The Heresy Within

by Rob J. Hayes

  A polite cough from beside Thanquil brought him out of his reverie and he found the Imperial messenger grinning at him. “Impressive isn't it?”

  Thanquil thought he should have found something clever to say, or something fearful that reminded the messenger that he was talking to an Arbiter but his mind was still stuck in awe of the palace.

  The man-boy started walking again and Thanquil fell in beside him, trying not to stare upwards at the impossibly tall building looming over him. He tried to focus on the ground, on the messenger, on the guards and staff, on anything and found himself looking around in desperation for something to steal. He needed to calm his nerves; the grandeur of the palace had spooked him for some reason. He felt as out of place here as a cat underwater.

  They stopped at the main entrance just long enough for the messenger to have a word with the guards and then they were off again. The man-boy beside Thanquil with his close cropped blonde hair and pale fluff on his top lip just kept talking but Thanquil wasn't listening. He was observing the route, watching for small items, something that could fit in his pockets.

  He passed expensive-looking paintings depicting some historic event or other, vases of obvious supreme craftsmanship, gaudy red carpets that looked like blood on the white marble floor, lanterns with cases of gold or silver fixed into the walls, and he passed guards. Thanquil had never seen so many guards and all of them watched him from underneath their visored helms. If he hadn't been suitably daunted before he was now.

  After a while the messenger stopped in front a large unassuming door of heavy wood with two guards in full, white enamelled plate either side. The messenger asked Thanquil to wait and then opened the door, disappeared inside and shut the door after him. The guards watched Thanquil. It was a shame, he was sure he could have stolen something here if not for those eight eyes following his every movement.

  “You must be hot,” he said to the guards as a unit, not picking any one in particular. There was no answer, not even a grunt. “I mean Sarth is a hot city and the palace, while obviously well ventilated, is still on the warm side and there you stand encased in metal. You must be sweating under there.”

  Silence.

  Thanquil paced. Four sets of eyes followed him. He realised he was still wearing his sword. If he was to see the Emperor of Sarth they would have insisted he turn his sword in.

  The door opened again and two servants and two guards filed out followed by the imperial messenger with the fluffy top lip.

  “You may enter now, Arbiter Darkheart,” the messenger said and stood aside.

  With suspicious caution Thanquil walked into the room and looked about. The door shut behind him and it took all of his will power not to jump for the ceiling. Inside the room was beautiful. Austere rugs decorated the shining white floor; ornate bookshelves lined the walls each with its own collection of books and scrolls. A huge unlit hearth with a painting of the imperial palace hung above it seemed a bit indulgent but looked grand all the same. Giant glass windows at the far end of the room allowed light to stream in and there, sitting in front of them, was the God-Emperor.

  On a throne with golden hair spilling down past his shoulders and a severe look that pulled his features into the very definition of imperial majesty the God-Emperor looked down upon Thanquil. He'd heard the Emperor was tall at over seven foot but even sat down the man looked like a giant. He wore a suit of white and gold that seemed to accentuate his muscular figure and he leaned just a little to the right, giving the impression of being relaxed. It was hard to believe that such a regal looking figure was a poor farm boy working a field outside of Sarth just four years ago. The throne seemed to suit him as if it had been made around him. Perhaps it had, the man sat unmoving and looked like a statue of some great hero from ages past.

  “You kept me waiting, Arbiter,” the Emperor said from the throne, his mouth moved but the rest of him kept as still as stone. Thanquil realised he was the only other person in the room. It seemed strange but all the Emperor's guards, all his servants had been ordered outside.

  “My apologies, your majesty. I thought it best to present myself properly,” Thanquil responded with a bow of his head.

  “My man tells me you stopped to bathe while he waited. I didn't invite you here to smell you, Arbiter.”

  “Invite,” Thanquil mused aloud. “It felt more like an order.”

  “It was.”

  The silence that erupted into the room was horrific. Thanquil could hear his own breathing, could hear every creak of his leathers underneath his coat, could hear the scuff of his boots on the floor as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and all the while the Emperor stared at him. Thanquil glanced around the room again. There, no more than five foot away was a small table with black cloth on top and one of the largest and most impressive collections of runes Thanquil had ever seen. Each one was carved into a token of brittle wood ready to be snapped at a moment's notice to release the power contained within the rune. Thanquil had to resist the urge to walk over and take one. Stealing from the God-Emperor was bad enough but to do so right in front of the man would be considered horribly rude.

  “I've heard a lot about you, Arbiter.”

  “I doubt much of it good.” Thanquil could feel his hand shaking in his pocket.

  “No indeed,” the Emperor continued. “Most of it was quite damning.”

  Thanquil couldn't think of a response to that so he just kept quiet.

  “I hear you were the one that found my sword.”

  That much was true. Thanquil had recovered the sword known as 'Siege Breaker'. A sword forged of magic and metal, with blessings inscribed into the steel. A sword fit for an Emperor the Inquisition had decreed and had gifted it to Emperor Francis on his inauguration.

  “I would very much like to hear the story of how you came upon it, Arbiter Darkheart.”

  “Not much to tell, your majesty. I bought it from a travelling merchant.”

  “Did the man realise what it was he carried?”

  “Yes, your majesty. He specialised in such items.”

  “Where did you find this merchant of curios?”

  Thanquil winced. “The Land of the Dead.”

  The Emperor smiled and the atmosphere in the room seemed lighter. “Interesting,” he said as he stood and turned, moving to stare out of one of the huge glass windows.

  Thanquil took the opportunity to pad across to the table holding the runes and pocket one before returning to his original position. He felt better, the shaking stopped and he could concentrate again.

  “Must have been an interesting man indeed to be travelling those lands unmolested,” the Emperor continued.

  “In truth, your majesty, I can't be sure he was a man at all. Not sure what it was but it sold me the blade all the same.”

  “Heh,” the Emperor grunted and then fell silent for a while. Thanquil kept quiet also. He was now well aware that he was in a room with one of the two most powerful people in all of Sarth and Thanquil didn't trust himself not to anger the Emperor somehow.

  “I'm going to ask a favour of you, Arbiter Darkheart but first I think you have a question for me don't you?”

  Thanquil felt it then. The compulsion was tugging at him, trying to tear the words from his mouth. It was a physical need to answer the question. His mouth opened and his lips began to move, forming the words. But Thanquil was no commoner without knowledge of the compulsion; he was an Arbiter of the Inquisition, trained in the use of magic and with twenty years of experience. He forced his mouth shut, swallowed the words back down and forced his mind to calm.

  “How did you do that?” Thanquil demanded of one of the most powerful men in Sarth. He threw the entire strength of his own compulsion along with the question. It felt like trying to break down a door with a sponge. The Emperor turned and smiled.

  “I'm sorry to do that to you but I had to make sure. Ask your question.”

  Thanquil sighed, he felt tired, exhausted even but determi
ned not to show it. “Are you really Volmar reborn? Are you really our God in human form?”

  “The Inquisition, the council of Inquisitors has declared I am.”

  “I didn't ask what the council has declared,” Thanquil said, determined to get his answer.

  “Does it matter I wonder? If I say I am Volmar reborn would you believe me? How would I prove such a thing?”

  Thanquil thought about it, came up blank. “So you won't answer.”

  “My answer is this, Arbiter Darkheart. It doesn't matter if the council says I am Volmar. It doesn't matter if I say I am Volmar. What matters is whether or not you believe I am Volmar.”

  “Well I imagine a God would speak in such riddles,” Thanquil said and the Emperor burst into laughter that even made Thanquil smile.

  “I believe the Inquisition has been infiltrated, Thanquil,” the Emperor said, his voice solemn. It didn't go unnoticed by Thanquil that they were now on first name terms.

  “I'm not sure I understand, your majesty.”

  “Evil, heresy, dark magics, maybe even demons. Who knows?”

  “Demons are gone from this world,” Thanquil pointed out. “Volmar saw to that when he first created the Inquisition so many thousands of years ago.”

  “Two thousand four hundred and ninety years ago to be exact but demons are not gone. Not all of them. In any case I believe the Inquisition has been infiltrated, a part of it corrupted and I believe the culprit to be sitting on the council.”

  That was more than just an accusation. From anyone else it would be considered heresy but could the man the Inquisition had decreed to be their own God reborn be capable of heresy? The very idea of it made Thanquil's head hurt despite the charm he wore around his neck to prevent such maladies.

  “That is...” Thanquil searched for the right word, “an incredible accusation, your majesty.”

  “It's not an accusation. For an accusation I would need proof.”

  “Which, of course, you don't have.”

  The Emperor nodded, his bright blue eyes seeming darker and worried. Thanquil paced, mindless of the company, as he considered what to do. Should he confess the Emperor's accusation to the council? It would be the wisest of things to do but what if the Emperor was right?

  “I want you to find me proof, Arbiter.”

  “Hah! I'll just go and interrogate all twelve members of the council then.” Thanquil stopped himself from saying more. “Sorry, your majesty. I have neither the right nor the power to question to the council, perhaps if you...”

  “The Emperor of Sarth cannot be seen to distrust the Inquisition. To do so would undermine its power throughout the world. I need you to go and find proof, discretely, and bring it back to me so I can make a move to put a stop to this.”

  “Why me?” Thanquil asked. “Half of the Inquisition seems to think I'm guilty of heresy myself.”

  “That's exactly why I've chosen you, Thanquil. You're considered an outsider, you go where you please and you're known for... sometimes travelling off the beaten path.”

  Thanquil rolled it around his head. It was a no win situation for him. If he turned the request down and the Emperor was right than the entire Inquisition could well be destroyed from the inside. If he agreed to the request the best that could happen was he would save the Inquisition and be punished for going outside of the Inquisition’s rules to do so, the worst that could happen involved him being tried for heresy himself.

  “Because I'm expendable,” Thanquil mused to himself. The God-Emperor didn't deny it, just looked away. As much a confirmation as ever Thanquil had witnessed.

  “What exactly is it you want me to do?” Thanquil found himself asking.

  “My sources have brought me a name; a man somewhere in the untamed wilds by the name of Gregor H'ost. He is connected somehow. I need you to go to the wilds and find him, if he can't provide proof make him tell you who can.”

  “The wilds are a bit outside of my jurisdiction, your majesty. I operate within Acanthia and the Five Kingdoms.”

  The Emperor smiled. “Not a problem. Thank you, Thanquil. I'll not forget this.”

  With that the Emperor turned again and stared out of the window, dismissing Thanquil with his back. Thanquil bowed and walked to the door. He turned once; the Emperor was still standing by the window. Thanquil pushed open the door and walked through it.

  Outside the guards and the servants and the messenger with the fluffy top lip were standing waiting but with them stood another single looking figure.

  Thanquil nodded once. “Arbiter Vance.”

  Vance nodded once in return. “Arbiter Darkheart.”

  Crushing silence descended. Again Thanquil nodded. “Glad we had this talk.” With that he stalked off, the fluffy lipped messenger struggling to catch up to lead him out of the palace.

  No sooner had Thanquil stepped foot into the Inquisition compound another messenger appeared in front of him. He wanted nothing so much as to find a dark corner to sit in and mull over what the Emperor had told him. It did not feel like an easy task he had been given. First he had to find a way to the untamed wilds. He was certain there would be boats leaving from Sarth to trade with the free cities in the wilds but it was a long journey and long sea journeys were never safe. Pirates were the major problem, with violent sea storms coming in a close second and Thanquil was never sure whether to believe stories about giant sea serpents.

  “Arbiter...”

  “Yes, you have a message,” Thanquil finished for the man.

  “From the council.” The messenger did not seem cowed by Thanquil's snap. “They demand your presence.”

  “That's why I'm here.”

  “Immediately.”

  “Of course.” Thanquil was already starting to regret waking up this morning. First a private meeting with the Emperor of Sarth and now his interview with the council of Inquisitors. Thanquil couldn't think of a way the day could get any stranger. Plenty of ways it could still get worse though.

  Kosh was on duty, guarding the outer doors to the council chambers. He stood at ease but his hands rested on the shafts of his twin scythes and Thanquil knew first-hand how dangerous he was with such weapons, even more so when enhanced by blessings. His friend grinned as he saw Thanquil approaching.

  “Hangover cure?” Kosh asked.

  “Around my neck.”

  “I hear you've had a busy day.”

  “News travels fast here.”

  “Good luck in there.”

  The halls that led to the council chambers couldn't have been more different from the imperial palace. No carpets graced the cold stone here and Thanquil's footsteps rang out loud and clear and echoed around the bare black walls. No decorations of any kind in this hall. No grand paintings with gilded frames, no priceless vases, only the occasional torch sputtering in the constant and cold draft. It felt like entering a dungeon or walking to his own execution. Neither were endearing thoughts.

  Then Thanquil was at the inner doors to the council chambers. Two Arbiters stood guard by the doors, neither of which Thanquil recognised. The guards nodded for him to enter and Thanquil pushed open the doors and stepped through, they shut behind him with an ominous ‘bang’.

  The Inquisitor council chambers were built in a circle with a pit in the centre for the subject and raised seating behind a waist high barrier for the Inquisitors. All was built out of cold grey stone, lifeless and dull and lit by a hundred torches positioned around the room. The torches somehow managed to project most of their light towards the pit making it hard for Thanquil to see to the Inquisitor's seating. He heard the shuffling of robes and the scuffing of arses kissing chairs and he waited, making sure to look nowhere in particular.

  “Arbiter Thanquil Darkheart,” came a voice he recognised as belonging to Inquisitor Aurelus. Thanquil bowed his head and waited.

  “Here you will answer for your crimes,” another voice, this one from behind and belonging to a woman; either Inquisitor Heron or Inquisitor Downe. />
  Thanquil waited for a moment and then started. All wandering Arbiters such as himself were required to present themselves in front of the council every three years and present a list of their crimes and, if need be, explain themselves before the Inquisitors. The Inquisitors would then determine whether or not the Arbiter had been corrupted by the influences of the world outside. Thanquil didn't want to think of the consequences if they decided he had been corrupted.

  His list wasn't long. Most of it consisted of petty theft and of those there were too many to name them all, too many to remember them all and the Inquisitors were not bothered about such crimes. There were a few instances of murder, most justified, one accidental but unavoidable. Two incidents of abusing his position as an Arbiter for personal gain, while such crimes were not heresy they did earn heavy punishments but Thanquil felt justified. The gain was not monetary and in both cases had occurred because he had run out of money and had used the fear of the Inquisition as a way of extorting free rooms in two different inns.

  Through it all the Inquisitors listened and said nothing. Thanquil felt the weight of so many eyes upon him but he had been through all this before and he knew they would not punish him for his crimes. It was much more likely they'd punish him for being him.

  “You have passed, Arbiter Darkheart,” this was the unmistakeable voice of Grand Inquisitor Artur Vance. Thanquil squinted up towards the voice. The man looked old but that was not surprising, one hundred and fifty years was old even by Inquisitor standards and by all accounts Inquisitor Vance had passed that mark more than a few years ago. He still looked to be in good health though, and strong as an ox, which only went to further prove how powerful the Grand Inquisitor was.

  Thanquil had heard the stories, read the history during his initiate training, and he knew the Grand Inquisitor's past as well as any Arbiter. The man was a hero. He had saved the Inquisition in its darkest hour.