Best Laid Plans (13 page)

The other two sniggered, but stopped when the man in black glared at them.

‘If your courage was as great as your appetite, Starn, you’d stop whining and start fighting. Reputation, Starn, that’s what this is about. Someone gives you a bloody nose and you damn well give them one back. If Templum knights want one of my cities they’re going to get more than they bargained for.’

Shader was forced to his knees in front of the group.

‘Another one!’ snapped the man in black. ‘If this continues we’ll have defeated the lot of them without so much as a skirmish.’

The others dutifully laughed and the man in black peered closer at Shader. ‘Name?’ he demanded.

‘Deacon Shader.’

‘Rings a bell. General Starn?’

‘The liberator of Oakendale, my Lord Emperor,’ the fat man said, fiddling with his breastplate and scratching the armpit beneath.

Shader groaned inwardly. The Emperor Hagalle was notoriously intolerant of Nousians. He was reputed to be a cowering paranoiac, too frightened of his own shadow to set foot outside of Jorakum.

‘The ringleader!’ Hagalle said, and then stooped to stare Shader in the face. ‘You remind me of someone else.’ He leaned in closer, tilting his head from side to side. ‘Never mind,’ he said, straightening up. ‘Do we have another cross?’

‘I was not involved,’ Shader said, feeling a pang of guilt, even though it was the truth.

‘But you’re with the Templum Elect, are you not?’ asked the gaunt man with a smug grin.

‘Not anymore,’ Shader said. ‘I’ve left the service of the Ipsissimus.’

‘Ha,’ Hagalle said. ‘You make it sound voluntary.’

Shader met his gaze and winced as Hagalle raised his hand. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed and the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. After an uncomfortable pause, he merely sniffed and wrinkled his brow.

‘It’s not the Templum you should be worrying about,’ Shader said. ‘The city has been taken from within.’

‘So the last one said,’ the barrel-chested man sneered, looking at his companions as if he’d resolved the issue and just wanted to get back to the previous discussion.

‘Barek Thomas, the man you’ve crucified, is not your enemy.’

Hagalle slammed a fist into his palm. ‘He damn well is. Broke my quarantine, assaulted my troops. Blast it, they even singled him out as one of the leaders.’

Shader took a deep breath and fought to keep his voice calm. ‘He was following orders. You’re right, Emperor, obedience in the Templum is not voluntary. They were under the command of a youth named Gaston Rayn. He was never elected, but used his strength and the uncertainty of the others to assume control.’

Shader’s face tightened with the effort of keeping focused on the outcome. It would do no good to point out that his own abandonment of the Order had led to Gaston’s ascension. ‘Barek Thomas has been making efforts to put things right.’

‘Which is what he’s doing,’ Hagalle said, laughing at his own joke. ‘Self-sacrifice is the Nousian path of atonement, is it not?’

Shader threw off the hands of his guards and surged to his feet. He smashed an elbow into one man’s face and hit the other with a right hook. Both went down hard. General Starn’s sword appeared in his hand so quickly that it seemed he’d used magic. Hagalle gently pushed it away and crossed his arms.

‘That’s better,’ he said, eyeing Shader. ‘I like a man to be direct. Can’t stand pussyfooting around. Let’s keep this honest, shall we? You think I’m an intolerant idiot and I despise your putrid sect.’

The guards stood and dusted themselves down. One was holding his nose and cussing under his breath, the other rubbed at his chin and glowered.

‘This isn’t about religion,’ Shader said.

‘It never was.’ Hagalle’s voice was a low growl. ‘It’s about empire building.’

Shader bit his tongue before carrying on. ‘Have you heard of an artefact known as the Statue of Eingana?’

The man with the barrel chest guffawed, but was silenced by a glare from Hagalle.

‘Go on,’ the Emperor said.

‘After the Reckoning, the Dreamer Huntsman split the statue into five pieces and entrusted each to a guardian. One was in the keeping of the Grey Abbot of Pardes.’

Hagalle made a fist, but remained attentive.

‘Soon after my return from Aeterna, the abbey was attacked and the Grey Abbot’s Monas symbol taken. It concealed a piece of the statue.’

Hagalle turned to General Starn. ‘I ordered no such attack.’

Starn shrugged. ‘Could it have been the Sicarii, Emperor?’

Hagalle sighed as if he couldn’t believe how stupid his General was being.

‘It was an army of corpses,’ Shader said.

‘Oh, please!’ the gaunt man protested to the accompaniment of a loud tut from barrel chest.

‘That’s enough!’ stormed Hagalle. ‘Riken, Dalglish, out of my sight!’

The two bowed and backed out of the tent. Hagalle was chewing his lip, his face purple, eyes glinting dangerously.

Shader waited a moment before continuing. ‘The man responsible works for Governor Gen. He’s some sort of medical advisor. Goes by the name of Cadman. He’s the one now in control of your city.’

Hagalle’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Governor. ‘I knew it. Backstabbing ponce. What did I tell you, Starn? Gen’s been nothing but trouble, just like his arse-licking ancestors.’

‘I don’t think the Governor’s involved,’ Shader said. ‘This Cadman’s not all he seems. He has power over the dead and he possesses two pieces of the Statue of Eingana. He nearly got hold of a third.’ Shader’s skin crawled as he once more felt the cold touch of the Dweller. ‘With the statue fully assembled he’ll have the power of the Reckoning at his fingertips. My Lord Emperor, set aside your quarrel with Nousians. Let us help you.’

‘Fantastical nonsense,’ Hagalle said. ‘I would have heard, if this were true. I have eyes and ears everywhere. Everywhere!’

‘The plague, my Lord Emperor,’ Starn said. ‘We have been effectively blinded to events in Sarum.’

‘And what of the plague now?’ Hagalle asked.

‘It’s been dying down,’ Shader said. ‘It’s my belief that the plague and Cadman are linked, but I can’t understand why it should retreat as his power increases.’

‘Because the statue has now attuned to his necromancy,’ said a new voice, causing everyone to turn in astonishment.

‘Please excuse my interruption,’ Aristodeus said, appearing out of nowhere, ‘but there is more at stake here than you can imagine. The time has come for you to play your part, Hagalle.’

‘Who are you to tell me what to do?’ Hagalle took a step towards the philosopher.

Aristodeus raised a finger, his eyes locked on Hagalle’s, icy and unwavering. ‘I’m the one who kept your pathetic empire together when you were too frightened to take a shit in case there were assassins down the latrine.’

Hagalle’s jaw dropped and Starn put his hands to his ears.

‘If it weren’t for me,’ the philosopher continued like a schoolmaster reprimanding an errant child, ‘the Eastern Lords would have crushed your so-called dynasty the day your father died; and even all his successes came from my hand. I don’t have time to flatter Imperial egos, Hagalle. I’ve watched over you since you were a boy and you’re still a boy now as far as I’m concerned.’

Shader watched his old mentor with the feeling that he’d never really known the man. All these years he’d been moulding Hagalle, preparing him for whatever was unravelling. What did that say about Shader’s own childhood, the years of lessons he’d had from Aristodeus? And more to the point, how had the philosopher been on opposite sides of the world at the same time?

‘As Shader says, put aside your quarrel with Aeterna. You must join with her if we are to survive the coming storm. All of us,’ and here Aristodeus turned his eyes on Shader, ‘have our parts to play. The outcome is balanced on a knife’s edge. Do not fail me now, Hagalle.’

‘I will never ally with Aeterna,’ Hagalle said. ‘But as for the matter of a ghoulish army in one of my cities, rest assured, it won’t be there long.’

‘And Deacon Shader?’ Aristodeus asked. ‘Don’t forget I need him.’

Shader looked at the philosopher, but saw nothing other than cold calculation in his grey-blue eyes.

‘He will be kept here until I decide what action to take,’ Hagalle said.

Aristodeus nodded, seemingly satisfied.

‘And Aristodeus,’ Hagalle said, his jaw set firm. ‘Next time I see you, I’ll cut that bald head from your shoulders. Is that understood?’

A flash of anger crossed Aristodeus’s face, but then the air around him shimmered and he was gone.

Hagalle bunched his shoulders and stared at his feet. After what seemed an eternity he spoke.

‘Ready the troops, General.’

Starn saluted and hurried from the pavilion, tripping on the flap as he went.

‘So,’ Hagalle said, studying Shader, ‘you know the bald bastard, too. Funny that, because he’s the one you remind me of. Something about the eyes. You related?’

Shader shook his head. A cold knotting had started in his stomach. Childhood memories drifted into mind and dispersed, drifted and dispersed. His mother and father; the Brinwood friars…and then blackness. Where were all the others? The other children? His extended family? Just Jarl, Gralia, Frater Kelvin, and Aristodeus. Always Aristodeus…

‘Got any Graecian in you?

Shader swallowed and shifted his focus back to the interior of the tent. ‘Britannish, through and through.’

‘So, what’s your role in all this?’

‘No idea,’ Shader said, ‘but I’m getting the impression it’s not going to be good.’

Hagalle pursed his lips. The next instant he clapped his hands and nodded to the guards flanking Shader. They each seized an arm and bent them up high on Shader’s back.

‘What about Barek Thomas?’ Shader asked.

Hagalle looked blank for a moment, scratched his beard and then said to one of the guards, ‘Cut him down and chain him up with this one until I return from Sarum.’

The Emperor glared at the map he’d been studying when Shader arrived. Without warning he smashed his fist into it, picked it up and started ripping it to shreds. The guards hovered uncertainly for a moment and then bundled Shader out of the pavilion.

S
hader was dumped amongst a clump of grasstrees. His wrists and ankles were shackled with iron that pinched, cutting off the blood and numbing his fingers and toes. He felt a mixture of relief that Hagalle was going to investigate Sarum and hopelessness at his own situation. This Shadrak had taken the serpent statue, and he felt naked without it.

He felt even more vulnerable without the gladius. It had spared him from the Dweller and magically healed his body, but there was bound to be a price to pay. If anything, his cheating of death had somehow rendered life more precious. He’d always thought himself ready to meet his maker, but now he wasn’t quite so certain. He allowed himself a sardonic smile. Hardly the self-surrender required of a Nousian.

Barek Thomas’s broken and bloodied body was dragged beside him with no need for chains.

‘Don’t be
cross
,’ said one of the soldiers, a gap-toothed man with greying black hair swept back in a ponytail.

His balding companion punched him on the arm and groaned. ‘That’s terrible, Pete.’

Pete reached down and took hold of Shader’s shackles. ‘Well, Anthony, I suggest you take your complaint up the
chain
of command.’

‘You stupid sod,’ Anthony said as they headed towards the tarpaulin shades on the edge of the grasstrees. ‘Hey, what d’you s’pose their favourite armour is?’

‘Very good, Anthony, very good. Guess if we put them on work detail they’d be in the…’

Barek was pale from loss of blood. His hands were red and swollen where the nails had pierced him. He whimpered and mumbled something through dry and cracked lips.

‘Try to rest Barek,’ Shader said, looking around for something the youth could drink. They’d been left no food or water, and little shelter from the sweltering sun. He called over to the guards, but they merely raised their canteens and drank appreciatively.