Talion Revenant

  The Master read my thoughts, or seemed to. He paused to let me think and did not rush, despite Lord Eric's tiny displays of impatience. When he began speaking again he proceeded slowly and let me work past each objection I had, one at a time. He knew, as I did deep down, that I would absorb the information and learn to use it to complete my assignment successfully.

  "The Wizards placed souls in dead bodies of all types. We learned certain things and reaffirmed things necromancers had discovered years ago. For example, a body dead for over a week has lost enough brain through decay to make any sort of real thought impossible. On the other hand, training can survive death as long as the body remains in decent condition."

  The Master looked away while he searched for a suitable example. He smiled and continued. "Revitalizing a skilled swordsman gave us a nekkeht skilled in the technical points of fighting. It could no longer outthink a foe, but when faced with untrained or unskilled enemies, it would destroy them."

  The Master pointed at Rostoth. "We obtained the best results when we stripped a body of its soul and placed new souls in the body immediately. It gave us a trainable nekkeht capable of following a limited set of orders. It became an agent that felt no pain, was unstoppable, and, if captured or discovered, would die without revealing anything."

  The Master smiled at me. "You really did better than expected against the nekkeht, Nolan, especially when you battled it physically and without the Ritual."

  His Excellency and Lord Eric both watched my face. I found the information overwhelming, repulsive, and, worst of all, seductive. The ability to create a warrior that could do things no living person could meant accomplishing impossible tasks. A nekkeht could be used to bring supplies to a caravan trapped by snow in a high pass or rescue miners trapped by a cloud of poison gas deep inside the earth.

  The possibilities were endless and very important. My uneasiness started to evaporate until I remembered that not all uses might be helpful or peaceful. I suddenly felt cold.

  "If I understand what you have told me, the Wizards can implant multiple souls in a body to create a superior creature that can be trained to accomplish a task?" I reached back and rubbed the bruises on my neck with my right hand. "I also gather that these nekkehts are sometimes used on very sensitive tasks where the conditions might be harsh and any connections with the Talions should be avoided."

  His Excellency smiled. "You do understand some of this, but your discretion does us discredit. Nekkehts are not used, generally, as assassins. Assassination is not a tool we need to employ covertly because coercion works so much better—why kill a man when you can, by virtue of compromising information, use him over and over again? Most nekkehts are used to recover certain cargoes from sunken ships or to destroy man-eating animals in remote regions. Growing up you must have heard the ironic stories of a wanted felon and a rogue mountain leopard killing each other—two 'outlaws' finishing each other off in the wild."

  I bowed my head to His Excellency. "I apologize and meant no disrespect, but I needed my worst fears laid to rest. I have heard those tales and did think them 'just' in my youth." I turned to face the Master again.

  "Recently," he began, "we needed a nekkeht. The nature of its mission is not important, but what happened with that nekkeht is. We ordered the apprehension of one particular felon, but a different man was brought in. Because he was a Lurker, and appearance was rather distinctive, no one detected the difference. The Lurker played his part well. He was prepared, killed, and revitalized. We sent him on his way in a Black Wagon."

  I raised an eyebrow. "The Lurker you wanted was not the one you got? And he willingly let someone pull his soul from his body?"

  The Master nodded. "Someone anticipated our need for a nekkeht. The Lurker was an adept and was very skilled in the meditative techniques practiced in Tingis. He allowed himself to be pulled free, then he projected his soul from the Talion's body to avoid capture. His skill allowed him to retain control of his body even when infused with five rhasa souls. While the Justice who had taken his soul was undergoing Shar, we packed the body in a Black Wagon and sent it out. The wagon was two hours gone from Talianna before the Justice realized he no longer had the soul in him."

  I looked down and stared at my feet. I could see all of it happening. The Justice assumed the soul was trapped in his body, and did not check to see if it was or not until he tried to empty the soul into the Skull. By then it was too late. "Once the nekkeht was clear of Talianna, he exerted control and used his new power to escape."

  The Master nodded, rose, and beckoned us to follow. We walked behind the throne and through a doorway I'd never known to exist. The Master led us into a bare round room with large doors leading out toward one of the exercise yards. In the center of the room sagged the wreckage of the Black Wagon.

  I'd once seen a tin box in which a Wizard tried to trap a demon. In theory the box had symbols on it that rendered the demon powerless. They didn't. The demon dented the box's sides out and clawed rents clean through them. The two of us dispatched the demon before it could win free, and I swore nothing would impress me as much as the condition of that box, but the remnants of the Black Wagon pushed the tin box from my mind.

  The Black Wagons were built by layering steel plates over wooden frames. They had very heavy suspension and were made to transport anything through hostile territory without damage. They had to be drawn by six draft horses and carried food, fodder, water, and repair equipment that made each of them virtually self-sufficient for at least the trip from Talianna to its destination. Only the Elites who drove them knew what they hauled, but no Black Wagon, in my memory, had ever suffered more than a broken wheel or a lame horse.

  The shattered ends of wooden ribs blossomed through gaping holes in the steel plating. At points the plates were just warped, and at others they were ripped and peeled back. Some dents clearly showed the outlines of a fist or foot. The roof was humped like a camel and a kick aimed straight down through the floor broke the forward axle cleanly.

  It reminded me of a toy battered and smashed by an angry child. It had literally been destroyed from the inside out.

  The Master stood the closest to it and looked as though he carried its full weight on his shoulders. "We lost three Elites. The driver and his partner were killed when it reached through the front viewport and crushed their spines. The third died when he stooped his Hawk at the nekkeht. It dodged the attack and broke the Hawk's wing. The bird slammed hard into the ground; its rider broke his neck when he hit."

  I shook my head. "The fourth Elite returned here to tell you what happened?"

  The Master nodded. "He wanted to head out after it, but that would have been futile." He walked back toward the throne room and we joined his exodus. I followed last and took one final look at the wagon. I shuddered and rubbed my neck again.

  We all returned to our chairs and I leaned forward. "Forgive me, but I assume from what I heard earlier that a plan to find and destroy this nekkeht has already been organized. This means, I would guess, that you have a good idea where it is, and what it is going to be used for."

  The Master actually smiled. He nodded at His Excellency.

  The rotund man shifted in his chair, cleared his throat, and half closed his eyes. "Before we get into any details of your assignment, we must make sure you understand how the nekkeht has to be destroyed. Its destruction is the focus of your mission. If you cannot accomplish that, anything else you might be able to do will make no difference in the great scheme of things. You must understand this first, very important point."

  I sat up straight and nodded solemnly.

  His Excellency continued. "While your destruction of Rostoth's body did eliminate it as a viable assailant, such treatment will not work on this nekkeht. With the extra souls, and the ability to control them, this nekkeht can heal its own injuries. In the same way that you have been trained to concentrate to deaden pain or stop bleeding in a minor wound, the nekkeht can employ the energy in the extra s
ouls to speed healing almost as fast as you can wound him.

  "If it had the training to concentrate on what it was doing, Rostoth could have healed almost all the damage you did in the time it took Lord Hansur to finish it. Physical destruction will not eliminate the nekkeht you are to pursue."

  I looked down at my right palm. "To kill it I must drain it of its souls."

  His Excellency raised a cautionary hand. "You will have to do more than that, Nolan. You must drain it while it is physically active or engaged in some task that prevents meditation or concentration. If the nekkeht can project its soul out and away from your attempt at draining it, it might be able to battle you for those souls."

  I nodded. "Also it would still retain the knowledge of nekkeht and that is something I need to prevent?"

  "Bah!" Lord Eric exploded. His voice was harsh and his tone derisive. "How can we expect him to do this? He questions the obvious!"

  I turned and snarled. "I am a Justice. I have to ask questions so I can understand all I am to do. I cannot do what the Master wants if I do not know his wishes."

  Lord Eric narrowed his eyes. "You failed to slay the nekkeht before even though the command was clear."

  My fists knotted in frustration. "I did what I thought would kill the creature. I've not stopped to make sure life has drained from each person I've had to kill before I moved on to the next. For all I know a dozen criminals recovered from their wounds and are all planning to get me the next time I ride from Talianna."

  "They'd be led by Morai, I have no doubt!"

  Lord Eric's words struck me like a gauntlet in a duelist's hand, but I did not rise to the challenge. I let a breath out slowly and turned to the Master. "What is more important, stopping the nekkeht or preventing knowledge of nekkehts from becoming common?" I forced my hands to relax and wiped them on my pant legs. "Who can be trusted with that information? If a village learns of it do I burn the village?"

  Lord Eric rose from his chair to protest but the Master waved him back down. "Lord Eric, Nolan's questions are justified." The Master gave Lord Eric a moment to calm himself before he answered me.

  "Your primary task is to destroy the nekkeht. In addition, the death of any confederates who understand what has happened would be appropriate. The destruction of innocents would be up to you, subject to your assessment of their ability to repeat the series of events that started this whole regrettable scenario. Certainly a whole village should not be destroyed, but the death of an inquisitive soldier or minister would not be too much if it would keep the secret intact."

  "Thank you for the clarification. I hope your trust in my judgment will not be put to the test." I looked over at His Excellency. "I remember something being said earlier about a limit on the time the extra souls stay with the body."

  His Excellency pursed his lips. "There are too many hidden factors to make any assessment of time limit possible. Because of his skill the Lurker may be able to keep the souls with him indefinitely. Still, in the past, the souls have never remained for more than eight weeks."

  Unconsciously I stroked my growing beard with my left hand. "I have to assume the nekkeht is being used as an assassin. If it was out after some hidden treasure you could create another nekkeht to oppose it. You'll put me close to the intended victim and I'll stop it before it kills." I nodded, but inside I knew it was easier said than done. "Who is it?"

  His Excellency steepled his fingers. "King Tirrell of Hamis."

  I sat back and closed my eyes. They wanted me to protect the man who had taken my nation. My family was dead by his hand, and they wanted me to stop someone from killing him. I shook my head in disbelief. "No, I can't do it."

  Lord Eric stood up, ready to explode. The Master watched me. He waited for an explanation, but words stopped up behind the lump in my throat. Only His Excellency did not react. He just sat there, stared at his fingers, and worried me.

  I looked up at the Master. "I cannot do it."

  Lord Eric sputtered with frustration. "We go through all this just to have him refuse! This is utter madness. Master, order him to comply and be done with this nonsense."

  "No!" I shouted. "With all due respect, Lord Eric, I am a Justice. My work calls for judgment, not blind obedience to orders. The Master would never order me to hunt down my own kin. If I cannot be sure I will be able to complete a mission, I have the right to refuse it. If I have any reservations at all I might hesitate at a crucial moment, and that would kill me and the assignment at the same time."

  Lord Eric's face flushed bright red. "Such insolence! If you were in my command..."

  "Don't you understand, I'm not under your command? I'm a Justice!" I turned to the Master. "I'm not the only one who can do the job. There are other Justices ..."

  The Master spoke in a low voice. "We sent another."

  I stopped. Suddenly I went cold and felt as if someone had just walked on my grave. "Marana?"

  His Excellency replied to my question. He'd been waiting. He'd baited the trap, and I'd blundered into it like a blind, hungry mongrel cur. "She was killed in Hamis three weeks ago. We just got word from the Lancer Captain attached to the court. She was cremated because there was not enough left of her to send back for burial."

  As crude and brutal as his description was, it did not shock me. I felt nothing. I was absolutely numb. I tried desperately to recall a mental picture of Marana, but all I could remember was my terror in the Darkmaze and knew her last moments had been full of it.

  I stared at His Excellency. You bastard, you calculating bastard. I swore "never again," but you did it. I covered my face with my hands to snatch a moment's refuge and get a grip on myself. I pulled my hands away, bowed my head to the Master, and forced my reply past the thickness of my throat.

  "I will do as you ask."

  Chapter Ten

  Novice: Sixteen

  I could not breathe for fear the steam I'd produce would alert them. Though the icy wind snatched away every word they spoke, I knew they stood only a yard or two from where I lay hidden in a frozen snowbank. I knew because I could feel the vibration of their steps as they punched through the snowy crust. In a second or two they would discover where I'd burrowed beneath the crust, but by then it would be too late.

  I'm sure I smiled but my face was too numb to feel it. These Fourteens had been hunting us, Marana and me, for the past three days. This group's leader was an Elite, and he took great delight in making order and sense out of the tangle of tracks Marana and I struggled to create in eluding them. Late in the previous day we shook them, which pleased us because they nearly tracked us to our camp, and through the night we labored to prepare this welcome for them.

  A black-booted foot crashed through the snow beside me. I grabbed it and rolled forward to spill the Fourteen connected to it onto her face. I exploded up out of the snow, roughly cuffed her head to signify her "death," then turned on her companion.

  That Fourteen whirled and, despite the look of surprise on his face, swung his walking stick at me. I caught the blow with my left hand, stepped in, and drove my fist rather ungently into his stomach. He doubled over, more to move with the blow than because I'd hurt him, and that left him open. I slapped him across the head as I'd hit the first Fourteen so he flopped wordlessly to the snow.

  I knelt and recovered the pouch full of snowballs the first Fourteen had almost crushed when she broke through the crust. I looked back along the track these two had made up the small hillside overlooking the roadway through this section of forest. I could see no one but, now above the snow, I could hear snatches of conversation—more noise than words. Beyond them, in the snowbank opposite mine, I knew Marana waited. I couldn't see her, but I knew she could see me, so I made a sign and arced a snowball back toward the voices.

  Luck guided the throw. "Hey!" I heard someone shout. Then he added, "Uh-oh! I'm out."

  A couple of other people shouted; then the first of them ran up the hill, and straight into another snowball. I hit him in the foreh
ead, and the look of astonishment on his face as the snowball exploded into hundreds of fragments drove a chuckle from me. He reeled backward as if I'd hit him with a rock—probably hoping for a reduced ransom price because of his acting—and spun out of sight.

  Two snowballs curved up over the hill edge but both flew wide of the mark. I took two steps to my right, getting closer to the road itself, and threw two more snowballs. I hit no one but, from the cursing I heard, I came close. More of their snowballs flew over the hill in retaliation, but again they did not hit.

  Then I heard new screams of outrage. I sprinted forward, running a dangerous straight line course toward the Fourteens, but I expected no resistance. They had their hands full.

  I started down the hillside and waved. Marana stood alone amid the scattered bodies of seven Fourteens. The pair that looked most unhappy had fallen when Marana stepped from the snowbank. They lay flanking her outline. The other four looked a bit more affable, and one claimed he would have fought, but when he saw the facial expressions on his two comrades he couldn't stop laughing.

  Someone yelled to the two Fourteens I'd killed and they wandered down to join us. The group huddled against the wind and waited for us to set their ransoms. Marana and I were generous and asked the standard six Imperials for each. A couple of them grumbled about having to do extra duty to buy back into the exercise, but the others just shrugged it off.

  They turned to depart, but the Elite hesitated. He was the one I'd eliminated with the blindly thrown snowball. "Not bad." He grinned as he looked the ambush point over one last time. "I'll remember this for next year." He rejoined his squad and turned back one last time. "See you tomorrow!"

  The lords designed the Winter Game as an exercise to make Justices resourceful and independent of support. They divided Justice Sixteens into pairs by lot and sent them out to survive for a month in the Tal Mountains. In addition to battling the elements and gathering food, all the Thirteens, Fourteens, and Fifteens headed out, one set per week, to harass the Justices and try to capture them.