Chainers Torment

PART TWO: CASTER
CHAPTER 12

The next few months went very well for Chainer. He thought him-self happy when the First praised him for delivering the Mirari and ordered Skellum to step up his train-ing. He was even happier, however, when he had been allowed back in the pits.

After spending years in the dementist academy, Chainer was oddly comforted to be back among people who lived and died by their skills rather than their ability to lie. There was also a strange camaraderie among the contestants that Chainer never got tired of. You could be standing in a group waiting for your next bout, and when the starting horn sounded, the people around you could be your allies as easily as your enemies. Unless you had been assigned or had petitioned for a grudge match, you really had no idea who or what you'd be facing, or what the stakes were. Chainer had not seen war, but he imagined the silent, grudging respect pit fighters had for one another was like the bond that formed between soldiers during combat. Only in the pits, there were no uniforms to distinguish friend from foe, and the person who watched your back today would probably stick a rusty spike in it tomorrow.

The Cabal's house pit fighters weren't even sure if they were allowed to win. The Master of the Games plotted and paired the results every match with the fixers, on instructions from the First himself. The most important thing was to put on a good show, to make people come back either as contestants or as spectators. If the Order were out in force and a string of humiliating Cabal defeats would lure them in, then the home team was instructed to embarrass themselves. When the First specified what kind of reaction he wanted from the crowd, the Master of the Games prepared it, and the Cabal fighters produced it.

Chainer had never competed in the main pits before he met Skellum, so his matches were less structured, and he was free to fight as best as he could. His youth and his skill with the chain made him something of a novelty act, however, so he was often just outside the entrance in one of the show pits. At the time, Chainer had felt like he was fighting for his life, but he later realized he was only there to impress passing foot traffic. The Cabal had taken him in, trained him, housed him, and fed him, however, so he did his oath-bound duty and put on a show for the passersby. He took that time to master his technique, and before long he had amassed enough wins to impress the pit bosses, the Master of the Games, and, eventually, Skellum.

His current return to the pits had been gradual but steady. In his first bout, an afternoon show that few spectators attended, he tore through a team of slow-moving zombie wildcats with just his chains and dagger. When the pit bosses released a maddened coal- bellied razorback at an evening exhibition two days later, Chainer kept away from it and spun his censer until he produced the snake-thing he had mastered earlier. It tore the smoking, red-hot boar into little bits and then swallowed the pieces whole. The snake-thing turned on Chainer with murder in its eyes, but Chainer quickly collared it once more and brought it to heel.

With each match he was making a name for himself. People were starting to notice his eclectic style, and more and more people filed in to watch him fight. Most dementia casters in the pits were armed only to keep their creations in line. Even the ones who knew how to fight were casters first and warriors second. Chainer could engage his opponents directly from the outset and then surprise them with an unexpected monster, or he could send something nasty at them to test their abilities and then exploit any weaknesses with his chain and dagger. Word started to spread that the young dementia caster was undefeated since returning to the pits. The quality of Chainer's competition increased, and Chainer's control and winning streak increased tight along with them.

When he wasn't in the pits he was with Skellum, meditating and breathing and mastering his own dementia space. Each creature he faced in the pits left an impression on his eyes, his ears, his memory. At night, those impressions churned and bubbled in Chainer's sleeping head, and when he awoke, there were more nightmare denizens of the world with the black sand and the hole in the sky. Some nights he would retire after dinner and lie in a deathlike state until midday, and others he spent in a fitful, restless state of agitation. No matter how long he slept or how deeply, he always dreamed of monsters. The largest of his pets was still only slightly larger than human, but Skellum was pleased with his creature's durability, detail, and speed. His mentor was also pleased that Chainer was following his instructions to the letter. Skellum worked him hard to keep him grounded in the day-today events in Cabal City, and he seemed satisfied with Chainer's progress. The old man had not mentioned the mental strain of dementia casting in weeks. The only objection

Skellum had to Chainer's success was that his pupil was obliged to abandon the designation "apprentice" in favor of "dementia caster."

"I didn't train a mere caster. Casters work in the mud and the blood of the pits," he huffed. "I train dementists. Dementists do important, detailed work for the First. And we know all the best people."

Chainer laughed at the old snob and tried to smear some of the dirt from the pits on his hat.

"Let me be a caster for a few more months," he said. "I like it."

Skellum blocked Chainer's grimy hand with his cape. "Don't touch me, you clod. I have a dinner engagement at the manor tonight."

"With some of the best people, no doubt."

"Indeed. And you'd do well to wipe that smirk off along with the dirt. You're invited, too."

"Is it the First?" Chainer said, suddenly interested. "Is there news of the Mirari?"

Skellum scowled. "No, then yes." When Chainer looked confused, he went on. "The Master of the Games wants a sit-down with you and me to plan for this weekend's event. Apparently, there's a couple of tough nuts coming in from the mountains, and he wants you to attend to them personally." Chainer wrinkled his nose. "Does that mean I have to baby-sit another barbarian?" His eyes brightened. "Or has Kamahl returned? I'd like to place a few bets on him, make some extra silver." He tugged absently at his ragged clothing. "I could use a new suit."

"That's my boy," Skellum said happily. "I'll take you along to my tailor. Never forget worldly delights, my boy. They should be the reason you fight so hard."

"Master," Chainer said dramatically. "You mean that serving the Cabal isn't reward enough?"

Skellum narrowed his eyes. "You have always had a smart mouth," he said. "And no, service is not its own reward. Neither the First nor Kuberr himself have ever said otherwise. We serve the

Cabal, but the Cabal also serves you. That's how it works. That's why it works. Remember it."

Chainer nodded. "Right now, I'm feeling pretty well served. And after I clean up and join you for dinner, I'll feel even better."

"Agreed," Skellum said. "Meet me in the master's parlor in an hour. He'll meet us there."

Chainer sat in stunned silence as the Master of the Games prattled on. She was different from the master who had directed the games that had been interrupted by the dragon attack. No one spoke of him or his absence, and Chainer decided not to ask.

He shot an aggravated look over at Skellum. His mentor seemed calm and collected, but Chainer could tell he was not happy, either. Chainer waited for the new master to take a breath. When she did, he broke in.

"So you're saying I have to lose." He had never been asked to throw a match before. He was finding that he didn't like it.

"Not in so many words," the master said. She was a tall woman, with a tight, pinched face and her hair pulled tight against her skull. "We want the Cabal to make a good showing. But this pair has worked their way up through all the lesser pits between here and the mountains. They haven't lost yet, but we haven't been able to give them what they want."

"What do they want?" Skellum asked. He was keeping a close eye on Chainer, watching for any sign that his pupil was losing his temper.

"Oh, she's looking for her brother or something. The last she heard, he had come to fight in the pits. She and her dwarf keep beating the best we can throw at them, but so far nobody knows who she's actually looking for, or if we know where he is. He might be dead. He probably went into debt and is working it off in the side pits or in the flesh mills. Most barbarians can't resist betting on themselves to win." She smiled unpleasantly.

Chainer kept his voice neutral, but he saw Skellum note his renewed interest. "Barbarian?"

"Yes," the Master of the Games checked her roster. "Apparently, both brother and sister are from a tribe in the Pardic mountains. She's got an elderly dwarf as her partner. They seem to have worked together before, because they make an excellent team. Undefeated so far." She raised her eyebrows at Chainer. "Just like you. Think of the crowds, little brother. The Cabal's best against the toughest thing ever to come out of the hills this year."

"I think I know her brother," Chainer said.

The Master of the Games smiled. "That must be why the First gave me your names. I wasn't going to mention it unless I had to, but this directive comes from the First himself. You are to fight the pair from the mountains. The First wants them to get the information they've already earned, but we can't just hand it to them. So we're going to let you square off against them, put on a good show, and then let them walk away feeling victorious."

Chainer looked at Skellum again. He smiled. "What's in it for me?" he asked. Skellum fiddled with his hat to hide his smile of pride.

"For you, little brother? You get to do your duty for the First and the Cabal. What else did you expect?"

"He expects compensation," Skellum broke in. "His undefeated record has value. You're asking him to throw it away. It's only fair that he get something in return."

The master's eyes darted back and forth from Chainer to Skellum. "What do you want?"

Skellum started to speak, but Chainer stopped him with a raised hand. "If I'm supposed to provide information, I want that information. The Cabal has informants everywhere. I want to know what happened to Kamahl the barbarian after he left Cabal City. I want to know where the Mirari is. And," he winked at Skellum, "I want a cut of the proceeds from the match. The betting tables will be busy when we fight. I want my share."

The master's eyes gleamed. "Done," she said.

"We serve the Cabal," Skellum said.

"And the Cabal serves us," Chainer answered. "Now, then. Let's start with where my barbarian friend went. We can figure out what I'm supposed to tell his sister after that."

Veza never received a courier with false information for Ambassador Laquatus. Within two tension-filled weeks of presenting her idea to Empress Llawan, Veza was awakened a few hours before dawn by a ripping crack of thunder from her living room fountain. Veza had reassumed her legs the day after she last spoke to the empress. She climbed out of the tub and ran into the room.

Two cephalid imperial guards were already floating in the air beside a glowing disk of energy that used to be Veza's fountain pool. They were enveloped in liquid blue energy that kept them alive and upright as a third guard came through the portal. The two floating guards assisted him and two more like him into the water. Veza heard the crackle of portal transit, quickly bowed her head, and heard a large splash. She remained bowed until one of the floating guards touched her on the shoulder.

"Your empress awaits," he said. Veza rose, nodded to the guard, and stepped gracefully into the tide pool.

Empress Llawan floated deep, ten feet below the surface at the very limit of Veza's pool. The three tailed merfolk guards floated in formation above her, constantly scanning every possible avenue of attack. They eyed Veza as she descended, but let her pass without comment.

Veza lowered her eyes. "Empress."

"Director Veza. We require your assistance."

"I am at your service, Empress."

"We had our finest mind-rider investigate your notion of eavesdropping on Ambassador Laquatus's link to his familiar.

"Your hypothesis proved correct, Director," Llawan continued. "Congratulations."

"Empress," Veza flushed.

"In fact, it proved even easier to interpret the signals than you projected. Our expert was able to see Laquatus's thoughts quite easily. He has but one thing on his mind lately, an extremely powerful artifact called the Mirari."

Veza nodded. "I had heard such an artifact was uncovered recently. That kind of news even reaches Breaker Bay."

"It was in the hands of the Gabal patriarch. Laquatus happened to be visiting when the artifact arrived. He has done little but connive after it ever since."

Veza started to understand. "Has the Ambassador acquired this artifact?"

"No. Currently, it is in the hands of the Order."

Veza wondered why the empress didn't seem happier about this development. "Is that acceptable, Empress?"

"Barely. The Order are honest and try to be righteous in all things. They are like jellyfish in the hands of someone like Laquatus. It can only be a matter of time before he spirits it away through violence or deceit." Veza waited for the empress to continue. When she didn't, Veza said, "Then Laquatus will bring the artifact to Aboshan." Llawan stared at her for a moment then clicked out a sharp series of screeches to the guard above. The guard checked an instrument strapped to his wrist and nodded to the empress.

"The crystal did not glow, my empress. She is concealing nothing."

Llawan clicked again, and the guards swam off, out into the bay and well out of earshot. They maintained a clear line of sight on both Veza and the empress.

"Forgive us, Director," Llawan said, "but we had to be sure. If you had lied just now, that crystal would have flashed. I have negotiated many a favorable treaty with it by my side."

Veza simply stared uncomprehendingly.

"We can never be too careful when dealing with Laquatus. But now we must be completely frank with you. Aboshan already has the Mirari. Somehow the ambassador managed to get the Mirari away from the Order and into Aboshan's clutches without actually ever taking possession of it himself. The man's an idiot."

"So Aboshan has the artifact?"

"Yes."

"And the empress is worried that he will use it against her?"

Veza was shocked when Llawan laughed out loud. Cephalids made a high-pitched, staccato chattering when they laughed. It was too much for Veza. She burst into laughter as well.

Llawan quickly regained her composure. "If only that were our main concern! Aboshan collects artifacts, but he doesn't understand them. He wouldn't know what to do with a powerful artifact if it came with a guidebook and a tutor. If he gets his tentacles on the Mirari, he'll probably try to eat it.

"No, Director, we are concerned with what Laquatus will do once he has the Mirari. He claims to be working on behalf of the emperor, but he is a greedy and grasping child. It must truly gall him to see the prize that he so badly wanted in the hands of an oaf, and to know that he has no chance of wresting it free. If the thing is as powerful as they say-if it is as powerful as my mind-rider senses, then Laquatus will not allow Aboshan to have it for long. And when he gets it, the next obstacle between an ambassador's sash and the imperial cap is poor, exiled Llawan."

Veza's humor quickly cooled and vanished. "What will the empress do?"

Llawan extended a tentacle and gently took Veza's hand. "We will gather around us those who have served us well. Those who have served us loyally." She dropped Veza's hand and brought her other forelimb forward. On the end she wore a sharpened spike of whale's tooth. "And we will confront the oaf Aboshan. If we can push him, keep him furious and fearful of a renewed civil war, then he will cling tightly to his new toy and never allow Laquatus to take it. The harder the ambassador tries, the tighter Aboshan's grip will grow, and neither of them will be able to use it against us. Eventually, Aboshan will have Laquatus killed." She smiled a politician's smile. " It is never a good idea to be too ambitious when the emperor is feeling insecure. "We ask you to come with us now and stand by our side in the court of the emperor. We ask you to declare yourself as our subject, and to represent our interests. You are wasted here in Breaker Bay. Worse, you are insulted by it. Come with us now, and be our subject. We have thirty executives like yourself and another dozen cephalids of noble birth. We will present ourselves to the emperor and petition him for permission to secede from his empire."

"He will certainly refuse."

"He must. But he will observe the formalities of government. He will cite the existing treaty between us. He will bluster and threaten. He will try to have us killed by assassins, and try to have us executed publicly as traitors. And all that will buy us time."

"Time, Empress? Time for what?"

"To take control of the situation. To drum up more support among the oligarchs and nobles. To turn Laquatus and Aboshan against each other and divide their strength. To take this Mirari for ourselves and rid Mer once and for all of oafs and knaves."

Veza looked up at the surface of the pool above her head. Beyond it was her cottage, her paperwork, and her depot. Beyond that, the village and all its human inhabitants, with all their human tics and prejudices. And somewhere far beyond that was Aboshan, who cared only for the commerce and not at all for the people who conducted it in his name.

"I am yours, Empress Llawan," she said. "What would you have me do?"

Llawan smiled. "Come with us now. We are taking a water portal back to our city, where the imperial transport is being prepared for the journey north. En route, we will discuss statesmanship and strategy."

Veza nodded. "There are a few items I would like to bring along."

"Personal items, Director? This is a time for leaving things behind and starting over."

Veza bowed. "Documents, Empress. Information that may prove useful to our cause." She raised her eyes and met Llawan's. "And I am Director of Breaker Bay no longer."