The Queen's assassin

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sardec was astonished when the half-breed staggered into the room. He looked as if he had just fought a war entirely on his own. Small puckered scars covered his face. Blood covered his clothing. He stank of seawater and something else, something sickeningly fish-like. There was madness in his eyes that was a product of more than pain. Even the way he moved was different, somehow inhuman. Instinctively Sardec placed himself between Asea and Rik. He noticed Karim taking up a position, blade bared behind him.

“What happened, Rik?” Asea asked.

The half-breed paused for a moment as if listening to something, or as if searching for words in a foreign language. Sardec drew his pistol. Something was not right here. The half-breed shook his head. “No need for that, Lieutenant. You are in no danger — at least not from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should leave the embassy.”

“Where would we go?”

“Anywhere but here. Malkior knows his way around the embassy. I think Valefor showed him.” His eyes were locked with Asea. He seemed to think the words would have more significance to her than they would have to the rest of them, which apparently they did.

“You have met Malkior,” she said.

“He did this to me. He and a friend.”

“You were very lucky to escape them then.” There was suspicion in her voice. She moved her fingers through the gestures of a spell, spoke a word in one of the ancient tongues. An Elder Sign burned in the air before Rik then passed onto his forehead, branding it.

His face became a grim rictus. Strange light appeared in his eyes, and the flesh over the scorch mark rippled and vanished. “That hurt,” he said. “I would be grateful if you did not do it again.”

“It was necessary, Rik. Whatever the problem is, it’s not that you are under any sorcerous compulsion.”

“I am glad we agree on that. We need to get out of here now. Malkior has made a deal with the Quan. And he is coming here to kill you tonight. I am surprised he is not here already.”

“Perhaps he had business elsewhere. Or perhaps he feels he has plenty of time.”

“That may be the case. I don’t know what else to say. Things are going to get hot for us here very soon. I killed one of the Sea Devils while I was making my escape.”

“What?”

“I killed one of the squid-bastards and I am glad I did.”

Sardec remembered the merchant’s tale of the Shipbreakers and his heart sank. It seemed that this embassy was doomed. Apparently Asea’s lover had slaughtered one of the city’s secret rulers, one of the very beings they had come to negotiate with.

“I think you had better tell me what has happened Rik. Lieutenant, I think you should go and see to it that my clothing hampers are set out in the courtyard below.”

“With all due respect, Lady Asea, I don’t think that now is the time to worry about the way you are dressed.”

“Please just do what I ask, Lieutenant. I will answer your questions later.”

Rik waited for the others to clear the room, and for Asea to invoke her wards, then slumped into the chair. His body ached and he knew why. When he had increased his strength and speed he had put stress on muscle and bone in ways he had never done before. He was paying the price for it now. Asea stared at him, measuringly.

“So you still trust me then,” he said eventually.

“It appears that I do. Now tell me what happened!”

He told her, letting her know everything that had happened in the past few hours. She listened intently as he spoke.

“You killed a Quan and ate its soul? You are stronger even than I thought,” There was a trace of awe in her voice.

“It was the Quan or me. I did not have much choice in the matter.”

“And its power is within you now. You don’t have to answer — I can see it and that answers a mass of other questions.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What are you going to do to me?” Rik braced himself. He was not sure he could or even wanted to kill Asea if she turned on him now, but he was not prepared to be slaughtered like a lamb either. He had gone through too much recently to allow that to happen.

“For what?”

“It would appear that I am now a fully paid up member of the Guild of Thanatomancers for one thing.”

“As you said, that was accidental.”

“And I think I may be going mad. There are a hundred voices in my head.”

“They will fade as you master them.”

“You seem to know a lot about that.”

“More than I care to.”

What did she mean by that, Rik wondered? There was a loud banging on the door. Lieutenant Sardec spoke. “If you have some means of leaving this place, Milady, now would appear to be a good time to use them.”

“What is happening?” Asea asked.

“Our lookouts have reported that something is very amiss in the harbour, and it looks like there is a small army heading our way.”

“We shall talk about this later, Rik. Now we had better leave this place.”

Malkior entered the observation post in the flat across the street from the embassy. Soon it would be time to mount his attack. The spy he had set to watch the Taloreans looked up at him, and smiled. The power from those souls he had just devoured roiled within him. He felt strong and powerful enough to overcome even the likes of Asea. As was always the case after he had performed a ritual, the voices in his head whispered to him like old friends, reminding him he was alive and powerful, while they were mere dregs inside of his brain.

“Things have been quiet since the beggar went inside, sir.”

“What beggar?”

“Same one as left early this morning unless I miss my guess. The one you told us to keep an eye open for.”

“The half-breed, Rik? Asea’s lover?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That can’t be true.”

“I saw it with my own eyes.” Malkior cursed. He should have come here earlier, but he wanted to give his prey time to go to sleep, and to build up his magical strength through thanatomantic rituals. Tonight of all nights, he needed to be strong.

“Are you absolutely certain?” Even as Malkior asked the question, the door opened and an Intercessor entered the room. It was the man, Alaryn, a being who Malkior trusted as far as he could throw him, if that. There was no need to ask how the Quan’s lackey had found him. Very little went on in the city that the Council and the Sea Devils did not know about.

“You have some answers to give, Lord Malkior?” he said.

“Are you sure they can’t wait?” asked Malkior pleasantly. “I am about to be very busy.”

“The Quan are not happy with you.”

Malkior turned and stared. The voices babbled in a chorus of anger and confusion. “What?”

“One of their Exarchs has been killed. They think you have something to do with it.” Malkior squelched the impulse to slay the fool on the spot.

“What nonsense is this?”

“The Exarch was killed on the prison hulk.”

“That’s not possible. He was alive when I saw him not two hours ago.”

“He is dead now.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. But there was no mark upon him, and the Quan Overlords think his soul was drained.” Alaryn looked at him suspiciously. Malkior wondered if the signs of his recent ritual feeding were visible to the Intercessor’s eye. The wrong impression made here might prove fatal.

“Well what did the men on the hulk tell you?”

“Nothing. They were all dead.”

A chill passed up Malkior’s spine. A crescendo of fear rose among the voices. Was it possible that his supposed son had done this? Had the little bastard been that much more capable than Malkior gave him credit for being? Had he sat there and laughed at Malkior then casually murdered a Quan Exarch and his Intercessor-recruited bodyguard before making his escape and returning to the embassy? Malkior laughed, caught between the impossibility of the idea and the apparent fact of it being true.

“I can assure you this is no laughing matter, Lord Malkior. You told us the boy would be an easy target. You asked for a Quan Exarch to interrogate him yourself. Now he is gone and all witnesses to the way the boy escaped are dead — other than yourself. The Quan are quite keen to ask you some questions.”

“I’ll bet they are.”

“No need to worry about Lady Asea,” said Alaryn. “The Council is sending a company of soldiers to request her presence too.”

Malkior felt his whole plan slipping beyond his control. If he remained here, the Sea Devils might catch him and he could imagine the form their interrogation would take. He had no desire to find out whether he was capable of overcoming multiple Exarchs in sorcerous conflict or of surviving the sort of sorcerous interrogation they would perform. He had no desire to be stuck here with the Quan turned against him either. Fortunately, as always, he had prepared a bolthole and was ready to use it, and at least Asea was trapped here at the mercy of the Quan, and he doubted they would be gentle with her.

Rik stepped out into the courtyard in the centre of the embassy. His mind reeled from the night’s events. What he saw stumped him completely. The bodyguard was assembled there and Asea’s dress baskets were set up in the middle of the courtyard.

“If you would be so kind as to open the baskets and take out their contents,” she said to Sergeant Hef. “Please be very careful.”

Slowly, realisation of what was happening filled Rik. As he watched the men opened the wicker baskets. There was cloth within, but it was not made in the form of dresses. It was made in the form of Benjario’s huge balloon. As Asea gave calm careful orders the huge gasbags were laid flat and attached to eyeholes in the side of baskets with cables of spidersilk. There were three of them, and space enough in them for all ten Foragers, Sardec and Asea. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

Asea looked inside each of the baskets and produced a small rune-covered flask. They were much smaller than the ones she had used to summon elementals from in the past, but if he guessed correctly containing creatures more than strong enough for her purposes.

“Can you control all of them at once?” he asked her.

“They are much less powerful than War Elementals, and much less strong-willed. It will be a strain but I can manage it.”

“What about the wards in the city walls? Will they not destroy them?”

“I doubt it, but if they do it will be of no matter.”

“It will be to us, if your creatures fail and we plummet to our doom.”

“That will not happen, Rik. Trust me.”

“I guess I am just going to have to.”

Without further ado, she opened the first of the flasks. A small salamander, a tiny fire-elemental, spun out, its flickering light mirrored in the flask’s polished interior.

At Asea’s command men opened the mouth of the gasbag. The elemental moved closer and hot air began to fill it. One by one, more salamanders exited the flask. One by one, the gasbags rose. Asea ordered the men to hold them down.

Sardec turned to Weasel and the Barbarian. “It’s a pity about Ambassador Valefor’s accident,” he said.

“Accident, sir?” said Weasel.

“The way he fell from the balloons when we were trying to escape.”

“Right you are, sir,” said Weasel. “I shall go and fetch him.”

“Don’t kill him,” Asea said. “He may be innocent, and even if he is not, we don’t have the time. Get aboard. If need be, I will deal with Valefor later.”

Her tone told them that a quick clean death might be better for him if he had betrayed them. Asea’s vengeance would not be pretty.

Vengeance is good, the voices in Rik’s head whispered.

The balloon lurched skyward. The courtyard of the embassy receded below them. Soon they were drifting above the cities red-tiled roofs, getting higher with every heartbeat. Sardec clutched the wickerwork of the basket with his hook and stared down. It looked like they had taken off none too soon.

Coming up the street towards the embassy he could see a large body of men. By the light of their glowstone lanterns he could see that they numbered in the hundreds and were armed with muskets. A quick calculation told Sardec that they were most likely out of range now, which was good, because he shuddered to think what would happen if a musket ball penetrated the silk gasbag overhead.

The wind pushed them away from the sea. Sardec was glad because from this height he could see something strange was happening out there. The waters around the edge of the harbour boiled. Something massive and luminescent blocked the harbour mouth. It looked like a squid but was big as an island and its tentacles seemed so long that they might be able to reach up and pull the balloons from the sky. He shivered and pulled his coat tighter. It was cold up here but that was not what had caused the chill to run down his spine.

They drifted above temple spires. The waters of countless streams glinted silver below them. Once or twice he heard shouts and screams. Perhaps someone had looked up and seen the balloons drifting across the moon.

Rik still made Sardec uneasy. He had the feral inhuman look to him that Sardec had noticed earlier, and there was something strange and pained about his movements. If Sardec had not known better he would have thought the half-man possessed.

What had gone on between the Sardean and the half-breed, Sardec wondered? Why did Rik look so battered? What exactly was the nature of their conversation? And why was one of the highest lords of the Dark Empire talking to Rik anyway. Had there been some sort of secret negotiations going on between him and Asea, using the half-breed as a go between? If so, why had Rik claimed to have escaped and killed a Sea Devil in the process?

The city walls came ever closer, and with them the moment Sardec dreaded. There were potent warding spells woven into those walls. Amongst other things the wards were intended to keep war elementals out. What would happen when the salamanders feeding hot air into those balloons encountered the wards? Perhaps they would simply be snuffed out. That was not a reassuring thought so far above the ground.

Lord Malkior stepped back into the shadows at the back of the room. The drumbeat march of the Council’s soldiers had stopped outside the embassy, and they were demanding the doors be opened. They were going to be deeply disappointed when they got inside.

Alaryn watched him like a hawk. Malkior shook his head. “I am not so foolish as to think I can escape from the city when the Quan wish otherwise. Please allow me to collect a few adjuncts from my dwelling and I will join the Council soon.”

“I am afraid I cannot allow that,” said Alaryn.

Malkior feigned anger as he stepped closer. “Cannot or will not? You do not like Terrarchs do you, human?”

“It is nothing personal,” said Alaryn, and collapsed as Malkior’s blow caught him on the side of the head. Malkior caught the wizard as he fell, and let him slide gently to the ground. He wished that he could punish the man for his insolence, but any use of his personal brand of magic would let the Council know what Malkior really was, and there was no need to make things worse there than they already were.

“Intercessor Alaryn appears to have taken ill,” Malkior told the spy at the window. “See to it that he is looked after while I collect my gear.”

Before the man had time to reply, Malkior swept passed him, out the backdoor and into the night and shadows. He was annoyed at the failure of his carefully woven plans here, and knew that he was going to have some way to make Asea and her pet pay. For now though, it was time to flee the city.

After that he would need to accelerate his plans to kill Kathea, and make sure the Taloreans had cause to regret their invasion of Kharadrea. The voices in his head roared agreement. He called on the power within him, stepped into the shadows and vanished from mortal sight.