Dark Legion (12 page)

Our walk through Sagemont did not have a particular destination in mind, but we ended up at the docks. In Sagemont, all roads led there, so it was only natural.

“Shouldn't we be staying clear of the docks?” Marcus asked. “Last time you got bent out of shape by the presence of the centurion.”

“I don't think we need to worry about him,” I said. “I doubt he'll have much to say if we ran into him.”

Marcus looked confused by my words, but we kept walking. We arrived at the docks and looked at the warehouse. Six guards still stood watch, and some dock workers were in the process of moving one of the large crates into the warehouse. It barely fit through the giant doors. I could still see a few crates on the imperial ship, but I reckoned they would have them off and into the warehouse soon. We really did not have much time. I scanned the crowd as we walked beside the port and stopped in my tracks when we came to the empty noticeboard. I was smiling as I turned to Marcus.

“What?” Marcus asked.

“Look over there,” I said, pointing at the noticeboard. “I think we may have struck gold.”

Marcus looked and, when he saw what I meant, he turned to me and hugged me. “See, doing good deeds can pay off.” He let me go and ran to the noticeboard. He lifted the man up in a bear hug, leaving his feet dangling.

“Malvin, my friend! It's so good to see you,” Marcus said. “Looking for a job?”

Malvin was startled but nodded. He tapped Marcus on his arms. “Too tight,” he wheezed. Marcus put him back on the ground, and Malvin put his hand on his thigh, clearly still tender. Good, let that remind him of what he owed us. It looked as though he still wore the clothes he was in when we met at the bridge, and his trousers had a patch where Marcus's knife had punctured his thigh.

“So, do you want a job or not?” I asked.

“Yeah, that would be nice. It's bloody hard to work for a living in this town. There are no jobs. I might be able to get work on one of the ships, but they won't be leaving for another few days, probably a week. Man has to eat in the meantime.”

Marcus held him by the shoulders. “It makes me so happy to see you keeping to your word. How are you at driving a carriage?”

“Well, I suppose they're not too different to driving a wagon. I can do that just fine,” Malvin said. “How much are you paying me?”

Marcus looked at me, pleading with his eyes. I initially thought to give the man a gold coin, which was a great deal of money. In the end, I decided to reward Malvin for actually doing as he said and, of course, to shut his damn mouth when the night's work was done.

I sighed. “Two gold coins.”

Malvin's jaw dropped. “No kidding? I would do a lot more than drive a carriage for that much coin. Where is this thing, anyway?”

“We still need to find one. And some horses,” I said.

“I tell you what, with how much you're paying me I can arrange the horse and carriage for you,” Malvin said.

“Okay,” I said. “Make sure it's a nice carriage. As nice as you can find. You can pay for it with the fortune I just gave you. Wait at the service entrance to the Shady Oak Inn at midnight. Don't screw this up, unless you want a quick release from your mortal concerns. This is not an idle threat.”

 

We were about to leave when a large procession came down the street. Dozens of wagons, carriages, men on horses, and legionnaires on foot came down the street in our direction, all to the beat of the drummers that led the way. The imperial banner was dominant, but those of several noble houses were also flown. It was a who's who of arseholes as far as I was concerned. Townsfolk latched onto the procession, which grew with each minute it took to get to the port. We quickly found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of onlookers. When they arrived, the legion went about shoving people back, forcibly in some cases. There was a lot of “oohing and aahing” from the crowd when three figures stepped out of the grandest carriage. It quickly became clear that these three arseholes were in fact the imperial princes. It was the first time I'd seen them in the flesh. I had seen portraits of them, of course, but paint allowed for rather a lot of exaggeration, it seemed. The eldest was barely twenty at a guess, and the youngest maybe fifteen. Kids then. Arsehole kids.

“So,” Marcus said. “I guess the princes are off to rule their provinces?”

“Looks like it.”

Perhaps a third of the men and women from the procession made their way onto the lavish ship, along with all the cargo and supplies. To my surprise, none of the legionnaires joined them. I guessed that they would be met by more at whatever ports they disembarked at. A number of very large but finely dressed men had boarded, so they would not be without protection. In different dress, these men could easily have been doormen at disreputable taverns or gambling dens. The fancy clothes looked plain wrong on them. When everyone was aboard and the large crates had been unloaded to the wharf, the ship left the port and re-anchored some distance offshore.

With nothing left to see, we left for the inn to prepare for that evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Pretty Men

 

“This won't work,” Marcus said. “We're dead men. I don't know why I'm going along with this.”

“By Svyn's balls, shut up and sit still,” I said as I applied ink to the last bare patch on Marcus's forehead. “This plan is pure genius.”

“Dressing up as the Dark Legion, and walking through the door… that is your idea of genius? What makes you think this has any chance of working?”

“Because it's unexpected,” I said. “Who in their right mind would even contemplate pulling off such a stunt? Because it's unthinkable, they won't think of it.”

“You don't think that two men walking up in ladies' bathrobes, claiming to be Inquisitors, will be suspicious? You're mad.”

Marcus was shivering in the cold of night. I refused his requests to get dressed; he had to wait for the ink to dry. You'd think a termite colony had made itself at home in his crotch with how much he was fidgeting. Granted, it had been two hours since I'd started, but still, he wasn't making it any easier.

When we arrived back at our room from the port, we found it empty. Kaleb was gone. All he'd left were his discarded bandages. I couldn't help but worry about the kid, but he'd taken his life into his own hands. He had every right to it, and at least he had his own life to live, however short it may be. I hoped he was on his way to the Great Oasis. I took a step back from Marcus to get a good look at my work.

“In the full light of day, this probably wouldn't work. But, in the middle of the night, they'll be too busy shitting themselves to take a closer look.”

“Like you did this morning?”

“Exactly.”

“Why are you so scared of the Inquisition?” Marcus asked. “I thought they had to hand over the biggest, baddest prisoners to you for interrogation?”

“They scare me because they love what they do. They live for it, and what's worse is that they believe in it.”

I stepped back to add the finishing touches. I'd already painted my own skin, and I reckoned I'd done a good job of it. My hands, wrists, ankles, neck and face were covered in tiny letters. I wondered if I could have gotten away with just painting them black, especially on Marcus, whose skin was just a shade darker than the ink. But I decided not to leave things to chance. I had strong doubts about the bathrobes, though. We'd found the biggest ones we could, and I'd still had to extend Marcus's. I could not help but see them as the ladies' robes that they were, but I refused to admit as much to Marcus. I was nervous, but also excited. I could have the crown and ring in my hands this very night.

“Done,” I said, rolling my shoulders.

“How much time have we got?”

“About an hour. Let's get ready.”

 

The bell struck for curfew, and not long after, I opened the service door at the rear of the inn to peer out. I smiled at Marcus over my shoulder. Malvin was waiting on top of a fabulous carriage. We walked around the carriage to marvel at it. The horses, too, were kitted with full regalia, feathers on their heads and all. Malvin was sitting up top, dressed as smartly as the horses. He had a huge grin on his face and Marcus gave him a thumbs up as he climbed in behind me.

The carriage set off for the port, and I smiled at Marcus. There was a chance that my crazy plan might actually work. All the parts needed to fit and the carriage tied them together. I felt much better about it now that the plan had been set in motion.

As we turned a corner, the carriage came to a halt. I pulled open the curtain, and peered out. “Legion patrol,” I said. “Three men.”

“Halt! Stay where you are,” a legionnaire bellowed. “Who do you think you are to break the emperor's curfew?”

“Follow my lead.” I whispered, stepping out of the carriage. We had rehearsed a few things in the event that we were stopped. I just hoped Marcus could play his part without laughing. I strutted like a peacock, walking a circle around the guards, one at a time. The men looked terrified, eyes on the ground. Marcus stood to the side with his arms crossed. “Who are you to question us?” I asked. “You dare interrupt the emperor's business? Grovel at my feet… and I shall contemplate your fate.” The men fell to their knees, groveling like none had groveled before. “Is it that you harbor a hatred for our beloved emperor? Do you desire to dislodge the gears of his machinations?” I tapped a finger to my lips in mock contemplation. “Why do you seek his displeasure? Answer me, you maggots!”

“We… we were just doing our job, Inquisitor. Doing our service to the emperor. We didn't know…. “

“Silence! What think you, brother? Do we spare them? Or hasten their journey to the final day?” I asked of Marcus.

“Their day of judgment will come soon enough, brother. Leave them to serve the Beloved as best they can for now,” Marcus said.

“So be it,” I said. “As always, you are the embodiment of our emperor's forgiveness, brother. Stand, and be gone!” I said to the legionnaires, then climbed back into the carriage.

Marcus followed me, closed the door, and let out a deep breath. “Gods!” Marcus said.

“You convinced yet?” I asked. I could not believe how well that had worked.

Marcus nodded. “I'm impressed.”

I was too.

 

The carriage pulled up to the side of the warehouse. Marcus and I stepped out and walked to the door with purpose. Past the warehouse, I could make out the imperial ship some distance off the coast, and I thought I could hear the sound of laughter, even at that distance. The guards were cowering long before we reached them. “Open the door and stand aside,” I said with all the authority I didn't have.

The guard on the left glanced at the other, but he was already reaching for it. We walked through, and I turned to the guards. “Do not come in here unless we ask for you. Close the door!” When the doors were shut, we smiled at each other, and Marcus hugged me. I didn't mind for once, and could not believe that my crazy plan was actually working. “You need to read more coffee grains,” I whispered. I pushed the man off me and gestured for him to follow.

There was a large empty space at the center of the warehouse, with the massive crates lined up along the walls. There was an unusual smell about the place, but I wasn't sure what from. The crates were even bigger than they'd looked from a distance. Moonlight trickled through small windows set high against the ceiling. I stopped in front of a crate and looked up at it.

“Why are there holes drilled along the top of the panel?” I asked.

“Don't know. Maybe there are screws hidden within them. Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Where do we start?”

“This one is as good as any other,” Marcus said as he moved closer to investigate. “Look,” he said, gesturing to the side of the crate. “There are large knobs on the side of the panel. Must be for opening it without destroying it.” Marcus started turning them counterclockwise. There were four per side. “I can't reach the top ones. Come here—I'll boost you to the top. There may be more above.”

I crouched on top and quickly turned the last two knobs. The top of the crate had a multitude of drilled holes. They contained no screws, and a faint, but horrible smell was wafting up at me. A realization dawned on me as I turned the last knob. “Erm… Marcus. I don't think these crates contain what we hoped they did.”

“Why?” Marcus asked.

Thud
.

The front panel fell to the ground and kicked up dust particles that glowed in the moonlight. It looked as though we were surrounded by a multitude of stars. A high-pitched squeal came from the crate, which rocked as something heavy knocked against the inside.

Marcus leaned into the crate to get a better look. Then his eyes went wide. “Gods!” He turned and ran to the far side of the warehouse, drawing his dagger as he turned. I wished we could have found a way to hide Marcus's short sword in the robes. The Inquisition often had rapiers, but never something as crude as a short sword.