Wartorn: Resurrection

AQUINT (3)

AQUINT DIDNT LIKE the portals. He hadn't liked stepping into one when the Felk army had attacked U'delph, and he didn't like how frequently they were used here at the warehouse.

But Far Movement was a great way to move goods. If he'd had access to this kind of magic for his freight business in Callah, he would have been rich enough to get by as a strictly legitimate business

owner.

He chuckled to himself at the thought. No, probably not. He just wasn't the legitimate type, not as a civilian, and not as a soldier.

He double-checked a manifest for a shipment that was going out to a village where the Felk had a small garrison. Occupying the conquered territories of the Isthmus was quite a drain on military personnel, but General Weisel was no doubt on his way to capturing yet another city-state, from which fresh conscripts would help fill out the ranks.

Aquint didn't follow the war news much. He was glad, certainly, to be out of the fighting. Here in the warehouse, he was back in his rightful element.

That element, of course, was crime. Within the first days of his assignment here, he had successfully "cracked" the theft ring plaguing this warehouse. The officer who was the quartermaster was very pleased, and had given Aquint a citation, which he accepted with humility.

Immediately afterward, Aquint implemented a new, much more efficient theft ring, using Vahnka's agents. They were now smuggling out of the warehouse only those choicest items that could turn the best and fastest profit. Everybody was happy, even the quartermaster, who accepted these small losses as inevitable, but who was well pleased with the overall reduction in pilferage.

Aquint even found being an officer tolerable. Once he'd completed his undercover assignment, he had assumed his new rank openly. Officers enjoyed privileges he hadn't known during his time as a simple soldier. He had good food, good wine. He kept the warehouse running smoothly, and nobody bothered him much.

It seemed like a stable situation. Let the rest of the Isthmus worry about the war. He had carved himself a cozy little niche here.

Suddenly, a patch of wavy air appeared in the middle of the warehouse. Aquint automatically retreated a step. It was a portal opening. He frowned. This was unscheduled.

The man who stepped out of the Far Movement portal was tall, lean, and dressed importantly. The wizards who were assigned to the warehouse all bowed respectfully, including the Far Movement and Far Speak mages who had handled this end of the portal—all without prior clearance from Aquint. That boded ill. He didn't like the idea of anyone dropping in unannounced.

Aquint suppressed his anxiety and annoyance and strode forward to greet the noble. Probably he was a wizard. Most of the top Felk politicos were.

"Welcome to Sook, Lord," Aquint said.

The man's flat eyes fell on him. "I do believe you are Aquint. Is that correct?"

Aquint felt his throat tighten a bit. Was this some bit of magic? And why would a Felk lord know his name?

Unless his smuggling operation had been found out...

"I am Aquint, Lord," he said, keeping his voice steady. "Shall I fetch the quartermaster? He's in his office just over there—"

The man waved a long-fingered hand. "No. I wish to see you. My name is Abraxis."

Aquint's eyes widened involuntarily. He recognized the name, and an instant later, he realized why. Abraxis was Matokin's second in command.

He was also supposedly in charge of the internal security throughout the empire. Dread closed its fingers completely around Aquint's throat now. Where had he slipped up? Had Vahnka betrayed him? It didn't matter. What was done was done.

"Take me somewhere private. I wish to speak to you."

Aquint led the way. His mind raced, but he could see no way out. Up in the rafters he noticed a quick darting movement. Cat was up there, watching. He would miss the boy, Aquint thought. Wherever he was going, Cat would not be following.

Aquint closed the door of the small, empty storage chamber behind him. It had held grain that they had shipped out to the general's troops yesterday.

Abraxis faced him.

"You are originally from Callah?"

Aquint blinked at the unexpected question. "That's correct, Lord."

"The reports I have read credit you with reducing the theft and pilferage from this warehouse," Abraxis said. "Very impressive. In fact, it borders on the unbelievable."

Aquint said nothing. There was nothing to say. It really was over.

"I am the chief of the Internal Security Corps," Abraxis went on, almost conversationally. "It is my job to root out traitors and malcontents throughout the empire."

"That must keep you busy," Aquint was shocked to hear himself suddenly say. It was his nerves. He was probably on the verge of breaking down, right here.

Abraxis, unsurprisingly, didn't smile.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he said. "Are you implying that discontent is so rampant in the empire?"

"Not at all," Aquint said, groping desperately for the right words. "It just strikes me that, with the empire growing as fast as it has, it's quite a job for one person to be in charge of security."

Abraxis actually appeared to consider that for a moment, then gave a deep sigh.

"It is," he said. "This is a relatively new post, despite its importance. When Lord Matokin first rose to power in Felk, he discussed it. His plans for expanding his dominion were, well, ambitious. I'm not sure any of us who backed him from the first expected things to turn out so successfully."

Aquint kept the frown off his face. What was this man saying? Maybe he wasn't here to arrest Aquint after all.

"Now, however," Abraxis said, "the Felk Empire is an ever-growing reality. And it must be policed from within."

"I see," Aquint said slowly.

"Do you?" Abraxis fixed him with those flat eyes.

Aquint waited.

"Effective immediately, you are relieved of your duties with the army," Abraxis said, holding out a scroll. "Instead, you will work for me as one of my agents."

Aquint was flabbergasted. This was so far from what he had been expecting, his brain reeled, unable to cope with the new situation.

"Me?" he managed to sputter. "But what use can I possibly be?"

"For your first assignment, quite a lot," Abraxis said, still holding out the scroll. "There are reports of potential unrest in Callan. You know the place and the people. I want you to look into it. If it is more than general grumbling, find out who is behind it, so they can be dealt with."

"But I know nothing of that kind of work," Aquint protested.

"You know enough to have broken, almost overnight, a pilferage operation that the quartermaster could do nothing to stop." A smile at last came to his nearly expressionless face. It wasn't a pleasant smile. "And you've had the wiliness and guile to substitute it with your own smuggling operation."

Aquint almost denied it, reflexively. He was immediately glad he hadn't. Plainly this Abraxis knew what he was talking about. Aquint didn't even wonder how he'd come by the information. Apparently this Internal Security Corps was effective.

"Besides," the chief of the corps said, "I don't recall saying you had a choice."

"Yes, Lord."

"I need agents, Aquint. This is important enough that I recruit my people personally whenever possible. This is a new world we are building. A better one. Matokin will unite the entire Isthmus, and when that's done, there will be no more war. We will have one rule, and it will be up to my corps to see that it stands. Understood?"

"Yes, Lord."

Abraxis thrust the scroll into Aquint's hand.

"This scroll will give you all the authority you need to deal with the military and even the mages. I'll give you a brief time to set your personal affairs in order locally, then have yourself Far Moved directly to Callah."

"Yes, Lord," Aquint repeated, numbly. He could barely believe what was happening. So much for his

cozy niche.

"I think you'll like the work, really, once you get accustomed. You'll have a free hand to operate as you see fit. All I ask for is results."

"Thank you, Lord," Aquint said.

"Oh, yes. One more thing. Give me your hand a moment."

Puzzled, Aquint held out his hand. Abraxis turned it palm up, then produced a small knife and made a small, fast cut on his thumb. He dabbed at the cut with a small piece of white cloth.

"There," he said. "That makes it binding."

"What was that?" Aquint said. "A blood oath?"

"Rather more than that," Abraxis said, placing the cloth in a small red carrying bag. "It's standard procedure for students at the Academy. Also for anyone of high rank or power in the empire. Should you prove to be untrustworthy or lax in your duties, that sample of your blood will mean that we won't have to hunt you down to administer discipline."

"I see," Aquint said, feeling suddenly queasy.

"It was my idea," Abraxis said with a note of pride. "It was one of the first measures I implemented as chief of Internal Security. It's proven very effective."

"I imagine it has, Lord. May I ask where that sample will be kept?"

"What do you want to know that for?" Abraxis said.

"Merely self-preservation," Aquint said. "If my well-being is tied to that sample of blood, I would like to be assured that it won't fall into the wrong hands. Though you haven't said specifically, I imagine that our work will make us unpopular in certain quarters."

"That's reasonable," Abraxis nodded, after a moment's consideration. "I keep such samples with me at all times. Under the circumstances, I feel it's the safest place for them to be."

He nodded to the scroll in Aquint's hand.

"The procedural details of your assignment are in there as well. You'll contact Colonel Jesile, Callah's governor. He will give you full cooperation."

"Does it also detail... my new rate of payment, Lord?"

Abraxis's smile was a bit more sincere this time. "It does. And you'll be pleased with it."

"Yes, Lord."

The corps chief exited the room.

Alone with his thoughts, Aquint reflected on the sudden remarkable turn his life had taken. He tried to imagine Cat's reaction to the news. He would, of course, take the boy along to Callah. They would both be going home. If Abraxis was right about his new authority as an agent, there wasn't anybody who could stop him.

Even as Aquint sorted out his reactions, though, a part of his mind was starting to piece together a plan. There must be some way to switch the sample of his blood that Abraxis carried for another, harmless substitute.