by Rob J. Hayes
Jez heard the door to the gaol swing open. If they've come to cut me open again kill the first one through the bars, Jez. She waited, every muscle relaxed but ready to spring into action at the slightest command.
Nolan walked into view, a broad sword on his hip and a vacant expression on his face. His leather armour was torn and bloody but he didn't appear to be wounded.
“Nolan,” Jez said rushing forward and gripping the bars. “What happened to Rose?”
The big soldier stared at her blankly. Kessick walked into view. He stopped just short of the bars, just short of being within nose breaking distance.
“He can understand you but he hasn't learned to form our words yet,” Kessick said in a monotone voice. “It can be disorientating at first but they learn eventually.”
Jez took an involuntary step back from the bars, readying herself for a fight. “What do you mean?”
Kessick looked confused for a moment. “You fought Arbiter Kosh, you know what he was. Yes, you do.”
“A demon?” Jez asked.
“Yes. Arbiter Darkheart told you about them? Yes, he explained it all to you didn't he. Only two of your group were compatible. This one was one of them.”
“What about Rose?”
“The woman. Drake's sacrifice. She didn't realise he sent her here to die. She was not compatible.”
“You killed her?”
Kessick shook his head. “Drake wants her dead, that alone is reason enough for me to want her alive. I sent her on her way. She might get back to her city though I think you know a woman alone in this place can experience many tragedies. Yes, you do. Still, I suspect that one will survive.”
“What about me?” Jez asked. “Are you going to put a demon in me?” She looked down at her wrist. “Have you done it already?”
“No,” Kessick ground out with a single shake of his head. “There is not a bit of potential in you Jezzet Vel'urn. Perhaps that is why Arbiter Darkheart finds you so fascinating.”
In her head Jez let out a sigh of relief, the idea of sharing her body with a demon was not entirely pleasing, after all, she had seen one and they looked far from pleasant bed fellows. “I choose to believe it's because he loves me.”
“What you choose to believe and the truth are two very different things. I will show you.” Kessick motioned to the cell door and Nolan pulled out a key, fitted it to the lock, turned it and a moment later the bars swung open. Jez walked calmly, cautiously forward until she was at the doorway, then she sprang.
She passed Nolan before he could react and swung a fist at Kessick followed by another. The ex-Arbiter turned both strikes aside as though Jez were nothing but a slow, weak child. She felt a large hand grip her neck from behind and then she was flying backwards through the air to crash onto the floor of her cell, rolling in the straw and flowing back onto her feet with nothing but a new bruise to show for her efforts.
The door to the cell did not close but Nolan moved in to block her way, standing as still as stone, his deeply wrinkled face a blank slate.
“You had to try, I understand,” said Kessick, his hands in his coat pockets in such a way that reminded Jez of Thanquil. “Please do not try again. It would be unwise. Now come.”
Jez walked cautiously to the cell door and waited for Nolan to move, the big man took his time but eventually stepped aside. Jezzet followed Kessick out of the gaol and onto the main thoroughfare of Absolution bathed in the soft, waning light of a wilds late afternoon. There was a breezy chill in the air and Jez knew what that meant. Storm's coming. Though the lack of clouds claimed otherwise.
The streets were busy with folk going about their business but that business was definitely not what most folk would consider normal. Men, women and children dressed in rags or armour, fine silk clothing or aprons, shifts or robes, some were even about naked with all their bodies on display, they were busy in the central square of Absolution building siege engines or smithing weapons or mixing ingredients into what looked suspiciously like Thanquil's black powder, the same substance he used to fire that deadly little pistol of his. Here were peasants and nobility, warriors and beggars, children and the elderly and all were gearing up for a war.
“Intending on using those?” Jez nodded towards the war machines.
Kessick turned back and glanced at her then continued walking. “The wilds will not submit without a fight and it must submit to me.”
“You'll need more than a few hundred people in your army if you want to take the wilds.”
“Who said anything about people?”
Jezzet spat into the dusty street.
“I want to explain myself to you, Jezzet,” Kessick said his voice approaching what some might consider earnest.
“Why?”
“Because I want you to convince Arbiter Darkheart to join me.”
She snorted. “I ain't ever really had much of a say with him when it comes to the killing of heretics.”
“Then you will have to be persuasive,” Kessick's voice ground her nerves to dust. “First I must give you a history lesson Jezzet Vel'urn.”
Jez groaned and noticed two more of Kessick's demon-possessed troops, a young woman with hair the colour of dying embers and a grizzled veteran with only one arm, had joined them. She felt more than a little prisoner even out of her cell. Seems you've been a prisoner a lot of late, Jez. Might be time to break for freedom soon.
“Thousands of years ago the world was ruled by the Drurr,” Kessick started his lesson heedless of Jezzet's reluctance to come anywhere close to caring. “They spread all the way from the wilds to Sarth to the Five Kingdoms and to the Dragon Empire though none had such names at the time. Humanity was weak, powerless against the magics the Drurr wielded. Little more than animals the humans were used as slaves and cattle.
“We were not freed from the Drurr by your Gods or even by Volmar, as many would have you believe. We were freed by the Dread Lords.”
“Who?”
Kessick looked back at Jez, giving her a long, pointed stare. “There were seven of them, I'm afraid I do not know their specifics, such details are long lost. They learned the secrets of magic, dark magic. The type of power people these days do not even know exists. They wielded sorcery and necromancy and they went to war with the Drurr for the sake of their people.”
“They won then,” Jez said pointing out the obvious.
“They lost.”
“Oh... didn't see that one coming.”
“This was before they became known as the Dread Lords. They threw an army at the Drurr and backed it with apocalyptic magics and they lost. Their army was slaughtered to a man but they escaped unharmed.
“Years later they returned to the homeland of the Drurr, to the land south of the Five Kingdoms.”
“You mean the Land of the Dead?”
“Yes. They returned with the knowledge of immortality. Once hidden inside their enemy's capital city they completed the ritual to turn themselves into liches, necromancers that have cast off their mortal shells and become the very thing they seek to control; the dead. But the Dread Lords did not bind their essence to an object, they all bound their essence to the land itself. They created the Land of the Dead and over night they won a war their enemy did not even know they were fighting.
“Legions of the dead rose from their graves and slaughtered the Drurr, men, women and children and every one that died rose and continued the slaughter. A plague of death swept the Drurr homeland and left living death behind it.
“Then the Dread Lords reached the limit of their power, as strong as they were their influence could reach only so far. It stopped south of the land now known as the Five Kingdoms. But the Dread Lords were not satisfied. Power corrupts and they were corrupted to the souls. They began to marshal their forces, if their power could not stretch beyond the Land of the Dead then their monsters could.
“Then came Volmar. A beacon of light in the darkest of times. A living God sent from on high to save us from the very wea
pon that had saved us from the Drurr. Volmar rallied the burgeoning kingdoms of man to his banner and taught those he could how to use his magic.
“Volmar took the fight to the Dread Lords and he won. Then he created the Inquisition to hunt down the remaining Drurr, to purify the remaining users of dark magic and to protect the world in his stead when the Dread Lords returned and he knew they would.”
“Fascinating,” Jez said rolling her eyes.
Kessick span around and the back of his hand connected with Jez's face. She found herself on her hands and knees in the dust, spitting blood wandering how she got there. Bastard is so fast. That and he hits like a bear. Jez rolled her tongue around her mouth and felt one of her teeth move. She'd never lost a tooth before, not since the little ones she had as a child anyway, but it looked like she might lost this one. She spat out another mouthful of blood. Her lip was well and truly split and she reckoned it would be swelling and leaving a colourful bruise any time soon.
Might be best not to piss him off again, Jez. With that thought in mind she pushed herself to her feet, swaying only slightly as the world gave a little wobble.
Kessick was treating her to a blank stare. Once he was satisfied she was suitably cowed he turned and resumed walking. “The Dread Lords are returning, Jezzet. Already their power is beginning to effect the world, the Land of the Dead swarms with walking corpses and soon the Dread Lords will walk in this world again. The demons have shown me that and they have shown me that we are not ready.”
“Thanquil told me about this part,” Jezzet said. “Your dead boss said something similar. Darkness coming and the Inquisition being too weak to fight it.”
Kessick didn't stop, didn't slow, just kept on walking. “Inquisitor Heron was a puppet. I needed the help of someone higher up in the Inquisition and I chose her.”
“You chose her?”
“Did Arbiter Darkheart ever tell you he was sent to find Volmar's sword as a gift for the God-Emperor?”
“Yes. Lost for somewhere near forever and he found it out in the Land of the Dead.”
“Well he wasn't the only one sent to look for it. He found Volmar's blade and I found something else. I found Myorzo, the demon blade. The demon inside the sword showed me the truth and I gave the sword to Inquisitor Heron so it could show her. Her pride wouldn't allow her to play second place to an Arbiter so I let her think she was in charge. The outcome is what's important after all.”
Kessick stopped outside a two-story wooden building with shuttered windows and an old rusty sign showing a big, red X. He turned to look at Jezzet. “The Inquisition is weak. It is full of powerless cowards who wish only to further themselves and do not care to see the whole picture. They do not know what is coming and they will not be ready to face it. But I will. By the time the Dread Lords rise the Inquisition will be gone and I will have an army of demons at my command. I will send the lichs back to their oblivion and then I will rebuild the Inquisition stronger than ever before.” For the first time Kessick's voice betrayed emotion and Jez saw the fire of self-righteous zeal lit in his eyes. It didn't matter whether he was right or not, Kessick believed he was and he would do anything, sacrifice anything to achieve his goals. It scared her.
Nothing worse than those who do evil but believe they're doing good, Jez.
Kessick was staring at her, his eyes flicking back and forth searching her face. “You do not believe me. No, I see it. Come.”
He opened the door to the building marked with the red X and walked inside, his entourage nudging Jezzet along behind him. She rubbed at the scar on her wrist and followed the ex-Arbiter into the dingy building. It smelled of dust and sweat and blood, three things Jezzet knew all too well. The walls were warped and stained dark with years of neglect, the floor was covered in dust and mud brought in from the street and never cleaned. A stairway led up to the first floor but Kessick ignored it, heading down a short corridor and through a bent doorway sitting at a slight angle. Jez followed him inside and froze.
In the room, strapped to a solid wooden table, possibly the most solid construction Jez had seen since arriving in Absolution, was a man she recognised. He was one of Rose's guards, a big mouthed, big nosed, balding veteran who went by the name of Rabb and who never missed an opportunity to leer at either Jez or Rose. Now he was strapped down tight and his face was a horrible motley of red, blue and black. Looks like he took a real beating from someone who really enjoyed it.
Jez sucked at her teeth. “What are you doing to him?”
Kessick regarded Rabb for a moment then turned to Jez. “He has potential. I'm going to put a demon inside of him.”
Jez took a step backwards and bumped into the man who had once been Nolan staring down at her through dead, pitiless eyes. “So why the fuck am I here? You said I've got no potential.”
“You don't,” Kessick said in his gravel voice. “But I want you to witness it all the same. I want Arbiter Darkheart to join me, Jezzet and I want you to convince him. This,” he pointed at Rabb, “is to provide you with motivation. If you cannot convince Arbiter Darkheart to join me, I will force his cooperation.”
Thanquil
Absolution. Strange name for a town located in the wilds, a place where most folk didn't know the meaning of the word and those that did wanted none of it. Stranger still that Kessick had chosen to make it his home. It didn't look like much but then places rarely did out in the wilds. Thanquil had spent a fair portion of his life within the glorious city of Sarth, white marble everywhere and thousands upon thousands of slaves to clean it everyday. Sarth put on a pretty face but under the skin it was rotten. In the wilds towns didn't even bother with the pretty faces and Absolution was no different.
“How ever will we get in,” Thanquil said staring at the walls.
Thorn sniffed loudly from beside him. “Reckon there's probably a...”
“No,” interrupted Henry tilting back her hat and giving Thorn a glare.
“What?”
“Ya were gonna suggest sewers. Ya always suggest sewers. What is it with you an' fuckin' sewers?”
Thorn looked a little indignant. “S'Good way ta get into a place. No one ever checks the sewers.”
“That's 'cos they're full of other folk's shit. Bad enough smellin' of ya own from time ta time but willingly smellin' of someone else's shit?”
“Never seemed ta bother ya before...”
Henry spat. “Always fuckin' bothered me jus' when we was on the other side of the law didn't have much of a damned choice. Now I reckon we're above crawlin' through sewers. Don't ever reckon the Hangman went on his hands an' knees through shit, nor the Saint.”
Thorn snorted. “Ya might be surprised what the Saint got up ta in his day. Try askin' Ben when we get back to Farpoint.”
“I believe you may have meant to say if we get back to Farpoint, boss.” Everyone turned and gave Anders a silent, meaningful stare. “Just putting things into perspective. Six of us, army of demons, little to no chance of survival. As a gambler those... are exactly the sorts of odds I like to play... of course that might explain my extraordinary lack of monetary gain over the years.”
Silence.
“So no sewers then?” Anders said with over-active joy.
Henry shook her head. “Sometimes I wish Drake'd kept him, ya know?”
The Black Thorn shrugged. “So the walls then?”
“Pick an abandoned-looking section... looks like there's plenty to choose from, slip in through the gaps and take a look around town,” Thanquil said. “Scout out the area, find out where Kessick is holed up and kill the bastard.”
“Ya make it sound so easy,” Henry said. “Thought we weren't lettin' him do any of the plannin' these days on account of none of us wantin' ta die.”
Thanquil glared at the little murderess but Henry only grinned back at him.
“Aye,” Thorn grunted. “As a rule I'd say that's a fairly safe one but I don't reckon he's wrong about it. Best we do this with some degree of stealth.
Killin' Kessick when he ain't expectin' it seems the best way 'bout it.”
“I don't remember agreeing to assassinating anyone,” the Honin said, it had been so long since the last occasion Thanquil had almost forgotten how his voice sounded.
“Aye,” Henry agreed. “Seem ta remember us being done with that sort of work. “
Thanquil decided to opt out of the argument. Assassination wasn't in an Arbiter's dictionary, they preferred to call it righteous judgement.
Thorn gave Henry a hard stare. “I seem ta remember a time when ya wasn't above a little spot of murder.”
Henry gave Thorn a hard stare right back. “I seem ta remember a time when you was the same way. Also seem ta remember us both deciding it might be time fer a change.”
“We ain't assassinating no one,” Thorn growled. “Things go right we won't be doing no killin' at all. All we do is get Thanquil in an' let him deal with his Inquisition's heretic. A grand case of doing fuck all an' Kessick gets dead out of it an' maybe then my eye, the one that ain't fuckin' there no more, can stop itchin'. Good?”
Thanquil watched Henry grind her teeth, her jaw clenching hard, but eventually she nodded. Suzku nodded as though he had never had a problem with it in the first place and Anders just grinned.
“All set then,” Thorn said. “We'll wait a spell for darkness then slip in quiet, do the job an' slip out jus' as quiet.”
Darkness came sooner than Thanquil would have liked. He didn't feel ready for it, for what was to come. He wasn't sure why he was so hesitant, maybe because he knew something the others didn't. He patted the sword hanging from his hip. Might be because he knew how it was likely to end.
They stole up to the wall in silence, moving from shadow to shadow in short dashes. They had brought only what they thought they would need and left the rest out of the way with their horses. All six members of the crew were well armed and ready, all except Jacob who carried no weapons and, judging by his extravagant hand gestures, did not believe he would need any. They flattened up against the wall and waited. After Thorn was of the opinion no one had seen them he waved Henry through one of the larger gaps in the wall. She ducked through and was gone. A few very long seconds later and she reappeared, gave a quick nod and ducked through again. Thanquil followed her in.