Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) (36 page)

Lad’s face remained neutral, emotionless.  “As you
say, Grandmaster, I was created with particular restrictions, but I…freed
myself to a certain degree.  I do feel fear, though not, perhaps, as most
people do.”

“Which is why you weren’t my first choice for
guildmaster.” He turned to Mya.  “Your Master Hunter understands fear.  Don’t
you, Mya?”

“Perfectly, Grandmaster.” She nodded respectfully,
keeping her gaze averted.

His eyes flicked back to Lad.  “Which brings up the
question of
why
, exactly, you wear the guildmaster’s ring.”

“At the time, it seemed the prudent thing to do,
Grandmaster.”  Lad looked down at his plate, his countenance clouding over. 
“My…wife had just been murdered, and in my state of mind, I thought only that
if I wielded the Twailin guild, I could find her killer.”

“And how is that going for you?”

Mya snapped her eyes to the Grandmaster’s, but he
was staring at Lad.  His tone suggested derision or amusement rather than true
concern. 
He knows something
, she realized, and her blood ran cold.

“Not well.”  Lad nonchalantly picked up his wine and
sipped, raising his head to stare into the Grandmaster’s eyes.

Don’t
!  Mya willed Lad to hear her
silent plea. 
Don’t go there, Lad
! 
Please
!

“I know who the killer is, a thief named Kiesha, but
I can’t find her.  She was somehow connected with Baron Patino, whom, correct
me if I’m wrong, you contracted to secure Mya’s and my safety until she could
assume the guildmaster position.”

The Grandmaster stared right back at Lad.  “That is
correct.”

“So, you killed Patino to break the connection
between the emperor and the guild.”

“Also correct.”

“Did you order Kiesha to assassinate my wife?”

“I did not.”

That’s enough
! Mya downed her wine in one
gulp. 
Time to stop this before it goes too far
.

Lad’s shoulders slumped, his trembling hand rippling
the wine in his goblet.  The Grandmaster’s words hung in the air: simple,
straightforward, and devastating.  Another dead end.  Lad put his goblet down
so he wouldn’t spill the wine, and raised his eyes once again to the Grandmaster’s
face. 

Was he telling the truth
?  The man’s expression gave away
nothing, but Lad didn’t expect it to.  Tynean Tsing had lived with secret dual
identities most of his life.  He could probably lie without the slightest
outward sign.

Mya cleared her throat and spoke up.  “If I may,
Grandmaster, I’d like to propose a solution to our apparent dilemma.”

“Our dilemma?”  The Grandmaster looked at her
curiously.  “Please, enlighten me as to what dilemma you think we have.”

“At the risk of incurring the displeasure of my
guildmaster,” she glanced at Lad, “I must say, and I think you’ll agree, that
Lad’s not well suited to his new position.”

Lad glared at Mya, secretly impressed with her calm
delivery.  Her voice held a tremor of fear, which would placate the Grandmaster,
and her tone was clear and precise.  Best of all, her body language remained
mute: no brushing her hair behind her ear, no rubbing her nose or clicking her
fingernails.

He shook off his disappointment, and resolved to
continue their plan.  “For not being well
suited
, I’ve increased guild
profits in less than a month!”

“Yes, by instituting practices that I perfected over
the last five years.”  Mya turned to present her case to Tynean Tsing. 
“Grandmaster, while Lad makes a mediocre guildmaster, he remains a superb
weapon.  His skills in combat are unmatched and, as you can see, he looks
harmless.  While he certainly kills like an assassin, he doesn’t necessarily
think
like one.”

“That is clear.”  The Grandmaster’s eyes snapped
back and forth between them.  “State your proposal, Mya.”

“Your original intention was to make me Twailin’s
guildmaster.  You have the ability to grant your own wish.  Take Lad’s ring and
give it to me.  He can return to his position as my bodyguard and personal
weapon, to be employed as he was designed for the best interests of the guild,”
she paused and shifted her eyes to Lad’s, “instead of his own.”

Mya’s cool, confident gaze startled Lad. 
She’s
just following the plan
. 
She’s not really intending to enslave me.  She
wouldn’t
.  But doubt remained.  He was so used to reading her tells, and
now there were none.

“Interesting…”  The Grandmaster’s slow smile sent a
shiver up Lad’s spine.  “I’ll consider this proposal under two conditions,
Mya.”

“It’s not my place to barter, Grandmaster.”  Mya
looked mildly horrified.  “My life is yours to spend.  You can command me as
you wish.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.”  The smile
broadened, and Lad’s worry with it.  “First, you will reinstitute standard
guild practices with regard to protection racketeering, extortion, and
intimidation in Twailin.”

Horror gripped Lad’s stomach like a vise. 
Would
she actually do that
?  The devil’s advocate in the back of his mind
whispered,
Of course she would.  How could she not do as he commands
?

Mya tilted her head quizzically.  “Of course, Grandmaster,
if you command it, but may I ask why?  Profits are up significantly, and our
competition is foundering.  The new system is more productive.”

“We’ll get to
why
in a moment.”  The
Grandmaster’s eyes shifted to Lad.  “The next condition is that you, Lad, sign
a blood contract.  Saliez was remiss in not insisting on that from the start. 
Without the guildmaster’s ring, you’re too dangerous to be without some kind of
control.”

Lad stifled his impulsive response.  There was only
one answer he could possibly give, considering the five blademasters in the
room.  “If you so command, Grandmaster.”  He bowed his head in deference,
worried that his eyes would reveal his defiance.  He had absolutely no
intention of signing a blood contract.  If he did, he would be nothing more
than a slave again.  He would never be a father, never have a family.

“Good.”  The Grandmaster dropped his napkin onto his
plate and stood.  “Come with me.”

Lad stood, and Mya followed suit.  Though she
briefly met his glance as they rounded the table, she remained unreadable,
immediately averting her eyes.  Was she betraying him?  Had her plan been a
deception from the start?  Lad hadn’t thought of the blood contract, but Mya
certainly would have.

They filed out of the room, the emperor and three of
his blademasters at the fore, then Lad and Mya followed by two more, and
lastly, Hoseph.  The hairs prickled on the back of Lad’s neck with the priestly
assassin behind him.  Hoseph seemed an enigma: more than just an intermediary,
and certainly more than just a killer.  But Lad couldn’t worry about him right
now.  He had to concentrate on the Grandmaster…and Mya.

Lad glanced sidelong at her, wishing he could read
her mind.  She kept her eyes steadfastly ahead, her hands relaxed at her
sides.  No tells, no evasions, and no clue about her motives.

The Grandmaster spoke as they walked.  “The primary
flaw in your new practices, Mya, is that you fail to understand the true
mission of the Assassins Guild.  I consider that partially my fault for letting
the Twailin guild go so long without a guildmaster.  As a mere master, you had
no comprehension of our mission, so your error is forgivable.”

“Thank you for understanding, Grandmaster.”

Lad chilled to realize that he seemed to be suddenly
out of the loop of communication.  He might still wear the guildmaster’s ring,
but he had essentially been dismissed.

The Grandmaster stopped at a large double door and
worked a key in the lock.  Fetid air wafted out as two of the blademasters
pulled open the doors.  The lighting here was poorer, oil lamps guttering low,
but Lad didn’t need it to make out the barred cells that lined the corridor. 
Urine-soaked straw, stale sweat, and overflowing chamber pots explained the
stench.

“The true mission of the Assassins Guild is
control.”  The Grandmaster gestured to the cells as they passed.  “Much as the
empire controls the populace with laws, the Assassins Guild controls it with
fear.”

  Sallow faces met Lad’s gaze from within the cells. 
He wondered why the Grandmaster spoke so freely about the guild in front of the
prisoners, until he realized,
Their lives are already spent
.  None of
these people would ever leave this place.  But unlike the servants, these had
no apparent use. 
Why keep them alive at all
?

The Grandmaster’s voice droned on.  “I’m sure that
you
,
Mya, can understand how the interplay of the guild and the empire enhance the
efficacy of both.”

“I understand perfectly, Grandmaster.”  Mya did look
at Lad then, and her eyes regarded him without a hint of the emotion or
sincerity she’d previously shown.  “It’s an elegant system.”

“Thank you.”

“But what about profits, Grandmaster?  They’ll fall
if we revert to the old system.”

“Profits are secondary to control, Mya.  The Assassins
Guild is not a public service enterprise.  It is my weapon, much as Lad was
Saliez’s weapon.”  Another pair of even larger double doors came into view,
these with an intricate dual locking system.  The Grandmaster produced two keys
and gestured.  “Hoseph, if you please.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”  The priest strode forward and
took the proffered key.  He and the Grandmaster turned the keys in the two
locks, and a heavy mechanism clicked.

With neither the Grandmaster nor Mya granting him a
glance, Lad wondered if he might just walk away.  Of course, the blademasters
wouldn’t allow him to retreat until permission had been granted by their
master, and he wouldn’t do that until Lad signed a blood contract.  He was
trapped.

The Grandmaster slipped the keys back into his
pocket and looked earnestly at the Mya.  “Money is nothing but another form of control,
Mya.  Guild profits are necessary to provide incentive to our members.  To me,
they are insignificant.  Imperial taxes bring in more revenue in a single month
than the Assassins Guild does in ten years.  The guild’s sole purpose is
control: control through fear.  Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Mya said.

“You
think
you do.”  The Grandmaster’s thin
smile held all the warmth of a glacier.  “Very soon, you will.”

T
ynean
Tsing gestured two blademasters forward while continuing his speech.

“Control is achieved through discipline.  When you
give an order or make an offer for
advancement
…” The Grandmaster’s eyes
flashed to hers, and Mya’s heart froze for a moment.  “…you must make sure you
are obeyed.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”  Despite her apprehension, Mya
marveled at the elegance of the scheme.  Controlling the empire both legally
and illegally was an unsurpassed coup.   She had spent her entire life seeking
power as a way to escape fear.  Now the Grandmaster was declaring that fear was
a
means
to power.  It made a perverted kind of sense. 
And you’d
better get used to it.  This is your future, Mya.  Your only future
…

“And when you are not obeyed…”

The blademasters grasped the great bronze rings that
hung from the doors and pulled.  As the heavy doors swung smoothly outward, the
already rank air was defiled by a thick metallic tang so strong that Mya gagged. 
Lad’s shocked gasp breached her disgust, and she looked into the room.

Oh, dear gods
.

“…you must deliver punishment.”  The Grandmaster
strode forward, and they followed into the wide, low-ceilinged room. “Here is
where you will learn the true meaning of control.” 

A massive stone pillar centered the circular
chamber.  To the left and right, lining the curved outer wall, stood various
devices with no use other than to deliver agony. 
A circle of pain
…  Mya
recognized many of the devices from those in the Grandfather’s basement.  Over
here lay a rack, the gears gleaming and the great wheel well polished.  Over
there stood a set of stocks, similar to those in the Imperial Plaza, except
that the inner edges of the neck and wrist restraints were studded with nails. 
Right next to her, a solid wooden chair was firmly fastened to the floor, the
stout arms tipped with vices that could crush fingers.

Mya swallowed bile as she recalled Saliez’s
delighted recital of the many ways one could inflict pain without quite
killing.

Like a professor lecturing a favored student, the
Grandmaster continued to speak as he strolled around the inner pillar.  “In my
early years of training, I discovered a talent for inquisition.  Although my
imperial duties keep me busier than I want, I make time to come down here and practice
my skills.  Training in inquisition will be useful to you, Mya.  I cast no
aspersions on your expertise as a Hunter, but inquisition is your means of
punishment, your control, and control is key.”

Mya struggled to maintain her composure, clenching
her hands in an effort to control her body language.  She couldn’t afford to
let the Grandfather discern her true reaction to this ghastly place.

 “Norwood!”

Lad’s exclamation froze Mya in her tracks.  His face
shone pale, the muscles of his jaw bunched.  She followed his gaze, and wished
she hadn’t.

The captain of the Twailin Royal Guard hung in an
iron cage, his wrists manacled over his head.  Sharpened screws threaded
through the bars had pierced his body at hips, knees, and feet.  Norwood’s
skull was pinned in place by four iron rods, also sharpened and screwed down
tight.  Blood seeped from the wounds and puddled on the floor beneath the
cage.  His eyes were closed, but Mya could still detect the shallow rise and
fall of his chest.  He was unconscious, but alive.

The Grandmaster looked mildly amused. “Needless to
say, Lad, Captain Norwood will no longer function as your informant.  I hope,
however, that he will provide me with information on his investigation into
Baron Patino’s death.”  The Grandmaster shot a sour look at Hoseph, then turned
his attention to Mya.  “I’m sure he could also provide insight into the Twailin
Royal Guard, which would undoubtedly benefit your future operations, Mya. 
Perhaps you’d like to aid in the inquisition.” 

“I…”  Mya’s stomach clenched on the few sips of wine
and bites of food she’d taken, and she looked away.  The view in the other
direction, however, was no better.  “Dear Gods of Light…” 

Hidden until now behind the massive pillar, six
waist-high stone slabs stood like the spokes of a huge wheel.  Each was grooved
and canted to drain into a central iron grating in the floor.  Atop one Mya
saw…herself, bleeding and torn as the Grandfather had once displayed her,
strapped down, skin flayed from flesh.  Mya clenched her eyes and choked back
vomit. 
Not me
… 
Not real
…  When she opened them again, she
realized that she was both wrong and right.  It wasn’t her, but it was all too
real, and worse than she could ever have imagined.

The Grandmaster chuckled.  “Let me assure you, Mya,
the Gods had nothing to do with what you see here.”  He strolled over to the
slab.  “I had originally intended this to be a gift to my newest guildmaster,
but, since I intend to accept Mya’s proposal, think of it as a last concession
before you relinquish your position, Lad.”

Tynean Tsing plucked a glistening steel hook from a
tray beside the slab and gestured them over, waiting until they stood beside
the wreckage of what had once been a human being.  “Let it also be a reminder
that this is the consequence of insubordination.  I have spies everywhere, both
within and outside the guild. 
This
is control.”

Positioning the hook in muscle, the Grandmaster
pulled his victim’s bleeding face toward him.  To Mya’s horror, bloody lips
gasped for breath, a thin mew of agony issuing from a ravaged throat.  The
mutilation had been very carefully performed to keep the victim alive.  Mya
wondered if this poor soul was still sane…and thought not.  She could almost feel
the Grandfather’s knives once more parting her own flesh.

Never again
!

“Who…is she?” 

Lad’s voice, so contorted by disgust, snapped Mya
from her morbid musing.  
She
?  Now she noted the spare patches of blond
hair, the delicate hands twisted and broken, the small, dainty feet scorched by
live coals.  It was indeed a woman.

“Why, Kiesha, of course!  The woman who killed your
dear Wiggen.”

 
He tortured her for…what
?  
Punishment,
information, entertainment
?  Suddenly Mya’s mind leapt ahead.  If Kiesha
had killed Wiggen at the Fiveway Fountains battle, had watched Lad and Mya
fight, how much had she seen of Mya’s abilities, her magic, her secrets. 
And
how much did she tell the Grandmaster
?  Did he know Mya was a monster?

Lad stepped forward and stood beside the slab,
gazing down at the mutilated woman.  “Why would you
do
this?”

The utter revulsion in Lad’s voice drew every eye in
the room.

 “As an example.”  The Grandmaster’s lips curled
back in contempt.  “When Kiesha learned that your wife wore the guildmaster’s
ring, she should have brought the information to me.  Instead, she took the
initiative and murdered your wife.  There were other solutions that could have
been employed without earning your enmity.  She then went to Baron Patino,
risking exposure of my dual identity.  She cost me much, and she has paid the
price.  Perhaps you should heed the lesson.”

“You think this will make me fear you.”  Lad’s words
weren’t a question, but an accusation.  “You think this will make me
obey
you.”

Mya gaped at him. 
He’s mad
! 
The
Grandmaster will kill him for that.  He’ll strap Lad down and flay him alive,
and I’ll have to stand here and watch it
.  She opened her mouth to explain,
to intervene, but another glance at Kiesha kicked in her innate sense of
self-preservation. 
I can’t save him.  If I try, I’ll die here
,
too
…
or
worse
.  She edged back, feeling exposed in the wide-open area between the
slabs and the central pillar.  Thankfully, the blademasters paid her no mind,
assuming defensive positions around their master.

“I hoped it might, but I see you still don’t
understand.”  The Grandmaster ran a fingernail down an exposed nerve in
Kiesha’s ravaged arm.  The woman’s raw, inarticulate wail of agony shivered up
Mya’s spine.  “
This
is the path to control.”

“Stop it!”  Lad’s shout echoed off the walls.  He
stumbled back from the slab, horror and disgust twisting his features.

The Grandmaster turned with murder in his narrowed
eyes.  “That
almost
sounded like a command.  I see that you’re in need of
this lesson if you’re going to be of any use to me at all.  Take care that you
don’t displease me as Kiesha did.”  His eyes flicked to Mya, and his lips
thinned in a razor-slash smile.  “Mya understands, don’t you?”

“I understand, Grandmaster.”  Mya curtsied deeply. 
It sickened her, but there was no way she could tell the man who owned her life
that he was a sadistic pig.  Her eyes flicked up to Lad’s.  She willed him to
follow her lead, to kowtow and escape, to sign anything,
do
anything, to
survive. 
Think, Lad
! 
Think like an assassin
!

“Yes, I believe you do.  You were greatly prized by
Saliez for both your mind and your obedience.  That, along with your recent
successes as Master Hunter, are why I offered you the Twailin guildmaster
position.”  Tynean Tsing gestured, and his blademasters flanked Lad.  “Saliez
understood my methods.  He was using them to send Duke Mir running into my arms
for help.  With my magistrates and soldiers to institute my edicts, the city
would have been fully incorporated into my system of control.”  The razor smile
returned.  “That was the reason you were created, Lad; to be used as a weapon,
to grant me control through fear.  That is your
only
function.”

The tendons in Lad’s neck tensed, and Mya cringed.

“All those murders…”  Lad’s voice quivered with
rage.  “It wasn’t
about
trade restrictions or pressuring the Thieves
Guild out of drug trafficking at all…”

“Of course not!  It was, and always will be about
control,
my
control.”  The Grandmaster snapped his fingers.  “Hoseph! 
The contract.”

The priest drew a rolled piece of vellum from
beneath his robes.  Mya recognized it immediately.  She’d signed one herself. 
The vellum was cured human skin, the script embossed on its surface imbued with
rune magic.  Once signed in blood, the spell would bind the signatory to the
guild for life, rendering escape and rebellion impossible.  Things had come
full circle.  If Lad signed, he would become nothing but a weapon once again.

“This is the only way you’ll walk out of this room,
Lad.”  The Grandmaster drew a gleaming kris from his embroidered robes and held
the tip under Lad’s nose.  “Prick your finger and sign.”

Lad looked down at the document, then at the blademasters
surrounding him.

Sign it
! Mya thought.  He had no hope of
besting them, not five.  And even if he did, he still couldn’t touch the
Grandmaster.  There was no way out.

“Bide,” she whispered for his ears only.  His eyes
flicked toward her, then back to the Grandmaster.  “Lissa,” she whispered. 
“Think of Lissa.”

That hit him hard.

Clenching his jaw so tightly she thought his teeth
might shatter, Lad looked toward Mya, and she quailed.  Madness lurked behind
those twin chips of mica.  He would die before he became a slave again.

I can’t let him die
.

“Sign it!”  Mya stepped forward, closer, but still
outside the ring of blademasters.  “It won’t change a thing, Lad.  I’ll be your
master as I was before.”

“Listen to her, boy.  I’ll make her guildmaster, and
she’ll wield you.  I need your expertise in Twailin if I’m ever going to get
Mir to capitulate.”  The Grandmaster thrust the kris forward, almost pricking
Lad’s nose with the tip.  “Sign it or die!”

Lad took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a
moment, then opened them and looked right into Mya’s soul.

He’s mad
…

“I’m sorry, Mya.”  He shook his head and pushed
aside the blood contract.  “No.  I won’t sign it.”

They’ll kill him
!  A pit opened in Mya’s soul, a
swirling void that swallowed her fear.  She couldn’t let them kill Lad, but she
knew better than to think that they could win.  They couldn’t kill the
Grandmaster.  They might escape, but he’d hunt them down. 
Think
! 
Think
like an assassin
.  She needed some advantage, some trick, but if Kiesha had
told the Grandmaster Mya’s secrets, she had nothing.