Chaos and Retribution Box Set, page 56
part #1 of Chaos and Retribution Series
“No, it wasn’t that,” Cowley said. “I told you already, I’ve been seeing Amma again.” Cowley and the red-haired Amma had been on-again, off-again for years now. It was hard to keep up with them. Theirs was a tumultuous relationship, a situation not helped at all by Cowley’s tendency to flirt nearly constantly.
“I don’t see any sawdust in your hair like you usually have from sleeping on a tavern floor,” Strout said, looking him over.
“I’m late because I was talking with Willem.”
“The old servant who wears that necklace with the funny symbol on it?” Gage asked.
“Yes and that funny symbol is the symbol of the god he worships, Norve. He’s devout and goes to the temple nearly every day. Or at least he did. When I saw him this morning he was upset, practically crying. The old man has always been kind to me so I stopped him and asked him what was wrong. He said he went to the temple at dawn this morning and found the door standing open. When he went inside he found the priest of the temple and his three acolytes all dead.”
That got everyone’s attention, even Flint’s. They stopped what they were doing and looked at him.
“Dead?” Lukas asked.
Cowley nodded grimly.
“A robbery gone bad, maybe,” Noah mused.
“Nope. It wasn’t that. He said they’d been disemboweled, their guts strewn everywhere. Then whoever did it used their blood to write ‘the gods are dead’ on the walls.”
“Oh…shit,” Gage said.
“Who would do something like that?” Lukas asked.
As if by unspoken signal all of them turned to look at the ruined tower, its top half visible above the palace.
“Do you think they had something to do with it?” Lukas asked in a low voice.
“It has to be them,” Noah said. “Who else would it be?”
Fen felt stunned. The Ankharans had to be behind this. Who else would write “the gods are dead” on the wall? But why? What did they hope to accomplish? He realized then that it was more important than ever that he find a chance to speak with the Fist. He had to find some way to get Barik to see that the Ankharans were up to no good.
Flint spoke up then. “Talking and thinking are a soldier’s worst enemies. They bring nothing but trouble. Do them on your own time. Right now we have orders to follow and work to do. Finish gearing up and move out. Those pups aren’t going to train themselves.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Fen made his way back to the castle at the end of the day. He’d spent a lot of the day thinking about the murdered priest and he was more convinced than ever that the Ankharans were behind it. He wasn’t sure why they had done it. He wasn’t sure why they were in Samkara at all, though he was sure they hadn’t come all this way just to help the Fist unlock his powers. He had to find a way to convince the Fist to send them away before it was too late. And that started with getting to speak to the Fist without them around. He was going to try once again to get an audience as soon as he got cleaned up.
As he passed through the castle gates the two guards on duty greeted him.
“Any of the freshies worth anything?” the older of the two guards asked Fen. His name was Shinn and he was near to retirement age, with a large, bushy beard and a belly to match. One of Shinn’s ears was mostly gone, lost to a sword many years ago and he walked with a limp. He was a friendly man and Fen often stopped to talk with him when he had the time.
“What was that?” Fen asked, coming out of his thoughts.
“I was asking about the fresh recruits. You spent all day training them, right? Do you think they’ll be any good?”
“They’re coming along,” Fen said. “I wouldn’t want to count on them right away.” While he was talking he glanced over at the palace, and what he saw drove all other thoughts out of his mind. Shinn saw the expression on his face change and turned to see what he was looking at.
It was the merchant’s son with the long, blond hair. He and Ravin were standing by his wagon. He was standing very close to her. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She laughed and gave him a playful swat on the shoulder.
Since the last time Fen had spoken to Ravin, he’d worked very hard at putting her out of his mind. He’d kept himself constantly busy, working harder than ever before. During that time he’d managed to convince himself that things were better this way. With his affliction, he had no future to offer her. It hurt now, but they were both better off in the long run. They both needed to move on. He was glad that she’d found someone and even happier that he had wealth. He could take her away from her life as a servant and give her a life he, Fen, would never have been able to.
All of that went instantly out the window. Fen felt like he’d been sucker punched. His whole day went instantly black. Without realizing it, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
“So it’s like that, is it?” Shinn said, frowning. “I thought it was strange I hadn’t seen the two of you together for a while. I never liked that kid. The first time I saw him I didn’t like him. Too smooth, too cocky. Now I know why.” He moved closer to Fen and in a low voice he said, “You want any help?”
Fen gave him a questioning look, unsure what he was talking about.
“Us soldiers have to stick together, you know? I’m thinking maybe we could…you know…” He gestured toward the young man.
“I think we definitely could,” the other guard said.
“Could be next time he shows up at the gates we find something in his wagon that shouldn’t be there,” Shinn said. “Turn him over to the city watch. Shake him up a little. Make him think he ought to stay away from the castle for a while, let someone else handle the deliveries.”
His offer was tempting. It was certainly better than what Fen wanted to do right then, which involved inflicting violence on the young man. Once he was out of the way for a while Fen could have a real talk with Ravin.
And tell her what? That he had some terrible affliction and he was probably going to die soon, but he might hurt her first?
“Thanks, Shinn, but no,” Fen said reluctantly. “I can’t have you do that. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“That’s not how it looks to me. Chatting up a soldier’s girl is about as wrong as it gets.”
“She’s not my girl anymore,” Fen said. The words tasted bad in his mouth.
Shinn looked him over. “You sure?” Fen nodded. “If you say so, then. But if you change your mind, just say the word.”
Fen passed through the gates and headed for the barracks. As he walked he glanced over at the two of them and saw the young man handing Ravin something wrapped in a cloth. He saw the way her eyes lit up and a fresh pain went through him.
He took his time cleaning up, not wanting to see the two of them together again. But he didn’t go slowly enough and as he approached the palace he saw the young man driving away. Ravin was standing there staring after him. She looked so beautiful that it hurt. He slowed, thinking that he should go to the mess hall or the stables or somewhere and kill some time until she had gone inside, but she turned right then and saw him. A mix of emotions went across her face before she got herself under control. She gave him a neutral nod, then she hurried inside and closed the door behind her.
Fen had to stop and get himself under control all over again. Why did he have to see her again? It would be so much easier to get over her if he never saw her. Why did his chest hurt so much?
A minute later he was sufficiently recovered to continue on. He nodded to the guards at the front doors of the palace and went inside. A few of the servants spoke to him as he made his way to the throne room, and he returned their greetings, but he hardly saw them, so lost was he in thoughts of Ravin. When he got to the throne room, he asked the guards at the door if the Fist was inside. Instead of answering, one of them opened the door for him.
Barik was sitting on his throne listening to one of his generals give him an update on the army’s readiness. It wasn’t General Arkannen. Officially Arkannen had retired years before, not long after the nobility were all executed, and moved to his country estate. But Fen knew the truth, that he’d gotten a none-too-subtle hint from the Fist about his future if he stayed in the city any longer, and he’d wisely taken it and fled.
Fen waited until the general finished his report and left.
“What is it?” the Fist asked, seeing the look on Fen’s face. “I can see something is bothering you.”
“I need to talk to you in private.” Besides the two of them there were a handful of guards, a secretary and several servants in the room. The Fist gave an order and they left.
“I hope you have not come to try to talk me out of my plans for war,” the Fist said. “That discussion is over.”
“No, that’s not it.” Fen moved closer and lowered his voice in case any servants were nearby trying to listen in. “This morning I heard that the temple of Norve was desecrated, the priest and his acolytes killed.”
“So? I assume the city watch is looking into it. Why are you telling me?”
“I think the Ankharans did it.”
The Fist scowled. “What makes you say that?”
“On the wall someone painted in blood ‘the gods are dead’.”
“And that means they did it?”
Fen nodded.
“There are plenty of people with a gripe against the gods, Fen. It could have been someone who went to the priest of Norve for help, maybe to cure some serious affliction, and when it didn’t work—because the gods never respond to our pleas—he took action. Have you considered that?”
“I have. But I still think it is the Ankharans who did it. I heard them say the gods are dead.”
“This is a serious charge you’re leveling, Fen, accusing someone of murder. I assume you have some proof beyond that.”
“No, I don’t. I thought—”
“You thought? Are you saying you want me to arrest someone because of something you think?”
“I didn’t say that,” Fen said desperately, wondering how this had all gone so wrong. He knew in his heart that the foreigners were involved in this, but he could think of no way to convince the Fist.
“I never thought I’d see this from you, Fen. I never thought you would use your place in my favor to gain an advantage.”
“I’m not doing that!” Fen said, horrified.
“Aren’t you? You come here and insinuate that the foreigners are behind the murder of several Samkaran citizens, and yet you have no proof at all. What else are you trying to do if not to get them arrested?”
“I only wanted to warn you.”
But the Fist ignored his words and was staring at him suspiciously. “Why, Fen? Do you fear that your position will be usurped by them? Is that it?”
Fen went to one knee. “I promise you, Fist, that I care nothing for my position. Everything I do is for Samkara. That’s all I care about. If you want to take away my rank and give me the lowest position in the army I accept it. I ask only to serve.”
The Fist looked down at him for a minute, his dark eyes searching, probing. Then he nodded. “Get up, Fen. I believe you.” Fen stood. “But be sure you make no more false accusations. I warn you. I will not be so gentle with you next time. You have my favor, but that does not make you above the law. The punishment for falsely accusing another is prison. You would do well to remember that.”
“I understand, Fist.”
“It is too bad you cannot overcome your suspicions, Fen,” the Fist said, getting up off his throne and beginning to pace. “There is much I would like to share with you. The things they are teaching me are incredible. My power is growing by the day. You would not believe what I am now capable of, and I have only begun to scratch the surface of what I will someday be able to do.”
As he spoke, he grew animated. His eyes were lit by some inner fire and he held up a clenched fist. Fen had never heard him sound like this. There was a ferocity about him that had never been there before, a kind of manic intensity that was disturbing.
“What kind of things can you do?” Fen asked.
But before the Fist could answer, the doors to the throne room opened. Fen turned to see the four Ankharans enter. How was it they were showing up just then? Fen wondered. Was it purely coincidence? Or did they know he was coming to see the Fist and came to make sure he wasn’t making trouble for them?
“Maphothet,” the Fist said. “It’s good you are here. Fen tells me the priest and the acolytes of the god Norve have been killed. He thinks you might have been involved. Do you know anything of this?”
Fen was stunned. He’d never dreamed the Fist would tell the foreigners outright what he’d said.
Maphothet’s eyes went to Fen, searching, probing. His eyes were almost completely black, the whites barely visible at all. The power in his gaze was palpable. Fen felt his fingers start tingling. The tingling ran up his arms. There was a sensation of pressure behind his eyes. He blinked to try and clear it.
“A god who cannot protect his followers is no god at all,” Maphothet said at last.
His words seemed to come from far away. The pressure behind Fen’s eyes got worse and now he had a terrible headache. Fen had begun sweating profusely. He felt unbearably hot, like there was a fire in his chest.
With alarm, Fen realized that his affliction was rearing its head. The power inside him was awakening. At the same time, the floor began to vibrate under his feet. He sensed strange, powerful energies rising toward him from deep in the earth. He fought to keep the power within him under control, to keep it from connecting with the power in the earth, but he knew that if he didn’t leave soon it would be too late.
“I was mistaken,” he said through gritted teeth. “My apologies.” He turned to the Fist and bowed. “With your leave, Fist, I have duties to attend to.”
The Fist waved him away and Fen fled. With every step he could feel the man’s eyes on his back. His fists were clenched, and he was shaking with the effort of restraining the strange power.
Once outside the throne room the feeling began to subside. The pressure inside his skull eased. The strange fever cooled. Fen unclenched his fists and discovered tiny fragments of reddish stone embedded in his palms.
What just happened? he wondered. He had not lost control of his emotions, which was what usually triggered the attacks. It all started when Maphothet gazed at him, as if the stranger’s presence triggered it. But why? Did this mean he was getting worse?
Fen made a vow to himself then. Whatever it took, he would uncover the truth about the Ankharans. Even if it turned out to be the last thing he ever did. They were dangerous. He feared they were driving the Fist to madness. Expelling them from Samkara was more important than his own life.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Ten fights today!” Noah exclaimed, throwing his sword belt down on his cot. “I swear, every time I turned around they were at it again.” It was the end of the day and most of Wolfpack squad was in the barracks, all of them having spent another day training the conscripts, readying them for war.
“A certain amount of fighting is normal,” Gage said, “but I’ve also noticed that the men I’m training seem on edge. I had to have two men carried off to the healers today.”
“It’s not only the soldiers,” Lukas chimed in. “I stopped in the market on the way back to have something to eat, and there was a brawl while I was there. There were probably twenty people involved before the watch showed up and started cracking heads.”
“It’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging over the city,” Gage said. “At one point I got in a shouting match with one of the sergeants. I thought we were going to end up fighting.” For Noah to say the same thing would have been nothing, but Gage was the most easygoing man in the squad.
Fen listened to them talk and said nothing. He’d noticed the darkness too. Unlike the rest of them, though, he was certain he knew what the cause of it was. It was the Ankharans. It had to be. They were up to something and whatever it was, it was leaching out into the city. He wished he could get the Fist to see it too, but he knew he couldn’t bring it up again without some concrete proof, which he didn’t have.
“I think it’s your imagination,” Noah said. “Fights are part of training. Look how often we’ve fought over the years.”
“I don’t know,” Lukas said. “I think this is something more.”
“I’m with Noah,” Strout said, speaking up for the first time. “The city is preparing for war. It has everyone on edge. I think it’s a good thing. It keeps a soldier sharp, ready for action.”
“What do you think, Fen?” Lukas asked him.
But before he could say what he thought, Cowley came storming in. He slammed the door behind him, stomped over and kicked his cot. “That’s it!” he yelled. “This time I’m done with her for good!” He threw himself down on his cot and put his hands behind his head.
“Let me guess,” Noah said. “Amma and you have been fighting again.” Cowley and Amma fought regularly. They split up. Then they made up and got back together. Whereupon they started the whole sequence anew. They’d all heard it a hundred times before and were all pretty sick of it. “I think I’ve heard this story before.”
Cowley sat up and glared at him. “Not like this, you haven’t. This time is different. I still can’t believe what she said. I will never, ever speak to her again.”
“That would be a relief,” Strout said. “What you two see in each other is beyond me. Why don’t you give it up already?”
“Go jump off a cliff,” Cowley growled.
Strout sat up, his expression darkening. “If you don’t like what I have to say, then keep your petty little problems to yourself.”
“Did you say petty?” Cowley jumped to his feet, his fists bunched. Strout got up too.
“Take it easy,” Gage said, standing up and getting between the two. “It’s been a long day. Can we skip the fighting for a while?”
