The Blinding Knife
Page 127
“You tell me, brother,” the prisoner said. “Honest question, because I have no way of knowing the answer: how much trouble have you had from Atash since our war?”
It was a body blow. Before the war, the Atashian royals—last remnant of the orders that had existed before Lucidonius—had caused problems and small wars constantly. If the royal family had still been around with their money and influence, their safe havens and their smuggling ships, the Red Cliff Uprising would have been horrendous. As it was, the uprising had failed almost as soon as it began. The slaughter had worked.
“Let me out, brother,” Dazen said. “You’re finished, and you know it. Forgive me for what I said before. Threats and vileness. I didn’t mean it. I just fell into this cell hours ago. I’d thought I was out, and you beat me again. You’ve got an excellent mind, little brother. But your time is done. I can see it in your eyes, and not just in the colors that you’ve lost. You have the smarts, but I have the will, and now the world needs will. There is a threat out there, and it is growing, and only I can save the Seven Satrapies.”
“You were always willing to do what needed to be done,” Gavin said. “That was the difference between us, wasn’t it?” His breath escaped in a long sigh. “It’s all coming apart. There’s no way I can save it. Gavin,” he said, and it was a relief to call his older brother by his real name. “Gavin, I want assurances. Swear to me, swear before Orholam that you won’t take any vengeance on Karris. I don’t know how she’ll react, and I know you may have to exile her, but swear to me you’ll see she’s provided for. And Kip. Same terms.”
Gavin—the real Gavin—squinted, as if considering the terms and the implications they would have on his reign, moving seamlessly from the mad prisoner to the earnest emperor. “In the sight of Orholam, I so swear.”
Gavin the false reached his hand up to the node on the yellow window.
“Wait,” the prisoner said. “Before you let me out. We’ve unfinished business, brother. What do I do with you?” He glanced quickly over at the wall again, a quick crinkle of irritation, instantly smoothed away.
Gavin hesitated. His brother really was magnificent. “I figured you’d kill me. While I’m alive, I’m a threat, aren’t I?”
“You’ve only got a year or so left. Killing you isn’t necessary. Father owns a little island off Melos that would be perfect for an exile. Used to keep a mistress there.”
“That is… quite kind,” Gavin said. “I, I’ve missed you, big brother.” He raised his hand to the node and dissolved the window between them. Then he drew the dagger-pistols from his belt and pulled both triggers. The roar filled the little space as the lead balls blasted through the prisoner’s body. One punched a perfect hole in his sternum. The other smashed through his teeth and blew out the back of his head. The prisoner’s body dropped. Didn’t even twitch. The acrid, comforting aroma of gunpowder followed.
Both pistols had fired. Ilytian handiwork. Gavin could admire that. The Ilytians made fine pistols.
He looked over at the wall, where the prisoner had been glancing repeatedly, but he saw nothing but the reflection of a dead man.
Chapter 85
Waiting was part of life for a Blackguard. It was service as much as throwing yourself in front of a musket or magic. But like most of the Blackguards, Karris hated waiting. She’d come upstairs and heard nothing, then had been instructed to wait for the White, who’d been gone for hours.
Another Blackguard eventually came and told the White’s room guard that there had been an emergency session of the Spectrum called.
Now, after dawn, the White was finally being wheeled down the long hallway from the lift to her own room. Karris’s impatience was quickly replaced by concern for the old woman. She shouldn’t be made to stay up all night. The strain of it was evident on her face.
The White smiled at Karris as she was wheeled into her own room, but it was a perfunctory smile. The White had more Blackguards today than usual—two of the new inductees, and Jin Holvar, a woman who’d entered the same year Karris had, though she was a few years younger than Karris.
Karris and Jin helped the White relieve herself, having to support almost all of her weight. Karris had to help her clean herself.
“My apologies, child. The body fails,” the White murmured, embarrassed.
The two young Blackguards, Gill and Gavin Greyling, studiously avoided looking back. The time would come when the young men would have to help with this. There simply weren’t enough Archers in the Blackguard to have two women on every shift. But right now, they were no doubt simply having to adjust to the very fact that the White needed to relieve herself at all. Karris remembered being young and in awe.
Felt like a long time ago, now.
“You can go,” Karris told the young men. “I’ll meet you back in the barracks to talk. Jin and I will—”
“No, I want them to stay,” the White said wearily. “Jin, you can go.”
Jin left and Karris helped the White into her bedclothes. Karris helped the White totter toward bed, and then helped her sit up. It was, technically, not the Blackguard’s duty, but the White’s room slave was old and frail herself. The White didn’t want to buy another slave when she said she had so little time left anyway, and didn’t want to get rid of the one she had—little though the old woman did for her now.
The White sighed deeply. “Now,” she said. “Work.”
“You look exhausted, Mistress,” Karris said. “And I need to interview these men. They were on duty, earlier—”
“I know where they were. Why do you think I took them with me?” the White asked.
Karris furrowed her brow.
“The Spectrum,” the White said, “has declared war. Tonight we voted on the composition of forces.”
“Pardon me?” Karris said.
“Blood Forest and Ruthgar had already mobilized their armies, and they’re almost here. They’ve known this was coming as soon as Atash was invaded. But no one else will be able to get their armies into the fray before Ru’s fate is decided, I’m afraid. Andross Guile will be in charge of directing the Chromeria’s contribution and managing the Blood Forest and Ruthgari generals.”
“So there’s to be no promachos?” Karris asked. “And how is Lord Guile going to—”
“It is as it is,” the White said. “It was cleverly done when Gavin couldn’t be reached, so he and his new satrapy had no vote. The proposals were managed with Andross’s typical skill. He knows his parliamentary maneuvering. It was war on his terms or let Ru fall. He wanted to be named promachos, and we had to call it a victory to stop him from that. I suspect he didn’t expect to get it, but there you have it. Mobilization will begin this morning.”
Karris opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.
“Now,” the White said, turning to the Greyling brothers, “tell me what happened in the Prism’s chambers last night.”
Gill, the elder brother, cleared his throat and glanced at Karris.
“Don’t spare her,” the White ordered. “She might as well know the truth.”
It was a body blow. Before the war, the Atashian royals—last remnant of the orders that had existed before Lucidonius—had caused problems and small wars constantly. If the royal family had still been around with their money and influence, their safe havens and their smuggling ships, the Red Cliff Uprising would have been horrendous. As it was, the uprising had failed almost as soon as it began. The slaughter had worked.
“Let me out, brother,” Dazen said. “You’re finished, and you know it. Forgive me for what I said before. Threats and vileness. I didn’t mean it. I just fell into this cell hours ago. I’d thought I was out, and you beat me again. You’ve got an excellent mind, little brother. But your time is done. I can see it in your eyes, and not just in the colors that you’ve lost. You have the smarts, but I have the will, and now the world needs will. There is a threat out there, and it is growing, and only I can save the Seven Satrapies.”
“You were always willing to do what needed to be done,” Gavin said. “That was the difference between us, wasn’t it?” His breath escaped in a long sigh. “It’s all coming apart. There’s no way I can save it. Gavin,” he said, and it was a relief to call his older brother by his real name. “Gavin, I want assurances. Swear to me, swear before Orholam that you won’t take any vengeance on Karris. I don’t know how she’ll react, and I know you may have to exile her, but swear to me you’ll see she’s provided for. And Kip. Same terms.”
Gavin—the real Gavin—squinted, as if considering the terms and the implications they would have on his reign, moving seamlessly from the mad prisoner to the earnest emperor. “In the sight of Orholam, I so swear.”
Gavin the false reached his hand up to the node on the yellow window.
“Wait,” the prisoner said. “Before you let me out. We’ve unfinished business, brother. What do I do with you?” He glanced quickly over at the wall again, a quick crinkle of irritation, instantly smoothed away.
Gavin hesitated. His brother really was magnificent. “I figured you’d kill me. While I’m alive, I’m a threat, aren’t I?”
“You’ve only got a year or so left. Killing you isn’t necessary. Father owns a little island off Melos that would be perfect for an exile. Used to keep a mistress there.”
“That is… quite kind,” Gavin said. “I, I’ve missed you, big brother.” He raised his hand to the node and dissolved the window between them. Then he drew the dagger-pistols from his belt and pulled both triggers. The roar filled the little space as the lead balls blasted through the prisoner’s body. One punched a perfect hole in his sternum. The other smashed through his teeth and blew out the back of his head. The prisoner’s body dropped. Didn’t even twitch. The acrid, comforting aroma of gunpowder followed.
Both pistols had fired. Ilytian handiwork. Gavin could admire that. The Ilytians made fine pistols.
He looked over at the wall, where the prisoner had been glancing repeatedly, but he saw nothing but the reflection of a dead man.
Chapter 85
Waiting was part of life for a Blackguard. It was service as much as throwing yourself in front of a musket or magic. But like most of the Blackguards, Karris hated waiting. She’d come upstairs and heard nothing, then had been instructed to wait for the White, who’d been gone for hours.
Another Blackguard eventually came and told the White’s room guard that there had been an emergency session of the Spectrum called.
Now, after dawn, the White was finally being wheeled down the long hallway from the lift to her own room. Karris’s impatience was quickly replaced by concern for the old woman. She shouldn’t be made to stay up all night. The strain of it was evident on her face.
The White smiled at Karris as she was wheeled into her own room, but it was a perfunctory smile. The White had more Blackguards today than usual—two of the new inductees, and Jin Holvar, a woman who’d entered the same year Karris had, though she was a few years younger than Karris.
Karris and Jin helped the White relieve herself, having to support almost all of her weight. Karris had to help her clean herself.
“My apologies, child. The body fails,” the White murmured, embarrassed.
The two young Blackguards, Gill and Gavin Greyling, studiously avoided looking back. The time would come when the young men would have to help with this. There simply weren’t enough Archers in the Blackguard to have two women on every shift. But right now, they were no doubt simply having to adjust to the very fact that the White needed to relieve herself at all. Karris remembered being young and in awe.
Felt like a long time ago, now.
“You can go,” Karris told the young men. “I’ll meet you back in the barracks to talk. Jin and I will—”
“No, I want them to stay,” the White said wearily. “Jin, you can go.”
Jin left and Karris helped the White into her bedclothes. Karris helped the White totter toward bed, and then helped her sit up. It was, technically, not the Blackguard’s duty, but the White’s room slave was old and frail herself. The White didn’t want to buy another slave when she said she had so little time left anyway, and didn’t want to get rid of the one she had—little though the old woman did for her now.
The White sighed deeply. “Now,” she said. “Work.”
“You look exhausted, Mistress,” Karris said. “And I need to interview these men. They were on duty, earlier—”
“I know where they were. Why do you think I took them with me?” the White asked.
Karris furrowed her brow.
“The Spectrum,” the White said, “has declared war. Tonight we voted on the composition of forces.”
“Pardon me?” Karris said.
“Blood Forest and Ruthgar had already mobilized their armies, and they’re almost here. They’ve known this was coming as soon as Atash was invaded. But no one else will be able to get their armies into the fray before Ru’s fate is decided, I’m afraid. Andross Guile will be in charge of directing the Chromeria’s contribution and managing the Blood Forest and Ruthgari generals.”
“So there’s to be no promachos?” Karris asked. “And how is Lord Guile going to—”
“It is as it is,” the White said. “It was cleverly done when Gavin couldn’t be reached, so he and his new satrapy had no vote. The proposals were managed with Andross’s typical skill. He knows his parliamentary maneuvering. It was war on his terms or let Ru fall. He wanted to be named promachos, and we had to call it a victory to stop him from that. I suspect he didn’t expect to get it, but there you have it. Mobilization will begin this morning.”
Karris opened her mouth, but had nothing to say.
“Now,” the White said, turning to the Greyling brothers, “tell me what happened in the Prism’s chambers last night.”
Gill, the elder brother, cleared his throat and glanced at Karris.
“Don’t spare her,” the White ordered. “She might as well know the truth.”
