Solyrian Conspiracy - C M Raymond & L E Barbant

by Michael Anderle

“And how will these dangerous people react when you bring back the dead body of a girl they seem to love?” Hannah asked. “Kirill hasn’t thought it through. His execution almost started a riot. If you bring back her bloody body, the city will explode. And they’d be right to. Is this who you signed up to serve? A king who kills without any real process?”

  Irmand didn’t say a word. He stood silent, and Hannah could only presume that he was considering her message.

  "So, you knew about this place, and you knew Aliz would be coming here," Hannah finally said.

  Irmand shook his head. "This place? Of course, I didn't. If we’d had any clue about the whereabouts of the Blue Scarves, we might've been able to root them out weeks ago. I saw you and your dragon leave the town square, and figured I’d follow my gut. I'm only here thanks to you."

  "Wait, you kept up with a flying dragon?"

  Irmand laughed. “We have these natural things in our part of the world; you might have heard of them. They're called horses. Mine happens to be particularly fast."

  Hannah smirked. “Properly speaking, Sal is also ‘natural.’ At least, at root, he is. But enough dithering about our steeds. Are we going to do this or what?”

  Irmand nodded. “Follow me.” He headed down the hall, and Hannah allowed him to lead again. She thought he could do less harm in front of her.

  They arrived at a door built into a spot in the corridor that had been hewn more carefully than the rest of the cavern. Irmand raised his sword with his right hand and reached for the knob with his left.

  "By the sword was not our agreement," Hannah reminded him.

  "The Blue Scarves are a merciless bunch. You should not expect to cross this threshold and be greeted by drinks and snacks. Once I open this door, all hell might break loose. I prefer to be ready."

  Hannah said nothing, and her silence must have told Irmand to proceed. The captain of the Solyrian guard threw open the door and rushed into the room, ready to get the jump on his adversaries, but when they stepped in, they found the room empty. There was no Aliz, no anyone.

  A single solitary table sat in the middle of the space. Smoldering embers in the fire burned on the far side. Hannah crossed the room and looked down at scraps of paper lying face-up on the table. Irmand joined her. He scanned them quickly, pausing only on occasion.

  "These are their plans.”

  Hannah nodded. Irmand was right. She noted the drawing of the building that had burned in the middle of Solyr; places were marked out at certain points on the perimeter. She assumed that was how they had coordinated where different members of the resistance would start the fires. Another page had a diagram of the city, arrows pointing down the promenade toward the square. "The stampede?"

  Irmand nodded. There were several more pages, and Irmand took the time to tell Hannah about the lesser threats they had dealt with before Team BBB arrived at their gates. There was something in his voice, something broken. He was a man who knew he had somehow failed his people.

  For the first time, Hannah felt true empathy for him. She knew the kind of responsibility he shouldered and what kind of weight it could become.

  "But what's next?" Irmand asked.

  Hannah walked over to the hearth and knelt on the warm stones. She ran her fingers through light white ash close to the fire. "It looks like the future will remain a mystery. Apparently, Aliz, or whoever was here, knew we were coming, and they didn't want us to know what's next."

  "Smart," Irmand said. "But why leave the old plans?"

  Hannah shrugged. "Could have been due to haste or carelessness."

  "Or maybe they wanted us to find them," he replied.

  "Could be," Hannah agreed. "Those who traffic in terror for the sake of a cause always want the credit. It gives them more power if you, and more importantly, if Kirill knows they are well-coordinated and resolute. That's how you win this kind of gambit."

  Hannah thought back to her own siege against Adrien, his guard, and the nobles in Arcadia. The Blue Scarves’ tactics weren't all that different from her own when she and her team were trying to overthrow the regime in her hometown.

  "Right," Hannah said, "so the plans have been burned and they’re not here, which can only mean they're preparing for the next attack."

  Irmand nodded and paced the room. "Each of them has been bigger than the last. I can only imagine that they are going to reach their climax soon, gods help us. There's only one target that they can have in mind for the next act of terror."

  Hannah felt her throat constrict. "Aurel’s funeral."

  "That's right," he answered. "The inhabitants of this city, both Myrna and Mylek, loved the king. The whole damn town is going to be at this event. If they’re smart, and they are, that's the next target." Irmand glanced at the fire and the light white ash. "We might not know what they're going to do, but we have a pretty good idea where they're going to do it."

  Hannah studied the man's posture and the features of his face. Clearly, he was a citizen of Solyr and a civil servant. If there was nothing else Hannah had become good at over the last handful of years, it was judging character. And as far as she could tell, this was an upstanding man.

  "We both came here to bring Aliz in. What's the next move?" she asked.

  “We work together. Stop whatever the hell they’re planning.”

  Hannah saw where he was coming from, but still, she was reticent to go all-in on some sort of partnership with the captain of the guard. Even if Irmand was a man of good intentions, she didn't trust Kirill, but she decided to give him a chance. "Let's go. The funeral is only hours away, and I expect you and I both want to brief our teams."

  A smile spread on Irmand's face. "Days ago, I figured you for a no-good outsider.”

  Hannah shrugged. "I figured you for a no-good asshat, so I guess we’re in similar situations."

  Hannah led them back out through the tunnels toward the mouth of the cavern. She could feel the freshness of the late morning breeze on her face as she pushed through the squeeze and out under the cobalt-blue sky. She wasn't surprised to feel a sense of ease at being outside the cavern, even if she never considered herself the slightest bit claustrophobic. She was, however, surprised to be staring into the beady black eyes of an oversized newt with wings.

  "Sal? What the hell? I told you to go back and help Parker," she said almost sternly.

  Sal beat his tail on the ground and jerked his head in the direction of a small path that led off into the woods.

  "What is it?" Hannah asked, realizing quite well that her dragon had not yet learned to speak. She made a mental note to work on that.

  He slammed his tail on the ground again and walked toward the trail.

  "I think he wants us to follow him," Irmand interjected.

  "No shit, detective."

  "Has anybody ever told you you’re a smartass?" he asked.

  "I don't think I’ve ever met anybody who didn't call me a smartass.” Hannah looked at Sal, who had preceded them down the path. He paused and looked over his shoulder, waiting for his master to follow.

  “We don’t have time for this,” the captain said.

  Hannah shook her head. "Trust me, Irmand. When Sal says something is important, it's important. For the most part, that big hunk of scales only wants to lie around eating, sleeping, and drinking kaffe."

  "Kaffe?"

  Hannah laughed. "I guess the strange brew of the druids hasn’t made it this far east. No big. You need to trust me; he isn’t a stupid beast. Let's give Sal a few minutes. If it's nothing, we can head back to the city ASAP, but I imagine it will be something big. Maybe something very big."

  Hannah didn't wait for him to answer. She took off down the trail behind her dragon. If Irmand decided to go back to town, that was his lookout. She couldn't blame him; they were newcomers after all. She was surprised and maybe even delighted when she heard him grumbling under his breath behind her. But the grumbling turned to silence when the smell of death and decay struck them. The odor
swam around them. It felt smothering.

  Irmand grunted through the crook of his arm that he had raised to his nose to block out the odor. “It’s a stench from the depths of hell.”

  "You might be right. Death and hell are never too far away, even on this side of the Madness."

  She pushed on and she found Sal in the middle of the clearing, standing with his claws on the edge of a giant pit. Hannah stepped up to it, Irmand at her side. They both stared silently into what could only be called a mass grave. Bodies, naked and entangled, filled half the hole. She glanced at Irmand, whose mouth had dropped open. His face was pale.

  "Those…those are my men," Irmand finally stammered. He shook his head. "Yes. They are. I knew each of them by name."

  Hannah dropped her left hand to his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. This was the only comfort she could offer at a time like this to a man she hardly knew.

  Irmand continued, "Those are them, the ones that we thought had been abandoning our ranks over the past month. I have to say, I find myself ashamed. Valiant men, each and every one of them, and I assumed they had run for the hills with their tails between their legs."

  "There's no need for shame, Irmand."

  He coughed to clear his throat, and maybe to shove back his emotions in front of the stranger. "But there is. I dishonored these men's names, and now I have my answer. The Blue Scarves got to them. Stripped my men of their dignity."

  Hannah looked again at the bodies that lay nude in the open grave. "Their dignity and their bodies. Why take their clothes?”

  Irmand turned away from the pit and spat on the ground. "I will find the person responsible for this and hang her by her toenails from the city wall. When Aliz is still gasping her final breath, I will open her from sternum to pelvis and allow her to watch her entrails fall out before the whole city."

  "Okay, I know you're upset, but that’s still kinda gross."

  Irmand looked Hannah straight in the face. "Aliz deserves nothing but the worst. She has not only worked to disrupt our society, but now she has disgraced my men. You say she deserves due process? Perhaps. But once tried, she will face not only justice but vengeance. It’s the only way to atone for my failure."

  Hannah tilted her head toward him. She could only imagine the man's indignation. For years, she fought beside the most able warriors Irth had ever known. She knew what loss looked like. She was watching a leader mourn the loss of many.

  She felt his pain. And his anger.

  “You’re not the only one who failed. I gave Aliz the benefit of the doubt once. I won’t do it again. But the justice you seek will only be found in the city now.”

  He nodded. "It will indeed, Hannah. Let us go, and let the sword of the Matriarch go with us."

  Chapter Forty-Four

  They dragged Vitali deeper into the tunnels and shoved him into an empty room. Empty, except for Thaed’s corpse crumpled in a corner.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Vitali said. “You didn’t have to hurt him.”

  “No,” said the man in the mask. “But I wanted to.”

  He nodded to one of his goons, who slugged Vitali in the stomach. The Lynqi’s legs were weak, but two other masked figures held him up under the arms.

  “I’ll make this simple,” the man told him. “I want to know what you know, and you’re going to tell me.”

  “Answer a question for me first.” He tried to keep his voice calm, as if this were a discussion over kaffe. “What happened to your nose?”

  The man laughed. “I ran into a small nuisance the other night.”

  Aysa, Vitali thought, a smile on his face. That’s her handiwork.

  “If I had to guess, it looks like that nuisance ran into you.”

  Another metal-enclosed fist to the stomach.

  “You understand why we’re doing this, right?” the man asked, less as a question than a threat. “We need to maintain order in this city. The Mylek scum want to tear it apart. We’re the only ones keeping it together.

  Vitali showed his fangs. He imagined what Aysa would say if she were in this situation. “Screw you, asshats. You can do whatever you want to me, but Hannah will find you. You don’t know what it means to see something torn apart, but you will.”

  The man pulled off his mask, his eyes black and full of rage. Vitali could tell he was choosing from a menu of spells he could use on him.

  “If that dumb girl you follow is so powerful, why hasn’t she seen through Kirill? Our leader has played her like the fool she is. He knows everything. He reads the hearts of men and crushes them beneath his boots. Perhaps your Hannah is not as strong as you think.”

  Vitali considered that. He knew Hannah could read minds, but she didn’t know about Kirill’s cover-up, or the goons he had working for him.

  “You see?” the man exclaimed. “You’re all alone down here. The Queen Bitch herself couldn’t save you.” He raised a fist, which burst into flames. He held it close to Vitali’s face.

  “So, I want to know what you know. And you’re going to tell me.”

  Vitali considered making a threat but broke into laughter instead. “I know everything. Everything. I know about Aurel’s affair with a Mylek woman. I know your prince is desperate to cover it up. And more importantly, I know why. I know about the child.”

  The man stood up, shock written on his face.

  “You don’t know,” Vitali said. “All this, and you don’t even know what your boss is asking you to cover up? Some leader.”

  “Shut up,” the man snarled.

  “Tell me,” Vitali continued, “what do you think this exalted ruler of yours will do when this is done? If he went to these lengths to keep this secret, do you really think he’d leave you alive, now that you know? Maybe you’re the one being played for a fool.”

  “I said, shut up!”

  The man’s hand burst into flames again and he swung at Vitali’s face.

  Just like Vitali was hoping he would.

  Vitali reached out with his shackled hands and wrapped the chain around the man’s arm. He pulled hard to the side, the fire touching the cloak of the man who held him on the right. He used his legs, not nearly as weak as he had feigned, to take down the man on his left. Hours of training had paid off.

  He was alone with the leader now.

  Vitali pulled the chain harder and heard the satisfying sound of the man’s arm breaking.

  “This is for Thaed.”

  He pushed the broken arm, still on fire, into the man’s chest and held it there until the flames grew too high.

  Vitali left the room smelling of burned flesh and hair.

  Despite the dark, winding layout of the cells, he found his way back to the old woman easily enough. She stared at him wide-eyed.

  “You really do serve the Matriarch.”

  “I try my best,” Vitali said. He managed to detach the woman’s chains from the wall, but like him, her arms remained shackled together. “We better get out of here. There’s no telling how many more of those black masks are down here, and with my arms shackled, I won’t be quite as capable of holding them off.”

  “I think I can help with that,” she said. Her eyes blazed yellow, and Vitali watched in awe as her arms doubled in size. The metal around her wrists buckled before shattering completely. She snapped the chains around Vitali’s hands like common twine.

  “Wow,” was all he could muster.

  “Still underestimating me?” She smiled.

  “Never again,” he said. “Now let’s go. I have to find Hannah. I think I know who the murderer is!”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Rows and rows of chairs had been set up in the town square, thousands of them. Hannah could only guess that Kirill had called all hands on deck to prepare for the grand funeral of his father. She and her crew stood at the back of the crowd, filled with an anxious itch ever since Hannah shared what she and Irmand had found in the cavern.

  Karl, one hand gripping his hammer, muttered under
his breath, "Looks like a good place fer a slaughter to me. Whether from them scarf people or Kirill and his ilk, I can’t guess."

  "All places being equal, yeah. Someone could create a shit-ton of carnage here. That's why we have to stop it before it begins," Aysa replied.

  “Aye, and as soon as ye let me know what ‘it’ is, I’ll squash it under me boot.”

  Hannah kept her eyes on the platform, where Irmand stood next to Kirill. His face was still pale, his body straight as a pole. Just like Karl, his hand was on his weapon, waiting for the attack he had expected would inevitably descend on their citizens.

  "Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open," she said to her team. "Karl is right. The people are exposed here. Irmand has assured me his city guard will help us when the time comes.”

  “Can you trust him?” Parker asked.

  Hannah looked at the soldier. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  As she spoke, a band dressed in the city’s traditional garb began to play a dirge from the platform. The council sat in a row of chairs in the shadow of the giant statue of the Matriarch that towered over them, keeping watch. The congregation followed suit and took their seats. The song went on for minutes. Hannah heard sniffles and blowing noses from those gathered.

  Then, without warning, from behind them, a mighty horn blasted over the sound of the band, which continued to play a harmony beneath.

  At the sound, the council stood once again, and the crowd did the same. In one swift move, Kirill covered his heart with his right fist and raised his eyes toward the back of the square. Everyone assembled followed suit, and the citizens in their seats turned to face the procession.

  Slowly, a pair of yoked oxen plodded into the square.

  "Hey, is that who I think it is?" Aysa whispered.

  Hannah couldn't help but smile as she hushed the Baseeki girl. "Definitely not, so don't wait for Sal to jump out and save your ass."

  “I’m sure the big oaf’s around here someplace,” she continued, her eyes scanning the sky.

  “Aye. He always is.” Karl grunted.