The Ouroboros Cycle, Book Three: A Long-Awaited Treachery

by G. D. Falksen

  “They have set up the Maxim guns to defend the exits,” Koba said, shaking his head. “And the volley guns from the armory. Few as their numbers are, even the Living would not make it past them.”

  Varanus folded her arms and addressed Magnus:

  “Let us avoid any moments of ‘death or glory’ for the time being, Doctor Eriksen. We should find a secure location and make plans.”

  She liked the idea of having allies on hand to help her, but she was not about to leave without first finding Ekaterine. She meant to do a proper search of the castle before she would entertain thoughts of fleeing into the countryside.

  And besides, there was her laboratory to consider. She did not intend to leave decades of work and notes behind where they could be rifled through, damaged, or plagiarized by anyone. Moving her materials to a place of safety would require a great deal of work, and she had not quite yet worked out how she was going to manage it.

  “Liebchen, surely your life is more important than your work!” protested Korbinian, as he leaned past Magnus and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Nonsense,” Varanus murmured back to him. More loudly, she asked her companions, “Where are we to go?”

  “Not our rooms,” said Judith. “They’ll be searched once Margaret knows who is against her.”

  “Perhaps the archives?” suggested Varanus. Hopefully, she could induce the others to help her search for Ekaterine.

  “Too dangerous,” replied Joan. “Too far away. We need a hiding place on this floor, in this wing...or very near to it. And then we can plan where we are to go next.”

  Vaclav frowned and started to offer a suggestion, but he quickly reconsidered it with a shake of his head.

  “I...I know a place,” Koba said, a little hesitantly. After all, he was still very young and perhaps felt uncertain about speaking over his elders.

  “Where?” Vaclav asked.

  * * * *

  Koba led them to one of the inner sections of the wing where it adjoined the original stronghold that formed one of the earliest parts of the castle. Joan and Magnus went ahead with him, while Vaclav and Anuka trailed behind to cover the rear. Varanus was still annoyed at having no weapon, and she considered demanding that Koba relinquish one of his, but she thought better of it.

  They came to a dark reading room with wood-paneled walls and hanging tapestries. There were a few shelves of books, but their contents were mostly inconsequential. The purpose of the room was simply quiet study. Koba looked around to be sure that they were alone before he went to one of the tapestries and began searching behind it. A few moments later, he motioned for them to follow and then ducked behind the tapestry, vanishing from sight. When the tapestry fell back into place, there was no sign of the young man lurking behind it.

  “A secret passage! How exciting!” Korbinian exclaimed in delight.

  Varanus raised an eyebrow at him, but she followed all the same. Slipping behind the tapestry, she saw that Koba had opened a concealed door in the paneling that led into a short stone passageway. The others followed her in, and Koba quickly closed the door behind them.

  “I knew of our secret passages,” said Judith, “but I did not know about this one.”

  “I discovered it a year ago,” Koba explained, lighting a lamp that had been left by the door and leading them into the darkness. “I am surely not the only person who knows of it, but I’ve never seen anyone else enter here.”

  They came to a room of moderate size, contained entirely within the old walls of the castle, with no windows to betray its presence. The lamplight revealed mosaics upon the walls and intricate, decorative brickwork. Even in shadow, even at such an age, the vibrancy of the colors had not been diminished. There were also countless chests of drawers that, upon investigation, were revealed to contain ancient rolls of parchment.

  Joan and Vaclav began examining the room with astonishment that soon grew into excitement. Varanus glanced at the others and saw that they were as ignorant to the room’s significance as she.

  “Do you know what this place is?” asked Joan.

  “It cannot be,” said Vaclav. “But here it is.”

  “I have no idea,” Koba told them, as he began to light the host of candles that filled the corners of the room, casting away the darkness. “I just thought it was a nice, quiet place to read.”

  “It is the private chapel of Nino of Imereti,” Vaclav exclaimed. “I didn’t think it truly existed.”

  “I had always assumed it to be in the catacombs,” Joan told him, gazing at the images on the walls. “Imagine: this is where she meditated on the very nature of faith and where she held dialogues on the question of how and why we believe.”

  “Astounding,” Vaclav agreed.

  So that was it, Varanus thought. The room meant little to her, but it had been used by one of the Companions during the early days of the Shashavani Order. That indeed gave it significance, though she had little interest in the studies of even a great philosopher. Surely, the private laboratory of Konstantine would make for a much more interesting discovery.

  “How could you not have revealed this place, Koba?” demanded Judith. “The history in this place!”

  “It has only been a year,” Koba protested, a little sheepishly. “I meant to get around to it eventually.”

  Vaclav gave Koba a stern look like an admonishing father and said, “You are far too young for a year to have so little significance to you, my boy. After a century, then that is a valid excuse.”

  “Surely other people must know of this place, My Lord,” said Anuka, coming to Koba’s defense. “Out of all the Shashavani, Koba is the one to discover so important a place?”

  Koba shot her a look.

  “Thank you,” he said, though his tone was one of protest.

  “I find it unlikely as well,” agreed Magnus. “I suspect that there are others, but few enough. We might not be discovered here.”

  He almost sounded disappointed.

  “It will do for now,” said Joan. She motioned for the others to join her in the center of the room. “For now, let us rest and plan. We have much work ahead of us. We must determine if there is anyone else who is loyal and still free, and if so, we must rescue them before they are lost to us.”

  “Agreed,” said Vaclav. “And we must get food. We may not need it now, but in the coming days, we will feel hunger. And if we are injured in fighting, that hunger will become all the worse. Food stores of some sort may mean the difference between life and death.”

  Varanus raised a finger to draw attention to herself.

  “If you will pardon the interruption,” she said, “there is something we need even more than food at this moment.”

  “And what is that, Doctor?” Vaclav asked.

  “Weapons,” Varanus replied, “and lots of them.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  •

  “And how do you propose we arm ourselves, Doctor Varanus, when the armories are under guard?” demanded Magnus. “Or have you changed your mind about a head-on attack?”

  “Nonsense,” Varanus said. “We will go to Luka’s chambers. I doubt very much that our enemies would bother to place them under guard, and I know that Luka has his own supply of weapons there.”

  “This is true,” Koba added. “I have seen them. He has a significant arsenal.”

  Joan frowned and folded her arms. “This I do not doubt, but we must be cautious. If you know of his private...supply of arms, surely others do as well, perhaps even those among our enemies. And what if he is disloyal? What if he has already distributed those weapons among Margaret’s soldiers?”

  “No!” Koba exclaimed, so furious at the very suggestion that he forgot himself before his elders. “That is impossible!”

  Anuka laid a hand on Koba’s shoulder to calm him, but she answered in agreement:


  “Lord Luka would never betray us. I would trust that with my life.”

  Varanus was not inclined to offer up her very life on the matter, but she did have faith in Luka’s loyalty. After all, he had been Lord Iosef’s sworn brother and comrade for almost two hundred years. Iosef was too good a judge of character to associate so closely with a traitor. After all, he had seen the wisdom in making Varanus one of the Shashavani: such foresight could not be easily fooled by deceit.

  “I have always admired your modesty, liebchen,” Korbinian murmured in her ear, his sarcasm light and teasing.

  “Hush,” Varanus murmured back.

  “I agree that Luka would be an unlikely traitor,” said Joan, “but as I say, we must be cautious. And perhaps we should more fully explore these passages before venturing outside. Who knows where else they may lead?”

  Vaclav nodded. “There is wisdom in that, Sister, but still, now is the time when they are most disorganized. Once they have finished with the prisoners, Margaret’s soldiers will no doubt begin to patrol in search of stragglers. We may not have this chance again.”

  “So which do we choose?” asked Magnus.

  “That is the question,” agreed Vaclav.

  Judith coughed softly to get their attention.

  “We should do both,” she said. “Some of us should remain and search the passages; some of us should acquire the weapons. A smaller group is less likely to be noticed in the corridors, surely.”

  “She’s right,” Varanus said quickly. “I will go to Luka’s chambers and find the weapons. Who will accompany me?”

  “I will,” replied Vaclav. He looked at Varanus and gave her a confident smile, which pleased Varanus. She had hoped for his support, just in case something unfortunate happened along the way.

  “And I!” added Magnus, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword.

  Varanus sighed. That was not quite what she’d had in mind.

  “And so shall I,” said Koba.

  “No, you will not,” Joan told him. She looked at Anuka. “Nor you. You are both far too young for such a risk, and you still walk in the Shadow. If we are injured in this mad venture, we will heal. Either of you may die. Besides, Koba, you discovered this place—”

  “And failed to mention it to anyone,” noted Vaclav.

  “You should be the one to map it,” Joan finished, smiling slightly.

  Koba was about to protest, but Anuka shushed him and bowed her head to Joan.

  “Of course, My Lady,” she said.

  Impatient with the delay, Varanus cleared her throat and headed for the door.

  “Excellent, it’s decided. Come along, Father Vaclav...and whomever else.”

  * * * *

  To Varanus’s relief, Luka’s chambers had been left as yet untouched. Perhaps Margaret’s soldiers had been too busy taking the scholars prisoner to worry about ransacking. But they would, no doubt, return to loot the place before long.

  As an officer and as Iosef’s bodyguard, Luka enjoyed private quarters rather than occupying a place in the communal barracks with the other young soldiers. Normally the privilege of such privacy would not be given to a Shashavani of the Shadow less than three hundred years of age, but close association to Iosef—and by extension to Lady Sophio—carried with it certain advantages. Varanus herself enjoyed far larger quarters than she normally would have at her age.

  But in keeping with Luka’s tastes, the place was still small and spare, combining military stoicism with simple, homely comforts. The walls were bare stone, the floors bare wood, the furniture was not upholstered, and the fabrics were all rough wool rather than fine silk. Of course, there was a tremendous amount of wine, bottled and housed on a rack in one corner.

  And there were weapons, shelf upon shelf of them: rifles and muskets displayed on the walls, swords and daggers in cases, and countless other curiosities of a martial nature scattered about the room. It was the most cluttered yet tidy room that Varanus had ever seen, and that was entirely the fault of the armaments.

  The smell of tobacco hung in the air, and Varanus coughed several times to clear her nose and throat. Vaclav and Magnus were similarly affected. Those in the Shadow might enjoy the habit of smoking, but the senses of the Living were far too powerful to tolerate such a coarse odor.

  “Ah, empty,” Magnus said. He sounded disappointed.

  “Indeed,” said Varanus. “Let’s not waste our good fortune.”

  She went to the nearest wall and began emptying it of its weapons, placing them lengthwise in the center of Luka’s bed. Carrying them all would be a nuisance, so she decided it would be best to wrap them up in Luka’s blankets and transport them like a bundle of sticks.

  Vaclav and Magnus quickly joined her, selecting the largest calibre firearms and the sturdiest blades. If it came to fighting the Living, the weapons would either need to inflict great trauma or be tremendously sharp and precise.

  “Ammunition,” Korbinian reminded Varanus, as he reclined at the head of the bed.

  “Ammunition,” Varanus echoed aloud, for the benefit of Magnus and Vaclav. “Check the chests and drawers.”

  “I will find it,” Vaclav said.

  And find it, he did. It took a few minutes of searching, but presently Vaclav opened a large, iron-bound chest and found it filled with boxes of cartridges, both paper and metallic, of varying sizes, all neatly arranged for convenience. While a number of Shashavani soldiers still preferred musket balls and loose powder, Luka had taken to modern armaments quite easily, as witnessed by his insistence on buying the “latest thing” in warfare to have been invented each time he went abroad.

  “We have little time,” Vaclav said, as he closed the chest again and lifted it onto one shoulder. “We should return as quickly as we are able.”

  “Agreed,” Varanus said.

  She placed atop her pile of weapons the crowning piece of the collection—a tremendous elephant gun of great beauty and decoration, which had probably seen more use killing people than elephants. Having taken everything she considered to be useful, she wrapped the blankets around the guns and hefted her bundle. Magnus did the same with his collection of swords and axes.

  Varanus checked to see that the passage was empty and led the way out of the room. They hurried back toward the hidden chapel, which was another floor up and halfway across the house. By now it seemed Margaret had made some progress with her prisoners, for they began to see small groups of soldiers patrolling the halls, though still in numbers too small to be of any great threat. Varanus and her companions merely hid in adjoining rooms or behind especially large pieces of furniture, preferring to avoid armed conflict wherever possible. While arms were more important than food, starvation would soon begin to gnaw at even the Living, and with starvation, their bodies would become slow to heal. Better not to tax themselves with hunger so early into their ordeal.

  But as they ascended a set of servants’ stairs—to better avoid detection—they heard the sounds of violence close at hand, coming from an academic hall adjoining the corridor. Varanus hurried to the doorway and glanced inside, while Vaclav and Magnus took up a position across from her.

  Inside, Varanus saw a small group of Shashavani huddled behind a makeshift barricade of tables, chairs, and benches. They were mostly scholars, but she did see two warriors—the Armenia noblewoman Zabel of Ani and her student, Amadeus of Savoy—both of them hard pressed to safeguard the others against the onslaught of armored soldiers, who dove in around them from all sides. The scholars did their best to aid Zabel and Amadeus, but three had already been cut down in the fighting, and the rest were gravely injured. Varanus recognized their leader as the Persian philosopher Reza of Samarkand, a member of the Council that had condemned her to confinement. She had the momentary thought of leaving him to his fate for confining her, but such a thing seemed uncharitable.

  “What ar
e we to do?” asked Magnus, his sword already in his hand.

  “Intervene, obviously,” Varanus replied, her tone almost scolding. “Now we need a plan—”

  At that moment, the soldiers, momentarily repulsed, regrouped at the center of the room. Their leader raised his sword above his head and shouted “For the Winter King!” And with that, the whole company charged the makeshift fortifications. Zabel, Amadeus, Reza, and the others braced themselves for the attack, but from the expressions on their faces, it seemed none of them held much hope for victory. They were all gravely wounded; had they not been among the Living, they would already be dead.

  Vaclav set down the case of ammunition and drew his sword. Magnus quickly dropped his bundle of weapons, making ready for battle.

  “A plan,” Varanus reminded. “I’ll intervene on the right flank. Father Vaclav, if you would—”

  “For Shashava and the Eristavi!” Magnus bellowed and charged headlong into the fray.

  Varanus sighed. “So much for a plan,” she said, and set her bundle of firearms on the floor. Searching through Magnus’s collection of melee weapons, she selected a pair of rather brutal-looking hand axes. “Once more unto the breach?” she asked Vaclav.

  “You go to the right, I shall go left,” Vaclav answered.

  Varanus hefted one of the axes to test the balance. It was very good.

  “Meet in the center,” she said.

  In a shared silence, she and Vaclav rushed into the room and charged the soldiers. Magnus was already in the midst of the fighting, but though his exuberance and skill at arms had already scored him three kills, it had cost him several nasty wounds that now bled freely. He would soon be hungry.

  After this, they would definitely need to find food.

  Varanus cut around the fighting to the right and dove into the enemy flank. Her small size and the silence of her arrival took the soldiers by surprise, and she brought down one man in two blows as she came upon him from behind.

  On the barricade, Amadeus suddenly fell as one of the soldiers drove the point-end of a glaive into his side. Amadeus cried out in pain, and his wound boiled fiercely. The soldier’s glaive was covered in freshly spilt Living blood, and it burned what it touched.