Blood of the Emperor Page 6

  “Died?” Kyori sputtered. “What do you mean died?”

  “The Aether failed completely is what I mean,” Arikasi grumbled. “It vanished from the Proxis and the war-mages alike all at once. It was as though it had been pulled back into the ground and had never been. It was bad enough that the spells of the war-mages could not be cast but the folds no longer functioned either. The manticorian line charged against the Imperial Legions and the Legions could not fall back quickly enough to defend themselves, nor could they use their fold markers to attack the rear lines. It was as though warfare had been thrown back to the barbarity of the ancients—and the barbarians destroyed us because of it. The manticores rolled up the valley like a tide. General Ch’pakra tried to flee with his guardian Cohort under the command of Tasjak but the goblin armies joined in from the east and cut them off. After that, it was madness.”

  “I can hardly believe it,” Kyori sputtered. “Is it possible that these anarchist fanatics have found a way to rob us of the Aether? It’s the foundation of our Empire! Without it, we’re…we’re…”

  “Calm yourself, friend Kyori,” Shebin said, resting her long, elegant hand on the arm of the old Aether mage. “They are barbarians. What do they know of Aether?”

  “This is terrible,” Ch’dak said, shaking his head. “With the defeat of both Legions our northern borders are vulnerable.”

  “We can reposition some of the southern Legions but it will take time,” Sjei said but he knew that it would most likely take a few weeks. Furthermore there was the problem of the missing Legions and how that might be explained in such a way as to make this debacle sound like a victory.

  “I trust not too much time,” Arikasi said, reexamining the scroll. “This is the only information…and I mean ONLY information…that we have secured north of Char. Port Glorious has not reported since before the battle. Trade and communication from all along the Shadow Coast has stopped. The seaport towns of Cape Tjakar and Port Dog are reportedly deserted—their inhabitants said to have fled either to Port Melthis or northeast to join up with the revolt. North of River Town there is a great silence and it is as though a veil had fallen over that land. We know practically nothing of what is going on in the northern reaches except the rumors being spread in Port Melthis about a legendary human returning from across the sea who is gathering everyone gullible enough to follow him into some kind of holy army.”

  “Drakis?” Shebin asked, a chill in her voice.

  Sjei winced. Shebin was a bright and cunning woman but on occasion he would prefer that she ask him her questions in private. Sjei never started an argument whose result had not been predetermined nor asked a question to which he did not already know the answer.

  “Yes,” Arikasi replied, looking down with puzzlement at the scroll. “How did you know?”

  CHAPTER 7

  The Secret

  “I AM COUNTING ON YOU, INQUISITOR,” she said in a raspy voice that echoed in the long, wide chamber of her lair. “I have chosen you for this task. Do not fail the Order. Do not fail me.”

  “You may depend on me,” answered the young Iblisi elf through a wide, needle-sharp grin as he bowed slightly, his hand to his chest.

  “Then go with my blessing,” the old woman replied, leaning back into her throne with a sigh. “And keep silent the truth you guard. Admit my next audience and close the doors behind you.”

  Ch’drei Tsi-Auruun, Keeper of the Iblisi, gave a dismissive motion with the back of her left hand. The young elf backed quickly away the required five steps before turning and striding toward the black, oiled doors at the far end of the Keeper’s Hall.

  Ch’drei closed her black, featureless eyes and drew in a deep breath. Somewhere above her, she knew, there was a warm wind blowing across the Imperial Capital from the south, bringing with it great, towering clouds of moisture from the distant Aergus Sea. The heat would build them up in the afternoon into dark tempests with lightning that would never touch the Imperial Palace and rain that would never dampen its walls. Yet here, on her underground throne, Ch’drei suddenly longed for the exhilaration of the flash, the thunder, and the cascade of cleansing downpour on her face. Instead she was entombed in the darkness, buried beneath her duty that hung over her more oppressively than the black stone ceiling that was only a hand’s breadth above where she sat.

  Ch’drei’s previous audience had barely begun to pull open the heavy doors before a female elf pushed through them. She was unusually tall for an elf and certainly tall for an Inquisitor as they were usually called for their lack of distinguishing characteristics. She had all the elements of elven beauty—elongated, elegantly tapered skull, finely pointed ears and prominent cheekbones above a pinched, narrow jaw with fine, sharp teeth and glossy black eyes. Yet despite the elegance of her individual features there was an indefinable something about the totality of them that was chilling.

  “Inquisitor K’yeran Tsi-M’harul,” the Keeper croaked in her scratchy, alto voice.

  “Keeper Ch’drei,” the Inquisitor responded as she stood before the open doors, her arms folded across her bony chest and her featureless eyes narrowed under a slightly furrowed brow.

  Is she actually waiting for me to cross the room to her? Ch’drei thought.

  “Close the door, K’yeran,” Ch’drei said.

  “I made it as far as Zhdras,” K’yeran continued as though she had not heard the Keeper’s command. “I should be in Port Dog—as you asked—to capture those ‘Bolters’ out of Char and get you the truth you said you needed. And yet here I am again.”

  “K’yeran,” Ch’drei said with monumental control. “Close the door so we can…”

  “I thought, ‘Surely the Keeper of the Iblisi must have some special need for me,’ ” K’yeran continued in defiance. “I push my way back through the folds I had just traversed three days before because I was certain—absolutely certain—that my Keeper would not have asked me to toss aside the mission she had given me herself and told me was critical to the survival of the Order—unless she needed me particularly…”

  “K’yeran, will you…”

  “And what do I arrive to find?” the younger elven woman continued without pause. “Your outer hall is choked with my fellow Inquisitors who have all been summoned back here by you for reassignment and I’m just another face in the lowing herd waiting in line until…”

  “Close your mouth, K’yeran!” Ch’drei snarled. “Close it now because if I have to close it, it will never open again.”

  K’yeran stopped talking at once but still made no move.

  The Inquisitors, Ch’drei thought. They are most useful when they are willful and independent—and at their most irritating.

  “Now, close the door and hear my council or you will never know why I have summoned you here and I’ll find someone else for the glory which I believe is your destiny to fulfill.”

  K’yeran blinked.

  Ch’drei waited. She knew that K’yeran would never let a secret pass by unknown and unexamined.

  The younger Iblisi unfolded her arms and turned. She could, no doubt, see the faces of the other Iblisi still standing in the hallway beyond. She pushed closed the heavy doors, turned and strode imperiously toward Ch’drei’s throne.

  “My apologies, Keeper Ch’drei,” K’yeran said though there was still a touch of defiance in her tone. “I serve the truth, the Emperor’s Will and that of the Keeper.”

  “Better, K’yeran,” Ch’drei responded with a cautioning undertone in her voice. “I have summoned all these Iblisi to the Keep and each one is being given an assignment which they believe is important and secret—but each of those assignments are a lie, a cover for the true mission which I have reserved for you.”

  “You honor me, Keeper,” K’yeran bowed slightly.

  “Then do not give me cause to regret the honor I do you,” Ch’drei said with an edge of contempt. “What do you know about an Inquisitor by the name of Soen?”

  “History or truth, my
Keeper?”

  “Truth,” Ch’drei affirmed.

  “Soen Tjen-rei was an honored and feared Inquisitor of our Order,” K’yeran responded at once. “As an Inquisitor in the field he was considered imaginative, resourceful, and dispassionate in his service to the Iblisi and the truth we protect. His methods were often unorthodox but always justified by their results. I have never worked with him in any Quorum but I did meet him once…nine years ago, I believe. And…”

  The voice of the Inquisitor fell into silence.

  “And?” Ch’drei prompted.

  “It is known among the Inquisitors that he was favored by you,” K’yeran responded. “I also know that he disappeared some months back as the result of an operation gone rogue. I know that you want him back.”

  Ch’drei closed her eyes. Yes. Truth is spoken in this hall today. It is unfortunate that I am so constrained to lie.

  “What do you know of recent events in the Northern Provinces?”

  “Is the Keeper asking for history or truth?” K’yeran asked, raising her right brow.

  “In this room we never deal with history,” the Keeper lied.

  “Then the truth is that the Legion of the Northern Fist marched forth beyond the Northern Steppes in pursuit of a growing army of rebels in the name of the Emperor’s Will and for the reality of increased property acquisition by the Modalis,” K’yeran said. “It might even have turned into most profitable war for the Modalis if something had not caused a failure of the Aether Wells all along the northern frontier at a most inopportune time. Now the northern Legions are missing—apparently permanently—and now there is no information coming from the north. That was, I believe, why you sent me there in the first place; to find out what the true conditions were in Nordesia before the Modalis could discover it.”

  “And you shall carry out that mission still,” Ch’drei nodded, her long fingers clenching and unclenching the smooth, worn ends of the chair’s armrests. “But that will be secondary to your personal mission.”

  “And what personal mission may I undertake for the Keeper of the Iblisi?” K’yeran asked with a slight smile.

  The best lie is leavened generously with the truth.

  “Soen Tjen-rei is known to be moving with the camp of the rebels,” Ch’drei said.

  “He has renounced his Order?” K’yeran said with surprise.

  “No, he has not renounced,” Ch’drei snapped. Why this woman couldn’t let her finish was beyond her understanding. Lies should not be interrupted in the telling. “He has been enchanted with Ephindrian magic by the agents of their exiled queen. You need to find him…”

  “And kill him?” K’yeran interrupted with relish.

  “No!” Ch’drei leaned forward. “Killing him would be difficult enough, I assure you, but I want you to do something far more difficult.”

  “My Keeper?” K’yeran smiled broadly though there was no warmth in it. “How may I serve you?”

  “You must bring him back to me here at the Keep alive and functional,” Ch’drei said. “Say anything you must…do anything you must…but bring him here personally to me yourself.”

  “I am most flattered,” K’yeran replied with an icy chuckle, “but from what I have heard of this Soen he will not come just because I smile at him.”

  “You will take one Quorum with you to assist,” the Keeper said, running her tongue over her sharp teeth after she spoke. “Choose who you must but bury the truth of your quest in the lie. Only you must know of this.”

  “I am looking forward to it,” K’yeran answered with another slight bow. “Where do you want me to start looking for this Soen?”

  Ch’drei considered for a moment before speaking. Where was it that I was to send this one? Oh, yes…

  “He was last seen north of Char,” Ch’drei spoke.

  “Char?” K’yeran laughed at the irony. “That is where I was going when you recalled me.”

  “Then you will know where to find it,” Ch’drei said, her voice weary. This will be a very long day.

  “Then I shall find this Soen for you,” K’yeran smiled once more. “And, though it goes against my better judgment, I will bring him back to you in a single piece so that you may convince him of the error of his ways.”

  “I am counting on you, Inquisitor,” Ch’drei said softly. “I have chosen you for this task. Do not fail the Order. Do not fail me.”

  “I have never yet,” K’yeran nodded.

  “Then go with my blessing,” the old woman replied, leaning back into her throne as she waved a dismissive hand at K’yeran. “And keep silent the truth you guard. Admit my next audience as you leave.”

  K’yeran swung open the heavy doors and stepped through, bumping shoulders with another Iblisi who seemed as much in a hurry to enter the room as K’yeran was to leave it. He snarled at her but she took no notice of him, passing in chilly serenity between the other Iblisi lining the hall beyond.

  “Inquisitor Tsugai Xi-re,” Ch’drei nodded in greeting as the next elven Iblisi entered the chamber.

  “Keeper Ch’drei,” the Inquisitor responded with a bow toward the Keeper.

  How many times must I play this scene? Ch’drei thought.

  “Close the door, Tsugai,” Ch’drei said.

  The elven Inquisitor turned, pushing the massive doors closed and then turned back to face the Keeper. “I serve the truth, the Emperor’s Will and that of the Keeper.”

  “As do we all,” Ch’drei said wearily. “You have noticed your fellow Iblisi gathered with you to the Keep?”

  “I have, Ch’drei,” Tsugai answered as he strode across the hall toward the throne, his boots echoing loudly against the stone floor. “It seems all the Empire is bereft of Inquisitors today by your will.”

  “I have summoned all these Iblisi as I summoned you. Each one is being given an assignment which they believe is important and secret—but each of those assignments are a lie, a cover for the true mission which I have reserved for you.”

  “My Keeper, I am flattered,” Tsugai said, baring his sharp teeth.

  Ch’drei thought of the rain as she spoke. “What do you know about an Inquisitor by the name of Soen?”

  Ch’drei descended the ancient stairs alone. The corridors she traversed were unmarked and shifted through a maze of deception. Some of the more surface levels of the labyrinth utilized Aether-driven illusions to prevent anyone from gaining access but from the beginning this deepest region beneath the Old Keep had been designed to survive the end of Aether and the very fall of magic itself. Those who had hewn it out of the bedrock beneath the Old Keep were now centuries dead. Even in their day, no single group knew how they had arrived at the section that they were tasked to construct and their Devotions were such that they had no memory of doing so. In the end, only one person—the Keeper of the Iblisi—even knew of its existence or how to arrive at the final chamber of its twisting passageways and occasionally deadly turns.

  It was the most secure place in all the Rhonas Imperium. It was known only to the Keeper and three other Iblisi. Those others were scattered across the Empire and had no memory of the place and would not unless the unthinkable happened.

  Ch’drei turned the final corner. There she was confronted by three walls covered with intricate and ornate carvings. Death was imbedded in all three walls but in the right-hand wall there were a series of catches. She pressed them in sequence and the stone carving slid away with a deep grinding sound, its ancient mechanism groaning under the centuries.

  Ch’drei entered the enormous chamber beyond, the glowing globe of light hovering above her upheld hand.

  The illumination revealed a mountainous treasure piled in the center of a vaulted room nearly thirty feet tall. The light from the globe glinted off the facets of gems and the polished surfaces of gold and silver crowns, bracers, swords, and scepters. A cascade of Imperial coins, enough to buy entire provinces, lay here at the center of the labyrinth.

  Ch’drei smiled and shook her h
ead. This, too, was part of her defenses. The treasure was real and would distract anyone who managed somehow to access this place from the thing which it was intended to guard.

  Around the treasure room were several alcoves. In the fourth alcove around the right side, Ch’drei found the compartment and pried it open. Beyond was a three-foot-square hole in the wall.

  Within lay three scrolls.

  Ch’drei selected one particular scroll from among them and held it in her hands. It was comforting to her to touch it, to know that it was here and safe from the eyes of the world so far above her.

  She thought of the rain.

  She thought of Soen.

  “This is the one truth you don’t know, Soen,” she murmured to the scroll. “This is the one truth no one may ever know.”

  She placed it back in its secure place, closed it up behind the stone and, leaving the treasure untouched, retraced her steps.

  And she thought again of the rain.

  CHAPTER 8

  Obligations

  IT HAD BEEN A SMALL WAREHOUSE attached to a goblin shop just inside the walls of Port Glorious. What few items that remained in the warehouse had been liberated earlier in the day. The original owner—a goblin by the name of Xakzaz according to a few abandoned parchment receipts—had done a thorough job considering the apparent haste of his departure a few days before the Army of the Prophet had arrived. Now that the army had finished ransacking the building, all that remained was the empty shell of the structure.

  Drakis stepped into the large, open space, peering into the deep shadows of the room and wondering if the goblin would appreciate his building being restored to him cleaner than he had left it. The goblins had been instrumental in getting word to the townspeople in advance of his army’s arrival and to his relief the town was emptied of everyone except the occupying elven garrison before the assault had begun. Word had reached him that the town’s citizens were already turning around from their flight and returning to the port to take up, once again, the only lives they knew.