Taunting the Devil (The Bastard Cadre Book 5) Read online

  Something else occurred to him, and he now realized the Charoon Ambassador was playing games. He was not in Peak City, as Obdurin had hoped, to arrange peace, but to understand Obdurin by placing one scenario after another in front of him and then studying his reactions. Obdurin smiled. In the morning the Ambassador would find the game had shifted.

  Obdurin opened his eyes to look at Cherry. He thought he owed her his gratitude for putting this scenario in front of him, though he knew he could never say as much, but Cherry and Rhysin’s realm were gone.

  From across the room, Sunder examined him with his head tilted to one side. Obdurin stifled a laugh at the dimin’s perplexed expression and bounced to his feet, eager to get to work.

  2

  The Condemned

  492nd year of the True Gods

  2 years after the Cleansing

  The healer’s instruments clinked as she stowed them in her bag.

  From his stool in the corner of the dark cell, Valan had watched the matronly healer for almost an hour as she worked on the prisoner. She finally stepped back from the stone bench and her unmoving patient.

  “I’ve done all I can, Amir. If they let you rest you’ll be whole again.”

  She turned an angry, disapproving frown on Valan. This was the first time she’d acknowledged his presence, though for as long as Valan had been present, she’d maintained a one-sided conversation with her patient criticizing whoever had put him in this cell.

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  Talking still hurt from the beating Ethan Godkin had given him earlier that day, but Valan cut her off. “Are you finished?”

  “Aye, I’m finished. Really finished.”

  The man on the stone bench still hadn’t moved, but his breath no longer rasped in his chest.

  Valan met the healer’s gaze and waited. She’d worked with her back to him, despite there being enough room to work on either side of the bench. At first, Valan had been amused by her audacity, but now he was irritated by her. He’d left Turintar to come straight to this cell, and this woman was holding him up with her petulance.

  “Don’t call me back here. I healed him not ten hours ago, and now I’ve done it again, but I won’t come back a third time. I don’t care what this man did. If he’s to be executed, execute him, but torturing him and healing him only to torture him again,” the woman straightened her clothes then banged on the cell door. “Well, I won’t have any more to do with it.”

  “I’ll let Lord Rarick know that you’ve tendered your resignation,” Valan said.

  The healer stiffened, then snapped, “You do that, but be quick because I won’t be here much longer.”

  The door banged behind her, and Valan gave a small, bemused shake of his head, wondering, What does she hope to achieve?

  Even now, he imagined her lumbering along the passage away from this cell, wondering if she’d have time to collect her things before Rarick sent bondsan for her. Idiotic, Valan thought and put the woman out of his mind.

  The man on the bench, his breathing almost relaxed now, whispered something.

  Valan rose from his stool. The nanos in his body had almost repaired the break in his right leg, but his injuries from his fight with Ethan still gave him pain. He dragged the stool across the cell and set it down next to the stone bench.

  Valan said, “Speak up.”

  Louder this time, Amir said, “Bastard. She’s right. You should let me die.”

  “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have made it into this cell, but it isn’t up to me, and I think you know Lord Rarick better than that. Besides, what did you expect to happen?’’ Silently Valan thought, What is it today? I’m surrounded by fools who think being angry will change things.

  “If I’d succeeded, I’d be the Lord of Damar now, and you’d be serving me,” Amir said.

  “With as much vigor and loyalty as I serve Lord Rarick,” Valan said.

  Amir turned his head gingerly to look at Valan. He winced in anticipation of the expected pain, but then his expression cleared as he realized there was no pain. A good healer would have been more thorough, and Amir would have known to his core that he was whole again.

  Wasted talent. Valan was mildly disgusted that anybody could make a career from a talent and not master it. That or she doesn’t want to waste her energy healing a dead man.

  “What game is this?” Amir asked.

  “No game, Amir. I just want to know who you were working with.” Valan lowered himself onto the stool with his splinted leg stretched out before him.

  Amir frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “Lord Marlan of Turintar paid me to deliver a message to Lord Rarick. He told me about the tunnels under the citadel so I could do it without being seen, but I decided to kill Rarick instead.”

  “Who were you working with? Who on Lord Rarick’s staff betrayed him?” Valan resisted the urge to glance at either of the black spherical cameras in opposite corners of the cell. Let’s see how much he knows. If he knows the names of Rarick’s people, he’ll give me a name.

  Amir’s eyes widened slightly at the question.

  Valan knew Rarick was watching the interrogation and that the suggestion somebody close to him could betray him would whip his paranoia into a frenzy.

  “Was it one of Lord Rarick’s cadres?” Valan continued, delighting in the mischief he was causing.

  Amir’s mouth dropped open betraying his surprise. “You’re insane.”

  No, but the idea might send Rarick completely over the edge.

  Valan had not reported to Rarick in person since arriving back in Damar’s capital, though he’d sent the Lord news of their failure in Turintar and Warwick’s death. Valan needed to time his report perfectly for his plans to work. The healer’s slow work had irritated him, even though it worked in his favor.

  “Who were you working with? Who betrayed Lord Rarick?” Valan asked.

  Regaining his composure, Amir said, “It was you.”

  “Amusing,” Valan said. The bastard is quick. His pulse jumped, but he knew there was no way Amir could know it really was Valan’s hand that had guided him to make the attempt on Rarick’s life.

  “It was you and that woman,” Amir said.

  “Which woman?”

  “Rarick’s sister.”

  Valan forced himself to wait for a second, and thought, He might beat me at my own game. He asked, “How do you know about Lord Rarick’s sister?”

  “She used to come to me at night. We fucked like animals, and all the time she whispered sweet words of treachery and betrayal. It’s her fault I’m here, without her I never would have thought about killing Lord Rarick.”

  Does he know about Lilly and me? Or is this just a particularly unfortunate wrench he’s throwing into the works?

  Valan could imagine Rarick summoning his sister and beating her bloody based solely on Amir’s words. He had to act quickly. “When did you first meet Shail d’Ardel?”

  “Last summer. I was betting at one of the fighting pits when I noticed her in the shadows. She was covered up good like she didn’t want anybody to see her, but I saw her, the blood-thirsty bitch. I bought her a drink, and we got right to it. I think the killing turned her on. It was good after a night at—“

  Valan cut him off, “Lord Rarick’s sister isn’t called Shail. If there is a woman involved, it’s not Lord Rarick’s sister.”

  “She used a fake name, but I knew who she was,” Amir said.

  Valan wanted to curse, but he told himself, It will have to do. If Rarick thinks I care, the results will be the same. Valan asked, “Who are you working with?”

  “Lord Darsoon Chi’Mason Chosen of Til gave me a box full of tiny assassin drones. They look like robotic spiders. I’ve already released them. They should find Rarick soon. They’re all over this place. Self-replicating, there’s probably thousands of them by now. They’re impossible to get rid of. Some of them burrow into the walls and lay dormant as long as they’re receiving si
gnals from active drones. If all the active drones go dark, they replicate and try again.”

  Valan had met men like Amir before, no matter the danger to themselves or how dire their situation they just kept pushing. Valan suspected even if Amir wanted to, he’d be incapable of providing a straight answer.

  “These games will do you no good. The longer you resist, the longer Lord Rarick will keep you here, taking you to the brink of death then bringing you back. How did you plan to kill Lord Rarick?”

  “I got some airborne nanos to two of his cadre’s barracks. Lord Duman of Mawtar told me the nanos take two weeks to activate, but when they do, they will turn Rarick’s cadres into mindless Cleansed who are driven to destroy him.”

  He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows what his words will do to Rarick’s state of mind, Valan thought.

  “You’re not going to leave this cell alive,” Valan said. “Even if you stop spinning these fantasies you will never see the sister suns again; however, if you tell me the truth, it will go easier for you. I can ask Lord Rarick for mercy if you tell me the truth.”

  Amir was silent for a moment. “Okay, mercy you say? I’ll tell you.” Amir sighed dramatically. “The other Lords of Newterra have formed a coalition against Lord Rarick. Incredible but true, I guess they all hate him enough to tolerate working together, at least until they succeed in replacing him, no doubt they will turn on another member of their cabal once he’s gone. I am the first assassin they’ve sent, but they will keep sending others until one of us is successful and kills Lord Rarick. They’ve recruited his brother Warwick to take Maiten’s heart and replace him.”

  And to think I wanted to introduce paranoid fantasies to Rarick. This is going to cause problems. He asked, “How did you plan to kill Lord Rarick?”

  “I’m a dualist. I can transform into a grith.”

  “Enough!” Valan snapped. Is there any truth in any of this? Is he being clever, hiding the truth in plain sight?

  Valan took a long steadying breath for the sake of the cameras. On with the show.

  “What did you do before the Cleansing?”

  Amir grinned. “I was a test pilot for the Excalibur III program. I was training for a deep space mission to find Earth.”

  “I was here,” Valan said. “I’ve been here for eight years serving Lord Rarick. Where were you before the Cleansing?”

  Amir started to answer, but Valan cut him off. “No, don’t answer.” He made a show of considering something then said, “There aren’t many places in Newterra you could have been to survive. The Cleansing was fairly thorough; people survived in the capital cities, a few coastal towns, and one or two other places.”

  “I come from the Dragonlands. Sah Pitan has been reborn and is coming back to claim what is his. I am his emissary. I wasn’t trying to kill Rarick. I am here to make him an offer. Sah Pitan wants to make Rarick Emperor of Newterra.”

  “I think you were here in Ardel. Your accent isn’t Damarian, even if you try to sound like a local. Your vowels are too flat. It’s clear you’ve made some effort to correct this, which suggests you came to Ardel before the Cleansing and had plans to improve your stature in life. You wouldn’t have bothered changing your accent if you’d arrived after the Cleansing. With a bit more diligence and a couple of vocal tricks you could have hidden your western upbringing altogether, but why would you do that?”

  “You’re full of it. How do you know I didn’t change my accent to throw you off the track?”

  “If it were for my benefit it would be more consistent. You’d be more aware of the words you’re using and how you use them. Were you successful in your new life before the Cleansing?”

  “You don’t know a thing about me. You’re groping in the dark. I’m a Pintaran changeling from the Kilbari desert. Come closer so I can touch you, I’ll steal your identity and leave here as you, Rarick will never know the difference.”

  “You’re a rock-slider, which suggests you’re from an area where the primary industry is mining.”

  Amir scoffed. “Nonsense. Talents are random. You can’t learn anything about people from their talents.”

  “Talents have a way of developing where they are most needed. I’ll add uneducated to the list of your attributes,” Valan said.

  “If I’m so uneducated, how’d I get so close to your precious Lord?” Amir spat the words at Valan.

  He really is ashamed of his poor childhood. Noted.

  “You had help,” Valan said, moving closer. “Tell me who your accomplices were.”

  “Two of Amir’s dimin contacted me about a month ago—”

  “Tell me who helped you!” Valan said. Rarick’s dimin, that’s a good one, I should have thought of that.

  Valan leaned forward against the bench so that he was on eye level with Amir. His left hand slid under the heavy stone slab into the crevice where he’d hidden a small device the day before Amir had been brought to this cell.

  Amir turned his head away and looked up at the ceiling. He was naked from the waist up and the wounds that had been inflicted on him, while healed, had left nasty scars.

  “Who were your accomplices?” Valan pressed the activation button on the device. “Did you have a sponsor or were you working alone?”

  Valan leaned back on the stool. He waited a moment then took another device, a small electrical toy, from his pocket and tried to turn it on. When it didn’t work, he put it back in his pocket.

  “Lord Obdurin contacted me,” Amir said.

  Speaking softly, Valan said, “I have a proposition for you.”

  Valan fought to keep the smile from his face as the tension mounted.

  Amir turned suddenly to examine him and asked softly, “Who are you?”

  Ah, so he doesn’t know about Lilly and me, after all. “A better question is, who would I be.”

  “Who would you be?” Amir pushed himself up onto his elbows. After a moment he laughed, soft and cynical.

  Valan waited him out.

  “You want to achieve what I failed at. Well, good luck. If the bastards keep me alive long enough, we might even get to share a cell.”

  “There is a difference between you and me. There is a reason I will succeed where you failed,” Valan said.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I have a reason to be close to Lord Rarick, multiple reasons in fact.”

  Amir laid back down on his bench. “You’re crazy, by now the cameras in this cell have transmitted your treasonous words, and the guards will be here any second to take you away.”

  “Any second, eh?” Valan said. “While we wait do you mind if I conduct a postmortem of your plan?” When Amir said nothing, Valan continued, “Your plan was good, you came much closer to success than anybody has ever come before, and believe me, there have been many attempts on Lord Rarick’s life. Not only does he have the enviable position of being a God’s Chosen, which in itself is enough to draw the ambitious and the stupid alike, but he’s also a vicious bastard who is easy to hate.”

  “Keep talking. Rarick’s torturers will be so busy with you they might leave me alone for a while.”

  “It’s remarkable you made it as far as you did,” Valan said not bothered by Amir’s interruption. “How did you plan to get past the bondsan and Rarick’s angels?”

  Amir remained silent and glanced at the door, no doubt wondering what was keeping the guards.

  “Did you have a plan to get past the wards, or the permanent dead-zone positioned around Maiten’s Hall?”

  “Where are those guards?” Amir muttered.

  “You were a fool to think you would get close enough. Did you think you were favored by Maiten?” Valan paused. “People believe the strangest things, but to place your life in a God’s hand doesn’t seem like your style. Your error, in my opinion, was the failure to plan for different eventualities. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks almost as if you decided on a course of action and then expected everything to line up neatly to assi
st you in achieving your goal.”

  “You’re boring me,” Amir said. “But as these are your final minutes of freedom, you should use them however you see fit.”

  Valan continued, “I, on the other hand, have planned for every eventuality.” He leaned forward again and picked up the device under the stone bench. He held it up for Amir and asked, “Do you know what this is?”

  Amir’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the device, at Valan, the black globes mounted in two corners of the ceiling, and then back at the device. “An EMP. Who are you? Why should I help you?”

  “Help me?” Valan asked.

  “Unless you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” Amir said.

  “You should help me because I am the only person who is willing to help you.” Valan pushed the device back into the crevice under the stone bench. “I am the only person who can help you.”

  “I’m not interested in an easy death,” Amir said.

  No, you’d die in horrible agony just to spite somebody for trying to help. He said, “Good, I’m not offering an easy death.”

  “What then?”

  “A way out.”

  Amir studied Valan in silence, a vein pulsed in his neck until he rubbed it with his hand.

  Is he testing my nerve, Valan thought. He knows as well as I do that Rarick will send somebody to see why the cameras failed. We don’t have long.

  Eventually, Amir asked, “How?”

  Valan wondered, Is he on board? What choice does he have?

  Valan’s plans had been carefully laid over years, including Amir was a deviation, but Amir presented an opportunity Valan couldn’t afford to waste. “There are paths between the realms.”

  Amir thought for a second then said, “Nonsense. Nice try, you almost had me. Did you even turn the cameras off?”

  “You agree to help me, or I will leave you here for Rarick’s torturers to finish you off.”

  “Or I could tell them what I know about you,” Amir said.

  “Do you think they’d listen, after all the other stories you’ve told them?”

  “They might.”