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Chapter 22
I study the jungle around me, still a bit groggy from our short rest. The drizzle has me soaking wet, water drips off my bangs and runs down my nose.
Talen searches one of the bags filched from a dead slaver and fishes out some dried cheese, bread, and wine to share with me. As for the rations, they aren't wonderful. However, they satisfy my grumbling belly. When we finish, I jump to my feet. He takes lead and I follow him through the woods. Talen's a born tracker and finds the highway much quicker than I could. We set out keeping an eye to the road ahead and behind for any sign of trouble.
Puddles standing in the ruts of the muddy road cascade with waves when the thunder rolls overhead; lightning flickers sending bright shadows fleeing before the overcast sunlight. Somewhere in the woods, I hear the loud call of a peacock sounding mournful and distressed.
The road sucks at my slender boots, and for the first time in my life I wish I had fatter feet. With a broader sole, I wouldn't sink so deep with every step. To make matters worse, piles of horse dung turn the clay into light brown ooze. Huge puddles gather in the canyons created by the track of so many conscripts, and I have to be careful or end up knee-deep in muck.
Still, Talen and I manage to make decent time. We jog for 3-hours without stopping, keeping parallel to the winding road. By my book, we cover almost 10 leagues.
Along about midnight, I spy the chain gang and my heart lifts just a little.
It's stopped by the roadside. Guards stand in groups on either end, keeping constant vigil over their property. They fight off the damp and oppressive darkness with blazing torches that hiss and sputter in the descending raindrops.
Talen and I creep into the woods, which are alive with the sounds of night.
I push the oily leaves of emerald ferns away from my face and descend a moderate slope facing away from the road. Talen follows behind me, silent as a prowling cat. At times, we hold our breath to remain hidden from those who walk within the gleam of firelight only a man's length from me. Thus I go about searching the camp looking for HER, but Talen sees Angelaria first.
She's dressed in a splendid gown of royal purple, and her hair's combed back and held with a silver clasp. An immaculate necklace of platinum jeweled with three tiny sapphires hangs from her neck. They seem to catch the light of the torches and reflect them in three layers of blue, each with its own magical sparkle. She's seated at a table in a tent with the general. To my chagrin, it looks like she's having a wonderful time. Angelaria picks at a dinner of barbecue pork. I smell fresh cornbread and baked beans swimming in sauce. And she lifts a fine crystal goblet to her red lips, apparently savoring the taste of the white wine on her palate. Verrr rolls around on the carpeted floor near her feet, playing with a ball of colored string and jumping with each crash of thunder.
Talen shakes his head. "You're in lust with a strange lady," he remarks. "Methinks she's of some importance, Kian, and that we don't know nearly enough about her."
"Well it's not for want of asking." I look at Talen's soft, caring eyes. They're so deeply in love with me that I wonder if I'm dreaming. He puts his hand on my shoulder.
"What shall we do?" he asks. "She honestly doesn't look like she's going to want to leave."
I frown. "Let's see if we can get a little closer. I want to hear what they're talking about."
Talen sighs.
We circle around the camp, staying hidden in the woods and trees until we're at the aft end of the tent. Wonderful shadows belonging to those within play on the yellow silk. They're thrown thus by the torchlight and candles inside those canvas walls. I can even see Verrr. The kitten's plopped itself against the wall closest to me.
This is where Talen and I stop, crouch, and eavesdrop.
"It's entirely possible," the general says. "There's been alliances between the knights of Aozeran and the Israfil of Zanda before, if you remember."
"Of course I remember."
"Forgive me, Lady Angelaria. It is not often that I can dine with someone so educated."
"You're forgiven General," she states. I find her voice, elegant and musical.
"In any event, the Council of Soulwarden began its summit two days ago. All of the Nightshades and their pupils are present or have been accounted for but this meeting seems to have a different agenda."
"Oh?"
"A woman named Kahket, a sorceress of sorts, put in an appearance a few days ago. She's addressed the council as an emissary of Aozeran and has demanded that Constantine give over to her a jewel called the Eye of Blood. She's threatened the entire council with a war between the Great Houses. But by Chagidiel's beard, Constantine didn't have it! Damned smooth if you ask my opinion. Personally, I wish someone would stick a knife in this Kahket. Of course, King Braedir fears her as any man should. She's had infiltrators in the palace for years. To make matters even more complicated, there's a madman named Aldric that's converting people by the hundreds to the worship of Zandine. It's all very unsettling, especially in a land where Tethyr's the champion of the people. Right now Soulwarden is awash with secret societies and evil religions. Seeing as your father is almost universally despised, your stay here should no doubt be pleasant."
"Don't mock me. Is this Aldric working for her?"
"I don't know. I suspect, however, that he is. It would not be the first time that Asanibis allied itself with the Well of Zanda. She's got something diabolical planned and it's got the entire town of Soulwarden cowering in anticipation."
The talking stops.
I hear the tinkling of glasses inside. Silence follows for some time. I brush the water from my face and stare back at Talen who shifts in the mud, uncomfortably. Then I hear the general clear his throat. "The king loves you, you know."
She laughs. "Oh yes, I know. Verrr, come here," she says. The shadow of the little kitten lifts itself from the canvas wall.
"You're a beautiful woman," he says. "If you'll not have him, will you have me?"
"Really Skree, aren't you a bit old for me?"
"Nevertheless, I could support you; give you a place to call home."
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, general, but the Mirimar's not exactly what I had in mind when I set out from Mon Arcanos. Besides, I could never love you, and that's the absolute truth. I'm dreadfully sorry. If it's any consolation, I don't love your king either. He's a thin, ugly man with no spine and excessively poor taste in clothes."
He laughs. "Do you even know what love is?" he asks.
"I know what lust is," she muses. "Lust is a coffer filled with gold owed to me by a skinny blond boy that thinks too much of himself. But at least he has a big cock, unlike some men I know."
The general doesn't immediately respond, but when he does, it's filled with anger. "Blond you say? The one that escaped earlier today was blond. That hair color is very rare. Was he a lover of yours? You play a dangerous game, princess, if he turns up again, I'll kill him and cut off that dick you so admire and give it to you in a velvet box. Besides, a woman shouldn't be bound to a man that won't be able to appreciate you. Not like I can."
"I didn't say I was bound to him. Simply that he owes me, and I shall have my payment soon. I think that I'd like to retire for the evening, general," Angelaria remarks. "The conversation I'm afraid has soured my appetite."
I hear him snort derisively. "I would never leave you wanting for gold, princess. I think there'll be a time soon enough when you reconsider what you've said to me and realize that I'm offering you the best deal you'll ever get." I see his shadow stand, reach across the table, and kiss her hand. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Lady Angelaria," he says with a bit of contempt.
I hear his footsteps retreat then. "You two," he calls out to someone. "Make sure that our prisoner does not escape."
"Really, general, is all of this necessary?"
"Just a precaution, princess, in case you decide to take a midnight stroll."
"Goodnight then," she states.
And then he departs to go and inspect his prisoners for any who might have died from the march.
I look to Talen, but he's gone.
When I finally spot him several yards to my left, he signals with his fingers, saying "Let's get her out of there."
I move past the tree line, crawling over the vines and kudzu to the tent, and insert my dagger, making a vertical cut through the canvas. I peer inside and I see her standing and looking like a demure little girl. She doesn't immediately realize I've come for her; rather she admires her kitten that's busy batting at her mahogany curls.
I whistle and she almost drops Verrr.
"Kian, what're you doing here?" she whispers.
"Come on. We can leave through this hole I've made."
She shakes her head. "I promised that I wouldn't try to escape."
"Are you kidding me? We don't have time for games."
She purses her lips. "Give me a minute then. I'm not dressed." She steps behind a standing screen and starts changing her clothes. "You know, it wasn't wise of you to come back for me. I can take care of myself. Besides, I have to get into that meeting in Soulwarden sometime this week. It's imperative that I see what this Kahket plans to do. My father may want to know about this." She stops for a moment to look at me through the slit in the tent. "Then again...there may be another way." She grabs an ornate box from the table where she sat eating dinner from the general. "I should have thought of this before."
I chew on my lip. "Thought of what? And who's your father, exactly?"
"Hanibel the Pale," she states. "He's leader of the Gray Order of Magic in Mon Arcanos."
It takes a minute for Angelaria to join us in the woods.
My flaring nostrils catch the pleasant whiff of her perfume; it's like lilacs or pale roses in the springtime, and it makes my eyes and my thoughts wander.
"Well, are we just going to wait here for them to discover us, or did you think that far?" she asks. Verrr seems to echo her impatience with a quiet "meow."
I decide not to answer her.
I slide down the slope of wet leaves, making sure it's downwind from her tent, and start walking back into the brush. Angelaria follows me; Talen brings up the rear. When we've gone back far enough where I believe our voices won't carry, I turn on her.
"We need to settle something once and for all," I say, raising my voice slightly and pointing a finger at her face. "I'm calling the shots here, not you. You could've made my job just a little bit easier back there instead of cozying up to the slavers. And," I add, "I don't want you questioning my orders, understand?"
She arches an eyebrow. "Oh really? Did it ever occur to you that I was doing fine without your help? Did it ever occur to you that I could care less about your orders? I know more about this place than you do anyway. I've been here. I wouldn't be surprised if all you'd managed to see was a picture in a book somewhere. Lord knows that you can't read either, so not even flavor text would help in your situation."
I lower my eyes to the ground. She's absolutely right. How can I know better? I look at her, and I feel shame creeping over my skin. I don't have anything to say, but I want to say something, a clever response, a witty remark.
But there's none to be had.
"Let's go," I say as quietly as possible. I notice Talen frowning. She obviously has no clue that her words cut me. But Talen definitely does, and it's taking everything he's got to hold himself back.
We move on.
Sometime around 10:00 at night, the rain finally stops. We're now far ahead of the slaver column on the road. However, the wet stickiness from the jungle humidity returns with a vengeance. It stifles my lungs and unlike a sticky sweater made from alpaca fur, it's impossible to shake. The moisture permeates everything, leaving clothes smelling of mildew and softening even the driest bread.
Despite the fact we're all exhausted, I push us to travel well past midnight.
For the last two hours, Talen and Angelaria trail behind me, whispering and talking while I take point.
Just when we think we're safe, Talen's excellent hearing picks up the sound of dogs baying in the distance. The general's discovered Angelaria's disappearance, and it's not much of a logical leap to assume he's desperate to recover her. However, there's little to no chance of them finding our path as we crossed as many patches of stagnant swamp water as we could. Nevertheless, I urge my companions to pick-up a pace that's grown more leaden with every yard.
Traffic on the road grows heavier.
We are nearing the capital city.
About a league from its gates, we emerge onto the highway and join the travelers headed to Soulwarden. We cross several small towns nestled in muddy little clearings. At one of these, I stop long enough to buy some new provisions and to ask directions as there are roads that lead to the West and the Icewall Mountains and to other cities on the River Magan (which is the largest river in the world).
And by evening, we crest a hilltop, and I see the city of Soulwarden for the first time in my life.
Soulwarden, or "Thorn" as it's known by many, squats in a huge crater with four vast roads dissecting the circular city in unequal pie sections. There are over 100,000 people living in this fetid cluster of houses, businesses, and churches stacked one on top of the other until the alleys are shrouded in perpetual twilight. I see that some roads end abruptly while others split with no discernible pattern or reason. Because the crater's in a jungle, wild trees and plants crawl over everything. Unmaintained buildings are buried in vines. Standing pools of water drown entire sections of road (the breeding grounds no doubt for many varieties of mosquitoes).
Some of the complexes I see are twenty stories high, connected to each other by bridges and covered roads about halfway up. On the north side of the crater runs the river Magan, a monstrous thing that's so wide, I can't make out the other bank.
My father once told me that the Magan is more than 30 leagues across in many places and approaches 50 leagues at the mouth. Thorn's at the very heart of the country, but because the waterway's so deep, ships can sail into the Soulwarden port of call (if their captains are brave enough). Right now, all I see are hundreds of little fishing boats and merchant vessels rocking slowly with the ebb and flow of the muddy water, but none so large as the galleon that Ja-Mir captains.
The moon, Mondath, hovers like a balloon high over the steep roofs of this teeming metropolis. The heat and the stench of the place move over me like a tight garment. It's a suffocating, intoxicating smell...an unstoppable font of things both repugnant and loathsome.
Dimly, in the spiderweb of intersecting streets and avenues, I spy the shape of windows lit by burning candlelight and saffron hue. I imagined medieval rooms filled with tapestries and antique chandeliers. Soulwarden is a city of contrasts...being at once the finest and the poorest. It is both old and new. Life and death. And the whole of it is without any single law, no police force, yet home to the Guildhouse of Assassins that kills indiscriminately anyone who would raise a finger against them or question one of their actions. It's a place where the strong eat the meek. However, fortunes can be made here in the slave and drug trade, and that evidence is everywhere from private armies to mansions that occupy the walls of the crater where a higher elevation affords those within cleaner air and safety from floods.
"Kian," Angelaria says. "Cover your head and face. Blond boys are unheard of here, but extremely wanted by the slave trade."
"Why?" Talen asks.
"There's a magical loom in the city supposedly left here by Zandine himself. He's the god of secrets. Zandine declared blond the color of sunlight sometime in the first age. The loom can take blond hair and spin it into thread that can be read by the sisters of the one eye, giving them answers to any event queried of them as long as that event took place in broad daylight. However, it isn't just any blond hair. It must be natural and come from the head of a man and not a woman."
"Why the sexism?" I ask.
"Because the suns, dear boys, are female."
"You're joking, right?" Talen scoffs. "She's joking, right Kian?"
Angelaria raises her eyebrow. "Why's it so hard to believe. Without sunlight, there'd be no life. Women are responsible for giving life...for bringing children into the world."
"Well I can't argue with that," Talen says.
I nod and slip my mask over my head. Then I put on my cloak and hood. The heat drives me crazy, but I don't want to attract unnecessary attention.
When that's done, I take lead and descend the gentle slope of the crater astride the broad cobblestone highway that flows toward city center. The illusion of civilized life, now and then, breaks down in the streets of Thorn. I pass by a street brawl which ends up with three men getting their throats slit. If that isn't horrible enough, a man dressed in magenta robes buys the bodies almost immediately. From the conversation, I learn that the magenta robes mark him as a priest of Chagidiel, the first of his kind I've ever seen. He has terrible acne on his face and greasy long hair. But most vile is his plan to cannibalize these men with others who are unnamed in a feast to a dark god.
The very thought of it turns my stomach. But Talen doesn't have the same reaction. He observes the man with thumb and forefinger pressed to his chin as if in deep thought. Angelaria purses her lips and looks to Talen, tilting her head ever so slightly. He responds with a 'thumbs up,' and I wonder what they are up to.
"Kian," Angelaria says, "would you like to try some of this?" I think I see her wink at Talen, but it happens so quickly that I can't be sure. She produces a small box containing some white powder. "You sniff it through this tiny straw. I got it from the general as a gift, and it's very precious. It will make you feel...less tense. While this circulates in your blood, you won't mind the sights of Thorn and jeopardize our ability to go undetected in the city."
I stare at it. "I-I think I'll pass--" I begin to say.
But Talen cuts me off. He puts his hand on my shoulder and nods. "Try it, buddy. It'll take the edge off. Plus, I hear it's great to fuck on when we get down to business later. It heightens sensation while putting off your orgasm."
"I had some earlier," Angelaria says. "It's relaxing and pleasureful. I insist that you try it and stop being a prude."
"What's it called?" I ask, picking up the straw. Fearlessly, I sniff some of the powder, perhaps too much, and feel a cool sensation on the inside of my nose before the drug sends a powerful euphoria to my head. The rush leaves my feet and hands tingling with excitement, and I feel like I can fly even though my feet never leave the ground.
"It's called Eros." She reaches up and strokes my ear, and I find her touch enervating.
Behind me, Talen giggles. "His eyes are already dilating," he says.
I lift my mask to kiss him. Talen smiles and holds the straw for me to take another hit. "That's my Kian," he whispers, but all I hear is "You belong to me." It's exactly what I desire from him. And then he French kisses me, and the heat of his mouth leaves me light-headed and hard between the legs.
My senses are stripped raw by Eros.
I feel the roll of water beading on my skin, I notice the fine blemishes on Talen's flesh, I can even taste his sweat in the air. When I look up and see a bird, I swear I can see every detail in every feather.
"Eros..." I murmur.
To my left, the murderer of those men strikes a deal with the razide of Chagidiel. Gold is exchanged, and he helps to put the bodies in a cart that the priest pushes in front of him for just this purpose. But, instead of being bothered, I wonder what the men will taste like and smack my lips.
I wonder how they'll be prepared.
"Do you think they'll use barbecue sauce?" I ask Talen.
He shrugs. "Hard to say; I've never eaten a person before." He giggles and winks once more at Angelaria. "That stuff is incredible. Kian, maybe they'll just roast them on a spit or serve them with diced potatoes."
"I like potatoes," I say eyes wide, suddenly imagining platters of them covered in gravy. "Are we going to eat some?"
Talen bursts out laughing. "Not yet, boyfriend. Not yet."
We walk past poor and homeless people by the hundreds. They take refuge here much the same as they would in Clothol, and I think to myself "how inventive" instead of feeling as if I understand their plight or even a shred of pity. They skulk about in out-of-the-way places, covering their heads with garbage, and sleeping in sewage gutters. The only thoughts that cross my mind are "I wonder why they don't throw the garbage away" and "a gutter seems like an illogical place to crash. There's too much water...what if it got in your nose? How would you breathe?"
I voice many of my questions, and Talen giggles constantly. I love the way he looks. He's so happy.
A child with a swollen belly wanders toward me, crying. He knocks on doors, skin pockmarked with insect bites.
Talen whispers in my ear, "Put the child out of his misery, Kian." But what does he mean? I would never hurt a child.
In the next instant, I draw my sword and kill the boy right there in the street. I don't know why, but I look to Talen and ask, "Did I do good?" even as the boy's blood runs to one side and collects among the cobblestones.
Talen's expression appears smug. He says, "Yes. But we must move."
Angelaria whispers to him something that sounds a lot like, "Eros has a powerful effect on him. Be careful for he will obey you completely."
"I kind of like it," Talen states. "For once, I'm in control. Do you think our plan will work? When do we meet Braedir?"
"Shortly," she tells him.
"Who's Braedir?" I ask but she shushes me with her finger. "You'll see soon, my love. You are the most important part of that meeting. Talen and I need you to help us with a task. Here, have another hit of Eros." She holds out the box and the white powder calls to me even as my blood races. I put away my sword and sniff at it, pulling much of the white powder into my narrow nostrils.
Gods...I love this stuff. I love how it makes me feel.
"Where are we going?" I ask her, turning my head from Talen to the lovely Angelaria. I desire them both so equally that I'm left confused.
"I need to see the king," Angelaria says.
I smile. "Somehow, I don't think that we're dressed for the occasion."
She looks at me. "You're fine. King Braedir Kaietel of Soulwarden is an unsavory man. And he's not so much an actual king as he is the person with the largest private army outside the Guildhouse of Assassins. You'll probably like him."
I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth not wanting to say anything. Angelaria pushes past me and heads down the street. Astonished, I follow her while staying at Talen's side; she negotiates the streets of this medieval town like a professional. After a few minutes of walking we stop at the door to a tavern with large windows crossed in broad wooden mullions. The bottom half of the outside wall is carefully laid river rock and the upper half contains brilliant little windows and whitewashed wooden planks. The second story juts out over the first like a precarious shack on the edge of a chasm. An antiquated sign painted green and embossed with gold showcases a stuffed pig on a spit.
Angelaria lifts her head, taking note of the sign before stepping inside. The inn's stuffed with hairy men and their whores. Glass bottles both empty and full lie in every imaginable place about the room, knocked over on barrels and tabletops, shattered into pieces strewn upon the floor, or being kicked around by dogs pawing at rotten table scraps. I blink and watch the broken bottles reassemble themselves and break again over and over. It's so amusing I laugh, and Talen tugs me by the elbow. A few men and some women stare at us as we pass.
Angelaria wastes no time. She walks over to a table where a man in a soiled velvet doublet and green hose sits. He's licking a barmaid on her bare breast and sucking on her large dark nipples. The man wears his hair in a long ponytail, and it looks as if it's never been washed. In addition, he sports a full beard and mustache. His eyes are beady like those of a reptile. They're black spots of coal in a face that seems too narrow for his body.
"He looks as if made of cookie dough," I blurt out.
Talen pulls me into his chest and says, "Focus on me for a moment," and I do. I sink into his warm eyes as if they are pools beckoning me to swim within them. "Now be quiet," he says.
I nod obediently, and he scratches me behind the ear. It feels so good, I look down and see I'm actually floating off the ground. Or at least it seems like it.
Braedir regards Angelaria. They've been talking some time. White droplets of milk sparkle in his chin hair. I glance at the whore and see she's lactating, and I almost want to throw up in my mouth (at least just a little bit). But the man smiles approvingly, as if completely unaware of his appearance or simply uncaring, and for the most part, his eyes never drift higher than Angelaria's boobs. I fear just a little for her virginity which I want to take for myself when this guy pushes the barmaid away from him with his right hand.
"It's been a long time," he says. "You still pure? Or has that been stolen from me?"
Angelaria laughs at him. "You'll never know."
"Come here, lover." He tries to grab her but she sidesteps him easily.
"Come now, my king. With all of this attention I wouldn't think you'd miss me any more than a stiff breeze. How have you been Braedir? And keep your paws to yourself."
"Unsettled, since last you left."
This slob is the king! I shake my head disdainfully.
"I'll speak to you in private," Angelaria indicates. She turns and looks at the women who appear to either side of Braedir.
I think they look like skanks. I've certainly fucked better. Each carries a bottle of wine and they all wear oily smiles, the kind that result from sweaty sex in which there's no cleanup.
"I'm sorry ladies, but your king has business," Angelaria tells them. Then, she reaches down and grabs Braedir by the doublet. In the next instant, she yanks him to his feet.
"You spoil everything, princess," he says, putting his arm around her shoulder. Angelaria guides him to the stairs that lead up to a second floor room. It's flanked by a wooden rail that's broken in at least three places.
A man standing guard at the bottom of the stairs stops us, "And just who are these other two?"
"My friends," she says. "They'll be coming along too."
The guard shakes his head. "That one on the left must remove his mask."
"I'm not taking off anything," I say with my best challenging tone. I know I'm six-feet tall, but I swear to this guy, I must be a giant.
"Braedir, order your man to stand aside," Angelaria says. "You can trust them."
"If you say so," he says, eyes ogling her. "It's all right Olaf. If she's vouching for these men, then they will do me no harm."
Olaf begrudgingly nods and moves to the right. I can't resist saying to him as I pass, "It's not like you could stop me if I wanted to kill anyone in this room anyway. So be a good dog and make certain you're never in my way."
I see Olaf glare at me, but he holds his tongue. Halfway up, he whispers something to Angelaria. She nods, "Yes, he's the one. He's presently in the grip of Eros."
"Ahh, but are you sure he'll meet Leto's standards?"
"He'll meet anyone's standards, he's Atlantean. Have you got the Timeron Knight armor that will fit him exactly? It must be exceptionally svelte on him, like a second skin."
"I do," Braedir says. "I was at a loss as to how you would get him to wear it. But Eros...I never expected you to stoop so low. It's absolutely brilliant. You are aware of the physiological risks?"
"Do I look like I care? I will get paid my money," she says sharply. "He owes me quite a bit, and it's not like it won't help his own reputation. I'm fond of his appearance, yes. But I'm first and foremost, a business woman."
I know that they're talking about me. And I want to interrupt and ask questions. But every time I try to focus my mind, I see Talen out of the corner of my eye and am drawn to his lips. Sometimes he allows me to kiss him. And when I look back, I've forgotten everything. It's like his lips have the touch of amnesia.
At the top of the stairs, Angelaria opens a door. Inside we find a small room with a bed, a conference table, three stools and a wash basin. There aren't any windows, but there's a chest at the foot of the bed. Talen and I enter last and shut the door quickly, locking it into place.
"Can we be overheard here?" Talen asks.
"Not really," the king comments. "The tavern's too noisy. It's hard to hear anything over that."
"Good," Angelaria says. "I'll keep this short. You know I plan to get into the assassin's council meeting here in Soulwarden. How soon can we get Kian into the armor and at the Blood Dungeon?"
"Why do you need to get in?" he asks. "I've a right to know."
She considers Braedir's question. "I've heard that a woman named Kahket has been stirring things up here and I want the details," she says.
"Oh...that!" he exclaims. "Yes, she's here, along with that sniveling sycophant, Aldric." Braedir looks to Talen. "If I get you into the meeting, you've got to stick a knife in him for me. But you've got to let him know before he dies that it comes from King Braedir. I can lend you knife or something to do it with. He'll be surprised by that, I think."
Talen raises one eyebrow. "I suppose if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."
I idly start to scratch Talen's back and he politely tells me to stop.
I give him the puppy dog eyes, and it makes him shake his head. Then he hugs me.
Braedir pauses, thinking about what's been said. "All the Nightshades the world over have been convening here for the last month. I've no idea what they're discussing, but it must be important. There's a minor meeting tonight between Kahket and a Timeron Knight by the name of Calisto Blackmore. He's here with a legion of black armored evil knights; some say he's a powerful death knight. Others call him a demon, but I don't believe that rumor. Kahket's the one with the demon, and she's had it skulking about the city doing her bidding during the Guildhouse Summit these past few weeks. Calisto is a cruel general who likes to fuck comely men, just like the soldiers who serve him. But they have very high standards, princess. No one knows what these standards are for sure, but if their physical fitness is any indication of what they like, then your man will have to be quite a looker to distract Calisto enough for all of you to get access to his magical amulet."
"Oh trust me," she says. "He is."
Talen grabs her by the elbow.
"You're hurting me; let go," she warns.
Under his breath, Talen says, "You promised me on the road that Kian wouldn't get fucked. He's my boyfriend, and I don't want to share him."
Angelaria pats him on the cheek. "I said I wouldn't let him get fucked up. But if you're going to be a hero to the church of Tethyr, you need to sacrifice some of your possessions. He has a sweet ass and cock and it's our best chance to sell it for all its worth. Don't worry...you'll be there to watch it happen. If it bothers you so much, kill them afterward for violating that sweet flesh. Just don't let your jealousy ruin our plan. You know you want this, and I want to get paid."
"How exactly am I going to be a hero?" Talen asks. "You've been vague on that, but I've trusted you thus far. It had better be fucking good or else."
"Or else? Are you threatening me? Just shut up and listen," Angelaria says to him.
It's weird but I agree with her. I want to say to Talen, yeah shut up and listen to her! But I don't say that of course, because I want him to kiss me, and I suspect he'd be mad at me if addressed him thus.
But in the next instant, I realize I've no clue what she said that got Talen so miffed.
Braedir snorts. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Angelaria answers. "Why do you think Kahket is meeting with Calisto?"
Braedir takes a moment to answer. "I think Calisto plans to invade Bakora once he pounds out an alliance of sorts with this Kahket. They'll be meeting in the old theater house on the other side of town. You can go in with me, if you'd like. I AM the king, after all." He stops talking and sits down on his bed. "We've got time for an interlude," he indicates, slapping the mattress.
Angelaria's eyes narrow, dangerously.
That look sobers him up immensely.
"It's only a joke," he says.
"Don't be absurd," she declares with a sharp tone, "or I'll turn you into a toad. What does this Aldric fellow look like?"
"He's about as tall as that fellow right there," he says, indicating Talen. "He's thin, not in the same way as the masked boy. He's not muscular at all and his skin has a whiteness to it that seems almost transparent, like a corpse. His hair is white, like milk, with dirty gray roots, and he has an overly large mouth and pointed nose."
Talen clears his throat. "How long have you known about him?"
"About a year," he states. "I started hearing his name bantered about my castle. You see, he claims to be a prophet...a soothsayer of sorts that speaks to anyone willing to listen about the end of the world. It's a lot of mumbo jumbo if you ask me."
"What does he say?" I ask him. He pauses, staring me in the eyes.
"High as a kite...," Braedir states. "It's remarkable at how large his pupils are. I can hardly see any blue at all, although his eyes are lovely as you say."
"It's a legitimate question," Angelaria states to get Braedir back on track. She opens the box containing Eros and gives me another hit. I sniff it through the straw and wipe excess powder from my nose. "Answer his question!"
Braedir clears his throat. "Aldric says that 'a darkness shall come. He says that the god of shadows shalt cast forth his gaze to the land of blood and He shalt take to his side His bride and that the earth shall carry forth the rumor of His footsteps so that all shall hail the beginning of the end.' All of his rantings might have fallen on deaf ears except for the fact that Tempest Mountain has been unusually active as of the last few months. We experience a few tremors from time to time and the natives interpret this as His coming. Aldric fanned the flame of their passion with his words and has demanded sacrifices of livestock and cattle, commanding them to repent and to give of themselves to Him so that they might be spared. Some of my closest advisors have even told me that human sacrifice is being done once more, a practice that I thought had been safely stamped out. With the frequency of the tremors still rising, panic has closed-in on the city. Aldric defied me at my own castle gate and declared that I brought the wrath of the new god down upon them!"
"How's that?" Talen asks.
"Soulwarden is a very particular type of town with its own particular type of people. It's one of the only cities of any size where you'll actually find churches to the god of thieves. Most folk are too pure to dedicate or set aside places to worship a god that supports stealing and assassination. It's not the type of thing you want broadcast. Anyway, Thorn is an exception and has been for several centuries. That is UNTIL NOW. Aldric has told everyone that the churches all must go, that we must dedicate new shrines and holy places to the new god. Some have even suggested that the land of blood that the scriptures indicate is a reference to my city and that the priests and churches of Tethyr are in fact the instrument of everyone's doom. I made the mistake of publicly denouncing his accusations. But shortly after that, the preceptor of Tethyr's church turned up dead in his house with half of it gutted out by a fire that threatened to burn the entire city."
"A preceptor?" Talen states, but with incredulity and shock thick in his voice. He utters the word in the form of a question. "That's only one removed from the Gray Warder, the disciple of Tethyr himself." Talen turns to me and says, "There're eleven preceptors of Tethyr, Kian, and if one is dead, this is significant."
I giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asks me.
My head is swimming and all I can think of is the number eleven. I say, "I have an eleven inch cock. You could suck it for me."
Talen rolls his eyes and pats me on the cheek. "Be quiet for a moment and stare at that painting on the wall."
I look at where he's pointing and see a field of butterflies, and I'm mesmerized by the detail in their wings.
Braedir continues his story, but it's difficult for me to listen. "Naturally, the sect loyal to Tethyr blamed me as well. In the last week, I've had two separate assassination attempts on my life. One of them killed the best bodyguard I'd ever had. I can hardly sleep anymore, and I absolutely dread going home to my castle. The whole place reeks of death."
"How was the priest killed?" I ask. I don't know why I ask it, but the question just bubbles to my lips.
"No one knows. The fire apparently started from inside the house and it burned so hotly that some of the stones fused together. However, other rooms in the house were left completely untouched. No glass was broken in these rooms but all the doors were locked, tight as a drum, and every window secured."
"Impossible," Angelaria says.
"I wouldn't lie to you," Braedir replies. "These are merely how investigators on the scene recorded what they found there."
"Could it be magic?" Talen asks.
"I don't know," Angelaria answers. "To get something burning that hot and that specific would take tremendous training. It's beyond my skill, but I've heard of fire mages that could possibly wield that type of constraint. The effort would be exhausting, however, and he'd hardly be able to remove himself from the scene unaided. Preceptor or not, all of that just to burn a man to death seems a little bit unnecessary."
"Oh he wasn't burned to death," the king interrupts. "He was poisoned. The fire didn't even touch him where they found his body lying on the stone floor of his refectory."
"How soon after the fire started did firefighters arrive on the scene?" Talen asks.
"Almost immediately, I'm told. Buildings are very close together here in the pit. We all move quickly when we smell the scent of smoke or we'd all suffocate. On bad days, the smog lingers over the rooftops so thick it makes you cough. Most of the time the wind off Tempest Mountain blows it out of here." He shrugs his shoulders, resting his back against the peeling plaster of the back wall. "Thorn's in a terrible geographic location. But priests and peasants alike believe it's a holy place where Tethyr first scooped gold from the land and where the bones of his body lie entombed, under the Chamber of Souls in the main Basilica."
"Bones!" I exclaim, incredulously. "He actually lived!?"
Braedir's eyes widen in surprise and he stares at me as I must be staring at him. "So the legend says, my skinny friend. The gods all supposedly walked the earth as we walk it now, but in a different time and place. At some point in their history, they decided to depart Wynwrayth to watch the scurrying of man from a much loftier place. No one really knows when it happened, but old texts and books talk of a day of silence when the gods left their immortal bodies to lie low upon the earth with the mud and the worms. At some point, a fanatical monk named the day god's death and it's revered as a holy day in towns and cities all over the world."
"I've never heard of it," I tell him.
"Well," he remarks, "It's not really big here in our corner of the world."
"It's huge in Sulasia," Angelaria cuts in. "All of Mon Arcanos shuts down to honor its passing."
"Mon Arcanos?" Talen ventures with a question.
She smiles. "'Mon' simply means 'the city of.' It's my home. A magnificent city of tall ivory spires reaching up so high that the tops of them clear the clouds. It lies at the center of the Sea of Magic with graceful flying bridges and courtyards rimmed with exotic gardens and ivory fountains. We have a marvel there that lights houses without smoke. The entire city is shaped like a three leaf clover with the tower of Milbar rising from its heart. The three leafs of the clover are enclosed in sparkling domes of rainbow glass and glittering vessels descend on the city day and night, from the stars, carrying corobidian from the mines of Kala-Pur."
I behold her with wide-eyed amazement. I can almost see the exquisite towers and minarets and the placid shores of this far away and very magical place.
Talen interrupts. "The house of the preceptor...is it under guard?"
"Oh yes," the king says. "By Calisto's men no less. There are fourteen of them, all cape dancers. If you haven't seen Timeron knights cape dance, then you truly have not witnessed death. But Kahket extended a supernatural ward over the property as well, until such a time as an emissary from the Guildhouse of Assassins can obtain the time to undergo a proper investigation. They're all tied up with the summit, you see. Meanwhile, Kahket has obtained almost exclusive access to the house of a very important man to the church of thieves. Her motivations are of course, completely nefarious. She wants a church secret by which she can trade/blackmail the Guildhouse into forcing one of their Nightshades, an assassin named Constantine, to give up a rare jewel that she seeks. Only someone given the blessing of Calisto himself can pass through the supernatural ward. He has an amulet you see that bestows the blessing. To get it, you must rub your hand over it, but no one gets that close. And of course I have my men there as well, as does the church of thieves. The place is watched day and night. But thus far, Calisto has denied admittance to any requests to breach the ward. He says he'll await orders from the Assassin's council out of respect for the clergy and their summit."
"You say that the preceptor was killed. Poisoned. Angelaria has said that to have a fire burning like this one would require a great deal of control," Talen says.
It suddenly dawns on me. "He's still in the house...the murderer is still in the house," I say proudly. And then I stare at the floor which must be ten feet beneath me; I'm floating in thin air. "Look...I'm flying." I hold out my long thin arms like the wings of a bird.
"He'd have to be," Talen agrees, pulling my arms back down to my sides. "That's why Kahket put the ward in place...to keep people from looking. If the murderer is there, it's definitive proof that she killed this priest. Then she'd have the entire church of Tethyr looking to murder her...a simple task with so many Nightshades in town."
"Now it's my turn to say impossible," the king says. "The heat's too intense. Besides, people on the scene didn't see anyone. He would've turned up when they checked the house."
"I admit that it doesn't seem plausible," Talen says. "But the only way we can be sure is to check it out. And assuming Kian is correct, if we find the murderer, then THAT'S how I become a hero to our church! Bravo, Angelaria. I could write my own ticket, perhaps even control an entire country of guilds in the name of the church. Hero," Talen says, "has a nice ring to it."
"It does indeed," Angelaria says, crossing over to him. She kisses Talen full on the lips and he drops his hand to her butt, squeezing one of her cheeks.
I grin, watching them both. They stop kissing after a while, and Talen slips his hand back into mine.
Angelaria, however, is more insistent. She trails her finger down his neck. "When you're a hero, you can pay me the money you owe me. You get fame, I get fortune, and we part ways."
"And," Talen whispers, "You don't get any part of my boyfriend. That's what I'm looking forward to the most when you leave. I'll make sure he forgets you."
She sighs and stares at me. "I guess it wasn't meant to be, my love," she says. "But if you think he'll forget me...you're more of a fool than I thought."
Talen scowls and I'm wondering why he's scowling. I take my fingers and force his lips into a smile before he playfully slaps my hands from his face.
I grin at Angelaria. "I guess not," I say to her.
Then I happily return my gaze to Talen, my head swimming in the kind of good vibes that only puppy love creates.
He puts his hands on the side of my face. "You'll always love only me," he says, staring into my eyes.
I nod. "Yes, Talen." And I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't.
The king seems generally intrigued. "You're playing with fire in using Eros on him," he says. "Atlanteans are especially susceptible to its incredible effects."
"Mind your own business, my king," Angelaria replies.
Braedir clears his throat, "The only way you'll get Calisto's blessing is to isolate him privately and touch the amulet he wears around his neck. They'll be at the Blood Dungeon later tonight."
"Tell me more of this place," Angelaria demands.
"Well, as per our correspondence via mirror from your tent while traveling with Skree, it's a brothel owned and operated by the church of Chagidiel that features only male models offered for pleasure to paying customers; the younger, the better. The whores who work there make a lot of money, and only the richest elite can afford their prices. The place is never hiring unless there are especially violent requests, and those are handled secretly by the razide of Chagidiel that runs the place. The worker is never informed, but it results in a vacancy in their staff of sixty men. However, it's so rare that the place has no trouble securing new 'talent' because even being there for a few months secures one enough money to live on for a lifetime. I should warn you, the Blood Dungeon is not hiring. They want no new models."
"They haven't seen Kian yet," Talen says.
"You're awfully confident in your boyfriend. I guess you'll know soon enough. When we finish here, you'll follow me to my home where the Timeron knight armor is stored that your man here will wear. The armor appeals to fetishists. You," he says pointing at Talen, "will take him into a Meronese bathhouse on the street of the obscene statues. They'll know soon enough that he's not a legitimate knight, and that you're pimping him out. The staff of the brothel washes every day before they perform. They are watched over by Leto, a razide priest of Chagidiel with black skin and many piercings. Get into the bathhouse, and impress Leto, and he might possibly buy what you're selling...namely him. But he has very specific tastes."
"I think we can ensure that Leto will find our dear Kian delectable," she says, patting me on the cheek.
"Delectable?" I query. "Are we going to eat somewhere?"
Talen giggles. "He's adorable this way. We'll be eating, but you won't."
"Why not?" I ask. "And you think I'm adorable?"
Talen kisses me. "Of course I do. And we need you a little starved so that your muscles are very defined for the boys tonight. Kian, do you love me? Are you willing to do whatever I ask tonight? Whatever that I need you to do? For me and for Angelaria?" He rubs his fingers gently over my delicate ears and my heart flutters with the sensation.
"Of course," I say without hesitation. And then I try to sort through my clouded mind. "What is it that you need me to do again?"
"You need to follow me," Angelaria says, "and Braedir to his home. Then we're going to get you dressed in some very nice full plate armor while Talen, the king, and I eat dinner. Then Talen will take you to a bath house to get clean and to meet some friends. These are friends who really want to meet you, Kian."
I blink, liking very much the sound of this plan. "I love baths and friends," I say.
And then we follow Braedir out of the room, but not before Angelaria gives me another hit of Eros from her lovely ornate box.
I shall post Chapter 23 next week