Blood of the Emperor (9 page)

“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 head. 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.

Obligations

I
T 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.

Drakis sighed. Life is so often a matter of momentum, he reflected. Would he have felt more justified in this sacking of the town by his army if the motives for doing so were more pure? The people who made their homes in Port Glorious knew better. The Army of the Prophet could tell themselves that they were liberators, freeing the
town from the oppression of the elves but the truth was that they needed the food and supplies the port trafficked in and so they had come and taken it. The people who called Port Glorious home knew enough to stay out of the way between two armies and were now returning, substituting a new set of masters for the previous set of masters. They did not feel liberated so much as cautious about whether the change would help them or hurt them.

We are the masters of sky and light

We are the doom of the night

Dawn we are seeking

Dawn and awakening…

Drakis shook his head. The song of his dragon Marush often intruded on his thoughts at the most inopportune times and at such times made sense only after he could touch the dragon and know what Marush actually meant. It sounded like a triumph song but Drakis felt far from victorious. It was why he had come: to face down the Beast that had pursued him.

Hearing someone enter the warehouse, Drakis pivoted around.

“Ethis?” Drakis called. “Have you come alone?”

Ethis held out both sets of his arms, his palms forward. “Drakis, there is someone who needs to speak with you.”

Ethis moved to the side, revealing an elf.

The elf Inquisitor stood not ten feet from Drakis, his Matei staff held casually across his body in both hands.

Drakis slowly drew his sword from its sheath. “I’ve had a lot of practice with this blade.”

The elf remained still, blinking his lids over his dull, featureless black eyes. The elf tilted his elongated head, nodding toward the sword in Drakis’ hand before he spoke. “Do you really think that would have made a difference?”

Drakis glanced at the sword then fixed his eyes again on the Iblisi elf.

“If I had any wish to harm you, Drakis of House Timuran, you would not be hearing my words now,” the elf said softly. “You would either be dead or halfway back to the Empire.”

“Tell me your name,” Drakis said, his throat dry.

“I’m sure you already know.” The elf drew back his thin lips into a sharp-toothed smile.

“I want to hear it from you,” Drakis demanded, his sword still raised.

“Proper introductions? I am touched.” The elf bowed slightly. “Then may I proceed. I am Soen Tjen-rei, Inquisitor of the Order of the Iblisi—or, more accurately,
former
Inquisitor of the Order of the Iblisi—and the elf who had been hunting you since the day you bolted from House Timuran. You’ve proven a most resourceful prey, Drakis.”

“Somehow this is not helping me to feel any better about meeting you,” Drakis said far more casually than he felt.

“But meeting you is precisely what I have been trying to do since you arrived,” the elf continued. “When I first heard of you just after the fall of House Timuran, my obligation was to my Order: it was my duty to find you, learn the truth, and then kill you on the spot.”

“Again,” Drakis said. “Not feeling any better about this.”

“But then my obligation changed,” Soen went on. “My own Order determined that
you
were a truth that had to be hidden. Since I knew about you, my old, dear friend the Keeper of our Order determined that both of us needed to be ‘hidden’ well…preferably deep in an unmarked grave far from any possible discovery. So my obligation became to the truth of myself; I was still looking for you but now as a means of proving that I was still loyal to my Order. The only way I could do that was to capture you and bring you back in chains to our Old Keep in the Imperial City.”

“This is why elves are not known for their diplomacy skills,” Drakis said. The conversation was absurd. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because since I came looking for you, I’ve come to learn a new truth,” Soen said simply.

“Please do
not
tell me that you’ve become a
believer
in me,” Drakis scoffed.