Talion Revenant

  "Yes, my lord." Jevin bowed and sat. He waited until Lord Hansur turned his back before he speared the last of my liver. I followed Lord Hansur away from the table and chuckled. Some things never changed.

  Jevin had not changed and neither had Lord Hansur. His face was perhaps a bit more seamed and thinner than when I first met him, but his body was still the same tall, lean, wiry skeleton that looked frail but was not weak. Some of the other lords showed their age, but Lord Hansur did not. He was ageless; as ageless as the skull tattoo on his palm.

  We left the mess hall and walked through the Star's corridors to Lord Hansur's rooms. Lord Hansur shut the door behind me, then crossed around to his desk and sat. He waved me to the chair facing him, and then he picked up my journal.

  He leafed through the book. "Your conduct was satisfactory, if a bit strange in Pine Springs. In the future I would prefer you to deal with the politicians in private. I realize there have been no bad repercussions because of your actions, but I am sure you can share my dread for a day when an offended noble decides to slay those who remind him of his humiliation at your hands."

  I bowed my head and rubbed my left hand over my face. "You are correct, my lord. I will change my behavior in the future."

  Lord Hansur smiled gently. "I can also understand what you did to Tafano, but I submit that was not the wisest thing you could have done. If he heals you will have a very big problem on your hands."

  I marveled at Lord Hansur's evaluation method. He did not rant as some other lords did. Coolly he reminded me of the unnecessary risks I'd taken and advised me against them. In effect he suggested what actions he felt I should avoid, but he did not expressly forbid any action. He retained control of me, but did not put me in a situation to resent that control.

  I found it interesting that he handled each Justice differently, if tales told by other Justices of their evaluations were true. Whereas I might be praised for an unusual solution to a dangerous situation, another Justice might be chastized for having gotten into such a situation in the first place. Each Justice was measured against the standard of the laws we enforced, but more importantly each Justice was judged against himself. Lord Hansur asked for the best from each of his Justices, and he got it.

  "Nolan, Morai's escape is a minor problem. The fact that he has eluded you so many times is not as bad as it might seem. Because he has escaped you, men believe him immune to your power and are willing to join him. He keeps them in line, curbing their baser instincts, and brings them out where we can get at them. If I did not know he allowed us to get his men so he'd have an easier time splitting up the loot, I'd imagine he actually worked for or with you."

  I smiled sheepishly. "I only wish he did work with me. If he did I would've been out of the pit when the Elites arrived."

  That brought a smile to Lord Hansur's face. "I must apologize for that. Your immediate return was necessary. A situation has arisen, one that you are uniquely suited to deal with. You will be briefed on it in the morning."

  "My time is mine until then?"

  "Yes."

  I rose and he handed me my journal. I turned to leave but his voice stopped me.

  "You might take Jevin into Taltown and have him show you the newest braising pit. A businessman all the way from Gull came here to treat us to culinary delights beyond, as he put it, 'your reach, my Lord Talion.' "

  I laughed aloud. "That ought to be worth some time." I bowed. "Until the morning, then."

  Lord Hansur returned my bow and I left. I found Jevin in another room down the hall from mine. Despite his protests that he could not eat another mouthful, no matter how well the Gull merchant prepared marinated liver, he came with me. We found the stall with ease, though getting through the press of people was less simple.

  I shouldered my way past two Lancers, and one considered starting a fight, but that was before he got a good look at Jevin. The merchant, and two children, were doing a brisk business. The merchant took the money and the children delivered the wares. Most people brought their own platter, or paid a silver Provincial deposit on one of the merchant's wooden plates.

  "What will you have, my lords?" The merchant's chubby cheeks were bunched around the corners of his wide smile.

  A thread of smoke passed by me and made my decision simple. "I would like half a chicken. Jevin, do you want anything?"

  "Nolan, I couldn't."

  "I'll buy...."

  The Fealareen grinned wolfishly. "Well, only to be polite."

  I laughed. "Of course. .. ."

  Jevin looked at the merchant. "The usual, kind sir."

  * * *

  I slept well that night. The chicken was delicious, and I have to admit the merchant's treatment of liver actually made it palatable. With my belly full I drifted off into a thick slumber and remembered none of my dreams.

  Morning came none too quickly, and I awoke refreshed. I stretched and got out of bed. A note sealed by the Master lay on the table in my room. It read: "Feed yourself, then come prepared to my chamber." The "prepared" meant only one thing: he wanted me fully armed and ready for combat.

  The directive puzzled me, but that was not unusual. A normal Talion like myself is not meant to know what the Master is thinking. I'm meant to follow orders and do my job. If I have to think while doing it, well, that's part of the job.

  Since I had been called for an audience I decided to eat only a light breakfast. I ran to the mess hall, stopped to tell Jevin I'd not be eating with him, and walked back to the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl of stew and ate it while standing, then returned to my room. I quickly brushed all my leathers and donned them. Instead of the sleeveless leather jerkin I'd worn on the road I opted for a full-sleeved, padded jacket. A leather tab on each sleeve extended far enough to cover the back of my hands. I strapped on my weapons, which included buckling my spurs onto my boots. Fully prepared, I headed to the Master's Chamber.

  The iron-bound oak doors of the Master's rooms swung open before me. No incense choked the room this time. The Master sat in his dragonthrone and Lord Hansur stood beside him on the dais. The other lords and ladies: Fletcher of the Archers, Isas of the Elites, Kalinda of the Warriors, Cosima of the Wizards, and Eric of the Lancers stood on either side of the dais. His Excellency, Lord of Services, was not present.

  The carpet had been peeled back from a trapdoor. The broad wooden door stood upright like a Warrior prepared for inspection. It opened onto a black void.

  "Justice Nolan." With a voice just a trace weaker than I remembered it, the Master addressed me solemnly.

  "Yes, Master."

  He pointed to the opening in the floor. "The Darkmaze."

  "Yes, Master."

  "If you can, kill whatever you find down there."

  Chapter Eight

  Novice: Fifteen

  "The Darkmaze Hunt. You may have heard of it, Nolan." The Sixteen spoke particularly condescendingly to me. He was from Hamis.

  I nodded my head.

  He smiled. "Good. The exercise is simple. You enter the maze ahead of us, hide, and we will try to find you. If we cannot, you win." His tone clearly suggested that I could only delay my discovery, and that too long a delay would make it rougher on me when they finally tracked me down.

  I groaned inwardly. Occasionally our lords allowed the Sixteens to make up exercises to run us Fifteens through. Their drills generally involved a great deal of body contact—"good-natured rough-housing"—and, if nothing else, an object lesson in avoiding a more organized, larger group of foes.

  "Hope I don't make it easy for you!" I lurched up from the old, wooden bench, sprang past the startled Sixteens, and dove feet-first into the Darkmaze. Their shouts of outrage and threats of revenge chased me into the black pit.

  This was by no means my first visit to the maze that lurked like a stagnant shadow-pool beneath the Star. Like my other visits to the maze, this one began in one of three holding rooms. Other exercises ran from simple races through the maze to team competitions and mock
battles in the dark.

  From my first trip into the maze I decided to conquer my fear of cloying darkness and learn as much as I could about my surroundings. I discovered many pits and trip blocks that made reckless dashes through the maze very foolish. I uncovered narrow passages and tunnels that worked around often traveled intersections or led out of cul-de-sacs. I saw each visit as a chance to use what I had already learned in the Darkmaze, and an opportunity to learn more about the maze itself.

  I landed on my feet and crouched to absorb the impact of the drop. The air was dry, musty, and full of the dustcloud I raised with my landing. I stifled a sneeze and headed deeper into the maze. I felt along the walls with my left hand and chose branches that took me to the left.

  During my last run through the maze I found a pit near the south wall of the maze, but I couldn't find any tunnels that approached it from the other side. That was unusual, and although I relied upon a strictly mental map of the Darkmaze, I felt certain there had to be something beyond the pit.

  I couldn't ask anyone if they'd ever discovered anything beyond the pit, because the Lancers and Warriors considered mapping the Darkmaze cheating. They enjoyed reacting to unusual situations, it seemed, and they guaranteed themselves plenty of surprises by refusing to learn the maze's layout. Most other novices followed the Lancer practice because they didn't want to take the time to learn the maze, and if any of them were in the same situation I was, of having half-memorized it, they surely would not mention it for fear of Lancer ridicule.

  I reached the pit quickly and fished a handful of stones out of my pocket. I dropped the first into the pit and listened for it to hit bottom. It landed after a short drop, so I estimated the pit was only twelve or fifteen feet deep—enough to trap a foolish novice, but not really enough of a fall to hurt someone badly. I arced the second stone gently out into the darkness, and, waiting for it to hit the far side, I got a big surprise.

  It clicked against the far wall far more quickly than I expected.

  I stopped for a moment and thought. The pit itself could only be six to ten feet across, which made for a substantial amount of room between it and the Star's south foundation wall. I was convinced there was something beyond it, and unmindful of the exercise I was trapped in, I was determined to see what was on the other side.

  I smiled and quickly banished the thought of leaping through the utter darkness to the other side. I had no guarantee that some sort of ledge jutted out on the pit's far side. Without a ledge I'd jump out, hit the blank wall solidly, and bounce back down into the pit. Even if a ledge did exist on the other side, it might not be wide enough for me to land safely upon. In addition, the pit's builders might have set wooden posts out in the darkness across the pit to stop anyone foolish enough to jump where he could not see.

  I reached out and touched the right wall with my right hand, and the left wall with my left hand. The corridor was narrow enough that I could straighten both arms. I shuffled forward until I toed the edge of the pit and braced both my arms against the walls. I inched my right foot forward and smiled as I felt a toehold. I secured my foot in it and started forward with the left foot.

  My shoulders started aching immediately. The toeholds bore some of my weight, but I really hung from my arms. The toeholds just kept me up as I shifted an arm forward and braced again. With agonizing slowness I crawled forward. Had I been able to see myself hanging spread-eagle in midair I might have laughed, but the pain in my shoulders was not funny at all.

  When only a foot or two into the pit I heard the Sixteens drop down into the maze. A couple of them called to me to surrender, and others laughed, but fairly soon I heard the Hamisian novice's voice and the others fell silent. He issued orders, neatly splitting the maze into quadrants, and started the search for me.

  Another foot forward and I hoped I'd half finished my journey. My limbs started trembling with fatigue. I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried to speed my pace up. I heard searchers behind me and, as I had done racing with Jevin, let fear flood through tired muscles and convince them to do what I could not beg them to accomplish. My progress quickened and I reached the pit's far side—and a six-inch-wide ledge—just as two Sixteens entered the corridor behind me.

  One novice advanced quickly and almost fell into the pit. "Whoa!" he cried. I heard him clawing at the wall and the laughter of his companion when she grabbed his belt and dragged him upright.

  "I told you there was a pit down this way. Remember last year when Gaynor fell in?" Her remark almost forced a laugh from me.

  "Yeah, sure, I remember." He took one last deep breath, then growled, "Come on, he isn't here." They turned and marched back the way they'd come.

  Sitting on the ledge, which was a precarious balancing act, I noticed there was far more than six inches of hollow below the ledge. I reached back with my feet and could not touch the wall, which surprised me. I slowly moved to the pit corner and wedged myself in position so I could lower my body and try to touch the back wall with my left leg. I braced my right hand against the pit wall and rested my left hand on the ledge, then lowered myself slowly and reached out. I still couldn't touch the back wall, but on the side wall, down at my right side, I felt a solid foothold.

  Quickly I twisted, dropped down into the pit, and hung by both my hands from the ledge. I never really considered what I'd do if I found no passage down there. While dragging myself up to the ledge would not normally have been difficult, crossing the pit tired my arms and they let me know right off they were not ready to haul me back up to the ledge any time soon.

  Luckily I felt another ledge about four feet below the original ledge. I reached up with my feet and discovered the cavity was at least two feet deep, and probably more since I couldn't touch its back wall. Gently I lowered myself down and lay back in the hole I'd discovered.

  A lump on the floor pressed uncomfortably into my back. I rolled up into a sitting position and reached back with my hands to examine the stonework. I felt a wheel half-embedded in the floor along the left wall. It had ridges that made for good fingerholds, and the wheel spun forward and back pretty easily. I rotated it backward, toward the pit.

  Something ahead of me in the darkness made a grating sound. I felt a cool breeze rush over me and head toward the pit. Confused, curious, but most of all scared, I crawled forward. After ten feet of dusty pathway that gently sloped down, I felt cool clean smooth stone. Beneath my left hand I found another wheel.

  I spun this wheel forward and heard a stone panel slide down behind to cut me off from the maze. I realized, as the panel shut with a gentle thud, that I might have trapped myself. Anxiously I spun the wheel in the opposite direction, just a little, and the panel slid up again a short way. Satisfied I could escape if I wished, I closed the panel and stood.

  I placed my hand against the left wall and started forward. My fingers brushed against a series of raised bumps carved into the wall. A split-second wave of nausea washed over me as a leechspell sucked energy from my body and triggered another spell. For that moment I went from being scared to being utterly terrified.

  My fear evaporated as light glowed from a series of white disks set in the wall. The light came up gently and gave my eyes time to adjust to it. In it I saw that the raised bumps I'd brushed were magick runes of the written symbols for light and dark. By running my fingers along them from left to right I produced light. Reversing the order would shut the light off. At that time, though, I'd have sooner cut my right arm off.

  I stood—alone and unwatched—in the Talion treasury! The narrow room ran deep to the south and was stuffed to overflowing. Gold and jewels spilled from barrels and chests burst from the sheer weight of treasure! It was a miser's paradise; a riot of incalculable wealth. My body trembled worse than it had halfway over the pit, and I knew if anyone caught me in here, the Master would put me to death.

  Even with that dire a punishment hanging over me, I could not force myself back into the Darkmaze. I staggered over to one chest
of gold coins and gingerly reached my hand into it. The bright coins made a ringing rasp as I touched them. They were cool and sent a thrill through my body, but that elation condensed and froze into terror as I realized the significance of these coins.

  Clekan's smiling face flashed in the light and mocked me. All the coins in this chest matched in age and beauty the Imperial my family treasured. Still, none of these coins showed even the slightest wear from use or commerce. My family's coin was worth more than the value of its gold because of its rarity and antiquity, but here sat a whole chest full of them!

  Reverently, I set the coins back on the pile and wandered deeper into the room. Something struck me as very strange here. My fear and curiosity fought, and curiosity won only because I already knew I was doomed. If I had to die, I reasoned, I might as well solve this mystery first.

  I slowly identified the out-of-place elements and defined the room's mystery. One thing made itself apparent almost immediately upon reflection: wherever I was, it was not the Talion treasury.

  The way the treasure had been sorted and stacked was perfectly in keeping with Talion ideas of order, but the decay suggested a long period of neglect. All the chests and barrels were old, very old. Their collapse and the subsequent mess was most unTalionlike in its disorder.

  I worked on that problem as I wandered. I sorted through the various coins, searching for the youngest available. I saw no coins from any of the kingdoms of the Shattered Empire, and that disturbed me. All the coins were from the Imperial era, and after a thorough search I settled upon the coins stamped with Kiritan the Mad's profile as the youngest series of coins here.

  I took note of the style of box I'd pulled Kiritan's coin from and continued my search. I studied the other piles of treasure and decided the jewels and jewelry had suffered the least. Little more than rust remained of steel weaponry, and the fabrics crumbled to dust when I walked near them and stirred the air. Finally I located a couple more boxes similar in style to those containing Kiritan's coins.