He stood from his throne, and Shale mirrored him. The Guardians in the room didn’t move, but Slate could feel the tension in the room as their attention seemed to alternate between him and their surroundings. He felt secure here in his palace at the center of his domain. The Scourge leader didn’t think it would be possible for another attack like the one committed by Mordryn to occur again. In the time that he had been away at Standyr, the city experienced significant changes.
As Slate descended down the dais, he asked what everyone else was thinking.
“Does anyone actually know where this new chamber is?”
Sumnu chuckled at the Scion good-naturedly. “Well, my Lord, Bastion has been thoughtful enough to renovate the room you’ve already been using to meet with your advisors.”
“Ah,” Slate responded. “Small mercies.” He walked down the hall with his arm linked in Shale’s. Serena padded behind them like a stalking panther, and Slate was struck again by the changes that had occurred in his absence. There were Guardians at every door and hallway in the palace, and liveried servants scurried to and fro, taking care of the small, but necessary, tasks required to keep a structure as large as the palace running. As he walked, he brought up his stat sheet to see how much biomass he had waiting for his expenditure.
He noted how close he was to the next major evolution with a measure of regret. He wished that he could see the following form so that he could calculate it into the plans they were about to discuss. He somewhat resented the fact that Lucidus kept that knowledge from him. If this were back on Earth, he would at least be able to account for his capabilities—current or future—into the plan. He felt like he was flying blind sometimes, and it irked him to no end.
Slate and the rest of his party reached the small chamber near the throne room in just a couple of minutes. A Guardian stationed by the door, opened the chamber as the party approached. He was impressed by the display. Either Matek had informed the man that he was on the way, or a system of communication had developed among the staff in the palace. He knew that similar systems manifested in large governmental buildings as staffers and assistants created a network of relationships to make things run as smoothly as possible for the men and women that paid them. It had been a while since Slate had experienced this benefit of power, and it was one that he found he had missed. He enjoyed the trappings of wealth and power almost as much as the control that it afforded him.
He was about to step inside the room when he got his first look at the renovated interior. It looked like the Scourge equivalent of an Earthly boardroom. In the center, a large circle made from celestial marble dominated the space. Etched into its surface, was the stylized sun emblem of Lucidus. It glittered in the light of the smokeless, white fire torches that ringed the room. The etching looked to be inlaid with solid gold rather than filigree formed on the surface.
The room had been richly adorned before, but now it looked opulent enough to seat heads of state. Slate supposed that, in the future, that’s precisely what the Scourge would become. Each faction of the Scourge would have its own needs and desires. The men and women that joined him in this room would have the opportunity to decide the future for the entire Scourge.
Matek broke Slate from his musing. Are we going to enter, chief? Or just stand outside all day long?
Slate laughed, not taking offense in the slightest at Matek’s tone. There was something about the roguish spy that made someone want to like him even though his attitude was contrarian by its very nature.
Slate walked forward, and his nails clicked a staccato rhythm on the marble floor. In between each tile, a frame of opalescent stone stretched from one side of the room to the other. It shined a rainbow of glittering colors onto the furniture. Slate walked to the head of the table and looked at the carved wooden seat that waited there for him. On the head of the chair was a stylized symbol that Slate supposed represented his class. He looked around the table as the rest of the Scourge filed in and realized that each chair had a different symbol crowning it. There was even a chair that was built on a larger scale than the rest. It had clearly been constructed with Sumnu’s considerable bulk in mind.
Nice touch, he thought.
There was a chair next to him that looked like it was meant for Shale. As he wondered where Serena would sit, he saw her walk behind his seat to one of the columns that ringed the chamber and situate herself in the light of the sconce that hung from the column.
Of course, he shrugged internally. She won’t allow herself to be too far away from me.
Slate looked up and saw that the chamber was far taller than it used to be. Now the columns led to a small gallery of seats, where Slate assumed each councilor could bring guests or witnesses if they chose to do so. It looked similar to the congressional chambers from his world but on a smaller scale. He studied the gallery, concerned about potential assassination attempts before he saw a ring of Guardians in the gallery providing overwatch for the leaders below. Their presence comforted him a great deal.
Sighing, he took his seat and watched the others as they all found their places and made their assessments of the room. Once they were all seated, the Guardian at the door closed it, and there was a popping sensation like the pressure had changed.
Bastion appeared in the room in his typical, disheveled form. No one in the room moved, more than used to his surprise visitations by now. He coughed violently and slammed a fist into his chest to clear an obstruction before bringing his fist to his mouth and wiping away the saliva that rested there.
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat once more. “What you all experienced was the wards going into effect. You should be able to communicate now without the risk of eavesdropping from ne’er-do-wells—to include cosmic beings.” With a sound like a backfiring car, the avatar disappeared once more.
“Oh-kay,” Slate breathed. “Now that the excitement is over, I think it’s important that we refocus and decide how we’re going to move forward.”
Slate looked over at Fidem. I think we should start with you. What are your intentions, Fidem?
Fidem smiled with all of the serenity of a Buddhist monk. Why, my Lord Scion, I only seek to do the Lord of Light’s will.
Slate raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like that Lucidus now had a loyalist in the camp. Everyone else was loyal to him more than the deity they collectively served. Now there was a priest in the mix. It disrupted the control he had over the situation and made him feel like the Lord of Light was pressing a blade to his throat even though she had done nothing but help his cause.
…and how do you think you’ll go about doing that, Fidem?
The other Firsts in the room looked at the priest carefully. Sumnu and Shale were just as wary of the man as Slate, and they were curious how the new presence would affect their dynamic. Conversely, Matek and Lynia were well aware of the priest’s reputation in the rest of Bastion. Fidem had been useful for converting the citizens of Bastion into Faithful, but his methods were borderline unethical, at best, and morally indefensible, at worst. He had been known for forcing citizens to convert to the Faithful by using mercenaries and common street thugs to get his way. In the short time since he had been transformed into one of the Scourge, he hadn’t displayed anything more than a passionate commitment to Lucidus. Still, everyone knew what happened when faith escaped the circumscribed boundaries of reason. It would tear the society apart, impede the advancement of all sentient beings, and destroy anything that sought to criticize it.
Slate, in particular, had seen fundamentalism run rampant in his world. Wherever fundamental extremist ideology touched, the nation was left worse by its passing. He wouldn’t let the spark of piety become a conflagration that would destroy the rest of the Scourge. He couldn’t be sure where Fidem was on the subject, and asking him outright was unlikely to get the results he was hoping to see. His approach to Fidem would depend entirely on how Fidem answered the question.
Well, my Lord Scion. Let me show you, Fidem said natu
rally.
Immediately, Slate felt a pushing sensation through the Scourgemind. If the connection between the Scourge was a radio, then it felt like an entirely new bandwidth of creatures were pressing down on him. He allowed himself to open the defenses he naturally placed around his psyche, and suddenly, he could see and experience every Enticer that Fidem had ever created. He swam through their memories like a fish in a spring. He danced among their eyes like he was flicking through television channels in his previous life. He knew what they were thinking, what they were hoping, what they dreamed of accomplishing. He knew everything at once. He pulled himself from that particular part of the Scourgemind and looked at Fidem in shock.
What was that? He said incredulously.
That, Fidem said happily, is how the Scourgemind is meant to be used. You’ve been using it as a means of communication, but it’s so much more than that. Most people only get to live one life, my Lord. But we—he gestured to the other Firsts around the table—We get to live the life every one of our progeny. While you, he said as he pointed to Slate and Shale, Get to experience the lives of the entire Scourge at once.
Slate’s eyes widened in shock. He had used the Scourgemind to some degree to coordinate the actions of the Raiders when they attacked Standur. He had also used the Scourgemind to exchange thoughts and memories with Shale when they were scouting out Wayward. He had never used it to the degree that Fidem had just demonstrated. If Fidem was right, Slate didn’t have to worry about the Scourge’s loyalty to him or how the priest affected it because he could read the very souls of the Scourge who served him.
The rest of the table looked as surprised as Slate felt. Fidem addressed them, feel within yourselves. You are more than the shell you currently inhabit. The Scourge is so much more. Open your senses within the Scourgemind and join the rest of your brothers and sisters.
Slate watched as most of the other Firsts attempted to do just that. He could tell when they realized their new capabilities by the expressions that crossed their faces. Additionally, once they became aware of their new connections, Slate could feel the link manifest itself within his mind as well.
I suppose it makes sense, he mused. I am connected to them, and their classes are connected to me through them.
The only one who hadn’t had the revelatory experience was Lynia. Slate assumed it was because Lynia had yet to create any Mystics. It was a problem that he would address in the coming weeks as they prepared for the Vallyrian assault.
Fidem studied the Scion. Did that answer your question, my Lord?
Slate felt through the Scourgemind. He could feel the Enticers out among the people. They were healing, converting, and spreading the good name of Lucidus. Overall, they were raising morale within the city while singing the Scourge’s—and his—praises. He was pleased with the work they were doing on his behalf. They would be his way of shaping public opinion in the city going forward. He was already thinking of ways that the priests could be utilized to better effect.
Yes, it does, Slate said archly. He wasn’t going to admit to the priest that he was pleased with his work. He wanted the priest to stay on his toes until Slate had a better idea of what the First Enticer’s intentions were. It didn’t escape him that, while he could feel the mind and intentions of all the Enticer’s created by Fidem, he couldn’t discern the aims of the man himself. That meant that Slate wouldn’t trust him until he could determine what the priest wanted and the amount of loyalty, he was willing to give to Slate.
Slate was aware that this was likely a message from Lucidus telling him that he needed to get with the program. He wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea. He just had a difficult time letting go of control and accepting that some of his future decisions would require faith in a deity over whom he had no influence and whose agenda was beyond his capacity to understand. Shale shot him a glance from where she sat, and he realized that he must be projecting his feelings through the bond. Now that the Scourgemind had changed, he could feel that it had more nuance. He had been letting his emotions slip through, but they hadn’t spread to the rest of the Scourge. Only Shale picked up on the tone and tenor of his thoughts.
That’s probably a good thing, he considered. If I, or Shale, were enraged, it would be counterproductive for the rest of the Scourge to fly off the handle as well. He considered the many times that they had descended into a blood frenzy as they were killing their opponents. That was fine during a small-scale battle, but he could imagine how it would become a disaster once the Scourge grew more significant in number.
He ignored her silent question and addressed the room. With that out of the way, does anyone have anything to say before we move on to planning our next steps?
Sumnu raised two of his hands. It was slightly humorous that the immense engine of death and destruction was raising his hands like a common schoolchild.
Are we not going to discuss the presence of the ambassador, my Lord? That was what we were initially here to talk about.
Slate pressed a hand to his forehead. Forgive me. I completely forgot about her presence. The admission was utterly sincere, Slate had considered the matter of the ambassador settled, and his analytical mind was already moving on to what they needed to do next.
Right now, the ambassador isn’t much of a threat, he started. She has more knowledge than I thought she would have, but the Ignatum Empire is still far from equipped with the requisite intelligence to confront us at this time.
Matek nodded in agreement, having already made the same assessment. Sumnu, still not satisfied, again addressed Slate.
So, why is it a good idea to let her remain in the palace? He asked. The Raider was genuinely curious. He was an excellent warrior and a more-than-capable commander, but he could sense that this kind of political maneuvering was beyond his expertise.
Surprisingly, Fidem agreed with Sumnu. I do not like her presence in the palace. His tone was soft, but there was a hardness to it that Slate couldn’t quite understand. His words felt like a sword wrapped in silk. Soft to the touch, but deadly with a swing.
Fidem continued after noticing Slate’s puzzled look, she believes in the Lord of Spectral Flame.
Matek looked at the priest like he was an idiot before cutting in, we need to know what she knows. We need to know if the Empire has agents within Bastion, and we need to gather knowledge about what’s happening in the Empire. It isn’t safe to have her in the palace—not precisely. But I’ll have a Lurker watch her at all times. She’s a source of information. It doesn’t matter what deity she believes in.
Of course, it matters what deity she believes in. Fidem’s voice was gentle, but it held a mild-mannered rebuke. Everyone else looked over at the priest. The rebuke had been delivered to Matek, but everyone at the table knew it was meant for Slate. Few had been willing to criticize the Scion even in such a manner as this. Slate listened to feedback, but any sense of being challenged was met with brutal and uncompromising force. They were curious about what the Scourge leader’s response would be.
It does matter what she believes in, he said smoothly. In the best-case scenario, she’s an adversary. In the worst-case scenario, she’s the enemy. Fidem looked pleased until Slate continued. Allegiance to Lucidus and a desire to win the Immortal War doesn’t allow us many options. As a potential enemy, we need to learn more about her and where she comes from. It’s likely that, when we’re done with the Vallyr, we’ll have to deal with the Empire.
He met Matek’s eyes. It doesn’t bode well that they’ve already sent an ambassador so soon after we conquered Bastion and destroyed Standur. It indicates that the Empire has a comprehensive information collection system within the Collective. Either the Empire has formidable clandestine intelligence collection capabilities, or the Collective is already falling apart. No high-functioning nation would have such poor internal security.
Matek nodded in agreement. The Circle has been able to exploit the poor stewardship of the Collective’s territory to gather our own infor
mation. Corruption and nepotism have rotted the nation at its core. The Vallyr’s ability to feed on the terror inspired by their soul-based magic is the only thing keeping it going. The Empire would be fools not to capitalize on this opportunity and make a play for the Collective now.
Slate noticed that Fidem looked completely serene, even cheerful, although his position had been rejected. Slate couldn’t tell what the First Enticer was thinking, and that bothered him. Having a completely inscrutable subordinate with intentions contrary to one’s own was asking to take a serpent to bed. It wasn’t something that he could do anything about at the moment, so Slate let his worry over the situation settle. He would pursue it more if Fidem did anything to betray him. Right now, he was useful, and so long as that continued, Slate wouldn’t have a reason to remove him. He could leave the religious decisions to the priests, and hopefully, they would leave the political decisions to him. He threw a bone to Fidem anyway.
Listen, Fidem. The Lord of Light selected me because she needed someone with my political experience. He watched the man sneer at the word “political,” and Slate restrained himself from tearing the man’s head from his body.
I will leave the religious decisions to you and your followers. Slate said roughly. Trust me to manage the political choices. Lucidus does.
After a moment, the First Enticer nodded, Of course, my Lord, I will be of assistance to you in any way that you require.
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