Secrets of Arkana Fortress (16 page)

              A hearty guffaw rolled around the meeting room of the hideout as Dedrick’s face broadened with pride. ‘That’s my girl.’ He pushed her away from his embrace slowly to look at her. ‘Now, you need to go get cleaned up. I’ve got your favourite food set up for dinner.’

              Her eyes had regained that certain sparkle Dedrick loved, and had recently missed most of all. ‘Really? You found some of it then? Fresh?’

              ‘Of course… you know me. Fresh lamb’s meat from the east, untouched by cloning magic – it’s a genuine cut.’

              Evie clapped her hands eagerly, a kid-like essence about her as she bounced. ‘You’re the best, you know that?’ She didn’t wait for a reply before kissing him on the cheek and skittering off with a couple of the women towards the washroom. The door clicked behind them.

              Dedrick folded his arms and looked at the three of his men that remained in the meeting room, all of them warmed by a freshly stoked fire. ‘So, what are the casualties from the mission?’

              The middle man produced a piece of parchment and unfurled it, his gloomy eyes skimming the list on it. ‘We lost about two dozen men and women in that skirmish, Dedrick. Scouts made sure our forces weren’t tracked, and as far as we know no-one is unaccounted for.’ He looked up. ‘Things look OK.’

              Dedrick coughed and then began to hum, his voice a low crackle in his chest. ‘Two dozen is more than I’d anticipated.’ The popping of the fire grew more noticeable as he took a seat next to it and grabbed one of the bottles of wine that had been placed on the table for means of celebration.

              A knock came at the door.

              ‘What is it?’ Dedrick called out with disdain.

              One of his scouts, dressed in a black outfit with dark brown and green streaks across it, entered with a bewildered look on his face.

              ‘What the heck’s wrong with you?’ asked one of Dedrick’s men as they all turned to look at him.

              Dedrick looked up and took a long swig of the red wine before setting it down on the table. ‘What bad news have you brought me as well?’ His aching body levered itself up to a standing position. ‘Out with it.’

              The scout gawped for a moment then composed himself. ‘I came across a familiar face whilst making sure the last of our people was escaping safely.’

              ‘Explain yourself, man.’ Dedrick picked up the bottle again.

              ‘He just came out of nowhere, and it didn’t help that he was being chased by a couple of the Donnol guards either. I took them out from a distance; made sure there were no trackers nearby. He said he took on four and killed three of them… he let the fourth one live.’

              ‘Fuck’s sake, get to the point will ya?’ The old man swigged the wine again.

              ‘It was the trader; he’s outside now waiting to see you.’

              For a brief moment Dedrick’s heart stopped and moved up into his throat. He resumed his drink, this time making it last a lot longer than his previous ones. He wiped his mouth clear of the red liquid and then slammed the bottle onto the table. ‘That little bastard survived did he? Show him in then.’

***

‘What is it that you are supposed to be fighting against? Fighting for?’ Mikos seemed to have something else in mind; or even something on his mind.

              Dedrick assessed him as he sat across the table, the two of them being the only ones in the meeting room an hour after the trader’s return. ‘Why are you asking me such a question? I thought you didn’t care about anything except your image.’

              ‘Image is always a top priority with a trader, but when things in the world are going to go belly-up, then it’s everyone’s problem.’ He shifted in his chair. ‘So what are you fighting for?’

              ‘Fighting against the corruption in this fair city of ours.’

              ‘There’s corruption everywhere in the world; it’s something more than that, isn’t it, Mr Ranliss?’

              ‘And why would you think that then?’ He took a drink.

              Mikos sized up Dedrick’s reaction as if they were playing a game of poker. ‘I can tell by the look in your eyes, the way you talk, and by the way you are with your niece.’

              Dedrick’s eyes suddenly flared up. ‘What the fuck do you think you know about me and my niece, trader boy?’

              ‘I have a name you know.’

              ‘OK, fine… Mr Valdera.’

              ‘You care for her quite a lot, as if she were your own daughter. I’m betting that you feel responsible for her for some reason. What happened to her parents?’

              ‘Why am I even talking to you about this?’ Dedrick growled before standing up, the bottle of alcohol in his hand.

              ‘Ah so that’s it, isn’t it? Dead.’

              The bottle in Dedrick’s hand flew across the table, narrowly missing Mikos’s head. ‘One more word and you’ll end up the same way, you little shit.’

              Mikos stood up, a similar fire in his face. ‘Murdered. Is this entire fight for revenge? Is that it?’

              ‘Her mother disappeared, and her dad and brother were beaten to death… now shut the fuck up.’ Dedrick slammed his fists onto the table and suddenly descended into a fit of coughing, his face turning a shade of reddish-purple. ‘Damn it,’ he spluttered.

              ‘You know if you keep up this drinking you won’t be around much longer to be responsible for her, or this fight of yours.’

              A pair of worn eyes looked up at him, an abrupt sense of realisation in them. ‘Don’t you think I know that? The doctors around Donnol suck anyway.’

              After walking around to the same side of the table, Mikos helped Dedrick lift himself back onto the chair. ‘Now instead of this mask of hurt and aggression, how about a frank and honest conversation instead?’

              Dedrick scoffed. ‘With someone I consider an enemy?’

              ‘Enemy? Because of what happened back in the marketplace with your niece?’

              He looked up at him with a scornful stare.

              ‘That was a bloody accident – she tumbled into me at such a speed I didn’t have a clue what the heck was going on. How was I to know she was being chased by the guards?’

              ‘You still got her into trouble.’

              ‘Now hold a second,’ Mikos snapped. ‘Any trouble she was in was not my fault… as I’ve said before – I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

              ‘Just sit the fuck down and stop standing over me; you ain’t my nursemaid.’ He went to pick up the bottle, but then retracted his hand. ‘Bollocks.’

              Mikos took his seat and then folded his hands across his waist, leaning back. ‘What is it you’re ultimately trying to achieve?’

              Dedrick hummed hoarsely and gazed at the wall. ‘Something is going on in the Donnol government, and it’s been growing worse over the past six or seven years.’ He turned his attentions back to Mikos. ‘Did you not wonder how I was able to spread that shit about you and the slave trading?’

              ‘I assumed you had a reputation in the criminal networks, or something like that,’ Mikos replied casually.

              ‘Well I do these days. I saw first-hand how the government’s MPs changed their ways of thinking – unnecessary executions, distribution of forces and supplies, international policies… and the rest.’

              ‘First-hand?’

              Dedrick nodded slowly, his eyes turning to the table top. ‘Dedrick Ranliss, MP of Donnol north side – that was once my title until my decision to leave.’

              Mikos took in the information calmly. ‘But why did you go underground and start this fight against your former employers?’

              ‘It wasn’t my immediate choice, until they came after me one night a few weeks after I’d resigned. I think they were mercenary assassins, but I knew exactly who bloody hired them. Luckily I wasn’t at home when they came along, but they burned the place down regardless.’

              ‘Where were you?’

              ‘With Orlanna at her house. I didn’t know about what’d happened until the next morning when I went back home and found nothing but a burnt mess.’ His eyes drooped and closed, his chest heaved slowly. ‘My immediate fears from that moment were…’

              ‘Her parents?’

Dedrick shook his head. ‘Her mother disappeared, and her father was killed in some stupid street brawl.’

              ‘So… they went to go after her?’

              Dedrick nodded.

              ‘Where was your niece when this happened then if not at your house?’

              A small chuckle. ‘Oh, when she was just a young sprog she was an absolute devil for sneaking out of the house at night and going for an adventure around the city… had her mum and dad in bits half the time when she was much younger. I was usually the one who had to find her before she hurt herself or got into trouble.

              ‘I found her sobbing in an alleyway nearby – she thought I’d been killed in the fire. You wouldn’t believe the relief I saw in her eyes when she saw me.’

              Mikos clasped his hands and leaned on the table, his face paling slightly. ‘I am so sorry, Mr Ranliss. Were you the only MP to leave the government?’

              ‘I wasn’t the only one, no. After all this happened, I immediately sought out the other members of parliament to try and save them.’ He paused and sighed longingly. ‘Out of 14 of my colleagues I managed to save three before the assassins killed them. Three innocent lives out of 14, so… how does fate work that one out?’

              Mikos lowered his head and shook it gently. ‘Fate works in cruel ways. The gods pull the tiniest strings, and it all comes down in moments.’

              ‘Are you a religious man then…’ Dedrick moistened his lips. ‘… Mr Valdera?’

              For a moment there was a sense of acceptance from across the table, Dedrick’s face creasing a little from a distant smile. Mikos sat back and looked thoughtful. ‘I like to think that there are higher powers that can help us when we need them. Things work out for a reason, and I’m not one to question them.’

              ‘So you believe in fate?’

              ‘I do, yes.’

              ‘Yet you brought all those correspondence to me yesterday that had the information about a dead and buried race that these big wigs are fighting against?’

              Mikos did a double take. ‘Ah, so you read them did you? I thought you just dismissed them as trash and didn’t even bother to skim them?’

              Dedrick straightened up in his chair and rocked his head from side to side, another sly smirk on his unshaven face. ‘I browsed it briefly. I expected a pile o’ shit, but what I found was just confusing to say the least.’

              ‘I sense another ‘but’ coming into this.’

              Dedrick sighed softly. ‘But it isn’t something I would look into to be honest with you. It proves that people have truly lost it if they believe any of that.’

              Mikos paused for a second before getting up from his chair. ‘Oh well… suppose it isn’t that much of an issue. I mean, how concrete can it be?’

              ‘Here.’ Dedrick tossed him the envelopes. ‘Take ‘em with you. Go home and let’s hope our paths never cross again.’

              Mikos laughed as he pocketed the papers. ‘Amen to that one.’

Chapter 13

‘Things will be changing around here if our Providence leader wants the effects to be more powerful, lady Slorin.’

              These were words that she did not like one bit. What was wrong with the way she did things already? Vicana swallowed her pride and nodded silently, trying to hide the pained annoyance in the confines of her features. This high mage, a young-ish man simply called Blaigen, had arrived less than an hour ago and was already giving the orders to change things as if he was the one in charge.

              He removed his purple and red cowl and let his long white hair fall around his shoulders like a curtain. ‘You don’t like the ideas that the Providence has come up with?’ he asked in a sickeningly smooth voice.

              Vicana felt her skin crawl as his words reverberated in her ears. She shook herself inside violently. ‘I’m not saying that, Blaigen.’

              He coughed with disgust. ‘
Lord
Blaigen, please.’

              ‘Oh sorry…
Lord
Blaigen, I have no quarrel with the Providence and their decisions. I mean, after all, they are the enlightened ones. We, as mere mages, don’t have their superior sense of intellect and being.’

              Blaigen smiled, his mouth lengthening to nearly the width of his whole face. ‘Good. The last high mage to question their collective decision was never found again.’