by J. C. Owens
Eight years of happiness. Eight years of peace. Eight years of Taldan…
“There are those within the guild who work for the good, but they are sadly outnumbered,” Ralnulian said. “I believe, from the little research I have done, that long ago, the guild was exactly what it pretends to be now. A tool, a weapon for the emperor with shamans who worked to tweak events to keep the world from reverting to primal brutality. Things have changed in those eight years you were gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is a new grandmaster, for one. An ambitious man, it is said. There have been new prophecies, ones that bode ill for the guild’s future.” He shrugged. “I know little more than that. Whispers. Hints. Few details.”
“How do you know even that much? You’re a rogue.”
“True, but I have encountered other assassins. I’ve spoken with elites before we crossed blades. Much like we are talking now.”
Hredeen let his empathy have free rein, trying desperately to detect the slightest hint of a lie within the man’s words. Everything, his body language, words, tone, the expression in his eyes, said it was truth. Hredeen had been away for so long. He’d had no contact with other guild assassins. He was essentially blind. The grandmaster who had sent him on his mission was dead and another had taken his place. Prophecies of ruin for the War Guild. What would he return to when he finally went back to Iskama Rael?
“This can’t be true. You have to be mistaken. Maybe—”
“I killed a grandmaster.” Ralnulian’s words fell like stones between them. “I killed him before you had even earned your blade. You would not remember him, for you were but an acolyte. But he knew you.”
“Why?”
Ralnulian took his time answering, his dark eyes searching Hredeen’s. The man’s calm was almost as unsettling as his scars. “When I heard that the grandmaster would bring you in, treat you as he had me, break you as I was broken, something within me snapped. I hardly remember what happened, only that when I came back to myself, I was covered with blood, the room painted red with it. He lay at my feet, head almost severed from his body, those cruel eyes blank and staring.” He met Hredeen’s shocked stare with absolutely no regret in his manner or expression. “It was like ridding the world of a demon.”
“How did you escape?” Hredeen whispered, imagining that long-ago scene all too well. Their talents were used to kill swiftly, cleanly, with as little sound or blood as possible. After all, blood had an easily recognizable smell to it. Those same talents, let loose in rage, would create a very different scene.
Hredeen knew the possibility was within him and had always feared it. He was a killer, but he feared becoming a killer with no control. There were those he had heard of who had grown to love the hunt, relish the kill. Hredeen had always vowed if he lost that last precious bit of humanity that he would end his life. He was not a beast, despite what he had been taught.
“I washed his blood from my body, then packed up every small valuable of his that I could find, along with a good deal of his coin. Then I dressed in my leathers, picked up my sword and knives and left the room. Any guards I encountered I simply told that I had been sent on a last-minute mission, as I often was. My master had told others that I was the greatest assassin he had ever encountered, that I surpassed any other, even back through their history.” He shrugged. “Was I? Perhaps. I was often sent in when others had failed to kill their target. I think he liked keeping a caged tiger, liked prodding at me, as though that confirmed his own courage.” His lip curled, eyes hooding. “He died for that arrogance.”
“I remember nothing of this,” Hredeen protested, hardly believing that he was entertaining the thought that this just might be true.
“Did you think they would publicize it?” Ralnulian cocked his head, giving Hredeen a shrewd look. “They control a large group of extremely dangerous young men. If word got out that one had escaped, had killed the supposedly all-powerful leader of the entire guild? They are accomplished liars. It would be little work to convince already broken trainees that everything was exactly the way it had been the day before, and the time before that.”
He stared at Ralnulian’s scars and shivered, vividly imagining what would have been his fate if this man had not stood up, fought back—and won.
He knew pain, knew torture, had been well-trained sexually, and knew the measure of the brutality all the children were shown. By the sound of it though, and judging by those horrific scars, being under the grandmaster’s thumb would have been far, far worse than anything he had endured.
He should be horrified, ready to kill this man to defend the guild’s honor, yet instead, he felt a troubling degree of gratitude. Did he owe this man a debt for protecting him all those years ago? He took a step back, horrified at feeling the least amount of solidarity with this rogue.
If he could not get his thoughts in order, if he could not step up and attack the man, then he was badly compromised. That would be a death sentence. His normal state of calm, rational thought was gone. He felt adrift, unable to act, either to attack a rogue as per standing orders or to back away and leave the confusion behind, leave Ralnulian behind.
This man already seemed to have a hold over him that he could not explain. There had been a draw, a familiarity, an odd attraction even within the pavilion. Now that oddity might get him killed, either by the other assassin himself or by the guild if they discovered his perfidy.
He made his choice. There was no turning back now.
“I need to get to Zaran Anrodnes, the imperial prince,” Hredeen said. “He’s leading the empire’s army and needs to know of the assassinations.” He paused, his thoughts still reeling from all he had learned. “I will tell him of your contribution.”
Ralnulian smiled, a small curve of his lips that caught Hredeen’s eye and held it. “I’ll travel with you. That way, you can know where I am and can keep an eye on me.”
Hredeen’s eyes narrowed, his body tensing, in full protective mode. He had not considered Ralnulian coming with him. Yet, he desperately wanted to learn more of what this rogue knew. He had been out of touch with the War Guild for too long, and now he was hearing tales that caused him to doubt everything he had once believed of the guild. His entire world was crumbling around him.
But first, he had one last duty to Zaran and to Cermin. His promise to return one last time.
“You show the slightest disrespect, make the smallest threatening move toward Prince Zaran, and I will cut you down. I know him well, and he is protected by me. Is that clear?”
Ralnulian inclined his head respectfully, the smile turning rueful.
“As you wish, Hredeen Leesian.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Naral
“We have proof that Valsen Maltes was working for the leader of a shadowy group known as Julne. There were papers upon his body, notes, codes that we have broken. The group has a radical following, their belief that mages should rule, their talents far superior to others.” Naral’s tone held distaste. He didn’t have the most patience with a zealot on a good day, and this was definitely not that day.
“So he was attempting to steal the Illumitae?” Taldan had leaned back his chair, hands clasped across his stomach, looking far more relaxed than Naral would have expected given the situation. He looked better rested, more himself.
Naral shot a look at Raine and noted that the younger man also seemed to have regained a little color, when he had been abnormally pale since the Choosing. Something had occurred between them, something that had formed a more stable link.
It had taken a lot of soul searching before Naral could move on from his initial dislike of Raine. The fact was, the young man was Taldan’s Chosen. There was no going back. Not that Naral would want that, especially after seeing the horror of Antan’s death and the resulting Illumitae backlash that had almost taken Taldan’s life. Seeing his friend whole and strong meant he could forgive a lot of things, even Raine’s bloodline.
&nb
sp; Naral still didn’t trust him, but he was attempting to keep an open mind, not an easy thing for him.
“I believe it was more than that.” Naral’s grim tone made Taldan frown. The emperor straightened up and put his forearms on the table, his gaze sharpening.
“What else could he possibly have hoped to achieve?” Taldan demanded. “He would have been linked to me as the Chosen. If he had killed me with his magic after becoming the Chosen, he might have gained control of the Illumitae. If his control of magic was strong and precise enough, he might have had access to all the secrets and knowledge of all the emperors. That has to be what they were after.”
Raine shifted uneasily, casting a worried glance at Taldan. Naral approved of his concern. There was a lot to worry about.
He took a deep breath and pushed on to the most disturbing information they had learned. “Further digging through the codes revealed a link between the group Julne and the War Guild.”
Taldan flinched. Through the golden mask, Naral could see his eyes widen, then flash with anger. “Hredeen.” He said the name like a curse.
Naral shook his head. “Hredeen had nothing to do with this, Taldan. That is completely evident. He killed Valsen, and that was not in the plan from everything I am hearing. He told us himself that he came here to protect you. That was his mission…and he achieved it.”
Taldan’s hands were slowly curling into fists. He looked away from Naral, jaw tight. Naral felt a flash of despair. His words weren’t reaching Taldan.
“I didn’t know Hredeen as well as you,” Raine said quietly, “but what little I felt and heard leaves me unable to believe that he had a hand in this.” There was a note of censure in Raine’s voice, a hint of steel that made Naral’s eyebrow rise. The Chosen was staring directly at Taldan, no hint of submission in either his tone or his posture.
The emperor turned his head, meeting his Chosen’s gaze with anger flaring in his own. Yet, Raine did not back down.
“He didn’t betray you. Believe in him.” Raine’s quiet words seemed to echo in the room.
Taldan finally looked away, his body taut, no sign whether he had accepted Raine’s message.
Naral vividly remembered the look of devastation upon Hredeen’s features when Taldan had cast him out. It had been the look of a man who had nothing more to lose. He could only pray to the gods that Hredeen was safe. If he had returned to the guild, then whatever faction or individual that had planned Valsen’s actions might not see him as anything but a threat. Then again, they might view him as a tool against Taldan, exploiting their feelings for one another.
Naral knew in his soul that if that happened, Hredeen would not hesitate to take his own life. He would never harm Taldan. Naral was not a trusting person, and his sojourn within the court had only added to his list of suspicions, but even he could find no fault with Hredeen. Even this new, alarming information about the War Guild’s influence over Julne and their involvement in the bloody mess at the ascension did not cause him to doubt Hredeen.
Hredeen was innocent of this crime.
If only Taldan would see it that way.
The extent of the emperor’s anger against Hredeen was surprising to Naral. Taldan was not the sort to show such things, but then again, he had never really opened to anyone the way he had with Hredeen.
“So if the War Guild was behind Valsen’s act,” Taldan said, “what are they seeking?”
“A collapse of the empire.” Raine’s voice was so quiet that both men had to turn to face him to hear better.
The Chosen looked up, met their gaze and shrugged his shoulders. “The name of the empire is not so revered in other places. Kingdoms that lie along the borders, conquered territories that have never healed. Just like Odenar, they might be biding their time, but they are not tame, not resigned to being part of Anrodnes. It has been my experience that men like my brothers will never accept being ruled. They want their own power and nothing, not peace, not prosperity, will change them from that course. If the empire fell, the resulting chaos would enable the guild, strong and with stealth, to infiltrate governments. Before anyone knew what was happening, they would be in control, and who would be powerful enough to oppose them with the empire fallen?”
He looked up at Taldan, attempted a small smile that was more a grimace. “There are those that crave peace and those who would destroy it. Times of strife offer new opportunities for the would-be tyrants of this world. I have heard and seen so much of what men like that think, how they view themselves and the world around them. I could see the guild wanting what you have. With gods knows how many assassins and warriors at their beck and call, I would imagine they feel they have a good chance to take over.”
Taldan was silent, chin on hand, a deep frown in place as he considered what he had learned. Raine and Naral fell silent as well, waiting for his insight. He ran over scenarios, possibilities, motivations at high speed.
“I have no heir.” That fact stood out sharply in his considerations. “If they had managed to kill me during the ascension, the throne would have gone to Zaran. But if the Illumitae was stolen by Valsen, then it would not have been transferred to Zaran. It would have been lost, and all the power and knowledge along with it. It truly could have ended the empire as we know it. Perhaps not right away, but Julne or the War Guild could have worked at the cracks, exploiting them, killing men loyal to the imperial throne. Encouraging more rebellion, like we witnessed with Odenar. They must have seen me as weak for not using the guild as my father did early in his rule.”
Naral leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think they have the faintest idea who and what you are, my friend. Your plans, your way of thinking, is so far outside their expectations that they can’t even imagine where Anrodnes is headed. They feel threatened. Cornered. That makes them dangerous.” He paused, rubbed the back of his neck, before straightening up and facing Taldan squarely. “You need an heir.” He glanced at Raine.
The young man eyed him, before shaking his head, a small grin curving his lips. “Well, don’t look at me. Even with a whisper of Illumitae within me, I can’t fulfill that particular duty.”
Naral snorted, rolling his eyes, welcoming the small hint of normality after the shock of their discovery. The thought of the War Guild moving against an emperor was staggering. The thought of them trying to destroy Anrodnes or at the least control it was anything but comforting.
* * *
Taldan
An heir? Taldan had to control a surge of frustration. Right now, an heir seemed the least of his worries. He wanted to go to his library, search for anything regarding the War Guild.
Hredeen would have known…
He pushed aside the thought viciously. He had to move on, get past his constant longing. There was no place for the past in what was occurring now. He had to deal with this threat to the empire, this danger to the people, to all the territories under his rule.
Yet Raine’s words had comforted him, though he did not want to admit it. Hredeen had not sought to harm him. He needed to remember that, especially since thinking of Hredeen caused his emotions to break loose of the control he had spent years mastering.
A shaft of memory came, a harsh flash of his concubine’s expression when Taldan had told him to get out. There had been such deep, soul-destroying pain in that look before Hredeen had looked down, accepting his command.
Taldan squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep, cleansing breath.
The action had been right. He could not have continued to harbor a guild assassin within the walls. His memories from past emperors told him he had been right. The Shadows guarded the emperor. Assassins had been useful tools for carrying out the emperor’s will and putting terror in the hearts of his enemies, but they were never kept close. Never allowed to live in the palace.
Yet Sarnwa is still here. Still with your father. Still loyal.
The words scraped against his conscience. They undermined everything he wanted
to convince himself of. That he had been right. That he had been justified in what he’d done.
He opened his eyes and met Naral’s questioning stare. “Convince me why an heir should take precedence over uncovering traitors within the War Guild and destroying them along with these Julne mages.”
“An heir would strengthen your hold upon the throne,” Naral said. “Securing the line of ascension is the duty of every emperor.”
Taldan snorted at his friend’s lecturing tone. “Are there any women within the em—father’s—female harem that might be suitable?”
Naral grimaced. “Like I would know? That’s not exactly where my tastes run.” At Taldan’s unimpressed glare, he sighed. “I’ll look into it. Should I ask Demarin?”
Taldan could see his friend’s unease at saying the name out loud, so long forbidden. He considered if the idea of his father helping held any merit. He had known this day would come, but had hoped for a little more time learning to rule before attending to this necessary task. Now, he could see how it might be necessary.
“The women’s harem is Demarin’s. Therefore, I believe we need to speak to him on this matter. If he denies us, or there is not a suitable candidate, then we will have to come up with a new plan.”
Naral bowed. Through Taldan’s connection to Raine, he could feel his Chosen’s concern and even a gentle curiosity. He was thinking about a child, and the joy a child could bring into the palace, and the light one could bring into their lives.
He turned his attention back to Naral, avoiding the thorny issue of producing an heir for now. “Keep investigating the role of the War Guild and Julne in this attack,” he ordered. “I want to know their motives. What changed? Why turn against me, especially if Hredeen was sent here to protect me? I did not sense a lie in his words when he told me that.”
“He was not lying,” Raine said. “I…I felt it.”