Heirs of the Fallen: Book 04 - Wrath of the Fallen (24 page)

Leitos struggled with that until they came to a matched pair of towering doors layered in gold and aged ivory carvings.

“Wait here,” the eldest guard ordered Leitos and Ulmek. His brow was lumpy under a fall of oily gray hair, and his bulbous nose was squashed deep into the center of his face, as if someone had thrashed him brutally and often when he was a babe. Like his fellows, he smelled of moldy cheese and excrement. He jabbed a finger at those three now. “Make sure these fools don’t get up to any trouble.”

After receiving nods of agreement, the guard pounded at the doors, careless of the great wealth encrusting their surface. When it opened a crack, he started to slip through, but Ulmek caught his arm. “Make sure you give Muranna my name.”

Squash-nose leered. “Unless you want to gobble my cock, I don’t owe you anything, so you can keep your demands to yourself.”

Shocked gasped came from the other guards, and for a moment Leitos thought sure the Brother was going to cut the man’s heart out.

Ulmek settled for a curt, “Do as I say, or I’ll carve your gods-cursed eyeballs out of your skull, and stuff them into that foul mouth of yours.”

Squash-nose gawped, revealing a handful of rotten teeth, then jerked out of Ulmek’s grasp and darted through the opening. A second later, the door boomed shut.

“You told ol’ Thayon, you did,” one of the other guards laughed. The man passed a hand over the few limp strands of black hair at the crown of his otherwise bald head.

“And what are you called?” Ulmek asked, face pleasant, save for his eyes, which glimmered hard and dark as obsidian.

“Blavis,” the man said eagerly. He made a clumsy little bow, and his tuft of hair wiggled. When he straightened, he swiped the sleeve of his tunic through strings of yellow snot leaking from his nose.

“Blavis, indeed,” Ulmek said musingly, as if that explained a great deal.

“I’m Gargun,” another guard piped. “An’ this one’s my brother, Rineold.” These two were skinny as skeletons. “Muranna always sets us to guardin’ the Hall of Bones, as we’s the best at it.”

“And there’s not a better choice your mistress could have made,” Ulmek assured them.

“We’ve heard stories of you,” Rineold blurted.

“And of all the Brothers,” Blavis added.

His nostrils flaring, Ulmek leaned away as Gargun edged closer. The guard’s grimy hands fondled the haft of his spear. “If you need a good fighter to join your order, why, you’ve come to the right place. I can fight demon-born, an’ so can Blavis and Rineold.”

“Not Thayon, though!” Blavis snorted. “Gods no!”

“Too old, he is,” Rineold said with a sad shake of his head.

“An’ too stupid!” Gargun hooted.

By now Ulmek’s upper lip had grown a curl. “I’ll keep you in mind,” he promised, having to raise his voice above the energetic babble.

Silence fell at once, and looks of awe and gratefulness crossed the trio’s faces. Ulmek took that moment to turn his back on them.

The guards looked to Leitos, all but begging him to engage in conversation. As he didn’t have a word for any of them, he joined Ulmek in a silent study of the ivory and gold doors before them.

A moment later, one of the great doors opened again, and Thayon emerged. He gave Ulmek a hateful, piggy glare, and jerked his head in the direction he’d come from. “She says you’re welcome to enter—but if you get up to any mischief—any at all—I’ll have off your stones.”

The idiot grins fell from other three guards. They set to grumbling amongst themselves, and casting hard looks at their leader.

“The day you draw steel on me,” Ulmek said, “is the day I sheath a sword in your decayed arsehole. Now stand aside.” When Ulmek pressed in close, Thayon’s lips skinned back from his dung-hued teeth, and he bumbled out of the way.

Leitos passed over the threshold into a gloomy antechamber. Ulmek came after, slamming the door behind him. Outside, Thayon’s impotent threats rose immediately, spiced liberally with vile oaths. A moment more, and all the guards were shouting and cursing one another.

“Poor Thayon,” said the young woman who greeted them. “You must forgive his manners. He has his uses, few as they are.” Lean and tall, she wore dark layers of strapped and studded leather, and there was a hint of sardonic laughter in her eyes and in the turn of her full lips.

Here, Leitos knew, was no dimwitted guard of the Hall of Bones. What troubled him was that her demeanor, sure and confidant, and the easy way she clasped the hilt of her scabbarded sword, reminded him too much of a Hunter—Zera, in point of fact.

The woman motioned for them to follow her through another set of doors, which she promptly barred. Leitos’s mouth fell open at the unexpected light and richness that greeted his eyes. The woman set out across the mosaicked floor of another hall, this one smaller but more sumptuous than the outer hall. Decorative horseshoe arches supported high barrel vaults. Statues of stone and burnished metal lined the walls between dozens of barred doors. Mirrors hung behind radiant glass globes filled the hall with a warm yellow light.

“So much firemoss,” Ulmek said to Leitos, “shows Muranna’s success. One of those globes alone is worth more than a hundred slaves.”

“And how many hundreds would it take to pay for all the rest?” Leitos wondered aloud, his skin crawling at the thought of trading humankind for light.

“More than there are in all of Geldain.”

“My mistress does not trade in slaves,” their guide said over her shoulder.

“Then what?” Leitos demanded

“
Swatarin
, mostly....” She trailed off, her dark eyes wandering over Ulmek in a way that made the normally taciturn warrior fidget. When she spoke again, she had lowered her voice. “It was once thought that
swatarin
and firemoss only grew across the Sea of Drakarra, but Muranna has learned to grow them here. Even under the watchful eyes of the Faceless One’s minions, she is able to trade enough of each to secure herself, and all her household.”

“I would think that would be a close secret,” Ulmek said.

The woman’s eyes drank him in. “Besides Muranna, only myself and a few others know the truth. Such is the reason no one is allowed to enter her inner sanctum. But you, Ulmek, Brother of the Crimson Shield, have always been welcome.”

“You seem to know me,” Ulmek said, “but I’m sure we’ve never met.”

“I’m Sybeth. You would not remember me ... but I remember you.”

Ulmek frowned. “
Sybeth.
...You were a girl, last I came here. Muranna’s handmaid.”

“So you do remember,” she laughed prettily, and Leitos noticed that she put an exaggerated sway into her hips. “Of course, now I’m neither a girl, nor a handmaid.”

“Then what are you?” Ulmek asked, just short of mockery.

That tone did not seem to sit well with Sybeth, and her seductive sway became a heavy-heeled stalking. “I’m Captain of Muranna’s House Guard.”

At Ulmek’s noncommittal grunt, Sybeth picked up her pace.

“You might have made an enemy in that one,” Leitos whispered.

“All the world is full of foes,” Ulmek said distractedly, his gaze flickering once more to Sybeth’s hips. “And the most dangerous are always the prettiest.”

Thinking of Zera, Leitos couldn’t disagree. Unbidden, he also thought of Belina. She was dangerous in her own hidden way, like velvet covering sharp steel. Most people, he was sure, didn’t see it for all of Nola’s dangerousness. He gave his head a shake, and distanced himself from thoughts of either of those three sisters. He needed no distractions, not now.

Sybeth came to another set of doors more grand than any others so far, layered in gold leaf and embedded with gems. She gave the ornate surface a gentle rap.

“Enter,” called a woman’s husky voice.

Sybeth swung open the door. “After your affairs with Muranna are concluded,” she said against Ulmek’s ear, “perhaps we’ll have a moment to ... catch up?”

“Perhaps,” Ulmek said thickly, and hurried into the chamber.

Leitos followed close on his heels. Sybeth was still laughing when the door closed, but Ulmek’s whisper put the woman out of Leitos’s mind. “Remember what I told you, little brother. The most dangerous are always the prettiest.”

Chapter 30

Ulmek’s warning faded as Leitos’s gaze swept over the chamber. Sheer pastel curtains hung at intervals from the coffered ceiling, partially dividing one colossal room into many. Through the gaps, Leitos saw a stunning abundance of wealth, from the thick carpets, to the elaborate furnishings, to the intricate tapestries on the walls. All was lit by firemoss lamps fashioned from glass blown into fanciful shapes. More than the treasures, it was the woman seated on a throne-like chair at the far end of the columned room that caught his eye.

“Ulmek!” Muranna said. “You have been absent so long I thought you’d been killed. It did not help that I had heard rumors of a great defeat that had befallen the Brothers of the Crimson Shield. Of course, we both know King Rothran has always been wise enough to spread dire whispers about the enemies of the Faceless One. Such keeps the rabble compliant and utterly hopeless. Not that they have much room in their lives for hope of any sort.”

Ulmek shrugged. “Yes, well, rumors are only rumors until proven true.”

Leitos struggled not to stare when Muranna stood off her chair. The dark-haired women wore a gown of crimson silk that was thinner than a dream. Her slim hips and generous breasts strained against the delicate fabric. A lapis and gold pendant the size of gull’s egg glimmered at the top her cleavage. When he felt a stirring in his middle, he dropped his gaze to his feet. Beside him, Ulmek appeared bold and sure as ever, but there was a wooden quality to his face.

Muranna stepped down off the low dais, her movements a slow, seductive dance. “So, are any of the rumors true?”

Leitos thought sure Ulmek would lie, but he did not. “Yes, as it happens. My order has fallen.”

“A pity.” Muranna sauntered closer, a silver goblet hanging carelessly from her fingers. “I also regret that if you have come for boys to fill Ba’Sel’s sad little band, I have none to give you. Things have changed in Zuladah, of late.”

Ulmek drew himself up. “I do not seek a few orphans, but an army.”

A brief flicker of surprise crossed her oval face, and was gone just as quickly. “So Ba’Sel has finally decided to stop playing his ridiculous game?”

Ulmek took a deep breath. “Ba’Sel has nothing to do with my request.”

A slight frown pinched her brows. “Surely nothing ill has befallen our great leader?” Leitos sensed true concern from her.

Ulmek swallowed. “Ba’Sel is hale of body but ... his mind is broken.”

“Perhaps that is for the best ... if it puts
you
in charge.”

“It’s nothing I would have wanted.”

“Of course not, good Ulmek, but circumstances are what they are.” Her concern for Ba’Sel had evaporated. “Yet, as you have come looking for an army where there is none, I must worry if Ba’Sel’s madness hasn’t touched you?”

“We both know you command a great number of ruffians.”

“Thieves, smugglers, and liars are no army. But even if they were, what need have I of armies and the wars they would fight? And that is what you are talking about, is it not? For why have an army unless one also means to make war? Furthermore, as there is only one true enemy of humankind, that would mean making war against the Faceless One.”

“You have never been a fool.”

Muranna sipped her wine. “No, I have not. That is why I reside here—wealthy, pampered, and wanting for nothing. War is for desperate fools who will give over their lives for dreams better left undreamed.” She smiled at Ulmek’s frown. “But sit, friend, have a taste of wine, and tell me all that you hope to gain.”

“Why waste my breath?”

Muranna laughed. “Because we are old friends, and that’s what friends do. Talk, reminisce, and....” she trailed off, leaving Leitos to wonder what she had left unsaid. By the look in Ulmek’s eyes, Muranna and the Brother might have been rather intimate friends, at one time.

Now she spoke again. “Besides, if you expect me to fund this rebellion of yours, and risk all that I hold dear, I would learn how you mean to ensure success. Mine and yours.”

Ulmek’s face was hard. “There are no promises I can give you.”

“We shall see.”

Muranna led them beyond a fall of gossamer curtains, and sat at an ornate table. While Leitos and Ulmek took their chairs, she poured herself more wine from a tall flagon, splashed more into another two goblets. Reclining in her seat, she crossed one long leg over the other.

“The trick, dear Ulmek, is to change my mind. Speak plainly—it is, after all, what you have always done best.”

Ulmek laughed. “I want an army, as I have already said.”

Muranna sat forward, the amorous creature becoming a shrewd-eyed bargainer. “Will I gain more than I lose?”

“If we succeed, you will gain your freedom—true freedom, in place of this gilded cage.”

“Will those gains linger, or will they be short-lived? I do not want a taste, only to have it ripped away when I am at my happiest.”