Reaper's Gale

  Triban Gnol spread his hands. ‘Highness, I had intended to speak to you of this, but at another time—’

  ‘Of what? Out with it!’

  ‘A humble inquiry from Invigilator Karos Invictad, Highness. With all respect, I assure you, he asks your will in regard to matters of treason – not among the Letherii, of course, for he has that well in hand – but among the Tiste Edur themselves . . .’

  Nisall’s gasp echoed in the suddenly silent room. She looked across to where Edur guards were stationed, and saw them motionless as statues.

  Rhulad looked ready to weep. ‘Treason among the Edur? My Edur? No, this cannot be – has he proof?’

  A faint shrug. ‘Highness, I doubt he would have ventured this inquiry had he not inadvertently stumbled on some . . . sensitive information.’

  ‘Go away. Get out. Get out!’

  Triban Gnol bowed, then backed from the chamber. Perhaps he’d gone too far, yet the seed had been planted. In most fertile soil.

  As soon as the outer doors closed, Nisall stepped from the alcove. Rhulad waved her closer.

  ‘My love,’ he whispered in a child’s voice, ‘what am I to do? The demon – they brought it here.’

  ‘You cannot be defeated, Emperor.’

  ‘And to destroy it, how many times must I die? No, I’m not ready. Binadas was a powerful sorcerer, rival to the Warlock King himself. My brother . . .’

  ‘It may be,’ Nisall ventured, ‘that the Chancellor erred in the details of that. It may indeed be that Tomad’s dream was a deceitful sending – there are many gods and spirits out there who see the Crippled God as an enemy.’

  ‘No more. I am cursed into confusion; I don’t understand any of this. What is happening, Nisall?’

  ‘Palace ambitions, beloved. The return of the fleets has stirred things up.’

  ‘My own Edur . . . plotting treason . . .’

  She reached out and set a hand on his left shoulder. The lightest of touches, momentary, then withdrawn once more. Dare I? ‘Karos Invictad is perhaps the most ambitious of them all. He revels in his reign of terror among the Letherii, and would expand it to include the Tiste Edur. Highness, I am Letherii – I know men like the Invigilator, I know what drives them, what feeds their malign souls. He hungers for control, for his heart quails in fear at all that is outside his control – at chaos itself. In his world, he is assailed on all sides. Highness, Karos Invictad’s ideal world is one surrounded by a sea of corpses, every unknown and unknowable obliterated. And even then, he will find no peace.’

  ‘Perhaps he should face me in the arena,’ Rhulad said, with a sudden vicious smile. ‘Face to face with a child of chaos, yes? But no, I need him to hunt down his Letherii. The traitors.’

  ‘And shall this Letherii be granted domination over Tiste Edur as well?’

  ‘Treason is colourless,’ Rhulad said, shifting uneasily on the throne once more. ‘It flows unseen no matter the hue of blood. I have not decided on that. I need to think, to understand. Perhaps I should summon the Chancellor once again.’

  ‘Highness, you once appointed an Edur to oversee the Patriotists. Do you recall?’

  ‘Of course I do. Do you think me an idiot, woman?’

  ‘Perhaps Bruthen Trana—’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. Not once has he reported to me. Has he done as I commanded? How do I even know?’

  ‘Summon him, then, Highness.’

  ‘Why does he hide from me? Unless he conspires with the other traitors.’

  ‘Highness, I know for a truth that he seeks an audience with you almost daily.’

  ‘You?’ Rhulad glanced over at her, eyes narrowing. ‘How?’

  ‘Bruthen Trana sought me out, beseeching me to speak to you on his behalf. The Chancellor denies him an audience with you—’

  ‘Triban Gnol cannot deny such things! He is a Letherii! Where are my Edur? Why do I never see them? And now Tomad has returned, and Hanradi Khalag! None of them will speak to me!’

  ‘Highness, Tomad waits in the outer chamber—’

  ‘He knew I would deny him. You are confusing me, whore. I don’t need you – I don’t need anyone! I just need time. To think. That is all. They’re all frightened of me, and with good reason, oh yes. Traitors are always frightened, and when their schemes are discovered, oh how they plead for their lives! Perhaps I should kill everyone – a sea of corpses, then there would be peace. And that is all I want. Peace. Tell me, are the people happy, Nisall?’

  She bowed her head. ‘I do not know, Highness.’

  ‘Are you? Are you happy with me?’

  ‘I feel naught but love for you, Emperor. My heart is yours.’

  ‘The same words you spoke to Diskanar, no doubt. And all the other men you’ve bedded. Have your slaves draw a bath – you stink of sweat, woman. Then await me beneath silks.’ He raised his voice. ‘Call the Chancellor! We wish to speak to him immediately! Go, Nisall, your Letherii stink makes me ill.’

  As she backed away Rhulad raised his free hand. ‘My dearest, the golden silks – you are like a pearl among those. The sweetest pearl . . .’

  Bruthen Trana waited in the corridor until Tomad Sengar, denied audience with the Emperor, departed the Citizens’ Chamber. Stepping into the elder’s path he bowed and said, ‘I greet you, Tomad Sengar.’

  Distracted, the older Tiste Edur frowned at him. ‘Den- Ratha. What do you wish from me?’

  ‘A word or two, no more than that. I am Bruthen Trana—’

  ‘One of Rhulad’s sycophants.’

  ‘Alas, no. I was appointed early in the regime to oversee the Letherii security organization known as the Patriotists. As part of my responsibilities, I was to report to the Emperor in person each week. As of yet, I have not once addressed him. The Chancellor has interposed himself and turns me away each and every time.’

  ‘My youngest son suckles at Gnol’s tit,’ Tomad Sengar said in a low, bitter voice.

  ‘It is my belief,’ Bruthen Trana said, ‘that the Emperor himself is not entirely aware of the extent of the barriers the Chancellor and his agents have raised around him, Elder Sengar. Although I have sought to penetrate them, I have failed thus far.’

  ‘Then why turn to me, Den-Ratha? I am even less able to reach through to my son.’

  ‘It is the Tiste Edur who are being isolated from their Emperor,’ Bruthen said. ‘Not just you and I. All of us.’

  ‘Hannan Mosag—’

  ‘Is reviled, for it is well understood that the Warlock King is responsible for all of this. His ambition, his pact with an evil god. He sought the sword for himself, did he not?’

  ‘Then Rhulad is truly alone?’

  Bruthen Trana nodded, then added, ‘There is a possibility . . . there is one person. The Letherii woman who is his First Concubine—’

  ‘A Letherii?’ Tomad snarled. ‘You must be mad. She is an agent for Gnol, a spy. She has corrupted Rhulad – how else could she remain as First Concubine? My son would never have taken her, unless she had some nefarious hold over him.’ The snarl twisted the elder’s features. ‘You are being used, warrior. You and I shall not speak again.’

  Tomad Sengar pushed him to one side and marched down the corridor. Bruthen Trana turned to watch him go.

  Drawing out a crimson silk cloth, Karos Invictad daubed at the sweat on his brow, his eyes fixed on the strange two-headed insect as it circled in place, round and round and round in its box cage. ‘Not a single arrangement of tiles will halt this confounded, brainless creature. I begin to believe this is a hoax.’

  ‘Were it me, sir,’ Tanal Yathvanar said, ‘I would have crushed the whole contraption under heel long ago. Indeed it must be a hoax – the proof is that you have not defeated it yet.’

  The Invigilator’s gaze lifted, regarded Tanal. ‘I do not know which is the more disgusting, you acknowledging defeat by an insect, or your pathetic attempts at flattery.’ He set the cloth down on the table and leaned back. ‘The studied pursuit of solutions requires patien
ce, and, more, a certain cast of intellect. This is why you will never achieve more than you have, Tanal Yathvanar. You totter at the very edge of your competence – ah, no need for the blood to so rush to your face, it is what you are that I find so useful to me. Furthermore, you display uncommon wisdom in restraining your ambition, so that you make no effort to attempt what is beyond your capacity. That is a rare talent. Now, what have you to report to me this fine afternoon?’

  ‘Master, we have come very close to seeing our efforts extended to include the Tiste Edur.’

  Karos Invictad’s brows rose. ‘Triban Gnol has spoken to the Emperor?’

  ‘He has. Of course, the Emperor was shaken by the notion of traitors among the Edur. So much so that he ordered the Chancellor from the throne room. For a while.’ Tanal Yathvanar smiled. ‘A quarter-bell, apparently. The subject was not broached again that day, yet it is clear that Rhulad’s suspicions of his fellow Edur have burgeoned.’

  ‘Very well. It will not be long, then.’ The Invigilator leaned forward again, frowning down at the puzzle box. ‘It is important that all obstacles be removed. The only words the Emperor should be hearing should come from the Chancellor. Tanal, prepare a dossier on the First Concubine.’ He looked up again. ‘You understand, don’t you, that your opportunity to free that scholar you have chained far below has passed? There is no choice now but that she must disappear.’

  Unable to speak, Tanal Yathvanar simply nodded.

  ‘I note this – and with some urgency – because you have no doubt grown weary of her in any case, and if not, you should have. I trust I am understood. Would you not enjoy replacing her with the First Concubine?’ Karos smiled.

  Tanal licked dry lips. ‘Such a dossier will be difficult, Master—’

  ‘Don’t be a fool. Work with the Chancellor’s agents. We’re not interested in factual reportage here. Invent what we need to incriminate her. That should not be difficult. Errant knows, we have had enough practice.’

  ‘Even so – forgive me, sir – but she is the Emperor’s only lover.’

  ‘You do not understand at all, do you? She is not Rhulad’s first love. No, that woman, an Edur, killed herself – oh, never mind the official version, I have witness reports of that tragic event. She was carrying the Emperor’s child. Thus, in every respect imaginable, she betrayed him. Tanal, for Rhulad the rains have just passed, and while the clay feels firm underfoot, it is in truth thin as papyrus. At the first intimation of suspicion, Rhulad will lose his mind to rage – we will be lucky to wrest the woman from his clutches. Accordingly, the arrest must take effect in the palace, in private, when the First Concubine is alone. She must then be brought here immediately.’

  ‘Do you not believe the Emperor will demand her return?’

  ‘The Chancellor will advise against it, of course. Please, Tanal Yathvanar, leave the subtle details of human – and Edur – natures to those of us who fully comprehend them. You shall have the woman, fear not. To do with as you please – once we have her confession, that is. Bloodied and bruised, is that not how you prefer them? Now, leave me. I believe I have arrived at a solution to this contraption.’

  * * *

  Tanal Yathvanar stood outside the closed door for a time, struggling to slow his heart, his mind racing. Murder Janath Anar? Make her disappear like all the others? Fattening the crabs at the bottom of the river? Oh, Errant, I do not know . . . if . . . I do not know—

  From behind the office door came a snarl of frustration.

  Oddly enough, the sound delighted him. Yes, you towering intellect, it defeats you again. That two-headed nightmare in miniature. For all your lofty musings on your own genius, this puzzle confounds you. Perhaps, Invigilator, the world is not how you would have it, not so clear, not so perfectly designed to welcome your domination. He forced himself forward, down the hall. No, he would not kill Janath Anar. He loved her. Karos Invictad loved only himself – it had always been so, Tanal suspected, and that was not going to change. The Invigilator understood nothing of human nature, no matter how he might delude himself. Indeed, Karos had given himself away in that careless command to kill her. Yes, Invigilator, this is my revelation. I am smarter than you. I am superior in all the ways that truly matter. You and your power, it is all compensation for what you do not understand about the world, for the void in your soul where compassion belongs. Compassion, and the love that one can feel for another person.

  He would tell her, now. He would confess the depth of his feelings, and then he would unchain her, and they would flee. Out of Letheras. Beyond the reach of the Patriotists. Together, they would make their lives anew.

  He hurried down the damp, worn stairs, beyond the sight of everyone now, down into his own private world. Where his love awaited him.

  The Invigilator could not reach everywhere – as Tanal was about to prove.

  Down through darkness, all so familiar now he no longer needed a lantern. Where he ruled, not Karos Invictad, no, not here. This was why the Invigilator attacked him again and again, with ever the same weapon, the implicit threat of exposure, of defamation of Tanal Yathvanar’s good name. But all these crimes, they belonged to Karos Invictad. Imagine the counter-charges Tanal could level against him, if he needed to – he had copies of records; he knew where every secret was buried. The accounts of the bloodstained wealth the Invigilator had amassed from the estates of his victims – Tanal knew where those records were kept. And as for the corpses of the ones who had disappeared . . .

  Reaching the barred door to the torture chamber, he drew down the lantern he had left on a ledge and, after a few efforts, struck the wick alight. He lifted clear the heavy bar and pushed open the heavy door with one hand.

  ‘Back so soon?’ The voice was a raw croak.

  Tanal stepped into the chamber. ‘You have fouled yourself again. No matter – this is the last time, Janath Anar.’

  ‘Come to kill me, then. So be it. You should have done that long ago. I look forward to leaving this broken flesh. You cannot chain a ghost. And so, with my death, you shall become the prisoner. You shall be the one who is tormented. For as long as you live, and I do hope it is long, I shall whisper in your ear—’ She broke into a fit of coughing.

  He walked closer, feeling emptied inside, his every determination stripped away by the vehemence in her words.

  The manacles seemed to weep blood – she had been struggling against her fetters again. Dreaming of haunting me, of destroying me. How is she any different? How could I have expected her to be any different? ‘Look at you,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Not even human any more – do you not care about your appearance, about how you want me to see you when I come here?’

  ‘You’re right,’ she said in a grating voice, ‘I should have waited until you arrived, until you came close. Then voided all over you. I’m sorry. I’m afraid my bowels are in bad shape right now – the muscles are weakening, inevitably.’

  ‘You’ll not haunt me, woman, your soul is too useless – the Abyss will sweep it away, I’m sure. Besides, I won’t kill you for a long while yet—’ ‘I don’t think it’s up to you any more, Tanal Yathvanar.’

  ‘It’s all up to me!’ he shrieked. ‘All of it!’

  He stalked over to her and began unshackling her arms, then her legs. She lost consciousness before he had freed her second wrist, and slid into a heap that almost snapped both her legs before he managed to work the manacles from her battered, torn ankles.

  She weighed almost nothing, and he was able to move quickly, up twenty or so stairs, until he reached a side passage. The slimy cobble floor underfoot gradually sloped downward as he shambled along, the woman over one shoulder, the lantern swinging from his free hand. Rats scurried from his path, out to the sides where deep, narrow gutters had been cut by an almost constant flow of runoff.

  Eventually, the drip of dark water from the curved ceiling overhead became a veritable rain. The droplets revived Janath momentarily, enough for her to moan, then cough for a half
-dozen strides – he was thankful when she swooned once more, and the feeble clawing on his back ceased.

  And now came the stench. Disappeared? Oh no, they are here. All of them. All the ones Karos Invictad didn’t like, didn’t need, wanted out of the way.

  Into the first of the huge domed chambers with its stone walkway encircling a deep well, in which white-shelled crabs clambered amidst bones. This well was entirely filled, which is what had forced the opening of another, then another and another – there were so many of them, down here beneath the river.

  Arriving at the last of the chambers, Tanal set her down, where he shackled one of her legs to the wall. On either side of her, she had company, although neither victim was alive. He stepped back as she stirred once more.

  ‘This is temporary,’ he said. ‘You won’t be joining your friends beside you. When I return – and it won’t be long – I will move you again. To a new cell, known to no-one but me. Where I will teach you to love me. You’ll see, Janath Anar. I am not the monster you believe me to be. Karos Invictad is the monster – he has twisted me, he has made me into what I am. But Karos Invictad is not a god. Not immortal. Not . . . infallible. As we shall all discover. He thinks I want her, that whore of the Emperor’s – that dirty, fallen bitch. He could not be more wrong. Oh, there’s so much to do now, but I promise I won’t be gone long. You’ll see, my love . . .’

  She awoke to the sound of his footfalls, dwindling, then lost to the trickle and drip of water. It was dark, and cold, colder than it had ever been before – she was somewhere else now, some other crypt, but the same nightmare.

  She lifted a hand – as best she could – and wiped at her face. Her hand came away slick with slime. Yet . . . the chains, they’re gone. She struggled to draw her limbs inward, then almost immediately heard the rattle of iron links snaking across stone. Ah, not completely.