by Matt Moss
“If only it were that easy,” Torin noted and looked at the floor. “I’ve heard that Maximus survived the battle with Victor, governs all of the independent cities, not just Stonebridge, and resides in Greenehaven now. I’m going to meet with him and, hopefully, gain his help in marching against Victor once more. We need the help of the free people—while they’re still free.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lyla told him.
“No. You will stay here with Joko and train the people. Get them ready. They’ve still got a long way to go.”
Lyla thought for a moment. “Do you trust him?”
“Maximus? He has the reputation of a good and just man,” Torin replied.
“But how do we know that he can be trusted? It seems everyone acts falsely these days, and it’s harder to tell what’s true and what’s not,” she stated.
Torin crossed his arms, taking in her words. “Then he better not act false with me.” He grinned at her. “I have a special power that only a few can attest for.”
Inquisitive, she leaned forward. “Oh, really? And what’s that?”
“I can see through the horse shit.”
“All shit? Or just that from a horse?” Joko asked in all seriousness. “Even I do not possess this power. You must show me.”
Torin laughed. “Ha. Sorry, baldy. There’s some things that you’re just born with, things that can’t be taught.”
The three shared a laugh, and deep down, Lyla wondered if it would be the last time they ever did.
Torin left the next morning.
SIXTEEN
The road to Greenehaven was longer than usual, though Cain and Rico made good time. It felt longer to Rico because most of the journey was made in silence. He was fine with it, feeling no need to ask Cain about why he turned coat, or what happened since the Grand Highlands.
Not like my hands aren’t as dirty as yours. Who am I to judge? Rico thought. Still, I’m only here to learn from Victor and gain more power. I owe no allegiance to him or the Religion, especially after what he’s done. I’m using him for my gain. If I have to play house pet and do your dirty work, then so be it. For now.
“We should be there soon,” Cain said.
“You don’t have to tell me. I know where we’re at,” Rico shot back.
“I was just saying, man. Damn.”
“No use to start talking now, so let’s just continue on in silence and do the job, okay?”
Cain shot him a glare, then turned his eyes back to the road that lie straight and flat in front of them. Long grass swayed gently and the air was warmer than usual for being this late in the year. He stared into the distance, lost in his thoughts as he swayed in the saddle. He turned back to Rico and opened his mouth to speak. After a second thought, he didn’t want to say anything and fixed his gaze ahead again.
“What?” Rico asked, noticing Cain wanting to say something.
“Look, we don’t have to talk about the past. Hell, it’s buried for all I care.”
“Good way of putting it. Literally, buried at the Grand Highlands. You remember that place, don’t you? Where we were all one big happy family,” Rico spat.
Cain breathed and gathered his thoughts. “I want to talk about our job. Can we do that in a civil way without ripping each other apart?”
Rico’s eyes met his, fully intending to counter with the sharp edge of his tongue. Smug little prick. You stole The Path of Man and think Victor cares more for you now? That you’re better than everyone else now? You shouldn’t have stole that book. It belongs with the Order. He sighed and looked ahead, not wanting to fight about it now. “Fine. What’s on your mind?”
“How do you feel about what we’re going to do?”
“What do you mean? We’re going to kill people who don’t take the mark and join the Religion.”
“Doesn’t that bother you just a little bit?”
“No,” Rico replied without hesitation.
“It does me.”
Rico looked at Cain and saw the face of a worried man, not wanting to kill any more. Not wanting to fight any more. He’d seen that look before. It was the same look that most men had right before they met their end by Rico’s hand. “You can turn back if you like. I can handle it alone.”
“I can’t go back. Victor would be ashamed of me,” Cain said and swallowed the lump in his throat. His face changed, turning hard as he mustered his courage. “I’ll be fine. Hey, forget I ever said anything about.”
Both men rode in silence again.
Rico turned to Cain after a span. “A piece of advice. Look at people for what they are—dogs and sheep, fit to be beat into submission, fit to be slaughtered if they don’t conform. In their ignorance, they make the world turn and give men with power a reason to live, a reason to rule.”
Cain turned to Rico. “That’s messed up. Like, really messed up.”
“It is what it is. That’s the real world. If you can’t see it, you’re as blind as the rest of them,” Rico replied and turned away, content with saying his peace.
Cain shook his head. “And I thought I was screwed up. Damn. You’ve really got a few screws loose.”
Maybe. What if I am screwed up in the head? You know nothing about it, kid. You haven’t walked in these boots no more than I have yours.
They rode the rest of the way without saying another word.
“Gentlemen, welcome to Greenehaven,” Maximus said in greeting. “Make yourself at home. Drink?” He extended his arm, displaying the fully stocked bar that was in his war room. “Hebron won’t mind.” He laughed.
“Sure. I’ll have a whiskey,” Cain said.
“Same,” Rico agreed.
“Fabulous.” Maximus poured three rounds and led them to the lounge that overlooked the city, high from the open balcony. Slaves tended to the house and offered plates of the finest meats and cheeses. “Had I known Hebron lived like this, I would have made home here a long time ago. Thank you,” he said to the slave and dismissed him with a wave. “Perhaps you two would like some pleasure before going to work?” He clapped his hands and five young, beautiful women stood by his side, dressed in scant, silk clothing.
Rico looked to Cain and raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe some other time,” Cain said. “I’d prefer we just get to business and get it over with.”
Maximus eyed Cain for a moment. “You’re in love. I can see it written all over you, plain as day. Only a man in love would refuse such a gift.”
Cain looked down and opened his mouth as if to speak. Before he could reply, Maximus waved the girls away. “Suit yourself. The offer is there if you change your mind. Right. Straight to business, then.” He stood and told everyone to get out. When the last slave left, he sat down and took a long, slow sip of his wine.
“How many are there?” Cain asked and took a drink.
Maximus settled in his seat. “Heretics? It’s hard to say since we’ve just started rounding them up. We have thirty in custody right now, but I figure the numbers to be around five thousand.”
“Five thousand people are to be killed? Are you insane? That’s nearly half the city of Greenehaven,” Cain said, his face and tone stern.
“Not nearly, but it’s a lot nonetheless. Look, I didn’t make the call,” Maximus said, holding his hands up in defense. “Take it up with the high priest if you have a problem with it.”
“So what’s the play?” Rico asked as he sat back down and poured himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle that he grabbed from the bar. Cain shot him a glare.
“We hold a public execution tomorrow for the thirty poor souls that chose to deny the Religion. Immediately afterwards, I declare marshall law and, with the help of my guards, you two will go from house to house and kill everyone who does not have the mark. Men, women, children; there will be no quarter.”
“God, Almighty,” Cain said in disbelief and looked at the ceiling. “This is insanity.” He looked to Rico for help. “Tell me this is crazy. There’s no way we can
do this. No way.”
Rico stared at him and took a long drink.
Maximus grinned. “You won’t be alone. Karn will be here, assisting the two of you. He will be in command.”
“I thought we were in command?” Rico said. “You don’t have the authority to place him in charge.”
“I didn’t place him in charge. Victor did.” Maximus stood to collect Rico’s empty glass. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Rico. I’m sure he trusts that you two are more than capable to handle the job. He just likes to hedge his bets to produce the best outcome for all.”
Cain shot the drink down, leaned back in his seat, and shook his head.
As Maximus poured another round for each of them, a knock came at the door and a guard entered. “Sir, a guest by the name of Torin is here.”
Rico and Cain immediately stood up. Maximus saw their reaction and grinned. “It’s alright.” He stood and addressed the guard. “See him in.”
“Sir,” the guard saluted and left.
“Shit. What do we do?” Cain asked Rico with urgency. Rico’s eyes glossed over as he stared into his glass.
Maximus stepped to them. “This would be a good time to leave. I’ll see you two in the morning, bright and early.” He winked and ushered them out the back door. “My servants will see you out and provide rooms for your stay.” After they left, Maximus walked to the balcony and looked down on the people. His eye went to the arena that was being erected after the last one was destroyed, pleased that it was nearing completion. He watched the countless men work with rope and pulley and lever, fitting the stones into place one by one until, once again, a knock came at the door. He turned around, combed his hair back with his hands, and stood tall. “You may enter.”
“Sir, Torin of the Grand Highlands,” the guard said, bowed, then left the two men in peace.
“Torin of the Grand Highlands. A good title to go with a strong name. I am truly sorry for the loss of your home.”
Torin walked into the room. “Hello, Maximus. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Maximus nodded in greeting. “And you, as well. I’ve heard much about you and the Order. I’m sure you have aided the independent cities in the past and none were the wiser for it. I owe you my thanks, I suppose.”
Torin waved him off. “At one time, yes. But the Order is out in the open now. No more secrets,” Torin stated and looked around the room. His eyes went to the three glasses of whiskey that sat on the table, all of them nearly filled. “I’m not interrupting company, am I?” he asked and looked to Maximus.
“Just a little mid-day rendezvous with a feisty brunette and a pretty blonde. Nothing that can’t wait for another time,” Maximus said with a wink and walked to the table. He offered Torin one of the glasses and took one for himself. Torin took it in thanks. “So, tell me, Torin of the Grand Highlands. What brings you to Greenehaven?”
Torin took a drink and looked at the glass with appreciation, savoring the flavor. He pointed at Maximus and nodded, then walked to the balcony to overlook the city. Maximus eyed him, curious, and walked to stand beside him. Torin drained the glass and spoke. “I need your help.”
“And I am here to help. How can I be of assistance?”
Torin turned to him. “I’m raising an army to march against Victor and the Religion. But we can’t do it alone. We need the might of the independent cities. Together, we will crush him and put an end to the Religion once and for all.”
Maximus frowned. “There is no stopping him. I’ve tried already and lost.”
“What happened? I heard reports that the war was won. Victor was on the retreat.”
Maximus stared into the distance as he spoke. “His army was defeated, yes. I thought the battle was won after seeing him retreat, and sent most of my army back to the independent cities. I kept a sizable group of men with me to give chase and end him once and for all.” He went silent, and his face turned to horror as he relived the memory. Torin furrowed his brow and waited. After collecting himself, Maximus resumed. “I engaged the high priest. And he slaughtered all of my men like dogs.” His eyes gazed into Torin’s. “I don’t expect you to believe my next words.”
“Try me.”
“A power I’ve never seen—never knew existed—decimated my men. Lightning appeared from his hands and struck every man down in troves. Among the fallen, he left me standing alone and afraid. A stone appeared from his pocket, glowing and pulsing with light.”
“A soul stone,” Torin noted.
“He told me that it was just a small one. That he possessed a much larger one in Kingsport—one with enough power to destroy the world. And he promised he would use it if I ever marched against him again. Then, he left.”
“Impossible. There’s not a stone that could contain such a power. Even if there was, there isn’t a soul alive that’s strong enough to wield it,” Torin stated. “He’s scared and alone. He fears that you could be his end and tells lies to preserve himself. Don’t believe them.”
Maximus looked into Torin’s eyes with hope and inspiration. They fell, helpless, and he shook his head. “I won’t risk it. I know what I saw and it scares me to death. We’re talking about the end of days here, Torin.”
“The end of days,” Torin said and snapped his head away, spitting the words out. “I’ve heard that shit since I was born. So did my father, and his before that, and his before that. And guess what? It hasn’t happened yet. It never will.”
“You don’t believe in prophecy then?”
Torin didn’t answer. He walked to the edge of the balcony and looked into the street. “What’s that they’re building down there? Next to the arena.”
“Gallows. There’s to be an execution tomorrow.”
“For what? That’s big enough to hang ten men at a time.”
“For denying the Religion.”
Torin turned to Maximus in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” Maximus looked down in shame. “But you are the commanding governor of the independent cities! In all the world, this would be the last place where I would think this could happen. The free folk won’t stand for this.”
“Tomorrow, the free folk will be hunted down and executed if they do not hold the mark of the Religion. By orders of the high priest, and by the hand of the new Order that he commands.”
“New Order? Then for the love of God, stand and fight. If there ever was a time, it’s now, Maximus. Can’t you see? There won’t be an independent city left, and freedom will be nothing more than a faint memory in the minds of old men. Lead the people and let’s march to war. I will bring all the power that the Order commands to fight alongside you. You have my word.”
Maximus snapped his gaze to Torin. “I told you already, I can’t. My hands are tied. I won’t have the fate of the world on my conscience.”
“He’s lying to you!” Torin pleaded. “Please, don’t let this happen. If you do, he’s won and there’s no stopping him. Please.”
“If I even lay a finger on any member of the new Order, he will know and my people will suffer the consequences. I can’t fight him. I’m sorry.” Maximus walked to the bar and poured another drink for the two of them.
Torin stormed by him. “Save it,” he said. He stopped at the door. “You’re going to need it.”
“What are you going to do?” Maximus asked.
“Somebody has to fight,” Torin said and left the governor to himself.
Maximus grinned to himself and raised a glass to Torin.
SEVENTEEN
Lucian led the way through the city of Kingsport, and Arkin followed.
They kept to the shadows, entering the capital at night so not to be seen. Anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path was knocked unconscious before they could even blink. Given his reputation, Arkin was surprised that Lucian didn’t just kill them. Then figured that a dead body gave far more alarm than an unconscious one that could be thought of as drunk.
The river proved impassable due to a heavier pre
sence of guards, so Lucian opted for a different route and guided them through the maze of shops and homes that comprised Kingsport. Most of the city was fast asleep in the early morning hours, but the capital city never truly slept. There were always those who lived for the night.
“Almost there,” he told Arkin as they darted across a dark street and into another alleyway. Arkin remembered the smell and the sights—they were in the outer city. The last time he was here, a gang of children tried to kill him. Didn’t think I’d ever be back here, Arkin thought.
Recalling his last visit, his thoughts turned to Jenny, and he wondered how she was doing. He hoped she and the kids were alright.
Three shadows appeared in the alley in front of them, blocking the way. At least two of them were carrying a bludgeon of some sort—one resting the weapon on their shoulder, the other slapping the club against their hand. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” one of them said. Arkin prepared to draw his sword.
“Fresh meat,” another shadow stated.
“I don’t think so,” Lucian replied. A blinding lunge and five seconds later, all three men were lying on the cold, hard ground. Unconscious but still alive. Lucian dropped one of the clubs to the ground, and it gave a dull rattle before settling next to its owner.
“You could have saved me one,” Arkin said as he walked up to Lucian.
“Save your strength. You’ll need it when you meet with your mother.” They started down the alley, but stopped when a group of lost children walked by. They gave one look at the three men on the ground, saw Lucian and Arkin, and kept moving, searching for easier prey.
“Why didn’t they come at us?” Arkin asked. “It’s too dark for them to know who we are.”
“Kids are smarter than they seem. They have a natural intuition that keeps them alive, such as sensing a threat and knowing when to run. It’s a pity that when they grow up, their sense of self worth and pride clouds that innate feeling, and many men who claim to be brave all meet the same, sad end.” Lucian pulled the hood back over his head. “Let’s keep moving.”