The Fractured Empire: Book Seven of the Disinherited Prince Series

by Guy Antibes

  “Good. He’s competent?”

  Shira nodded. “As competent as they come. He’s done a very good job. You’ll like him,” she said.

  “I like you better,” Pol said.

  “You should.” She hit his leg softly. She lifted up her head and kissed him.

  “And we shouldn’t?”

  “Shouldn’t what?”

  “Do much kissing. It will lead to something unforeseen,” Pol said.

  “What if I want something unforeseen?”

  “Not yet,” Pol said. He struggled to say that, but he knew the time wasn’t right for what he and Shira had in mind.

  She rose and sat on the bed opposite him. “Is this better?”

  Pol narrowed his eyes. “Were you kicked out of Ako’s room, or did you volunteer to leave?”

  Shira blushed. She looked rather fetching that way.

  “Volunteered then. You came in here to seduce me, didn’t you?”

  Her lips actually turned into a pout. Pol kept from laughing; she was so cute in her discomfort.

  “Maybe.”

  “Remember the thought, because when we both are ready, I won’t turn you away.”

  She fell against the pillow. “Do I count myself rejected?”

  “Maybe,” echoed Pol. “I don’t reject you as the love of my life, you do know that, right?”

  “I do. You are the love of my life,” she said.

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way. Unforeseen circumstances at the wrong time might affect that. You still have your mother to contend with.”

  Shira nodded with her head still on the pillow. “Queen Anira, the bane of my existence.”

  “She isn’t, and you know that. You wouldn’t exist in your existence if she were that. She is…an impediment that needs to be overcome, and I vow to you that will happen.”

  “Then you are my hero overcomer, right?”

  Pol lay down to face her. “Right. Go to sleep.” He blew out the candle.

  ~

  A sneeze built up in Pol’s nose. He woke and sat up. Shira lay next to him, still asleep. Her hair must have covered his face. His efforts to stifle the thing failed as he sneezed three times in a row.

  Shira opened her eyes. “You didn’t attack me?” she said.

  Did he sense the disappointment in her voice? “No unforeseen circumstances.” Pol climbed over her to get out of the bed. They both had slept fully-clothed.

  “Right. I enjoyed snuggling, even if you were asleep.” Shira yawned. “I need to freshen up. I think I’ll knock on Ako’s door as I pass.”

  Pol grinned. “Good idea.”

  After a hearty breakfast, the five of them left Rocky Ridge, heading up the pass. Pol looked forward to spending their next night in the duchy of Terrafin.

  “Going to wait for a caravan?” the innkeeper asked as she helped the maid clear the dishes.

  “No,” Fadden said. “We are armed and able.”

  “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “We won’t,” Pol said. “Is the pass back the way it was before the brothel owner’s gang ran things?”

  The innkeeper made a face. “They never did ‘run’ things, but I know what you mean. Are you sure you never stayed here before?”

  Pol shook his head.

  “Three of you look vaguely familiar.” She put her hand to her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Must have been a long time ago.”

  “Four years ago, actually,” Malden Gastoria said, walking into the dining room. “We passed by and picked up a father and son.”

  “Maybe,” the innkeeper said. “Yes, that makes sense.”

  “It does,” Fadden said. “We didn’t spend the night.”

  “No, it was morning, and you headed south to Port Mancus or something.”

  Fadden smiled. “You do have a good memory.”

  “For those things that go beyond normal. I don’t see that randy boy you towed along with you.”

  “He’s not making this trip,” Fadden said.

  The innkeeper nodded. “Have a good journey. Where are you headed, Yastan?”

  “We are,” Pol said. “I appreciated your cooking.”

  They stepped into the stable yard, finding thirty imperial troops in a line, watering their mounts.

  “Travel to Yastan has become dangerous,” Malden said.

  “Nothing’s changed, then?”

  “It’s only worse,” the magician said. Akonai appeared with his mount at the end of the line talking to Fadden.

  “Shouldn’t you two be running the Office of the Instrument?”

  Malden chuckled as mild a chuckle as Pol had ever seen. “Ranno isn’t retired yet, despite Farthia’s pleas. Hazett wanted you thoroughly briefed before you arrived in Yastan. Quite frankly, Akonai and I needed to get out of Yastan for a while.”

  “So the threat isn’t real; it’s only an excuse?”

  “It’s real all right. Are you armed?”

  Knives, slivers, long knife and sword, bow and arrows.”

  Malden shook his head. “You are a dangerous man.”

  Pol looked at Malden. “I intend to be to get all this fractured nonsense behind me, so I can carry on with my life.”

  “I don’t blame you there,” Malden said.

  Akil walked up to Pol. Ziirn and Demeron followed.

  “Do you all have Shinkyan horses?” Malden asked.

  “We do,” Pol said. “This is Akil D’Boria. He is a Zasosian and wants to trade.”

  “Kell is the one to talk to for that. He’s representing his father’s firm in Yastan. He married Loa while you were gone.”

  “So I’ll be able to see him.”

  “You may, but Loa works for Akonai in the Office of the Instrument. You’ll likely be seeing her all the time.”

  Pol nodded. “Akil hardly speaks any Eastrilian.”

  “Akonai will love to work with him. I suppose you’ve already begun to teach him?”

  “I have,” Pol said, “but it will take time.”

  “Time you don’t have, My Prince,” Malden said.

  After all the horses were watered, they mounted and left the inn under the astonished gaze of the innkeeper.

  ~

  Nothing happened over the pass. Either brigands were gone from the area, or the forty in Malden’s party intimidated any would-be outlaws.

  By the time they reached the capital of the Duchy of Terafin, Pol had told his story and answered endless questions. Akonai even made use of Pol as an interpreter and asked Akil some questions about the Zasosian culture.

  Malden commandeered an inn on the outskirts of the city, and the entire contingent filled the common room of the inn, all soldiers included.

  There would be no chance for a midnight rendezvous with Shira if the inn were filled. Pol, Fadden, and Akil took a three-bed room. Perhaps Pol could spend more time with Shira the next day.

  He did, but Malden and Akonai rode with them. Shira received the treatment Pol had the previous day. The pair of them extracted more information about her efforts in South Salvan than Pol had, but then he wasn’t building a pattern of her activities. He found himself doing that as the two men talked to Shira.

  They stopped in the capital of Galistya, where Malden had already arranged for an inn on his way to Deftnis from Yastan. Shira and Pol were able to slip away from the common room where the soldiers drank.

  “I didn’t quite appreciate how much you were involved in South Salvan,” Pol said. “You were a strength to Queen Isa.”

  Shira smiled. “I’m not the only one who doesn’t like to appear boastful. I didn’t tell them anything different than I told you.”

  “No, just more of it. I can see why Malden is to take Ranno’s place. He has developed excellent interrogation skills.”

  “You could do as well if you weren’t so blinded by my radiant beauty,” Shira said.

  “There is that,” Pol said smiling. “Would you like to take a stroll?”

  “Only if
you are fully-armed and shielded.” Shira’s eyes told him that she spoke in all seriousness.

  “I’ll be right back.” He ran up to his room and returned ready for anything that might happen on a casual night’s stroll in the capital of Galistya.

  “That’s better. Not as soft, but it isn’t your softness that appeals right now.” Shira took his arm, and they strolled out into the night air. When they had done this before, they always learned something from their evening walks in strange cities.

  Crowds passed them as they proceeded down the paved street. They retreated to sidewalks when available. As they walked, they did not speak. Pol enjoyed holding Shira’s hand, still thrilled they had reunited in Deftnis.

  They heard voices ahead.

  “What’s that?” Shira said.

  “Maybe a burial service,” Pol said. They had once intruded on a nighttime funeral in a city in Volia.

  Shira laughed and pulled him forward.

  The street became crowded with people and torches. Six men stood on boxes on the sidewalk.

  “This is a meeting of some sort,” Shira said.

  Pol heard angry words. People were shouting at the six men and at each other.

  “That’s treason,” a man in the crowd shouted. “We don’t go for revolution around here.”

  “We aren’t calling for revolution,” one of the men said.

  Pol pushed his way to the front. “Mental shields,” he said in Shira’s ear.

  She nodded as Pol looked up at the men.

  “What are you calling for, then?” Pol said. “I just arrived and would like to know.”

  “We represent the Winnow Society, and we seek a better Empire. People need to know the government can give them more.”

  “More what?” Pol asked.

  “More,” the man said.

  Pol felt the pressure of mind-control in his head.

  “More foolish talk from rebels?” he said. He looked at each man and found the magician by the surprised look on his face.

  “I said we aren’t traitors to Baccusol.”

  “Are you traitors to Hazett III?”

  “That is another matter.”

  Pol had heard enough. He froze all six men. They were immobile while Pol joined the stiff figures and stood at an empty spot between one of the boxes. He tweaked the mind-control out of the crowd.

  “These men spread sedition around the Empire. Pay them no heed. What they want is for you to trade a benevolent Hazett III for a not-so-benevolent rule by this Winnow Society, whoever they are. Go home, and we will take care of these men.”

  Pol looked out into the crowd and spotted Fadden, who must have been following. Pol put each man to sleep.

  Someone in the crowd muttered the word ‘magician,' but Pol didn’t care. Once the men were laid out, he was about to awaken one and interrogate him.

  “Don’t,” Shira said. “These men might be warded. You have to remove the wards first before you can administer a truth spell, or they might die.”

  “Something you learned at the borders?”

  Shira nodded.

  Fadden made his way to them. “I’ll run and get Malden and some soldiers.”

  “For once, I’m glad there is a chaperone,” Pol said.

  He stood with Shira looking over the men. Their clothes didn’t quite match the Galistyan style. He went through the pockets of the magician, and then he unclasped a medallion threaded through a chain around the man’s neck.

  “A symbol of the Winnow Society?”

  “I’ve never seen one of those before.”

  Pol looked at the outline of a pentagon with a scythe attached. “Nasty. It looks like they want to cut a bloody swath through the Empire.”

  “Nothing good,” Shira said. Ten soldiers arrived, accompanied by Malden and Akonai.

  “You can disburse,” Malden said. “We are removing these men.”

  They took the Winnow Society members to the stableyard of the inn and put them side-by-side in the dirt. Torches lit their faces.

  Pol looked into their skulls and found three thin rows of amber-colored wards on each brain. He waved his hand and watched them break apart and dissipate. The magician jerked quickly but remained asleep.

  “What happened?” Akonai said.

  “They were spreading mind-control while they were introducing treasonous concepts of the Winnow Society. I haven’t heard of that organization,” Pol said.

  Malden looked at Akonai with concern and then back at Pol. “Remember when you were last in Yastan? We said that there had to be magicians behind Namion Threshell and his protection ward? The culprits were the Winnow Society. We will talk more of it on the road.”

  “Grostin is working with this society? That’s all I’ll ask tonight.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Malden said. “We will keep them asleep and wake them on our journey.”

  Pol checked them for more wards, but found nothing significant. Only one man, the magician, wore the necklace that now rested in Pol’s pocket after he made sure the medallion held no wards.

  He and Shira walked inside the inn and found a secluded corner in the lobby. “The Winnowers are so blatant about their anger at the Empire. At least we know what to call them.”

  Shira nodded. “I didn’t know their name until tonight either, but I knew renegade magicians were fighting for Grostin.”

  Pol thought for a minute. “Or they are using Grostin. Like Honna, he would not need to be controlled to support what they have done so far. This is sedition.”

  Shira nodded. “Much worse than the factions have ever done in Shinkya. They play games, but this is no game, it’s an act of war.”

  ~

  Malden woke one of the men up and administered a truth spell.

  “You are a member of the Winnow Society?”

  The man nodded.

  “Were you trying to gain converts?”

  “I was. We have been very successful.”

  “Where have you found converts?” Malden asked.

  The man rattled off eleven towns. The Emperor’s magicians would have to hurry to the destinations to eliminate mind-control.

  “Are there other teams moving throughout the Empire?”

  “Many teams,” the man said.

  “How many teams are ‘many’?”

  “Eight.”

  Malden took a deep breath. “No wonder the Empire is in such bad shape. We have our work cut out.”

  “Yes, you do,” the captive said. Malden put him back to sleep.

  The magician was next.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Willow Monastery.”

  “In West Huffnya?”

  The magician nodded.

  “You are a member of the Winnow Society?”

  The magician laughed and nodded his head. “You will be consumed with the fire of righteousness.”

  “Does the Winnow Society teach religion?”

  “It does,” the magician said.

  Pol sensed a tweak coming. The man began to gag. Pol quickly put the magician to sleep. Pol looked inside and saw his esophagus crimped, closing off the flow of air.

  He found a ward sitting in the man’s chest. After Pol removed it, the man began to breathe more easily.

  “If you wake him up, he will try to kill himself,” Pol said. “He is a true believer. There was no mind-control affecting his thoughts when he activated the ward to stop his breathing.”

  The choice of death seemed too coincidental. “Could Manda be a member of the Society?” Pol said.

  “Manda? King Astor’s magician?” Malden asked.

  Pol nodded. “He taught Ako to kill a person by closing off their windpipe. The magician tried to do the same thing just now.”

  Malden looked closely at the slumbering magician. “It shows signs of swelling.”

  “I had to make it relax.”

  Malden shook his head. “If we wake him up, he’ll do the same thing.”

  “Not if he’s rest
rained,” Ako said. “We can stop his magic as long as we want, but it is a continuous tweak and is draining.”

  “You’ve seen such a thing?” Akonai said.

  “I’ve been the one restrained. Shira has seen it, too.”

  “I’ll do it,” Pol said. “Shira taught me. I want it to be a secret, so let’s move the magician to a less public place.

  ~

  The two soldiers who moved the magician stood guard outside the bedroom door. Pol tweaked the restraining spell and let Malden continue to interrogate the magician. They did not learn much new. Both men had the same information, but that didn’t necessarily mean they both spoke the truth. They might have been given the same erroneous information. Pol expressed his doubts. He put back the man back to sleep without incident.

  Everyone went to sleep. In the morning, the other four instigators yielded a consistent message. They were all from West Huffnya and strident adherents to the Winnow Society. Whoever ran the society had even twisted the original use of the monastery’s original name.

  They left first thing in the morning. Malden pushed them forward to make it to Yastan before nightfall. The day seemed to go on forever, but after the sun had set, they plodded on the paved road that led to Yastan, whose lights appeared on the horizon.

  When they finally rode into the courtyard of the Office of the Instrument, the soldiers put their captives into cells and rode off to their barracks outside the Imperial Compound.

  Pol collapsed on the bed in one of the little rooms at the Seeker’s inn, as he thought of it. He had finally returned to Yastan from Shinkya. The journey ended up much longer than he had intended, and the timing more critical, just as Karo Nagoya had claimed. Pol shook off thoughts of ‘meant to be’ and ‘destined to act’. He didn’t feel like anyone’s Great Ancestor, just a weary traveler who had finally reached his destination.

  ~~~

  Chapter Four

  ~

  A servant awakened Pol at dawn. Someone had been in his rooms and retrieved his clothing in the night, for the servant brought clean clothes to wear. He took a bath and changed. Someone had slipped a note underneath the door:

  See me as soon as you read this, Ranno.

  Pol didn’t look forward to the meeting. He left the inn and entered the administration building, halfway expecting to run into the Emperor. He paused at Ranno’s door and knocked.