Dark Legion (15 page)

 

Crimes against the Empire:

 

Impersonation of the Imperial Inquisition

Breaking into the Imperial Warehouse

Killing of the Emperor's Livestock

Release of the Emperor's Livestock Resulting in Death and Damage

Release of Imperial Slaves

Murder of Kahleil Cobaj — Imperial Slave Master

Murder of Esam Agani — Unknown

Murder of Javier DeCastro — Centurion of the Fifth Legion

 

The last name was still shiny with wet paint. Marcus looked at me, but my eyes remained straight ahead. At the very bottom of the board I noticed a reward listed. Ten gold coins to anyone who provided information that resulted in a confession. The board had some rather glaring omissions. The burning of an imperial ship, the murder of the imperial princes, dozens of nobles, servants, bodyguards and sailors. We stood there for a while, and I listened to the hushed conversations around us.

“I heard that a group of thugs cornered the slaver in an alley,” an older man said to another.

“That vagrant had it coming. Sanza, the jeweler's wife, she told me that he chased her daughter right to the doorstep. The nerve!” a lady said to her friend.

 

Warden Adair walked up, shaking his head, which caused the feather in his wide-brimmed hat to flail about. “What's all this about?” Marcus asked him.

Adair turned to us. He looked tired. He sighed then turned back to the board. “The Dark Legion doing what the Dark Legion does best. Sticking its nose where it's not needed. By the Beloved, what is the warden's office for, if not for this? And the centurion,” Adair said, pointing at the wet paint. “My doctor assures me that he died in his sleep two days ago. He wasn't murdered—the Inquisition are just stirring things up.” Adair soon walked back to his office, grumbling to himself.

 

“Oh, shit,” I said when I saw Podge pointing right at us. The Inquisitors turned to follow his finger, and two of them walked in our direction without uttering a word. Panic struck me. I moved to run, but Marcus's hand on my back kept me in place. Running would be a death sentence, and he probably had more sense than I. Perhaps we could talk our way out of it.

“Come with us,” one said, and they flanked us as they led us back to where Podge stood.

“Lord Darcy informs us that you rescued him this morning. Is this true?” I probably looked surprised, but nodded. “Tell us what happened.”

“Well, we saw a bright light out on the lake. As soon as curfew was up, we walked to the lake, and heard shouting from the water to the east. We rushed over, helped Lord Darcy ashore, and brought him back to town.”

“Do you know which ship it was that burned?” I nodded. The two Inquisitors looked at each other for a long moment before returning their attention to me. “Have you told anyone?” he asked. When I shook my head, he looked relieved. “Good, keep it that way. We must insist you keep quiet on the topic while we diffuse the situation. Understood? Otherwise, we will need to silence you rather more permanently.”

“We understand.”

“Good.”

 

The three Inquisitors left us standing there, and Podge smiled at me. I might even have felt a bit guilty for having done what I had. Honestly, I took no joy in controlling people in that fashion. It was akin to slavery, and I hated slavery with the fire of a thousand suns.

“Thanks again for helping me,” Podge said.

“Don't mention it,” I said, and I meant it. “Did your search party manage to find anyone?”

“No. It looked like the lifeboats were launched, but there were only two. Not nearly enough. We found them capsized. The captain who took me out theorized that they were swamped by desperate people looking for a place on them.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” I lied. A number of those on board could have easily pointed the finger at us. While it was unfortunate so many had died, I'd much rather it was them than me.

Podge promised his assistance if we should ever need it. Not that I needed his promise, but his help might be useful. We wished him well and headed back to the Shady Oak.

 

As we walked, I saw the shopkeeper talking to a man covered in sawdust. He carried a toolbox and wore a belt around his waist equipped with a myriad of tools. Despite the belt, the man's trousers sat low. The shop owner gestured at the gouges along the wall, but the repairman shook his head.

“Those beasts… the reptiles from last night—what are they?” I asked. “And why were they kept in those crates?”

“Three-horns. Apt name, yes? As for the crates, can you imagine them running around loose on the deck of a ship?” Marcus asked. While his words were joking, he wasn't smiling. I wondered if he was uneasy about the presence of the Dark Legion. I was, especially with the stunt we'd pulled the previous evening. Not to mention the fact I was personally responsible for every item on the list, as well as some things that weren't. Well, Marcus had killed the three-horn, but the rest was all me.

“What does the emperor want with these three-horns?”

Marcus sighed. “Before I was arrested I received reports that he was breeding them.”

“Any idea as to what purpose?”

“Not really. I was told they were quite tame when trained.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Marcus looked at me for a long moment before posing his next question. “What control do you have over Podge? On the ship, he suddenly leapt to our assistance, even though you had been mocking the man. Then, at the lake he seemingly forgot everything that happened on the ship. What in the hells did you do to him?”

“Poison,” was the best answer I could come up with.

“Poison?”

“Poison, yes. I have poisons that can make a man… malleable.”

Marcus did not look entirely convinced, which was fair enough, as I had no explanation for how I'd actually administered said poison. To my relief, he left it at that, though his frown remained in place.

 

We walked in silence after that, while the town pulsed around us. Walking into the inn, we were about to head upstairs when Elijah waved us over. “Someone came looking for you,” Elijah said. We looked at one another, each looking as worried as the other. “He's right over there,” Elijah said, pointing at a table. We slowly turned our heads. What waited for us was a foppish man drinking tea from a dainty cup. “He's an arse!” Elijah said. “He complained for minutes about my tea cups. I had to go through my mother's boxes, the Old Ones guide her soul, and find that ridiculous flowery monstrosity.”

I smiled with relief. “He's a tailor. I forgot I asked him to stop by.”

 

It took the small man a long time to take our measurements. I suspected that he liked me in a way that I was distinctly uncomfortable with. When measuring my inseam, the man's hand pressed up against my stones, and when he adjusted the tape, he rubbed against me.

When the tailor had left, Marcus lay on his bed, watching me button up my coat. “Was that really necessary?” Marcus asked.

I was puzzled by the question. “Of course. We need clothes. In a place like this we stand out like a sore thumb.”

“I meant the centurion,” Marcus said. “Why did you kill him? He didn't recognize me—it wasn't necessary.”

I straightened my collar then sat down to put on my boots. “How dare you lecture me? You killed four men walking into Sagemont.”

“That wasn't by choice! And my four hardly compares with the dozens you killed, including the Gods-damned princes!”

“Not by choice? And the men who tried to run away from you at the bridge—did you need to throw knives at them?” I asked. “Admit it! You are more bothered by my methods than my deeds,” I said, looking Marcus in the eye.

Marcus stood up, shaking his head. “And Neysa, will you kill her next?”

I was stunned. “Why would I do that?”

Marcus took another step closer, towering over me. “Because, you idiot, she knows more than anyone.”

I had honestly not considered that, but I doubted she would become a problem. “If needs be, I will. But I will give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Pretty selective with that, aren't we? I know you fancy her, but did you see the reward listed for useful information? Do you think she will stay quiet, when she could earn a lifetime's pay just by pointing the finger at you?”

Marcus walked to the door and opened it. He had a point. I would have given us up in the blink of an eye. I had all but decided to kill her when Marcus turned around. “Don't kill the girl, please. I was making a point. In fact, try not to kill anyone today. I'll be back late—don't wait up.” The door slammed shut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Embers

 

I was angry with Marcus. With everything that had gone wrong the night before, not to mention the arrival of the Dark Legion that morning, I did not see why the man had to get so bent out of shape by the death of one man. A man who would have had no qualms about killing him. I did not need another complication in my life; I had more than my fair share already. I hoped he would snap out of his tantrum soon. If not, I would be forced to pull his chains, to use his true name against him.

 

As poorly as my quest was going, part of me refused to accept that the previous night's failures had put an end to it. How could I give up… and yet, how could I continue? I occupied myself by unpacking and reorganizing my satchel. It contained a leather pouch that I left as it was. I knew the surgical equipment was in good order. The coin purse was still heavy, thanks to Angus and the slave master. Really, it contained more gold coins than most would see in a lifetime.

I took out the most valuable of my possessions and laid it on my bed. It was an old manuscript entitled
The Names of Things
. I'd found the old text in the house of a nobleman I'd assassinated. I'd killed him in his library and then seen the manuscript on the shelf. It was as though it called to me, so, I took it. It was written in a language I barely understood, but did not recognize. It took me a long time to get my head around it, and I was still very much a novice at the magic it taught. Slipped between the pages was a sheet I'd torn from a history book I'd found in Elijah's library downstairs. It was an illustration of the crown of Ubrain and the Ring of the Lion. I knew what the crown looked like, having seen it on my father for the entirety of my youth. But the illustration also showed the ring, something I'd thought was just a story until Angus had told me otherwise. The book said nothing of any magic in the ring. Still, the illustration acted as a reminder for me. Get the crown and ring, find my brother, free my people. I had never been the type to set easy goals for myself.

The satchel also contained a number of tonics, tinctures and poisons I'd removed from the room of torture before I fled. Not all were for killing. My victims frequently passed out before providing the answers I sought, and potions were required to revitalize them. There were of course also a number of poisons among them, including the one I'd made for the centurion. Not all were for killing, though many ended in death.

Poisons were such a great tool, but alas, most were not easy to use in the heat of the moment. I started thinking about how I could change that. I picked up the money purse. It still felt heavy, but not as heavy as it had been a few days before. I consumed my daily poisons, repacked the satchel, and put it over my shoulder. Back to the market I went.

 

On my way out the door, I saw the preacher man back on his dinghy across the road, talking to ten or so people. His congregation had grown and I stepped closer to listen in. He had nothing of interest to say. He just went on about how Yessa encouraged growth in the world around us, and growth within. The usual, in other words. No magic, though, which was all I was interested in. I was walking away toward the market when two Inquisitors approached, looking in my direction. My blood turned to ice. I knew they were on to me, so, I stopped, resigned.

But they passed me by without batting an eye. I looked behind me, confused. They had walked toward me with such determination. Then I saw it. They weren't interested in me. No, they were heading straight for the preacher. Those around him stepped back, but none ran.

“Heretic!” one Inquisitor shouted. “How dare you spread your filth? You know the law. Our Beloved, the emperor, stands between you and the Gods. You are not worthy of speaking on their behalf. And yet, you dare mention them by name. The penalty for such blatant heresy is death, and I will serve it to you now.”

The Inquisitor drew his rapier as he walked. The young man who had witnessed the tree coming to life days before stepped forward to intercede. He drew a blade. Foolish. He raised his sword but had a rapier through his guts before he could do anything else. The Dark Legion were battle-scarred veterans before being selected for their order. The man had no chance. The rest of the congregation fled as the young man collapsed.