Dark Legion (47 page)

“Where to?” I asked.

“We go back to the tavern, grab some supplies, then get out of here,” Marcus said.

 

As we made our way up the steps to the Bleeding Wolf, I wondered what we would find. I suspected a crowded tavern, however, I opened the door to just three occupants. The new barman, whose name I could not recall, was cleaning glasses, and Adair and Malakai sat at a table by the window—our table.

The reflection in the mirror behind the bar caught my attention as I walked past, and it scared the shit out of me. I paused a moment to make sure I wasn't imagining the apparition. Painted dark red in dried blood, some my own and some not, my shirt was torn open, the hole left by the nail was raw, and my nose was crooked thanks to Solas. I feared it would look like Marcus's when it healed. While my bruises could not be seen through the blood that covered me, I felt them all the same.

I approached the table, and Adair looked concerned. Malakai on the other hand was beaming one of his irritating smiles. “You made it,” Malakai said, and I nodded. “I trust you got what you were searching for?”

I could not help but smile. I had succeeded, though I had barely spared a thought for it. I hadn't had the time or the energy. Reaching into my satchel, I grabbed the manuscripts Neysa had gathered and dropped them onto the table with a loud thwack. The books were odd. My eyes refused to focus on the characters, and they appeared to shift when I tried to read them. It was exactly how Marcus had described my own book. Malakai merely glanced down at the manuscripts and nodded.

I next reached in and took out the crown. It rolled in a small circle for a moment before clattering to the table. The moment felt underwhelming, but the crown and I had some ways to travel yet. Malakai looked down at my hand and smiled when he saw the ring, nodding.

“Enjoyed the ride back?” Malakai asked. I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Perhaps an invention before its time,” he said.

“Got any ideas on how we can get away?” Marcus asked.

“I do,” Adair said. “There is a shipment of ale going to Qash at first light. They are loading the barrels tonight and casting off in an hour or two. I suggest you find yourself within some empty barrels, at least until you are on your way.”

I looked at Marcus, who nodded. “A good plan,” I said. My muscles, already sore, ached with the thought of being squashed into a barrel like some dried goods. I looked at Malakai, hoping that he would suggest we take one of his magical trips to his house instead, but he remained quiet.

“Well, I suggest you get changed and grab a quick meal,” Adair said. “I will fetch something for you while you get dressed.”

I wished that time afforded me a bath, but I had no such luck. I looked down at my filth, my shirt torn open, and the blood….

 

I returned a few minutes later and felt like a new man. A tired, beat-up man, but better. It was remarkable what a change of clothes and some time with a wet rag could do. Neysa and Marcus were already seated at the table, wolfing down the bread that Adair had fetched for us. It was delicious, probably the best meal I had ever had, as basic as it was. Though the ale was watered down, it went down a treat. We ate quickly, and too much. My guts hurt and protested at the assault.

“Before you depart,” Adair said, “I wanted to speak to you about the Bleeding Wolf. I hope you don't mind, but I have taken the liberty of preparing some papers.”

“What papers?” I asked.

“Sale of business papers,” Adair said.

“And who are we selling it to, may I ask? You?”

Adair shook his head. “When you sign, the Bleeding Wolf will be owned by another business. A business by the name of Asad Trading Company.”

“Asad? Never heard of them.”

“Really? That's funny, you own it,” Adair said with a wicked grin. “Or you will. Look, I thought that your business with the emperor would have unwanted consequences for the Bleeding Wolf. I want to see it continue on. So I created a dozen different businesses, each owning the other. At the very top of this pyramid is Asad.” Adair slid the sheets of paper between Marcus and me, and we peered down at them. I noticed that the documents were backdated.

“Sounds good,” I said, looking at Marcus, who nodded. “Get some ink.”

 

We signed the agreements, along with a small stack of others, forming and dissolving various business names. More than the dozen that Adair had mentioned. Business concluded, we made our way down to the brewhouse with Adair and Malakai. Adair rolled out two of the largest barrels, stood them upright, and took off the lids. I scowled at the barrels, then went to find the privy. It would be a mess in there if nature called. Marcus followed suit when I returned.

“Change of plan,” Neysa said. “I'm coming with you.”

“What of your plans to study with Malakai?” I asked.

“That can wait. I don't want to be away from you,” Neysa said, and hugged me tight. Her hair tickled my face, and I ran my fingers through it. By the Gods, I loved the smell of her. “I love you, Saul.”

“And I you,” I said for the first time. She squeezed me tighter, and it hurt, in more ways than just the physical. I did not want her to postpone her own dreams for my sake, as much as I wanted her with me. But I doubted she could be argued with; she was as stubborn as a mule. Besides, I had no idea where our journey would take us. I cared too much for her to let her risk her life without good reason. I thought to use her true name to command her to stay. In the end, though, I could not bring myself to do it, so I took a pin from my sleeve, and caught Malakai's eye. Malakai nodded. “Neysa… you can't come with me, not now.”

“What?” Neysa spat. “And you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do?” She pulled back from me, but I kept my arms locked behind her.

“I'm sure Malakai can arrange for us to meet up again soon,” I said. “But for now, go with him. Learn what you can.”

“Saul, I won't argue with you about this.”

“Nor I with you,” I said, and jabbed the pin into the back of her neck.

“The hell! You son of a whore,” she yelled, pushing me off her. She reached up and pulled the pin out, scowling. “What in the hells did you do!”

“I'm sorry,” I said. She came at me, her small fists connecting with my chest. I was once again surprised at her strength, and to be honest, it hurt a great deal, not helped by my bruises and what I thought was at least one broken rib. Blessedly, the poison soon took its hold of her, and she grew tired, then clung to me, but still landed the occasional blow. I held onto her as she lost consciousness, and gently laid her down.

“You will take her with you?” I asked of Malakai.

“Of course, child,” Malakai said. “Though I doubt she will appreciate this gesture.”

“I suspect she will hate me for it,” I said. I approached one of the barrels and climbed in. I took the new waterskin from my belt, placed it against one side, and sat down with my satchel on my lap.

 

Marcus arrived and looked down at Neysa on the floor. “It's under control,” Malakai said. “Get in your barrel.”

“Before I do,” Marcus said. “You should look at this.” He unfastened the Inquisitor's sword and handed it to Malakai.

Malakai pulled it from the scabbard, and paid particular attention to the mercury pommel. “This is a worry.”

“The process by which they gain the mercury is much more troubling,” I said. “He has been burning his pupils at the academy. I'm assuming the silver tattoos the sorcerers sport have the same origins.”

Malakai nodded. “Solas needs to be stopped.”

“Done,” I said. “I walked in here covered in his blood.”

Malakai looked truly surprised. I had never seen that expression on his face, and it did not suit him. “And his daughter?” Malakai asked.

“Milliandra is pissed off,” I said. “To put it lightly. She will be out for our blood.”

“This is bad. Solas was a power-hungry tyrant. But he was a good person when compared to his serpent of a daughter. The empire will bleed, I'm afraid.”

The old man's words chilled me, but I found no guilt for what I did. “I suspect there will be war, yes. Not all will stand for an empress, especially not one of her ilk. But I'm more worried about Vesh, myself—he's the puppet master, after all.”

Malakai frowned. “You met, then?” I nodded, hoping he would say more on the subject, but he turned away instead.

“You best get on that ship as soon as you can,” Adair said. Marcus climbed into his barrel, which looked far more cramped than my own, and Malakai handed the sword back.

Adair hammered a few nails through the lids, and took them out again before sealing us up. Light streamed through the small holes above my head. “The lids are lightly sealed,” Adair said. “You should be able to free them without too much fuss. I will load you onto the ship personally. Wouldn't want you to be rolled, now would we?” I heard the man walk off, then the sound of wheels on the timber floor. Marcus grunted as Adair tilted the barrel to get the cart beneath it, and the timber boards creaked in protest as he carted him off.

“Look out for the kronos,” Malakai yelled after him. I raised an eyebrow, forgetting I was sitting in a Gods-damned barrel. “You did what you set out to do,” Malakai said to me. “Well done, child.”

“That I did, but it wasn't easy. Or clean, for that matter.” I said, my voice resonating in the barrel. I felt no animosity for the old man. Not anymore. I had a sense that there were bigger things playing out, things I had only seen the surface of. And Marcus was right—I was a hypocrite. I would stop at nothing to achieve my goals. Provided they aligned with Malakai's, I had no problem with helping him. Vesh was the real enemy, the man who had pulled Solas's strings. “Very messy,” I muttered.

“That's how life is,” Malakai said. “But take heart, your journey has only just commenced. Years from now you may look back at these events and see them for what they were.”

“You mean plunging the empire into chaos?”

“Well,” Malakai said. “Chaos is the natural order of things. All we can do is to try and stay ahead of the avalanche.”

“I feel like I am being swept away by it,” I said.

“You can't expect to cause an avalanche and then to avoid it entirely, now can you, child?”

“It would be nice.”

“What was on that pin?” Malakai asked.

“Just a tranquilizer. It should wear off in half a day.”

“Long enough,” Malakai said.

Adair returned to cart me off.

 

Hours passed, and the cramped barrel only grew smaller. My legs burned, folded as they were, my back ached, and I desperately needed to piss. I longed for the waterskin to my side, but avoided it, knowing it would only make things worse. I occasionally wet my mouth, but that was all.

There had been a commotion a few hours back as the legion had arrived to search the town. From what I could hear, which admittedly wasn't much, no one knew what had happened to us. The general consensus was that we'd fled Sagemont as soon as we'd arrived. The legion briefly searched the cargo hold of our ship but did not go as far as to inspect the contents of the barrels.

 

At long last we heard the ship come to life. Footsteps pattered on the deck above, and orders were yelled and confirmed. In time, the ship started to sway from side to side. Less than an hour after the ship cast off, Marcus groaned in the barrel beside me.

“I need to get out,” Marcus said. I was about to object, but Marcus started thumping on the lid. The thumping went on for quite some time. “I thought Adair said he sealed these lightly?” Marcus asked short of breath, then thumped again.

There was a rush of feet as someone ran down the steps to the hold. I had visions of us floating in the lake, still sealed in our barrels. What a way that would be to go after all I'd endured. They started tapping at the barrels. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Thump, thump, it sounded on my barrel.

“What's this?” someone asked, and walked away. Something slammed into the barrel, and a creaking sound resonated around me before the lid popped off, falling to the floor.

A man stood above me, peering in, his long, braided beard hanging into the barrel like thick ropes, a crowbar in hand. The man looked surprised and glanced to his side. I grabbed his beard, and pulled it down sharply, holding the tip of my dagger just above his Adam's apple.

I maneuvered myself and stood up awkwardly, keeping the dagger in place. My knees were weak, like they were going to buckle at any moment, but I stood more upright when I felt a sharp jab in my side. I jerked my head to the side. A woman bared her teeth at me, and looking down, I saw a dagger in her hand.

“Drop the dagger, or you're dead,” she said, and I did.

The man stepped back, rubbing at his throat.

“Got any mates, stowaway?” the sailor asked, holding my own dagger at me. I tilted my head at the barrel beside me. “Keep him where he is,” the man said, then took off up the steps. It was still night, and the sound of laughter drifted down at me. The sailors were drinking before setting sail at first light, traditions and all that.