider Legion: Book Two Page 1