The Lord of Frake's Peak (The Bastard Cadre Book 4) Page 4

  “Not dangerous,” Sorros said without taking his eyes from the dead men on the audience chamber floor. “But for the sake of decency, we should adjourn to another room.”

  “We’re not squeamish men,” Ethan said. He’d entered the circle of Gordon’s cadre and faced Sorros.

  Sorros looked up at the solid black man. Ethan grinned at him with one side of his mouth and raised his laser-cutter to point at Sorros’s chest. “You move pretty quick.”

  Sorros didn’t flinch.

  “I should pull the trigger and put you with your friends,” Ethan said.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “You’re not me.”

  “If you do, I advise you wait until Lord Obdurin has had time to evacuate to the city below.” Sorros produced a small knife from inside the silks he wore and trimmed his left thumbnail.

  “You were supposed to search them for weapons,” Ethan told Gordon.

  “We did,” Gordon replied calmly, but he examined Sorros as though wondering what else his cadre had missed.

  “You’re not impressing anybody,” Ethan told Sorros.

  “I’m not trying to,” Sorros said. Without looking away from Ethan, he flicked the trimmed nail into the black smoke coming from the two corpses. A small fiery explosion billowed into life and dissipated just as quickly. Ethan and Gordon’s cadre jumped back in surprise.

  “That’s it.” Ethan advanced on Sorros.

  “By the stars, Ethan!” Fahlim said. “You’re much less fun ever since—” Fahlim stopped, then said, “Put your silly toy away, this man is no threat to us.”

  “You know him?” Lord Obdurin asked.

  Ethan glowered at Fahlim, but he didn’t lower his weapon.

  Fahlim opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Surprised, Obdurin pressed, “Well?”

  “I,” Fahlim looked at the faces around the table until he found the young woman. “Cherry?”

  She smiled pleasantly back at him, but said nothing, dashing his hopes of aid.

  “I vouch for him,” Fahlim said. “Temporarily. Long enough to stop your hound from attempting to shoot holes in him.”

  Fahlim sat back down and glanced around, fidgeting.

  “Attempt?” Ethan asked.

  Vincent noticed Lord Obdurin watching Fahlim for a moment before turning to Ethan and Sorros.

  “What are you? How did you do that?” Lord Obdurin asked Sorros.

  “The chemical composition of my body has been altered,” Sorros said, “As has theirs. The alterations on their own are harmless, and no security scanner in the world will pick them up.”

  “But when you make physical contact with those two men, the result is an explosion?” Lord Obdurin asked.

  “Yes. If I had embraced them, as we had planned, the top of Frake’s Peak would be a smoldering ruin, and Frake’s Stronghold would be completely gone.”

  The room was silent for a moment as everybody processed this information.

  “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a hole in your head, right now,” Ethan said.

  “Because if I hadn’t come, another man would have taken my place and he would have accepted their embrace.”

  “Lord Rarick must trust you a great deal to give you this honor,” Obdurin said.

  “No, he doesn’t even know me. We,” Sorros emphasized the word, “have a mutual acquaintance in Rarick’s court. He arranged for me to be a part of this.”

  “A mutual acquaintance?” Fahlim chuckled where he sat. Lord Obdurin glowered at him. Noticing the Lord’s attention, Fahlim got himself under control and shrugged, “You have to see the humor in that statement if the mutual acquaintance is who we all know it must be.”

  “You said you have a suggestion and a proposal,” Obdurin said. “As you have rendered your own suggestion worthless, what is your proposal?” Lord Obdurin still sat on his throne flanked by the ever calm dimin, Sunder and Thwart.

  “I am not without knowledge or skill.” Sorros glanced at Ethan who was still pointing his weapon at him. “I believe I could be useful to you.”

  Obdurin glanced at Cherry and Fahlim, then asked, “You’re immortal?”

  Sorros nodded once.

  “What would you gain from offering your services to Rhysin?”

  “I would never be so presumptuous,” the immortal said. “The Gods have taken avatars in this world, the natural assumption is that it’s through these avatars that they wish to communicate with us. I trust Rhysin’s judgment in his choice of avatar, and so it is to his avatar that I offer my services.”

  “You’re offering your services to me, but not to Rhysin?”

  Sorros nodded again.

  “Is there a difference?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s a minor distinction, but one I would make.”

  “And if I cease to be Rhysin’s avatar?” Obdurin asked.

  “Then you will no longer require my services,” Sorros said.

  Obdurin smiled at this answer. “You still haven’t told me what you hope to gain from this arrangement.”

  “Discourse,” Sorros said. “Men, not all men, but many, have tried to ignore or fight the Gods of this land for a very long time. The Cleansing proved that is not a good idea. I think we need to change the game, and it’s my observation that Rhysin is the most enlightened of the Gods.”

  “Your observation?” Cherry asked. “You watch the Gods?”

  “I watch what the Gods show of themselves, their avatars.”

  “So you believe Rhysin is the most enlightened of the Gods because you have observed Lord Obdurin to be enlightened?” Cherry asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Ridiculous,” Tysin snapped. Realizing he’d spoken aloud Tysin blushed and said, “Lord Obdurin and Rhysin are not the same person. You cannot make judgments about Rhysin based on Lord Obdurin’s actions.”

  Obdurin said nothing to this, but he allowed the acolyte to squirm for a moment. Obdurin asked Sorros, “What do you hope to gain through discourse with me?”

  “With Rhysin’s avatar,” Sorros amended. “I want to understand the game the Gods play. I believe the best way to win a game is to change the rules when the other players aren’t watching, and I can’t do that unless I know the rules.”

  “You want to help Rhysin win the game?” Obdurin asked.

  “I want to end the game any way I can. I believe helping you achieve your goals will do that.”

  “My goals or Rhysin’s?”

  Sorros smiled and asked, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

  “How can I trust you?” Obdurin asked.

  Ethan stepped closer with his laser-cutter and started to speak, “I don’t think we—”

  Sorros reached out with his left hand to force the barrel of Ethan’s laser-cutter up. He struck Ethan a solid blow in the throat with his right elbow, and as Ethan dropped to his knees, Sorros took the laser-cutter from him. He slipped past Gordon’s cadre and stopped at Obdurin’s throne before anybody could react.

  The immortal held a knife to Lord Obdurin’s throat, and everybody froze.

  The dimin at Obdurin’s back made no move to interfere with Sorros. Vincent acted without hesitation. He skimmed from his sitting position toward Sorros and the Lord of Frake’s Peak, drawing his own knife as he went, but when he appeared before Sorros, the immortal had Ethan’s laser-cutter aimed at Vincent’s chest.

  Vincent stopped. Sorros couldn’t have seen him coming, and yet.

  “If you plan to kill me you should do it now,” Obdurin said, his voice remarkably calm. “Though you must know, only a few immortals have ever taken a God’s heart.”

  “You play games with the Gods, but you refuse to be a God’s pawn and invent your own variation of the game,” Sorros said. “I want to look upon you with your life in the balance to see if you have the will for the games you play.”

  Sorros and Obdurin stared at each other for a moment.

  “I am playing games because it’s necessary,” Obd
urin said. “If the other Chosen would accept peace, none of it would be.”

  “You have to force it on them,” Sorros said.

  “I’m trying,” Obdurin said, “but how do you force peace?”

  “You’re on the right path,” Sorros said. “I can help you.”

  Obdurin sat forward to examine the man before him, the weapon at his throat forgotten. He was quiet for a long time, people in the chamber fidgeted, but Obdurin said nothing. Eventually, he straightened and asked Sorros d’Shan, “Did you fight in the Dragon Wars?”

  Sorros nodded.

  “Who did you fight for? The Dragon Lords or the True Gods?”

  “The Newterrans,” Sorros answered without hesitation.

  Obdurin smiled at the answer.

  “You can trust me,” Sorros said, “because if I were here to take Rhysin’s heart from you, I would have done it by now, but I am glad you asked. I do not want my motives regarding Rhysin’s heart to be questioned later.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. You might have another purpose in mind. Taking Rhysin’s heart isn’t the only option. How can I trust you?” Obdurin asked.

  Sorros took a breath then said, “It was I who whispered in Calini’s ear at the end.”

  Obdurin sat back, his eyes widening and his right hand coming up to scratch his beard. “Why?”

  “Because allies can be found in the strangest of places.” Sorros stepped back, lowering the laser-cutter and returning the knife to its hiding place beneath his silks. He dropped to one knee and lowered his head. “If you will accept my services, all that I can do is at your disposal.”

  This time Obdurin didn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

  5

  Turintar

  “Ready yourselves,” a deep voice rumbled.

  A strong hand gripped Vincent’s upper arm, and the world tilted around him until he almost fell. Lord Obdurin’s audience chamber disappeared in darkness, and right-angled shapes formed and loomed above him. The world leveled out again, and the hand released him, but the vertigo remained, and he staggered a pace.

  Turintar.

  Regaining his balance, Vincent’s eyes glided across the circle of people he’d traveled with, searching for the familiar or counting heads, he wasn’t sure which. They were all there, Lord Obdurin and his protective shadow Ethan, Walden and the people Vincent had met in the barracks, Gordon’s and Mattatan’s cadres, and Sorros.

  We didn’t lose anybody.

  He forced himself to look outward from the circle of people for possible threats, but when he turned, the sister suns in the morning sky blinded him, forcing his eyes shut. Vincent thought his ability as a skimmer should have prepared him for the jump from Frake’s Stronghold to Turintar, but it hadn’t. Mattatan’s cadre had transported them across half a continent in the time between breaths, but by the time Vincent’s senses had leveled out, any serious threat to them would have caught him unprepared.

  He squinted against the morning suns.

  They were in an open space between large square buildings. Mattatan had said they would land at an abandoned dock close to the palace.

  Men moved away from them, blinking out of and back into reality as they skimmed.

  Gordon’s cadre.

  Vincent scanned the rest of the area, and when he was confident they were alone, he turned to examine his traveling companions again.

  Doran had wandered away from the group. In the morning suns, she looked like any other teenager he’d ever known, not quite a child but not quite an adult either. He remembered his reaction to her in the barracks and felt a pang of guilt. She wasn’t to be feared. In the barracks he’d wanted to avoid her, but fresh from the battle, he’d wanted to avoid everybody. His mood and the setting had cast everybody in a gloomy light.

  At the center of the circle, Lord Obdurin stood with the tall, tattooed first-sworn.

  “Everything is in place, Lord,” Mattatan said.

  “Thank you, Mattatan. That was a very smooth transition.” Despite his polite words, Obdurin sounded focused and eager to move. Vincent imagined the encounter with the Ambassador had stiffened his resolve.

  Fahlim stood close by. “Smooth yes, but how are we to get to the palace? Do you expect us to walk?”

  “Don’t whine, Fahlim. The palace is shielded,” Obdurin said.

  “Whine? I...”

  Vincent didn’t hear the rest as a strong hand landed on his shoulder. He turned, expecting to see a tall, tattooed bondsan, but instead it was Ethan Godkin.

  “You did well back there,” Ethan said.

  “I wasn’t able to stop him,” Vincent said, nodding toward Sorros where he stood off to one side. The immortal had changed out of the garish silks he’d worn when he arrived with the party from Damar. “In the end, he didn’t need stopping.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Ethan said and walked away from the group after Gordon’s cadre.

  Vincent watched him go.

  “Be careful of Ethan Godkin,” Fahlim said, now at Vincent’s elbow.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that little stunt you pulled back in Obdurin’s audience chamber. Trying to sneak up on Sorros d’Shan is exactly the kind of stupidity that appeals to Ethan.”

  “How was I to know he was pledging his allegiance?”

  “How were you to know anything, dear boy, and that is my point. You should have looked to the dear old dimin.”

  “What do the dimin have to do with it?” Vincent asked.

  “Why everything. What is it you think they do for Lord Obdurin? Warm his slippers and fetch his tea?”

  Feeling foolish, Vincent said, “They protect him.”

  “Were they attempting to protect him from Sorros d’Shan?”

  “There wasn’t time—”

  “There is always time, Vincent. But no they didn’t so much as twitch a tusk when Sorros played his little trick. Whenever Lord Obdurin is in danger, look to the dimin. They know. It’s what they do.”

  “We should have brought them with us,” Vincent said.

  “The dimin don’t, perhaps can’t, leave Peak City.”

  “My father traveled with his dimin,” Vincent said.

  “Yes. The Cleansing changed something,” Fahlim said, sounding uncharacteristically thoughtful.

  “What if they weren’t protecting Obdurin because Rhysin had decided it was time for a new Chosen and he’d decided Sorros was it?”

  “Then, Vincent dear, the dimin would have stopped you from stopping Sorros. I’m afraid there is no way for you to turn things around and look good. Don’t become a poster boy for the kind of stupidity that people like Pete and Ethan admire. Promise me you will think occasionally. Action without thought has become a specialty of Ethan’s of late. He was never a cautious man, but there was a time when he at least showed a little cunning.”

  “What are you talking about?” Vincent asked.

  Vincent had detected the change in attitude toward him from more than Ethan and Pete after his failed attempt to engage Sorros. He had no idea who had told Pete, but he was embarrassed by the immortal’s casual defense against him, and it was only a matter of time before Pete used it against him, but so far, Pete had only shown him what appeared to be grudging respect.

  They’re all acting like I proved something. Well, they can’t help it. After all, I am Lord Benshi’s whelp, Vincent thought.

  “Ethan might seem like a stalwart companion who’ll stick by your side in a prickly predicament, but he recently suffered a tragedy. It dulled the already blunt edge of his intellect, and now he appears intent to make the rest of the world pay for his loss. Do yourself a favor, Vincent, and give him a wide berth or he’ll take you down with him.”

  “A tragedy?” Vincent asked, Fahlim’s words sparking sympathy in him.

  Fahlim studied Vincent then sighed. “Alas, if you do team up with him and decide to burn the whole world, give me five minutes warning. Even immortals can get singed, you know
.”

  “Bugger him,” Pete interrupted “Tell me. I’ll light the fuse for you if it’ll get him to shut his trap. Enough chitchat, ladies. This isn’t some shopping trip so you can catch up on the latest gossip.”

  Mattatan’s cadre broke away from the rest of the group and formed a tight circle. In the morning light, Vincent thought Mattatan looked as stoic as ever, but Lord Obdurin said, “Don’t fret, Mattatan. I have Gordon and Ulri and all these other nice people to hold my hand.”

  Mattatan didn’t reply. An instant later he and his entire cadre vanished.

  As soon as they were gone, Lord Obdurin strode forward.

  Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan blinked toward them and solidified next to Obdurin. There was a man Vincent didn’t recognize with Gordon. He wore a long black coat, had pale skin, and a bald head.

  “What are you doing here? Your part is played, or do you have bad news for me?” Obdurin asked without slowing down, his strides those of a much younger man.

  Gordon and the stranger kept up with the Lord.

  “There’s been a development, ain’t there,” the stranger said.

  “Out with it, Rapta. I don’t have time for your games,” Obdurin said.

  One of Gordon’s bondsan stood at the entrance to the alley. Lord Obdurin led the group into the alley.

  “Games is it?” Rapta asked. “I ain’t playing games, I’m here to ensure I get paid, and as I don’t get paid unless you make it in and out again, I thought you ought to know the situation has changed.”

  Obdurin stopped in the alley and turned to face Rapta. “Marlan’s wife?”

  “No, she’s fine. Very fine, in fact.”

  “The pregnancy has taken?”

  “So far so good,” Rapta said.

  “Marlan is the father?”

  “Aye, that he is. Though he don’t know it yet.”

  “Then what?” Obdurin demanded.

  “Lord Marlan is entertaining guests.”

  “Out with it, man.”

  “I don’t know who they are, a couple of bigwigs from Damar with tidings from Lord Rarick. My guess is they’re onto you.”