The Serpent Tower

Chapter Thirteen

Rik was not surprised to find himself summoned to Lady Asea’s chambers the next day. Karim came for him as he prepared for his duties. Rik wondered what the Southerner did when he was not about Asea’s business. He could not remember seeing him about. Perhaps she kept him in a box.

Asea looked up as he entered the chamber. She was dressed in a formal day-gown and she had a book open in her lap. When he came in she dismissed her maids and Karim, and erected a privacy spell.

“I trust you have recovered from the excesses of last night,” she said. He did not bother to ask how she knew. Servants gossiped even more than soldiers.

“I am, thank you.” Rik wanted to ask her about her visitors but he could not think of any way to do so delicately. “Is there something you wish to discuss with me, milady?”

“There are many things- perhaps you can begin by telling me what occurred on your excursion yesterday.” He did, leaving out nothing, for he was certain she would know if he did anyway.

“What do you think is happening here?” Rik asked. “I saw those green lights in the sky last night.”

“I suspect Lord Ilmarec has unleashed something from the Elder World but I am not entirely certain what. Take a look out the window. Tell me what you see on the road leading up the cliff side.”

“Lord Ilmarec seems to be preparing for a long siege. There is a train of provision carts heading up into the Tower.”

“He is getting ready for a siege. Who does he expect to fight if he has access to these oh-so-potent Elder World weapons? He can destroy any force that attacks him.” Asea’s face reminded him of the priests back at Temple orphanage asking questions during catechism. He felt sure he was supposed to give her clever answers.

“Perhaps there are limits to what the weapon can do. Or perhaps he expects it to burn out after a few uses.”

“A good point.”

“Are there any spells that can protect against such weapons?” Rik asked.

“I would have to study it in detail to know for certain. It would not do to try a general counter-spell without some assurance of it working. Lord Manesi’s wizards have already made the folly of that quite clear. The green light can destroy an army.”

“When will you teach me some magic? Does your offer of apprenticeship still stand?” Rik spoke his mind, amazed by his own temerity and found that he resented that amazement. He wanted to be able to talk to Asea as an equal, to not be intimidated by her, but he realised that was impossible. She was one of the First. She would always be daunting.

“I will teach you when the time is right, but now is not the time. There are other things that demand attention. Did you see our guests last night?”

Rik thought of the beautiful young Terrarch woman, and the tall officer she was with. “I did.”

“Mark them well.”

“Why?”

“You may have to kill them.”

“You speak very casually of murder, milady.” The words came to his lips unbidden. He was surprised to find himself reprimanding her.

“I assure you I do not, Rik. If those two get what I fear they have come for, our entire campaign in Kharadrea will collapse.”

He waited in silence. After a few heartbeats she added. “The Dark Empire will have a new rich province, right on our borders. They could bring their armies in by land or by sea. I don’t think you would find living under the likes of Lord Jaderac very congenial, Rik.”

“Would you?” he asked. He found yet again that he feared her but could not help provoking her. She studied him as if considering punishing him for his insolence.

“No, I would not,” she said eventually. “I do not like the Purples. I do not like their policies. I do not like the form of slavery they practise on your people.

“But, perhaps more to the point, the Queen-Empress does not like me. I fear I would swiftly find my lands confiscated and my head on the block if she were to assume rulership of Talorea, as would Azaar and all the others who helped put Queen Arielle on her throne.”

She sounded utterly sincere, but then she would. “From all I have heard I do not think I would like to live under the Queen-Empress either,” Rik said. “Why do you really want them killed?”

“I did not say I want them killed. I said it might become necessary.”

“And you think I am the man for the job.”

“I am certain you are.”

“Because of my blood?”

“Because you can slip through wards, Rik. Because you can be made invisible to sorcery. Because you have a knowledge of locks and breaking and entering. Because you are clever and resourceful and cold of heart. Because you are a trained killer. Like it or not, the army has made you one. Because you can do it and if I set you this task I am sure you will.”

Rik thought of the girl he had seen last night, the strange emotion he had felt when he first saw her. “What if I don’t want to kill her?”

“The Lady Tamara, Rik? Don’t let her pretty face fool you. She comes from an old Purple line. She wants to overthrow the Scarlet realms and all they stand for.”

“You want to overthrow theirs. Do you think that makes you worthy of being marked for death?”

“I am marked for death, Rik. I am quite sure that given the chance Lord Jaderac or Lady Tamara would see me dead. The Queen-Empress would thank them most handsomely for arranging it.”

“When will you decide if you want them killed?”

“After I have spoken with Lord Ilmarec. After I have found out what progress they have made of convincing him to side with them.”

“How would you have me do it?”

“I told you I believe you will find a way. I will leave the matter in your hands.”

Of course, thought Rik, that way the matter would be completely deniable if he was caught. It seemed that he was being used. “And what will my reward be if I am successful?”

“You will not find me ungrateful, Rik. But before you get carried away with your demands you should remember something. You and your friends sold forbidden books to an enemy of the Realm back in Redtower. That is treason. And treason is a capital crime. What you did merits the attention of the Inquisition and a very slow and painful death.”

Of course, the Inquisition would believe that accusation coming from her. Perhaps she even had proof. Rik felt the jaws of the trap closing on him. Whatever happened he would have to do what Asea wanted. He would need to take whatever risks she asked, and do the tasks she appointed him to do.

“I am sorry, Rik,” she said. “I truly am, but there are things necessity drives me to do.”

“I am more familiar with that than you could possibly believe, milady.”

“I believe you,” she said. “We will talk of this further when the time comes”

From her manner it was clear he was dismissed.

Rik entered the courtyard and saw Sergeant Hef was waiting for him. “I trust her Ladyship had no special duties for you to perform this fine day?”

“None,” said Rik. Was the Sergeant giving him a disapproving look? It was hard to tell.

“Good, then you are rotated onto sentry duty. Take your turn at the gate. If her Ladyship needs your services I will see you are informed.”

Rik moved quickly to obey. Normally he found sentry duty too tedious for words, but today he had a lot to think about and this would ensure his thoughts were not disturbed.

He took up his position facing the Barbarian and studied the street with a wary eye for a minute or two. There were no obvious threats he could see. Just some children playing pitch and toss for coppers in the gutters, and a few food vendors selling sausages and sweetmeats. A couple of hopeful whores who had heard of the soldiers within loitered hopefully nearby, making their presence known so that assignations might be made later.

He was not so much amazed by the fact that Asea had judged him to be an assassin at heart, as by the fact that she had judged him so well. He had killed men before, in the heat of combat, on battlefields and in the back alleys of Sorrow. He had killed men when his own life was at stake as it had been back in Bertragh’s warehouse in Redtower. He had never simply killed strangers in cold blood for reward but he felt certain that he could do so if the need arose.

Now Asea was asking him to kill Terrarchs. The part of him that had been brought up to revere the Elder Race was appalled. A more rebellious part of him felt a sick thrill. He might actually be called upon to kill the masters of the world, the ones who had oppressed him and made his life miserable for so long. The same breed as his father…

That thought brought him face to face with a thought he did not particularly like. What if this whole business was just another test, carried out by Asea to see if her theory about his background was correct. He would not put it past her to do such a thing. He shook his head- it made perfect sense that she really did want Jaderac and Tamara dead.

He felt as if a wide abyss yawned in the paving stones at his feet. He had been sucked into the secret intrigues of the Terrarchs, into their conspiracies and quiet killings. He was in a sense an insider now, and that too was oddly thrilling to a boy who had spent his whole life on the outside of things. It was strange to think that to passers-by he was just a young soldier on sentry duty, but soon he might be called upon to stalk and kill some of the highest nobles in the land.

Get a grip, he told himself. This was not one of the cheap storybooks he liked to read, this was his life. He was not some secret agent bent on desperate duties in the Queen’s service. He was being asked to murder powerful people in cold blood for payment. He was not entirely sure what the fee would be; there was not even any certainty that Asea would keep her side of the bargain. Perhaps he would be sent to kill Jaderac and Tamara, and she would then denounce him as a madman. Such assassinations had happened in the past. No one would take his word against hers. He could be a one shot weapon, like a cheap pistol, used and then discarded.

But if what Asea said was true, he was too valuable. A killer who could bypass any ward undetected would be too useful to just throw away. Unless, of course, she was telling him these things to egg him on, to motivate him, to make him think he was invincible when in fact he would be caught and killed after the attempt.

His whole world had changed during the course of their conversation. He had found out something about himself that he had only half-suspected before, a hidden depth that horrified and frightened him. The Temple Preachers who had lectured him as a child would have had their every suspicion confirmed if they could have looked inside his head right now. They had always claimed he was naturally wicked and would come to a bad end. Before he died all of Master Pternius’s worst predictions might well be fulfilled.

Let them be. He did not care.

“Fancy a stroll round the city then?” said Weasel.

Guard duty was over. The relief was already at the gate. Rik was tired but not that tired. It would soon be night and he was in a strange town and that fed the restlessness that had been growing in him all day.

“Why not?” Rik said.

“Why not indeed,” said the Barbarian.

“Let’s not forget we’ve got some chores for the Quartermaster. I asked around today, seems the likeliest place is a tavern called The Snake’s Head. It’s down along the waterfront, near where we were yesterday.”

“Bad time of the night for that part of town,” said Rik. “What with people going missing and all.”

“You’re not saying you’re scared, are you, Halfbreed?” said the Barbarian.

“I’m just saying we should make sure our pistols are loaded and our knives are close at hand.”

The Barbarian said; “Mine usually are. It’s not my fault if you can’t keep your powder dry since you started hanging around with the Great Lady. I’m surprised you are not heading up there tonight. Or does she call the shots?”

“You want to go to the Snake’s Head or not?”

“I’m in,” said Weasel.

“Me too,” said the Barbarian.

“Then let’s get our stuff and go.”

The Snake’s Head was everything Rik had expected it to be and a little bit less. The ceiling was low. The clientele were rough as a thirsty dog’s tongue. The smoke of pipeweed, dreamweed and a dozen other narcotics filled the place. The lowest sort of bargirls, faces splashed with rouge and whitened with powder to cover their pox marks, stared at them when they came in. The Barbarian rubbed his hands together and chuckled with glee.

“My kind of place,” he said. “Time to get the beers in.”

He shouldered his way through the crowd, ignoring the glares of the hard-looking men he pushed aside. Most of them merely stared. The Barbarian was the tallest man in the room by a head, and massive with it; not the sort of person anybody wanted trouble with.

Rik and Weasel took a table in an alcove and Rik studied the place carefully. It was a classic thieves dive if ever he had seen one. Furtive men with covered packages came in, said something to the barman and then headed into the back. Doubtless there was a fence through there. Sometimes he caught sight of a man as big as the Barbarian, when the curtains were swept aside.

The Barbarian returned with three beers and tumblers full of a strong-smelling spirit. Rik shook his head and indicated the Barbarian should take the spirit. Now was not the time for getting drunk. “Looks like your informant was right, I would say. What you want to do about it?”

“I think I’ll go have a word with the man in the back room,” Weasel said.

“Want us to come with you?” Rik asked.

“No, don’t want to scare him off with the sight of your ugly faces. Stay here, and come running if I whistle. You’ll know if there’s trouble.”

“Right-o,” said the Barbarian, downing the spirit in one.

Rik wondered at this. Was it possible that Weasel did not want them to hear what he had to say to the local thieves? Or was it that he just did not want to make the locals nervous? He could play it any way he wanted as far as Rik was concerned.

A slim youth entered. He was garbed in a black tunic, with a slouch hat pulled across his eyes. He had a long knife on his hip and a pistol thrust into his belt and he walked with the strutting confidence of a city-bred bravo. Rik felt a strange flicker of recognition, and then something like an electric shock when their gazes met. He knew this person, although at first he was not certain from where. Then slowly the impossibility of what he was seeing settled on his mind.

“You look like you just saw a ghost, Halfbreed?” said the Barbarian. There was faint mockery in his voice. “That strutting cockerel there scare you?”

Rik shook his head. He was not quite sure that he wanted to tell the big man that Lady Tamara, daughter of the former Chancellor of Sardea liked to hang out in riverside taverns dressed as a man. “No, I just know him. Wait here, I’m going to have a word.”

“Just leave me on my bloody own then,” said the Barbarian.

“Drink my beer.”

“As you command, sir.”

Rik tapped the black-clad youth on the shoulder. She turned swift as a snake. Cold eyes glittered beneath the brim of the hat.

“I think you and I should talk,” Rik said.

This close he could see it really was Tamara. The Terrarch noblewoman was very well disguised. It looked as if wads of something had been placed inside her cheeks to puff them out and make them look more human and makeup had been applied to the corner of the eyes to alter their shape, the same with the lips. Dirt smeared her face in a way that no Terrarch would ever allow it to. Her hair and her hat covered her ears. There was something else too, something he could not quite put his finger on, but which he suspected was magic.

“Very well,” the voice was low and sounded human. It had a Kharadrean accent. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I think we met very briefly the other night.” Rik was absolutely certain that she would remember him and recognise him, just as he had recognised her.

“There are private rooms upstairs.”

Words passed between Tamara and the bartender, she grabbed a bottle and two goblets and then they both headed upstairs. The private room was more like a private cupboard. It had a table and a couple of rickety chairs and a door that could be wedged closed. A small single bed took up most of the rest of the space. Tamara took a spill, lit it from one of the lanterns and then lit the candle set on a chipped plate on the table. Her expression was one of amusement. She did not seem at all frightened at being alone in a room in a rough part of town with a strange man.

She poured a drink. Rik watched her hands carefully, he was certain she added nothing to it. That did not mean the wine could not have been doctored though. It might have happened downstairs. She saw him watching her and raised the goblet to her lips and drank. He considered switching goblets with her and decided that might be a little too melodramatic. He doubted anyone would have the foresight to doctor the cups. He drank the wine. It was surprisingly good.

“I saw you at Lady Asea’s mansion the other night,” he said, once they were both seated. Their stools were very close together. Their legs touched. “I am surprised to see you here.”

“And I am surprised that you recognised me in the dim light, in these clothes, with this makeup and wrapped by these spells.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“I was wondering about that.” She passed a hand across her face. An odd rippling, distorting effect followed her hand as she made the gesture and her features became the ones he had seen the previous evening. She was, like all Terrarch women, ravishingly beautiful and there was something else about her, a sense of interest in him personally, of availability. It was written in her smile.

“Do you think this is the sort of place that a Terrarch woman should come on her own?”

“I assure you I am more safe here than you are.”

“I must admit I am curious. Why exactly are you here?”

“You think I am one of those High Born who comes to the low parts of town in search of sexual adventure?” Rik had known of Terrarch women who did exactly that in Sorrow, Terrarch men as well. The way her hand now rested on his thigh seemed to confirm the impression.

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Are you offering your services?” She reached out and adjusted a lock of his hair with her hands. He pulled away, feeling a slight sting. Had she pulled out some of his hair? He looked but her hands were empty. It occurred to Rik that if Lady Asea really wanted Tamara dead, he was never going to get a better opportunity than now. Under these circumstances, though, he just could not do it. For whatever reason he found he actually rather liked her, and he was certainly intrigued.

“I wasn’t but…”

“It’s an interesting proposition. I must confess I noticed you the other night as we were departing and I thought; who is that handsome young man…” She had backed away now as if to put some distance between them. He considered what would happen if he attacked her. All she had to do was reveal who she was and he would be in terrible trouble and she was armed. Some instinct warned him that she was much more formidable than she looked.

“You thought more than that.”

“Really? Is mind reading among your many accomplishments then?”

“No but I felt something when I saw you.”

“How very romantic.”

“It was not anything romantic. I merely felt a sense of recognition. I suspect you did to.”

“You might be right. Now, why do you think that was?”

“I wish I knew,” said Rik honestly. “But I don’t. I have never seen you before last night. Why are you here?”

“I am here because like your friend, the Weasel, I have business with Black Tomar, the proprietor of this delightful establishment.”

“He is the local Bossman then, is he?”

“If by that picturesque expression you mean he is the town’s chief dealer in stolen goods, illicit information and illegal services then you are correct. It did not take you long to find him. I must say I am impressed.”

“Why do you want to see him?”

“I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. It’s time you answered some of mine.” He answered her smile. She leaned closer. Their faces were almost touching. Her eyes were very large. The pupils very dark and dilated. He felt like he might fall into them and be lost.

“Ask away.”

“Are you Lady Asea’s lover- everybody seems to think you are?”

He nodded. There did not seem to be any point in denying it. It was a cover that needed to be kept.

“How did that happen?” He decided then to be as honest as possible. It was always best to keep as close to the truth as you could when telling a lie.

“I saved her life in Deep Achenar. She took an interest in me after that.”

“You were in Deep Achenar with Asea? You are the one who fought the Spawn of the Spider God?” He nodded again. It seemed word of the Foragers’ mission had not been as well hushed up as he thought.

“What were they like? Describethem to me.”

He told her of the bizarre half-spider, half-demon things he had battled with, and the ritual he had witnessed. She was a very good listener. She nodded agreement every now and again, and her eyes never left his face.

“Extraordinary,” she said eventually. “And that is how your Lieutenant Sardec lost his hand.”

Rik could not deny the Lieutenant’s bravery no matter how much he disliked the Terrarch personally.

“I believe you are very lucky to be alive,” she said. She looked a little awestruck. Rik wondered how much of it was play-acting but he was flattered nonetheless. Her hand still rested on his thigh, massaging it gently.

“You’ll get no arguments from me. Now why are you here?”

“I am collecting information,” she said.

“Don’t you have servants for that?”

“I like to collect it myself, that way I can judge the source first hand.”

“That’s a very dangerous hobby.”

“I find it adds spice to an otherwise dull life.”

She did not give the impression of being one of those bored Terrarch noblewomen who sought relief from their ennui in danger; quite the opposite. She reminded Rik of some very successful thieves he had known, who took pleasure in their accomplishments and found the crime as thrilling as the reward.

“How dull can it be, being rich and powerful and beautiful?”

“You would be surprised,” she said. “A palace can feel like a prison sometimes.”

“I’ve been in prison so I doubt that.”

“You seem to have led a very eventful life.”

“Too eventful.”

“Tell me- I am interested. Why were you imprisoned?”

“I was caught in possession of stolen goods. I was drunk at the time. My friend Leon had left them with me to pick up later and the watch came. I was too drunk to run away so they caught me. I had not even stolen the goods but I was going to hang for the theft anyway.”

“How did you get away?”

“Leon bribed the guards. They let me out.”

“No daring escapes, no night flights across the tiled rooftops at midnight? That’s very disappointing.”

“That is the way things go in Sorrow. If you can afford the bribes, you can get off free. If you can’t, it’s the long drop. So why did you come here?”

“The same reason as I am sure you did. I want what Black Tomar has; information, among other things.” Rik did not rise to the bait.

“You are spying?”

“If you want to put it that way. I am sure you are doing the same for the Arch-traitress.”

“Lady Asea would not be thrilled to hear herself described as that.”

“Nonetheless, that is what she is.” Tamara sounded suddenly very serious. “She and Azaar tore the Terrarchy apart to satisfy their personal ambitions. They plunged the Empire into civil war because they could not stand to see Arachne on the throne. They wanted somebody more malleable and Queen Arielle proved to be that, at least in the beginning.”

“That is not the history I was taught.”

“Naturally- considering which side of the border you were born on.” Rik paused to mull over her words. She was a Purple. But that did not prevent her from believing she was right or even being so. He wanted to hear her side of the story.

“Go on,” he said. “I am listening.”

“Arachne was the eldest of the heirs. She was first in line to the throne legally. In the normal course of things there is no disputing that she would become Queen-Empress.”

“In the normal course of things, but she assassinated her own mother.”

“I assure you she did not.”

“You have proof of that? Why has it not been brought forward?”

“Of course, I don’t have proof but I do know the Queen-Empress and I know she is utterly serious about finding the murderer of her mother.”

“It would certainly be in her interest to claim that.”

“I know her, Rik. She has been a friend to my family for a very long time. She is sincere. She believes your patron to have been responsible.”

Rik found himself staring at her. “That is just a black lie put about to discredit Asea.”

“Is it? Who was in charge of palace security when the Old Queen was murdered? Lord Azaar. Who was the sorcerer responsible for overseeing the palace’s defensive wards? Lady Asea. Was there ever any trace of a murderer found? Did any of the other palace wizards detect any disturbance of their wards? The palace was sealed that night. No one went in or out. The only people who could have committed the crime were inside that wing of the palace. Arachne was not. Azaar and Asea were, so was your Queen for that matter. That is why my father had her placed under house arrest until he could get to the bottom of the matter. Azaar and his half-sister released her from her chambers and fled before the matter could come to trial. I ask you, whose interests seem best served by that chain of events? Who had the motive and the opportunity to commit the assassination?”

“Motive?”

“Arielle wanted to be Empress. She knew that her sister would become so in the natural course of things. Asea and Azaar could see their power slipping. The Old Queen was turning against them, and their Scarlet doctrines.”

Rik was in no position to judge the truth of her claims. This was the first time he had ever heard events framed exactly this way, although hundreds of theories circulated among the citizens of Sorrow about the assassination that had sparked the bloodiest civil war in history. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I like you, and I want you to know in whose shadow you are standing. Lady Asea is a heroine in your country. Lord Azaar is a famous General, but they are both traitors to their own people, and they are both murderers. They will be brought to justice. In part that is what this war is about.”

“Wars are fought for land, for gold, for power. They are not fought for justice. Believe me, I have fought in enough of them…”

“I am not saying that those motives don’t arise on either side. I am saying that there are other motives mixed in with them. The Queen-Empress will see the traitors brought to justice. She would reward those who would aid her in this.”

Rik fought down the urge to laugh. Earlier Asea had suggested to him that he would have to kill this woman. Now the intended victim seemed to be suggesting that he help her to kill Asea. Obviously this was the reason for their sudden intimacy.

“How much would she be willing to pay?” he asked.

“A very great deal. I can imagine that there would be titles and honours and riches for the man who brought her the killer of her mother.”

“I did not think the Dark Empire believed in rewarding humans.”

“Sardea rewards those who serve her. And you are only half-human. There are procedures that could see such a one as you formally adopted into a clan. There would be palaces, gold, lands.”

“We are talking hypothetically, of course.”

“The Empress’s generosity would be very real.”

“I think I understand why you wanted to talk to me.” She looked as if she were about to slap him, but then she smiled.

“You could do very well for yourself, Rik. Anyone who helps us in this could.”

“As would you, I take it.”

“I make no secret that I would gain a great deal of prestige, and so would my father. It would help him at court. There are factions vying for the Empress’s attention. He has his rivals.”

Rik found that he was smiling. The situation had more possibilities in it than he had first imagined. He felt old ambitions stir, the urge to be someone, to put his bastard heritage behind him, to find a place in the world. It appeared he was being offered more than one route into his future although this one involved treachery to one who had helped him.

“You have given me a great deal to think about,” he said.

“Think about it very carefully. We will talk on this, and other matters again.”

He could have laughed aloud, so closely did her words and manner ape echo that of Lady Asea. She rose and made her way from the room, never taking her eyes from him.

What was he going to tell Lady Asea about this, Rik wondered. Part of him thought it might be better to tell her nothing.

Jaderac looked around his chambers in disgust. They were so primitive it made him want to be sick. He loathed being so far from civilisation. He loathed being so far from the Queen-Empress when he had so many rivals for her favour. But duty was duty, he told himself, and if he was successful here he was sure to find himself back in Arachne’s good graces despite all of Lord Chancellor Xephan’s efforts to discredit him with her.

Damned Xephan had hated Jaderac ever since the Brotherhood had split and he had taken Malkior’s side in the power struggle instead of Xephan’s. What else could he have done? He and Xephan were of the same generation and only one of them could take Malkior’s place as head of the Brotherhood when the old Terrarch’s time came. If the rumours he had heard were true, Xephan had already succeeded in assuming control of the great conspiracy as well as replacing Malkior in Arachne’s affections. The thought made Jaderac deeply uneasy.

He did not want to stay here and he could not sleep so he took himself down to the laboratories he had built in the basement. His nose wrinkled at the stench of rotting flesh and pungent alchemicals coming from the equipment. The whimpering of the humans strapped to the tables disturbed him a little even now.

He watched the blood drain from the tubes in their arms. Red pulses drained in time to the beat of the great sorcerous engine. All of it flowed towards the huge sarcophagus in the centre of the room, feeding his creation, giving it the life it needed. The Black Elder Signs inscribed on its side glowed with unholy power. The making of that great coffin and the thing within it had cost Jaderac a great deal, but he was certain that sometime soon it would prove worth it. The most potent sorcerous assassin ever created would be his to command in a few days. All he had to do was find a way to aim it at the correct target. A few days ago he had been certain that target was going to be Lord Ilmarec, but now another even better target had presented itself, one he had never dreamed would become available so quickly: the Lady Asea.

Some of the humans had soiled themselves. One youth was dead, drained of all he could give. Jaderac pulled out the needle tipped tubing from his heart and arms and rolled him onto the floor. Hopefully the body-snatchers would bring a new one tonight. According to the grimoires, he had already fed the Nerghul enough blood, but in Jaderac’s long experience it was better to be safe than sorry.

It came to him suddenly that someone was watching him. The hairs on the back of his head rose. He turned to look at a young Terrarch woman disguised as a man. How long had she been there, Jaderac wondered.

“Oh, do sit down,” said Tamara. “You’re pacing like a caged leopard. I find it quite enervating just looking at you.”

Jaderac gave her one of his coolest smiles. He studied her, puzzled as always by her manners. Her enigmatic father was his closest ally at court and she shared Malkior's intelligence and his breeding, but there were some distinctly unusual things about her. He found them all disturbing.

There was her habit of slipping away at odd times of night, and the way she gave even the best of his watchdogs the slip. He worried about her. If anything should happen to her while she was here, it might cause a rift with her father, and that was the last thing he could afford at the moment. He needed Malkior’s aid against the Lord Chancellor and his clique within the Brotherhood. Xephan had proven himself a mighty sorcerer and a master of intrigue. Jaderac needed powerful allies against such a dangerous foe and Malkior was the most formidable of all those available. He was determined to win back his old position at the Queen-Empress’s court and maintain control of the Brotherhood. Malkior would prove very useful to Jaderac as he schemed to do so, so long as no harm befell his darling daughter.

There was going to be war, and war meant spoils. The Empire was going to expand. New territories would be annexed, whole cities plundered. Jaderac had no use for land and wealth for their own sake, but they were important markers of status, tokens of success in the game that all Terrarchs played.

“Where were you the tonight?” he asked.

“I was talking to the young man your agents told you about.”

Jaderac controlled his anger. “You went out on your own again?”

“It’s so damnably boring being cooped up in this mansion.”

“So you decided to head for the lowest part of town?”

“Why Lord Jaderac, I do believe you have been spying on me.”

“I am merely concerned for your safety. I do wish you would not set out on these nocturnal adventures. Surely you can find something to amuse you within these walls.”

“Are you offering your own services, my Lord?”

“We are alone,” he said. “There is no need to keep up the pretence of being the lovesick convent girl. I know quite well in which direction your tastes run.”

Tamara looked amused. “Do you, my Lord? It hurts to think I am so transparent.”

She was about as far from transparent as it was possible to get, quite the most baffling female he had ever encountered. He had considered using his sorcery to keep track of her but that would be an unconscionable distraction at this point, particularly with Lady Asea in the vicinity. He realised that somehow she had managed to change the subject on him again.

“If he is her lover he could have killed you. Her lovers have been assassins before.”

“I think I managed to take his mind off killing me at least for tonight.” No need to ask how she had done that.

“What did you find out?” he asked, to change the subject.

“I am certain he is Lady Asea’s lover.”

“We already knew that. He spends part of each evening in her tent or her chambers. At least she is discrete enough to kick him out before morning.”

“I also have something you might want.” She held out her narrow hand. A single silvery hair lay in it.

“Perhaps I am a little obtuse, but why exactly should I want that.”

“We have not been able to get anything connected with Lady Asea: no hair, no blood, no nail clippings, not even any item of old apparel.”

“Of course we have not. She is too skilled a sorceress ever to let those fall into enemy hands.”

“But we have got something connected with him.”

Jaderac allowed himself a small smile. He was starting to see where this was going. “Go on.”

“Our agent in the house can signal when he visits her. We simply send the monster you are creating to kill him and instruct it to kill anyone that’s with him.”

Jaderac turned the idea over and over in his mind. Providing they unleashed his creation at the correct hour it would work. Asea would be with her lover and her mind would surely not be focused on defence at that hour and under those circumstances. His pet would need only seconds to accomplish both their deaths.

“Give me that,” he said, taking the hair and putting it gingerly into a glass preservative jar. He spoke the words of sealing as soon as the stopper was in place. In its way this was a precious thing, a spoor to pass before the great hunting beast he would soon unleash. “I believe you have got it. The Queen-Empress will reward us both mightily for encompassing Asea’s death.”

Tamara’s smile answered his, and then for a second she frowned. “A pity about that young man,” she said. “I rather liked him. He was quite ruthless and amoral but I liked him.”

You liked him because he reminded you of yourself, Jaderac thought, but kept the thought to himself. He was excited by the plan she had outlined. In only a few more days, the greatest enemy of the Empress would be dead, and he would feted for it. And Tamara, of course, for the small part she had played in it.

“If you will excuse me, I have work to do,” he said, moving closer to the great sarcophagus and starting to croon slow, deadly spells in the old tongue of the Terrarchs.