Chains of the Heretic

by Jeff Salyards

  “I heard there was some trouble brewing this morning. Serious?”

  “No, sir. A protest over fruit prices or some such thing. Turned a little ugly, and the City Watch needed a bit of help. Useless bastards, one and all. The Watch, I mean. And the Thurvacians, so long as we’re counting idiots. But we cut down the leader and the rest dispersed quick enough. Still, I’m thinking the sooner Emperor Cynead rides back into the city the better.”

  The lieutenant was smiling again. “Go clean yourselves up. Get some wine.” He looked at his charges. “You see. Stupidity begets stupidity, and power begets power. And some of you were grumbling things might be too easy for the Leopards now.” He laughed. “Once you take the noose, we will be invading and civilizing some new part of the world, or putting down foolish rebellions on our very own doorstep. There is always action to be had.”

  Both parties kept moving in their opposite directions.

  My exhaustion was getting the better of me—I had a moment of giddy relief that Braylar hadn’t tried the unsuccessful “quills merchant” stratagem a third time.

  We passed other soldiers or servants a few more times, and while our somewhat battered appearance raised eyebrows, it didn’t raise alarms. We encountered one group of Leopards who appeared equally bloodied and unkempt and who likely had actually been quelling some small uprising in the streets, or fighting off Jackals, disguised or otherwise.

  Every time we saw anyone else, I held my breath and kept my eyes on Vendurro’s back, and in each instance, we made it by unaccosted.

  We left the main corridor and its heavier traffic behind and walked down some narrower halls and I was thankful everyone else was familiar with the layout or I would have gotten hopelessly lost.

  We took a right turn and headed into a broader hall filled with magnificent murals depicting the emperors who had occupied the Sun Citadel since it was built, with their blazonry split between suns and the charge of their particular Tower that they hailed from. I thought for a moment we might be heading to the throne room or a great hall, both of which would mean a lot more Leopards about and the chances of us escaping notice or questioning dwindling. Then I saw ahead that there were a number of guards in resplendent scaled cuirasses of gold and black guarding the stairwell to a tower.

  As we walked closer, Braylar spoke quietly, “Sister, though this is not in your bailiwick, I suggest you look as docile and broken as possible.”

  Soffjian replied, “I am filthy, have lost a great deal of blood, and hope to remain conscious long enough to make all this worth it. It is not what one would really call a stretch.”

  “Very well,” he replied. “And you other ‘prisoners,’ do your best to look defeated as well. Even you, Azmorgon. Though perhaps belligerent and irreverent will work in your case.”

  “Plaguing right it will,” Azmorgon said.

  When the party halted in front of the three steps and oak doors to the entrance of the tower, a Leopard with a gold and black plume stepped forward and addressed us. “State your business.”

  As agreed upon and to deflect any attention away from Thumaar, Braylar stepped forward. “We have apprehended a rogue Memoridon. She needs to be returned to the frame now.”

  The Leopard squinted as he looked at Soffjian, then seemed to recognize her. “This the one from the Jackal Tower?”

  “The very same,” Braylar replied.

  “Who’s the other then?” he asked, pointing at Nustenzia.

  “Another from the Jackals, an initiate. This one escaped from their Tower. Seems they are all deserters there. And I have orders to return her to the frame immediately.”

  The Leopard was still eyeing Soffjian warily, as if he expected her to attack him with memory magic at any moment. “The Emperor’s not here. And even if he was, I didn’t hear anything about taking any rogue Memoridons to the frame.”

  “The Emperor’s presence isn’t required,” the captain said. “Her sisters in the tower will deal with her. But she has to be returned immediately. Those were the orders. She cannot risk being separate much longer or she might just fall dead. And while I would be glad to see it, her sisters will want to put her to the question. Do you want to answer to the Emperor for allowing her to die right on the verge of entering? Because that won’t be on me. You can be sure if my prisoner dies because you delayed, the Emperor will hear of it.”

  The Leopard looked uncertain, about to relent even, but then said, “I’ll need to verify this, Sergeant. Protocol is all. I don’t allow anyone up without express permission, and all I have is your word. And if that means your prisoner dies while we wait, well, I reckon we’ll deal with that as it comes, won’t we?”

  I heard an all-too familiar voice from behind me and had to resist spinning around. “So, you have her then?”

  Skeelana walked to the front of our group, smaller than everyone, including Rudgi, a pewter Sun and Leopard badge on the ash gray doublet she wore, the rings in her nose and ears catching the light. She stopped alongside Soffjian. “I’d heard you were apprehended but didn’t really dare to believe it. Part of me hoped you’d escaped, I won’t deny it. And part of me really just wanted to see the look on your face when we were reunited, and you saw just how badly you had miscalculated.” Skeelana smiled crookedly. “And now that we are here together, it doesn’t disappoint in the slightest. So rare when reality lives up to expectation, isn’t it?”

  Soffjian looked unsteady on her feet.

  Skeelana ignored her and addressed the captain of the tower guard. “Let these troops through immediately, you imbecile. My sisters need to see this Memoridon right now.”

  The captain in gold and black hesitated, then said, “Fine. But these other prisoners got no reason to go. They stay. Leave the guards behind. The rest can go.”

  Braylar said, “Very good.” He then assigned a split of Eagles and Jackals to remain behind with Azmorgon and the other “prisoners.”

  The Leopard captain looked over his shoulder. “Tell them to unlock the door.”

  One of the soldiers behind him rapped his knuckles on the thick door five times, and we heard wood scraping, and then the tumblers of the lock clinking loudly. The double wooden doors opened out, and the Leopards stepped aside as we entered. There were two soldiers inside who looked over each of us as we filed past, then dropped the broad beam back in the brackets behind us and turned the large key to lock the doors again.

  Skeelana walked ahead of us down a dimly lit hallway as Braylar led us forward, with his “Leopards” in tow. I hadn’t sensed the phantom smell Skeelana projected to me when we were trying to evade Imperial pursuit, so I was stunned she was here now walking among us, a dozen conflicting thoughts in my head, a third of them bloody.

  We rounded a corner, and everyone remained silent until we’d gone far enough to be out of earshot of the guards at the door. We were nearly to the stairs when Skeelana started to turn around, but then Mulldoos was there, lurching, hunched a bit, not dexterous, but still fast, his suroka pressed against the Memoridon’s throat.

  He said, “One reason. Give me one reason why I’m not to slit this skinny throat right plaguing now. Got to be one, but having a real plaguing hard time seeing it.”

  Braylar put his hand on the lieutenant’s big shoulder. “The reason is singular but compelling. We are in the tower of the frame. Without her and a battering ram, we would not be.”

  “Ayyup,” Mulldoos said, still not moving the blade, “Got that much. But how? Why? I see a turncoat twat who needs to be offed. That’s what I plaguing see.”

  Skeelana raised both hands slowly, licking her plump lips. “There are many of us—Memoridons, I mean—who didn’t exactly appreciate being stolen. Darzaak wasn’t the only Commander who didn’t abuse us, who valued us.”

  Mulldoos reached up with his free hand and grabbed a handful of her dark hair. “You betrayed us. Led them straight to us, you little lying cunt. Straight. To us. You expect me to buy that you had a change of heart? Again?”r />
  Skeelana looked him in the eye. “Cynead gave me a choice. Death, or spy on you lot. Forgive me if I erred on the side of self-preservation. But I always hoped we could undo what that bastard did. And when Soffjian helped you escape . . . I knew what she was up to. Thought I did, anyway. So yes, I led them close enough to you that they didn’t execute me for abetting, but tried to buy you as much time as I could.”

  Her eyes darted to me. “I sensed you were in Sunwrack yesterday.” And then back to Mulldoos. “I could have informed the Leopards. Could have led them directly to you and had you in real shackles if I had a mind to. But I reached out to Soffjian instead. So let me ask you, Lieutenant, does that seem like the sort of thing your enemy would truly do? Does it?”

  Braylar still had his arm on Mulldoos’s shoulder. “Soffjian told me the moment it happened. That Skeelana contacted her.”

  Mulldoos turned and glared at the captain. “And you didn’t think it’d be a decent idea to share that little plaguing development with your officers?”

  Braylar nodded towards the deposed emperor. “Like you, Lieutenant, I am but a humble soldier following orders.”

  Thumaar stepped forward, “Drop the blade, Lieutenant. You want to bark a complaint at anyone, direct it to me. But after. We have to move. Now. Despite her unexpected aid, those guards might still follow up. We have little time or less.”

  Mulldoos slowly pulled his suroka back and slid it in the scabbard.

  We kept walking down the hallway, and I found Rudgi looking at me with an unreadable expression that might have been curiosity, irritation, confusion, disgust, or some other womanly face that was certain to remain a mystery to me.

  “What?” I asked.

  She jerked a thumb at Skeelana. “That’s the one who made your knees turn to sand, so helpless you just had to kiss her?”

  Hot in the face and neck, I replied, “I wouldn’t describe it like that. But yes, that’s the one I kissed.”

  Rudgi looked straight ahead again, grinning. “Huh. Figured her for a stately beauty. But it’s clear you like shorties.”

  That was the extent of it before we reached the end of the hall and stopped in front of a set of spiral stairs.

  Skeelana looked at Braylar. “Unless Cynead renovated last night, there is only one floor, several stories up. This is more minaret than tower. The frame is on that floor.”

  Thumaar addressed the Memoridons. “In my day, we kept a contingent of guards up there, as well as a war Memoridon. Has anything changed?”

  “Yes,” Skeelana said. “The frame is guarded by several martial Memoridons now. Four, possibly five. There are guards as well, perhaps double that, but the Memoridons will be the real trouble.”

  “Always plaguing are,” Mulldoos growled, before turning to the captain. “What’s the play, Cap?”

  Braylar pulled Bloodsounder off his belt. “We cannot risk Soffjian. And I am the only one who has any immunity to them. I don’t know if I can withstand four or five of them at once, or for how long, but I will attack them first, take out those I can and draw the attention of the others. The rest of you eliminate the guards and cut down any remaining Memoridons.”

  “Bold move, Cap. If you want to be dead right quick. Even if the Memoridons aren’t enough to overwhelm you, the guards’ll cut you down before you cross the room to wet that flail.”

  Nustenzia said, “I understand why Soffjian must conserve her strength. But why not have this one—Skeelana, was it?—use me to amplify her power and take out your enemies in the room? I have no wish to aid in your bloodshed, but no wish to die either.”

  Skeelana replied, “That’s not really what I do.”

  “What is it you do, then?” Nustenzia asked, sounding mystified.

  “Besides shank her allies in the back, you mean?” Mulldoos said. “Not a plaguing thing.”

  Soffjian said, “Skeelana is no offensive weapon, it’s true. But she is excellent at obfuscation. She could use Nustenzia for that, confuse the Memoridons long enough for Braylar to close and dispatch them. With Nustenzia, any illusion you create will be absolute. At least long enough for us to enter and wreak havoc. That should be coverage enough for Braylar to approach them.” She looked at Mulldoos and Rudgi. “And while it might have been a while since you shot anything besides a crossbow, I trust you still remember how to use a composite bow.”

  Mulldoos looked down at the quiver on his hip as if it contained snakes. “Probably no better than the scribbler here. Been a long time. Now’s no time to practice. I’m thinking once you rattle their cages, Cap can lay into the Memoridons before they take out the lot of us, and we’ll follow close, take any guards out hand to hand.”

  Thumaar had been listening quietly but reasserted his command. “We have it then. Skeelana, you will get them to unbar the door, with the same scheme that got us here. Nustenzia, you will be clasping hands or whatever it is you need to do to aid her. Create whatever illusion you see fit to allow the captain to enter and see to the Leopard Mems. The rest of us will eliminate the guards. My boys have no lack of experience with bows. They will fall back and plunk the Mems until the captain closes, then switch to melee. Questions?”

  Skeelana raised her hand and looked at the older woman. “Nustenzia, is it? How exactly will you assist me?”

  Nustenzia replied, “I will grab hold of you, and you can draw on me, as you would a well. Pull up the power you need.”

  Skeelana wrinkled her nose as if the notion were distasteful, or possibly just foreign. “Is there a . . . limit? Do I need to take care not to draw too much?”

  “No,” Nustenzia said with her haughty smile. “I am the Focus of a Grand Wielder.”

  “I have no earthly idea what that means,” Skeelana said. “But I am sure it is mighty impressive.”

  Nustenzia frowned. “It means the well is not limitless, but it is too deep for you to threaten the bottom. I can assist you and Soffjian without worry.”

  Skeelana said, “If Soffjian vouches for you, that’s enough for me.”

  Thumaar looked around, nostrils flaring on his narrow nose, eyes fever bright. “Other questions?”

  No one said anything.

  “Good.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “May the gods of old preserve us, aid us, and help us rectify the wrongs brought on by false emperor Cynead, so that we can pave the way for their own rightful return, expunge the false god who has risen in their place.”

  Thumaar opened his eyes and abruptly started up the stairs as Braylar, Skeelana, and Nustenzia hurried to catch up, with the rest of us following them.

  They reached the landing, which was large enough to accommodate most of our small group, with the remainder on the steps just below.

  Skeelana looked everywhere around us, head pivoting with excruciating slowness, seemingly taking in each stone, crevice, crack, and shadow, just as she had in the streets of Alespell before working her weir skills on the Hornmen.

  Mulldoos whispered as guttural as a whisper could be. “Get on with it, witch.”

  Soffjian hissed, “She is preparing, you fool. Do you actually want to survive this? If so, shut your mouth and let her be.”

  Skeelana continued examining methodically, then finally looked at Nustenzia. “You’re sure this will work?”

  The older woman nodded, tight-lipped, as she grabbed Skeelana’s hand. Then Skeelana looked at the rest of us and quietly said, “Don’t move. Not a one of you. I will have a difficult enough time making the illusion stick without interference. Understood?”

  If Thumaar and Braylar rankled at being addressed that way, they gave no indication, maybe respecting her abilities even if the captain was itching to take off half her skull with Bloodsounder.

  Soffjian was alongside Skeelana and looked down at her. “I didn’t harry you before, but I’d suggest hurrying now,” she said, her face drawn and pale, the lightning-bolt vein blue on her sweaty forehead. “If I fall over it won’t matter how elegant the illusion you wrought.�
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  Some of the Eagles disguised as Leopards had their bows out already, arrows nocked, but hadn’t drawn yet. All the other soldiers had their weapons in hand and had moved to the side away from the hatch in the middle of the door. Soffjian and Skeelana would be the only ones immediately visible to whoever looked out.

  Skeelana knocked six times, two quick knocks followed by four spaced out more evenly.

  The panel opened from the other side and a woman’s face appeared, bronze and harsh-looking. “Skeelana. You are . . . unexpected. Early. The check-in is in tenday. It has not been a tenday. This has been explained. What is it?”

  Skeelana looked up at the open panel. “Is it? I have such a difficult time keeping track of these things. But that isn’t the reason for my little visit.”

  The Memoridon on the other side wasn’t amused. “You might be the Emperor’s little pet just now, but that carries no weight with us. Be quick about it or be gone—what do you need?”

  Skeelana replied, “Direct. I appreciate that. But speaking of Emperor Cynead, you might recall he sent his little pet out into the wild to track down some deserters. Especially a Memoridon deserter. Does that sound at all familiar to you?”

  The bronze Memoridon narrowed her eyes and inspected Soffjian but didn’t respond.

  Skeelana said, “There you go. Powers of deduction. Yes, this is she. Soffjian, of the Jackal Tower. And while check-in isn’t for a tenday, this one won’t last ten more minutes. She is injured and has been separated from the frame for far too long.”

  The bronze woman looked back to Skeelana. “That could very well be the true. Likely even. But no concern of mine. Not unless you have Imperial writ granting her early entrance.”

  Skeelana blinked twice. “Given that Cynead is out there trouncing his enemies right now, I don’t expect to be able to get his signature to satisfy you this moment. There simply isn’t time. But you see, that’s sort of the advantage to being a pet—I do have his attention. At least for now. So when I ride out to him, present this woman’s corpse, and explain that she is dead because a guardian of the frame stuck to some ridiculous protocol instead of doing the smart thing and ensuring she was kept alive for questioning . . .” She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I have a funny feeling he won’t be amused. Call it a hunch. So, Lady Protocol, remind me of your name please. I want to be sure I do give an accurate account.”