Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) (35 page)

“I trust you know your way, milady.”  He bowed low.

“I do.  Thank you, Joffie.”  She ushered them
forward, and the door closed behind them.

“The shop’s a front?”  The cavern had been hewn from
the living stone, the walls polished smooth.  Rows of barrels, each wider than
Lad was tall, stretched into the darkness, and the air smelled of oak and wine.

“Not at all.”  Lady T gestured to the barrels.  “The
guild bought the winery decades ago.  It brings in quite a good income, but
even Joffie doesn’t know who
really
owns it.”

“I see,” Lad said.  It made sense, considering the
secrecy around the Grandmaster’s identity.  “Will the Grandmaster meet us
here?”

“Hardly.”  Lady T stopped at the eighteenth barrel
on the left, and bent to press her ring into a seemingly undistinguished spot
on the support block of the massive tun.  The wedge of stone receded into the
floor, and the huge barrel rolled two feet to the right, revealing a dark
passage.  She handed the lamp to Lad.  “Please proceed and wait on the other
side.  I have to secure the door.”

Lad didn’t need the lantern, of course, but
complied.  He and Mya stepped through a short, narrow passage and into a
featureless square room.  A loud click and rumble signified the wine barrel
rolling back into place.

Lady T arrived.  “Cozy, isn’t it?”  Despite her
smile and casual manner, her voice trembled with anxiety, and her hand quivered
slightly as she raised it and pressed her guildmaster’s ring into a tiny niche
where two of the walls met.  A seam opened in the middle of the north wall, so
fine a joining that even Lad had not noticed it.  The thick slabs of stone
moved aside without a sound.  Beyond, a smooth passage stretched into darkness.

“Of course,” Mya said, nodding to the wall.  “Only
guildmasters meet with the Grandmaster, so the passage is keyed to their
rings.”

“The stonework…”  Lad ran a finger down the edge of
the block that had moved.  As smooth as glass and not a hint of wear.  He’d
been trained to recognize such workmanship…and the traps they concealed. 
“Dwarven?”

“You’re both observant.”  Lady T put her lantern on
the floor and gestured into the passage.  “If you would step inside, I’ll close
the door.”

Mya flinched as cool white light—sourceless and
casting no shadows—lit the passage. 
Magic
.  It seemed to Lad an
extravagance when a simple torch or glow crystal would do.

“This way.”  Lady T strode past them without looking
back, the strange illumination brightening before her as she went.

“Not that there’s any other way to go,” Mya
whispered so quietly that only the two of them could hear.

“Come on,” he whispered back, and they proceeded
side by side. The strange illumination brightened before them and faded behind,
so that they seemed to walk but never get anywhere.

After several minutes, Lad looked around curiously. 
He had assumed that the passage would turn east into the hill of the Heights
District, perhaps emerging in one of the lavish estates.  And yet, his unerring
sense of direction told him that the path continued north, angling upward at a
precise angle into the bluff. 

Where the hell are we going
?

On and on they walked.  No one spoke, each lost in
their own thoughts.  For Lad’s part, he wondered about Mya, her evasions, her
promise to help him.  Was it real, or was she plotting something to her own
advantage?  What would her fear motivate her to do?  Could he trust her?

At last they reached a switchback in the tunnel, and
Lad’s suspicions were confirmed.  The maps from Mya’s book clear in his head,
he stopped and looked up.

Mya stopped as well, looking back at him askance. 
“What?”

Lady T halted and turned, her mien impatient.  “Is
there a problem?”

“We’re under the palace.”

The Tsing guildmaster’s features twitched with
surprise, quickly lapsing back to irritation.  “Yes, we are.  Now follow me. 
We mustn’t keep the Grandmaster waiting.”  She strode on without another glance
back.

Lad’s mind whirled.  The Grandmaster resided in the
palace?  It struck him as the ultimate audacity, or the pinnacle of
foolishness.  Why?  Who was he?  A royal adviser, guard, servant, or chamberlain? 
Lad could no longer contain his curiosity.

“Who is he?” 

Lady T didn’t even look back.  “Patience.  You’ll
find out soon enough.”

“Why not just tell us?”

“Because it’s not my information to give.”  Her
clipped tone edged toward anger.

“But—”

Mya put a hand on Lad’s arm and shot him a warning
glance.  The fearful plea in her eyes silenced him.  She was right; they would
learn the Grandmaster’s identity soon enough, and badgering Lady T for
information would only buy them trouble.

They followed in silence.

Another switchback, and the echo of their footsteps
changed.  They were coming to the end of the tunnel.  Lad gauged that they’d
ascended some two-hundred feet from the wine shop.  The passage ended as it had
begun, with a featureless wall.  This time, Lad spotted the niche that would
accommodate the guildmaster’s ring before Lady T raised her hand and pressed it
home.  Two massive stone slabs moved aside in utter silence.  When the doors
stopped moving, the light of the passage behind them extinguished.

Ahead gaped another wide, stone corridor, but this
one wasn’t dwarf-wrought.  Imperfections betrayed the less-skilled stonework of
men.  The light here was the soft, warm flicker of wall-mounted lamps.

“Come.”  Lady T strode forward.

Three swordsmen stepped from the shadows beyond the light.

Lad tensed, and he heard Mya draw a sharp breath,
but the swordsmen showed no signs of aggression.  All were tall and lithe, with
broad shoulders and hard eyes.  They wore the livery of imperial guards, with
an insignia on the left shoulder: a golden circle surrounding a blue and silver
sword.  Lad knew the device from his training: they were blademasters of Koss
Godslayer.  Trained from birth and imbued with their god’s gifts, they
represented the apex of fighting prowess.

“Blademasters?  You’re
kidding
me.”

Lad turned at the incredulity in Mya’s tone.  She
had evidently recognized them, too.

“I have never
kidded
anyone in my life.” 
Lady T nodded to the blademasters.  “Now these men will search you for
weapons.  I truly hope you followed my advice.”

Two of the blademasters approached.  The third stood
back, his sharp eyes inspecting Lad and Mya as if he saw right through them. 
The search was professionally inquisitive and thorough.  Lad wasn’t bothered in
the slightest, even though they took his cane away, but he wondered how Mya
would endure the search. She tolerated little more than a handshake from her
closest associates.  Though she stood completely still, the muscles of her neck
tensed as the guard probed the folds of her dress, even forcing her legs apart
to explore between.  He inspected her shoes, her hat, and finally her
unyielding corset.  He rapped the hard stays with his knuckles and frowned.

“They’re called
stays
.”  Mya’s voice sounded
stoic, but Lad knew her.  The pounding pulse at her temple, the flush of her
skin, and the imperceptible tremble of her chin gave her away.  She was
terrified.  But in typical Mya fashion, she bluffed her way through.  “I’ll
take it off, if you like, but I don’t think the Grandmaster would appreciate meeting
me if I was disrobed to the waist.”  Her gaze slid over to Lady T.  “Or maybe
he
would
.”

“Enough.”  Lady T waved the blademasters back with a
flicker of something akin to sympathy in her eyes.  She had undoubtedly felt
those probing fingers often enough.  “A corset’s not a weapon, and neither of
them can harm your master anyway.  Take them to him; he’s waiting.”

Their master
?  Lad’s mind raced. 
They’re
imperial bodyguards
!  Since the empress had died decades ago, and there was
only one heir, that narrowed possibilities down to two. 
Impossible
…

Lady T turned to Lad with a thin smile.  “Good
luck.”

“Thank you,” he said, more out of habit than true
gratitude.

The Tsing guildmaster’s tense shoulders relaxed as
she stepped into the passage leading back to the wine shop and the door closed
silently behind her.  Lad wondered why she had been so nervous.

The lead blademaster gestured and turned.  Lad and
Mya fell in line behind him, and the other two flanked them as they started
down the corridor.

Lad tried to relax and focus. 
Think like an
assassin
. 
Remember the plan
. 
Patience…  The truth is coming.

I
t can’t be
,
Mya insisted to herself.  She took as deep a breath as the thrice-cursed corset
would allow, and let it out slowly, but still her heart hammered.  The
Grandmaster couldn’t be some low-level courtier or advisor.  Lady T had
mentioned the blademasters’ master.  That meant either the person they’d been
assigned to protect, or the head of their order.  The notion of a mute, illiterate
Grandmaster was ludicrous, and imperial guards were only assigned to the
imperial family.

The crown prince?
  But they were in the dungeon;
the faint odor of human confinement confirmed it beyond doubt.  What would a
prince be doing in the dungeon?

Gradually, the odor of confinement faded, and more
enticing aromas filled the air.  Meat, bread, spices; despite her fear, Mya’s
mouth began to water.  Her stomach had been too roiled to attempt lunch, and
breakfast had been many hours ago.

The blademaster led them to a pair of heavy double
doors and knocked in a complex staccato.  A latch clicked and the door opened. 
Yet another blademaster peered out, his hard eyes inspecting them.

Four
? 
Four blademasters
? 
Mya’s head swam. 
It can’t be
…

The man stepped aside, pulling open the door and
gesturing them inside.  Mya’s breath came short, but she didn’t know if it was
from the constricting corset or her fear of finally meeting the Grandmaster. 
Just
don’t faint
…  She moved inexorably forward as if drawn by an invisible
shackle and chain.

The sight that met her eyes was unexpected, to say
the least.

A table stretched before them, the white linen cloth
arrayed with porcelain plates, silver utensils, and crystal goblets.  Four
servants in simple white smocks stood before a sideboard heavy with
silver-domed platters.  To the left stood a man in crimson robes, the cowl
pulled back to reveal a stern mien and dark eyes.  Another blademaster—
Five
!—stood
behind the high-backed chair at the end of the table.  And in the chair sat an
elderly man in blue and gold robes.  Atop his silver hair rested a circlet of
gold set with blood-red rubies.

It can’t be
…

“Welcome.”  Without rising, the silver-haired man
gestured to the two other chairs at the table.  “Guildmaster Lad, Master Hunter
Mya, please join me.  I am, as you may have already guessed, the master of our
illustrious guild.”

Mya stood stunned.  She knew that face.  How could
she not?  She saw it whenever she pulled a coin from her pocket. 
Emperor
…
and
Grandmaster
, she confirmed as she spied the gold and obsidian ring on his
finger.

She dropped into a deep curtsy, her eyes cast down. 
“Your Majesty.”

Beside her, Lad stood like a statue, unbending.  She
dare not look up, though she longed to shake him out of his paralysis.  This
was much worse than she could have imagined.  How could they conceive of
manipulating the man who ruled the entire empire!

“Well, I see that at least
one
of you
recognizes me, and knows the proper deference to show an emperor.”

“Emperor?”  Lad sounded puzzled.  “Your pardon,
Grandmaster, but I don’t understand how…how you can be emperor
and
Grandmaster?”

“
How
?”  Annoyance edged the word.  “Suffice
to say that I
am
both emperor and Grandmaster.  As such, your life is
mine to
spend
, Guildmaster Lad.  It would be wise to show proper
respect.”

“Of course.”  Lad bowed briefly.  “But…should I call
you Your Majesty, or Grandmaster?

Gods, he’s overdoing it
!  Their plan was for Lad to act
naïve, not clueless.  He ought to be good at it by now.  He’d done it for five
years as her bodyguard: simple, literal, and socially inept.  It had led her to
underestimate him.  That was what they needed now, not blatant idiocy.

“Ha!”  The Grandmaster’s humorless bark of laughter
startled Mya.  “I was told that you had expanded your faculties beyond that of
a simple weapon, but I daresay those tales were exaggerated!”

“I meant no offense, Grandmaster.”

“No, I don’t suppose you did.”  Several heartbeats of
silence.  “No matter.  We’re here to discuss guild business, so you’ll both
address me as Grandmaster.  In the unlikely event that you
ever
encounter me in public, however, you will address me as is befitting an
emperor.  Is that clear?”

“Perfectly clear, Grandmaster.”

“Good.  Now, Lad, Mya, join me at table, and we’ll
discuss a few things.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”  Mya rose from her curtsy, but
kept her eyes averted from the old man’s face, hoping that Lad’s poor first
impression Lad wouldn’t doom her, too.

The servants directed Mya to the seat to the
Grandmaster’s left, and Lad to his right.  The five blademasters stationed
themselves behind and to each side of their master, and one each behind Lad and
Mya.  Without a word, the servants began to pour wine from crystal carafes into
their goblets and plate out generous portions of food.

“First, let me introduce my intermediary, Hoseph.” 
The Grandmaster indicated the crimson-robed man who hadn’t been invited to
sit.  Hoseph didn’t seem to regard the omission as a slight, but bowed in
recognition.  “As a high priest of Demia, he holds no rank within the guild,
but his skills are indispensable.  He will be your primary contact.  Questions
or requests for me will go through him.  His voice is my voice, his commands
are my commands.  He is, you might say, my right hand.”

“The right hand of death.”

Lad’s words startled Mya as she recalled the phrase
he had attributed to Norwood’s would-be assassin.  Lad cocked his head
inquisitively, inspecting the priest, and she followed his gaze.  Though
Hoseph’s expression remained mild, his eyes regarded Lad with cold calculation.

Lad continued, “You killed Baron Patino.”

“Actually,
I
killed Baron Patino,” the
Grandmaster corrected, sipping his wine with a contemplative air.  “Hoseph
simply delivered the sentence.  And I would have killed that bothersome Captain
Norwood as well, if you hadn’t intervened.  Which begs the question: why
did
you intervene?” 

From the undertone of menace, the Grandmaster did
not appreciate being thwarted.

“I was using Captain Norwood as a source of
information, Grandmaster.  Had I known the attempt on his life was arranged by
you, I would have acted differently.”  Lad looked back to Hoseph.  “How’s your
arm?”

“Quite well, thank you.”

As a servant placed a luscious filet of beef on
Mya’s plate, she noted the ghastly thin wrists below his sleeves.  All the
servants were just as thin, even skeletal, their eyes deeply sunken in their
sockets.  Their simple clothing also was not at all what she imagined palace
servants would wear.  They couldn’t help but overhear guild business, and they
certainly knew the Grandmaster’s identity. 
But why starve them
?

“I can see that you’re concerned about the servants,
Mya.”

Her eyes snapped to his for an instant, then back to
her plate.  “Yes, Grandmaster.”

“Don’t be.  These are men who have, for one reason
or another, incurred my wrath.  I’ve spared their lives in exchange for their
service.  Unlike my blademasters, they still have their tongues, but you
needn’t worry about them telling stories.  They never leave this area, and
never will.  They’re already dead to the world, you see.  They just haven’t
stopped breathing yet.”  The Grandmaster raised his wine glass.  “But enough of
that!  I propose a toast to new beginnings, a welcome to my newest
guildmaster.  And you, too, Master Hunter Mya, of course.”

Lad and Mya raised their glasses.  Mya sipped,
though she longed to down the entire glass to steady her nerves.  The exquisite
vintage cleared her dry mouth with a heady rush of flavors.  The food was just
as wonderful, but it may as well have been chalk for all that she enjoyed it.

The emperor ate with relish, the servants attentive
to his every move.  He spoke between bites and sips of wine.  “You have both
proven yourselves capable of command, but now you must try to see the larger
picture.  The Assassins Guild has far-reaching goals, and its leaders must be
farsighted.  The guild was once like many others; a powerful but simple
criminal organization focused on profit.  My predecessor envisioned something
greater, and recruited a young crown prince into her fold.  I was groomed to
assume command, to change the guild into something never previously
contemplated.  And her ploy worked.  With my father’s untimely death…”

The corner of Tynean Tsing’s mouth twitched, leaving
Mya no doubt about who had arranged that death. 
We have something in common
. 
The thought both terrified and intrigued her.

“…I became the most powerful human in history.”

“You play both sides of the same coin.”  The words
tumbled from Mya’s lips of their own volition, but she found herself unable to
stop.  It was just too perfect.  “Law and crime, succor and fear, life and
death…  You win every toss.  It’s…brilliant.”

“Precisely, Mya.”  The Grandmaster raised his glass
to her, one silver eyebrow arched in pleased admiration.  “You grasp the
perfection of our arrangement.”

To Mya’s surprise, she found herself flushing with
pleasure at the recognition, and raised her own glass.  As they sipped, their
eyes locked, and she realized that her fear had ebbed.  She was still nervous,
but the terror was gone. 
This might actually work out
.

“I don’t understand.”  Lad’s eyes flicked from Mya
to the Grandmaster and back.

“No, I see that you don’t.”  The emperor placed his
goblet delicately on the table and steepled his fingers, his mouth set in an
aggravated moue.  “Understand this, if you can.  I’ve created the perfect
system of governance.  History tells us that empires rise and fall at the whim
of the people; when oppressed, they rebel, if given too much freedom, they want
more.  I have discovered a way to break that cycle.  Empowering my nobility
with immunity from prosecution devotes them to my cause.  They flock to my
court, willing to do anything to maintain their status.  If that includes
paying higher taxes or instituting my edicts in their provinces, so be it.  Of
course, such free rein for the nobility induces resentment in the lower
classes.  That’s where the Assassins Guild comes in.  They keep the general
populace under control, ferreting out and crushing the seeds of rebellion
before they sprout.  I hold the reins to both the empire
and
the guild;
absolute power and utter control.”  He sat back with a self-satisfied smile.

“I…see.”  Lad took a bite of his meal, washed it
down with a sip of wine, then looked back at the Grandmaster.  “So, you rule by
fear.  The commoners fear for their lives, and the nobles fear for their
privileges.”

The Grandmaster cocked an eyebrow.  “I’m impressed,
Lad.  You
do
understand.”

“But it’s not a permanent arrangement.  Fear is a
poor motivator, and you won’t live forever.”

He’s going too far
.  Mya shot Lad a warning glance,
but he wasn’t looking at her.

“Fear is an
excellent
motivator!” the Grandmaster
insisted, his eyes flinty at Lad’s evident disapproval.  “And I will live…long
enough.  My son has proven inadequate to inherit either of my offices.  Once he
has produced an heir, he’ll be eliminated, and I’ll take my grandson or
granddaughter under my wing and teach them what true power is.  The line of
Imperial Grandmasters will continue.”

Mya felt suddenly sick, and Lad voiced the question
that she dare not ask.  “You would kill your own
son
?”

Tyrean Tsing dropped his fork noisily onto his
plate, his displeasure clear.  “I can see why you think fear is a poor
motivator, for you obviously have an impaired sense of what
should
be
feared.  I know this isn’t your fault, but a result of the manner of your
creation.  Saliez wanted a weapon without fear, and he got one.”