Sins of Empire

Chapter 66

“So you’re saying this isn’t over?” Michel asked.

Styke shook his big head and spread his hands. “According to Lindet, there’s a whole other army headed this way. We have less than a week.”

Michel stood on the plain south of Landfall, just a few hundred yards from the remains of the land-barge. The big wagon had been struck by errant sorcery during the battle – lightning that almost fried Michel where he stood, and destroyed enough of the big wheels that it wouldn’t be going anywhere without being entirely rebuilt.

He waited with a group consisting of Styke, Lady Flint, Taniel, and Ka-poel and wondered what had gone so terribly wrong in his life to throw him into such company. He shouldn’t be here with warriors, sorcerers, and officers, trying to make decisions that would affect hundreds of thousands of people. He should be watching from the shadows, causing the tiny ripples that kept the government running.

He did not, he decided, like the stage, even if it was so far a small one, because he knew that somewhere was a boardroom filled with the mayor and the city elders, waiting for some sort of response from Vlora regarding the battle with the Dynize. Somewhere was the Lady Chancellor, wondering where her ancient Dynize relic and her Blackhat grand master had gotten to.

“We can’t defend the city,” Flint said. “Not without heavy reinforcements. Fort Nied cannot withstand another shelling, and we’re down well over half of our forces. Did Lindet indicate if she was willing to contribute to the war effort?” She seemed annoyed that it had been Styke, and not her, who received a communiqué from Lindet.

Styke grimaced. “She’s pulling back all the way to Redstone and gathering her armies. Sounds like she’s written off Landfall. She’ll let the Dynize take it, then return with a bigger army – presumably before they manage to use the godstone.”

“Do they know how to use it?” Michel asked. He didn’t belong here with the others, but the least he could do was add to the conversation.

“We’re not sure,” Taniel said, his eyes on Ka-poel, who gave an exaggerated shrug. “The godstone has been buried beneath the dirt outside of Landfall for over a thousand years. The knowledge may be lost, but we don’t know how good the Dynize record-keeping is.”

“They knew it was here,” Flint pointed out.

“Because of their own records, or because their spies told them Lindet had unearthed it?” Taniel responded. “We don’t know enough about the Dynize, but I suspect that’s going to change far quicker than we’d like.”

Flint seemed distant and withdrawn, and stared across the plain toward the godstone. “They’re coming for that,” she said.

“I’m tempted to just give it to them.” Styke snorted.

“Absolutely not,” Flint snapped back. “Not while I’m still breathing. They want a new god, and I’ve seen the damage gods do. I will not allow it to fall into their hands.”

There was a flurry of gestures from Ka-poel, and Taniel translated. “Given enough time, we could reconstruct the land-barge. I imagine Professor Cressel will help us. He’s obsessed with the thing.”

“To what end?” Flint asked, glancing sidelong at Taniel and Ka-poel. “Where would you take it?”

“We take it to the Hadshaw River, put it on a couple of barges, and bring it north. There’s more than one Palo stronghold we could send it to where it would be safe, and give us time to study it.”

“It should not be studied,” Flint insisted.

Ka-poel pursed her lips, tilting her head in a very clear message. Why?

“Because we’re toying with something we don’t understand. Ka-poel is powerful, but that… thing can make gods. I wouldn’t trust myself to toy with it. I certainly don’t trust you.”

Ka-poel glared openly at Flint, who seemed unaffected. Taniel sighed. “So what do you suggest? Burying it back in the ground and hoping the Dynize can’t figure out where it was?”

Michel couldn’t help himself. He was surrounded by some of the most famous people in the world, and all they could do was bicker. He let out a laugh, and then found everyone staring at him. He cleared his throat. “It’s simple, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Styke asked.

“We destroy it. Blow the damn thing to the pit. I read somewhere that black powder is caustic to Privileged, and can even have dampening powers on sorcery. Just strap it with all the powder barrels you can find and set it off.”

There was a long, awkward silence. Ka-poel snorted. Taniel sighed unhappily, while Styke looked indifferent. Flint gave an emphatic nod. “All right,” she said. “We destroy it. If you won’t, then I will. Are you going to fight me on this, Taniel?”

Ka-poel launched into a silent tirade, her hands moving quickly, angrily. Taniel watched it go on, then finally turned to Flint with a resigned sigh. “No, we won’t fight you on it. We’ll help you destroy it.”

Flint was off a moment later, yelling for powder kegs, while Taniel and Ka-poel conferred among themselves. Styke seemed untalkative, so Michel found himself alone, wandering off across the cotton fields with no real direction in mind. In the distance, Landfall still smoldered and he wondered if the rioting had finally died down. According to Taniel, his Palo had flushed out the Dynize agents, then rallied the rioters to put out the flames. It sounded too good to be true, but so did the fact that he was still alive after such a vicious battle.

Michel walked toward Landfall slowly, feeling sick to his stomach. So many deaths over such a stupid thing, this godstone. He cheered silently for Flint to blow it to the pit, even if it made Taniel and Ka-poel angry. After so many years as their spy, he realized that he no longer knew their goals.

He realized that, even worse, he no longer knew his own goals. His mission had been accomplished, his cover betrayed. By all the rules of espionage he should disappear – maybe even flee the continent altogether. He wondered if he could use the Platinum Rose to withdraw a king’s ransom from a bank and vanish before anyone noticed, and if Mother would enjoy someplace with a cooler climate. Maybe he’d head in the opposite direction of Taniel and Flint, and go to Adro.

“Sir,” a voice said, and Michel was startled to find himself no longer alone. It was one of the Blackhats, a young woman with a torn jacket, a Silver Rose on her breast, and a crutch under one arm. “Agent Hendres reporting, sir.”

Michel blinked back at her for several moments before he remembered that the Platinum Rose was still pinned to his chest. “Right,” he said. “What do you have to report?”

Hendres looked slightly bewildered for a moment, looking first at Michel and then toward Landfall. “Sir, I… have nothing to report. But I just wanted to know: I overheard Lady Flint talking to one of her men. Has the Lady Chancellor really abandoned Landfall to the Dynize?”

Michel sighed, cursing Flint and her military-loud voice. “I hope not,” he replied, hoping it didn’t sound too much like a bald-faced lie.

“Thing is, sir, you spoke to us yesterday before the fight about our friends and families. There’s not many of us left, but we’d like to head back to help them get out of the city.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Why are you standing here yapping at me?”

“Orders, sir.”

Michel looked down at the Platinum Rose. He unpinned it, lifted it over his head to throw it into the cotton fields, then thought better of it and slipped it into his pocket. “I’m nobody to be giving orders,” he explained. “I just said the things I did because they needed to be said.”

Hendres’s face fell, and she nodded slowly, looking down at her boots. The sight of her disappointment made Michel think of all the times his mother had given him that same look, not knowing that he – the real him – was working for the very things she valued.

“If you need orders,” Michel said, removing the Platinum Rose from his pocket and holding it up, “then you have them. Get the men back in the city. Tell them to find their families. They can help rebuild if they like, or abandon Landfall. I don’t know if the Dynize are planning on burning it down or occupying it, but you’d better make it quick.” He put the Rose back in his pocket, then walked over to offer Agent Hendres his arm. She leaned against it gratefully, and the two of them began the long walk toward Landfall.

There was a series of loud shouts, and Michel turned around to look back in the direction of the monolith. He realized that he’d wandered quite far away, and squinted to see people running away from the wrecked land-barge.

“Duck,” he said, helping Hendres into a crouch.

The sight of the blast reached them several moments before the sound and shock wave did, making his ears ring and nearly knocking him flat on his ass. A giant ball of flame rose up around the godstone, and he felt a deep stab of satisfaction. That, as it went in the storybooks his mother so liked to read, was that. He kept his eyes on the smoking ruin in the distance for some time before turning back to Landfall.

“What are you going to do, sir?” Hendres asked.

Michel considered this for a moment, then replied, “I’m going to do what I do best. I’m going to find my mother, be certain she’s safe, and then I’m going to make sure that Landfall keeps running in fair weather or foul.”