The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim (35 page)

“
Sir.” Gredge began to protest but remembered where he was. “That sounds excellent, sir.”

“
Then go pick some men and guard the city. And this time, don't let your pants down.” And like that, Gredge was dismissed.

Merodach sat down with a plop into his oversized chair, which squeaked as it rolled back a few inches in response. Most of the army had been set to cleaning up the mess in the streets, rebuilding what they could and tearing down the rest. He would need to pull them off of that duty soon, however. Thankfully the damage in the city wasn't catastrophic. Smoke was still rising from the fields and the port to the north. A constant reminder from where he sat of the violence of the night before.

“
Sir,” Lucius stepped forward finally. “We'll be ready to move within two days. As much as I hate to admit it, the mobilizing that Gredge set in motion a month ago has really paid off. We hardly have any work to do.”

“
He doesn't like leaving a bastardized battalion behind to guard the city,” Rast chimed in. “I could see as much, and I'm inclined to agree.”

“
We're about to assail another sovereign City State, General. We'll need every man we have available.”

“
One battalion is scarcely enough to garrison Elandir.”

“
What's the worry?” Lucius interjected hastily. “Who's gonna attack us while we're gone? Brenton? They're staying as far from the conflict as possible. There's no one else that could attack the city if we move due south. They would have to completely circumvent the desert, possibly get to the other side of the mountains and try to find a pass on our eastern flank. We're protected on every front so
long as our army stays to the south.”

“
The logistics for moving that many soldiers at once...” Rast ignored Lucius. He was finding the
upstart's presence reminiscent of a bad rash. “Nothing like this has ever been done. And we're walking into the largest known desert on the planet, sir. There will be no living off the land, no foraging of any
kind.”

“
Stop being such an old lady, Rast.”

“
When your balls drop, Lucius, you'll start to understand the concerns of men.”

“
Enough! Damn it all, enough!” Merodach's hands hit the desk in front of him, making every man in the room jump a little. “Rast, your concerns are noted. Lucius, shut your damned mouth. Bill, where the hell is Clive?”

“
Out cleanin' up the mess, I'd wager. He ain't a big fan uh these meetin's.”

“
I find it hard to believe Clive Fiske is out philanthropizing at the moment.” If sarcasm had a standard tone, Merodach was hitting it with poise.

“
Not that mess, beggin' yer pardon sirs. There be much more to what we's accomplishin' here than simple tricks o' magic. He's off makin' friends.”

Rast's skin crawled to hear the man speak, not least of all for his accent, but especially when it concerned their magic. “It must take a considerable amount of power for the likes of you to make friends.”

“
Funny guy,” Bill said with a smirk as he walked towards Merodach's desk. “Thing is, we's openin' a door for you that ain't gonna stay open long. You walk through it, kick some arses around, er it's gonna slam shut.”

“
We're not waiting for your counterpart to get Liscentia mobilized, Bill.” Merodach leaned back in his chair as the blood drained from Bill's face.

“
Wha... whadaya mean, sir?”

“
We're going to move tonight.”

Lucius had a gun to Bill's head before the smuggler could think to draw his own. Rast moved forward and quietly drew Bill's sidearm out from under his jacket. It was huge, heavy, brutal. It matched its owner well. He felt around until he found the amulets he knew the man to have hidden in his pockets. Rast took a step back and leveled Bill's own weapon at his thick head.

“
I know you're playing both sides of the field, Bill. Thankfully you've been to slow to recognize the fact. I don't know whose side you're really on, but I know it's not mine.”

“
But... but sir!”

“
The thing is, some news of who you are has finally reached me. It took a lot of work, but Brenton's coast guard finally came through for us. Turns out you've risen pretty far from smuggling and piracy.”

Bill was visibly shocked. “He promised...” The brute's muttering was barely audible. “Promised you'd never find out.”

“Who promised, Bill?” The silence that followed was churning with anxiety. “
I'll admit, your level of influence is impressive, beyond impressive, really. Which lends me to wonder whose pockets are deep enough to push Elandrian officials around like you have. So tell me, who's sponsoring you?”

The captive pirate didn't budge or say a word. It almost looked like he'd lost the ability to do so if he wanted.

“
We've got a lovely cell set up for you down in the Southern Tower. It's been redesigned to a special level of discomfort. I believe the ceiling was lowered and the walls slanted so you wouldn't be
able to sit, let alone stand.” Merodach waited a few moments longer before dismissing Bill with a wave of the hand. “A few days in there should loosen the tongue, though it's bound to leave the rest of you pretty tight.”

Four guards appeared in the doorway to Merodach's office to take Bill. As soon as they had him in their hands, their leader drove his fist into Bill's gut. The big man doubled over from the blow. He coughed as a second followed down between his shoulder blades, driving him to his knees.

“
Not in here,” Lucius reprimanded the guards.

“
Sir.” The guards dragged Bill out into the lobby beyond Merodach's office, closing the door as
they went.

They could still hear the sounds through the thick metal, but it seemed to bother Merodach less. Something was still eating at Lucius, however.

“
Why didn't we let Keaton into the action last night?”

Merodach drained one of the glasses on his desk. It looked like he had been trying to catch leaks, there were so many of them spread across the broad surface. “Plans change in the heat of war, Lucius. Improvisation is one of those difficult necessities we all hate.”

Lucius bridled at being lectured on the arts of war by someone like Merodach, but he hid it as best he could. “I still think it would be safer if we just buried him and were done with it.”

“
But he's our hero, Lucius. And you don't just bury your hero.” Merodach smiled as he drained another half-empty glass. “Heroes are incendiary. Heroes are made to be burned.”

T
HE
S
HADOW
K
ING DIDN'T HAVE A DIFFICULT TIME FINDING PASSAGE TO
G
RANDIA, THOUGH IT DID TAKE HIM A WHILE
.
It seemed that most of the usual smugglers and slavers were taking longer to return than usual. It didn't really bother the Shade, especially as he meant to return at the helm of his own ship. A small fleet for the Shadow, the thought brought a smile to his face.

The withered old man that took him on charged him double but he didn't bother to barter, he would have little use for money soon. He was tempted to give the man everything he had. It wouldn't do any of them any good in a matter of weeks. The world as they knew it was on the verge of ending, and no one seemed the wiser.

There was a deep sense of foreboding that settled on him as the gray winter seas kicked up froth about the bow of the ship. His resignation to his fate grew as well, there was no other way. He worked it through in his mind to every possible outcome. The only option left to him, should he not want to betray this one last oath, was to leave the Shadow as they were. Leave them in limbo in the Atmosphere. But that was unacceptable. That was to betray more than an oath, that was to betray his people. His brothers.

But the idea of helping the Demon, of freeing him... he shuddered every time he thought about it. The shudders were getting less violent, however. The idea less revolting. He hardened his heart like plaster in a mold, baking it until it cracked. He had done worse, he reasoned. Surviving this long had already cost him what little soul he may have been allotted.

He truly had everything to gain by moving forward. It was enough to make the decision for him; he had almost nothing to lose if he pressed on. And almost all would be lost if he stood to the side. This was the only opportunity to get the Shadow back. If it required aiding the Demon in accomplishing something he was already going to manage on his own... well... then why not profit from it?

There would always be opportunities to betray the old snake. And even if he was betrayed first, he hadn't lost anything save the time it would have taken the Demon to hunt him down. The Shadow King was marked for death on all sides, he had been for a long time. If he could evade his fate one last time, it would be worth it.

Under his guidance the smugglers worked their way south, switchbacking to the north more than once to avoid the blue dragons guarding the coast. Long, vicious, wretched creatures they were. He had no desire to lose the ship this far out. Let them find their own way back, he didn't want to swim to shore. The smugglers were amazed at how easy their passage to Grandia proved. The old man captaining the vessel made offers to employ the Shade more than once. He could tell the offers were supposed to be generous, but he was in the service of someone else. He had to remind himself of that frequently enough as it was. It all seemed so surreal.

He wondered what their reaction would be if they knew who he was. What he was. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it. Living a double life for so long eventually led one to play out the scenarios, even be tempted to lay it all on the line for a little fun. Just to see what they would do. But again, he didn't feel like swimming to shore from here.

When the ship finally put in to land, they immediately began unloading their cargo on the beach. The Shadow King paid the second half of his passage, his nerves fraying with Grandian sand under his feet again. He felt a headache brewing at the base of his skull in response, but all he could do was turn and walk inland. He had a long passage to make if he was to do it by foot. The road to the Gates didn't even start until you were nearly half-way across the Islendan portion of Grandia. And unless the Truans had decided to start building highways since he had been gone, he was certain he wouldn't even find proper roads until he reached the Western Kingdom.

The jungle south of White Shores grew as thick as he remembered it, but thinned out sooner than expected. Much sooner, in fact. The trees were being clear cut, the ground burned in their wake. What they could possibly need this much wood for was beyond the Shade. And then he saw them.

The Titans flew straight for him, low to the ground, slow, making an attempt to appear as non-threatening as possible. The Shade swallowed hard against the knot that rose from his stomach. Another step towards the brink.

“
Well well,” said the one as they landed. “You're back so soon.”

“
We thought you had no use of our friendship,” said the other.

“
It's not your friendship I'm here for,” the Shade retorted sharply.

“
No,” said the first. “Of course not. But you might like our help in any case.”

“
Indeed,” said the other. “I'd be willing to wager you have no plan of how to get to Ilthuln.”

“
It is a great distance.”

“
And there is much danger.”

“
Especially for one of your reputation.”

“
There aren't many who take kindly to you this side of the sea.”

“
As few as those who wouldn't spit you on a stake on sight.”

The Shade didn't know how much of this he was supposed to put up with, but it was beginning to grate on his nerves. “I take it your master sent you, then. To propose a solution to my travel needs?”

“
He's not our master.” The first bristled under the suggestion.

The Shadow King thought it best to curb his tongue, he had forgotten how much they cherished their illusion of freedom. As much as he would have enjoyed twisting that blade, he let it be.

“
But yes, we have been sent to help you make better time,” said the other before the Shade could practice his temperance. “We can take you the first leg of your journey.”

“
To the borders of the Western Kingdom.”

“
From there we should be able to arrange a horse.”

“Eating horses sounds preferable to riding them to me
.”

“
We can't leave our post for long, but we would rather risk that than part from each other.”

“
You'll be able to ride to Ilthuln on your own, if you can manage to avoid the white patrols.”