Swords of the Imperium (Dark Fantasy Novel) (The Polaris Chronicles Book 2) (21 page)

“You, uh, miss them, right?” Taki said. He immediately cursed his ineptitude with words, but Enilna did not seem to care. She nodded and turned her face into his shoulder. With trepidation, he started to stroke her hair. He hadn’t needed to do this before. He didn’t know if this would help her or if it would simply confuse her more. “I also lost my parents. It happened a long time ago, and I don’t even remember their faces, and I certainly don’t know their names. And in truth, I never really cared to find out.” He looked down, unsure of where to go next. “But I know that if my squadmates were to perish, I’d miss them terribly. They’re kind of like family now. I don’t know what I’d actually do if I saw them fall in front of me. I think I’d go crazy, or I’d disobey orders if I thought I could save them. Once, I’d have gladly dumped them to get promoted, but I was foolish then and didn’t know a damned thing. I only thought of myself. Sorry, I’m rambling. I guess I wanted to tell you I could understand what you’re going through, or something. Forgive me. I’m probably making things worse.”

Enilna shook her head, her face still buried in the cloth of his shirt. She finally drew back and chuckled. She wiped a sleeve end against the moistness of her face.

“You definitely lack Aslatiel’s way with words, but thank you. I guess I wasn’t ready for this.” She was flushed. “My mother was right, though. This is the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever eaten so far. I’m glad I got to taste it with you. Thank you, Taki. One day, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you something far sweeter.”

She leaned forward. Taki tensed. He did not know what to do if she wanted a kiss. He would be unable to resist her a second time. Her lips veered to the side of his, and she planted a peck on his cheek.

“We’re friends, remember?” Enilna squeezed his hand and let go.

Taki nodded in relief. “Aye, we’re friends.” He stood up and offered her his arm. “Shall we go back?”

“Let me finish my b—” Enilna started to say, but she was cut off by a belch. Taki laughed and gazed up at the night sky.

Draco leaned on his jewel-headed cane and twisted his moustache. He huffed and stamped his feet, mimicking the mannerisms of an indolent playboy. A footman in front of him pored over a large, open text mounted on a pedestal. The man’s eyes flitted between the book and a dog-eared sheepskin festooned with dozens of wax seals, smeared annotations, and obscene doodles disguised as scrollwork.

“Canst thou not read? I tire of thine fumblings,” Draco sneered. “Let me to the tables else I beat thee with mine cane!”

“Master, I beg you to relent,” Aslatiel said. He had donned a robe of brocaded silk, and his queue trailed almost to the ground. “The honorable servant must confirm every man of high stature against the holy primate’s record, else it’s his head!” He shuffled up to the footman and bowed yet again. “Prithee, sire, is there a problem?”

The footman rolled his eyes and shoved the counterfeit letters of nobility against Aslatiel’s chest. “None, save for the mongrel in front of me. Takee thine scrollee to thine Lordee and tell him he may pass.”

“Thank you, thank you, sire.” Aslatiel bowed again, stepped back, and then turned to Draco. “Master, you shall win big tonight, yes. Shall I order the maids to take the viscountess to the powder rooms?”

Draco nodded dismissively and flipped the end of his powdered wig. Aslatiel gestured for the servants to make haste. Taki groaned inwardly as he shouldered one of the ends of Elsa’s palanquin again. Taking it through the city had made his body ache, and when he complained about it, Elsa had smacked him with her fan.
She’s enjoying this way too much
.

Thankfully, soon after they passed through the iron-reinforced wooden doors, he laid down his burden. With great ceremony, Elsa stepped out of her gaudy carriage and went with all of the women toward the powder rooms. Taki followed along after Lotte.

The pavilion reminded him of a gaudier version of the Duke of Kosovo’s throne dungeon. A riot of chandeliers swayed overhead, showering hot wax onto those below. Gaming tables hosted games of dice and cards where whole belts of milligrad were wagered without a care. Servants of the gaming lords plied their masters with a continuous stream of drinks and bloody meat. Gorging seemed to be as much of a competition as baccarat. A string quartet on an elevated platform provided strains of tinny music, but their efforts were overshadowed by the main attraction in the center of the room.

Within a cage of wrought iron, a nearly naked man was fighting a bear. The bear stood on its hind legs and tried to bring its massive bulk down on the human fighter to crush him, but he rolled and evaded the strike. The crowd, desirous of blood, booed. The fighter grinned, spat, and started to pummel the bear with his fists. The bear in turn tried to swipe at him with its forepaw and narrowly missed.

“It’s all an act,” Lotte snorted as she witnessed the fight.

“How do you figure, Cap—I mean, Sir Gunther?” Taki asked.

“Why did we pick
Gunther
as my name?” Lotte sighed. “Anyway, the bear’s holding back. The man is its trainer. Whoever runs this show tries to entice people to bet against the human and profits immensely.”

“Ah, then I shall lay a clip on the line for the man,” Draco said. “Make the arrangements.”

Lotte smiled and brushed his sleeve with her fingertips. “You’re a dab hand at this, Viscount. Sadly, there’s no time to bet.”

“Aye,” Aslatiel said. “We must go down. Natalis, you’re dressed as a page, so you’ll come along too.”

The human fighter in the cage pranced victoriously around the bear, which lay still and seemingly too exhausted to fight. The crowd simmered with disgust.

“Is that it for the show?” Draco asked. He twiddled with his moustache and squinted at the cage.

“No,” Lotte said, “they’re going to put in someone the bear doesn’t know. It’ll be a bloody mess. Let’s go down. That’s where the primate is.”

They came to the top of sweeping marble stairs cordoned off by velvet rope and manned by guardsmen. One undid one end of the rope to allow Draco and the entourage to pass. Their boots clicked on stone before crushing fine velvet.

Draco gasped.
“Sweet Jesus!”

The basement was a domeless rotunda with multiple halls branching off like spokes of a wheel. Marble pillars held up the ceiling, covered with snaking, flowering vines. Torches cast a soft, red glow that flickered over the proceedings below. The very center of the wheel was a stepped depression piled high with pillows on every available surface. Lying upon them were dozens of courtesans on display: a curling, gliding mass of limbs and torsos and flesh to rile even the most devout.

“Control yourself,” Lotte said.

Past the orgy was a massive metal door the height and width of two men from end to end. It was closed save for a small, barred portal through which a pair of hands passed out boxes of gleaming, brass-cased ammunition to waiting footmen who disappeared into a nearby servant’s passage.

Taki’s eyes bulged in their sockets as he took in the sights.

“You too, dammit,” his captain said.

“Sorry,” Taki said. “Er, where’s the primate?”

Lotte scanned the writhing pile and then pointed. “In the center. Come now, let’s greet him.” She descended the marble steps into the depression, and the mass of flesh parted before her.

The buck-naked primate of Astarte reclined on a pile of cushions as Lotte approached. An attendant knelt with a goblet of pungent, resinous wine perched on a golden platter. The primate took the cup and drained it in one messy gulp while rivulets of purple ran from the sides of his mouth.

Taki scrunched his eyebrows. Whatever features the primate might have been born with were entirely enveloped in sweaty rolls of pannus.
This is the city’s high priest?

“Fat man, cover your shame before I relieve you of it!” Lotte snapped.

Taki felt his knees go weak. Aslatiel winced and opened his mouth to speak, but the primate cut him off with a deep belly laugh.

“A raging bitch as always, Archangel Yuriel,” he said, smacking his thigh in amusement. “But that’s why I like you so much. No one else talks to the holy diver of Astarte like that and lives!” He waved idly to the stunned crowd around him. “Continue.”

Strings and drums, which had abruptly stopped at Lotte’s greeting, immediately picked up where they’d left off. The orgy resumed its sinuous waves as if nothing had transpired. Aslatiel stepped forward and knelt.

“Your Excellency, we are Alfa Gruppe of the Osterbrand Imperium. We humbly request the right of the Liberation Army to traverse your demesne—”

“Shush, bootlicker. I was talking to Yuriel here,” the primate said.

Lotte rested a hand on Aslatiel’s shoulder before addressing the primate. “You know I do not answer to that title anymore.”

“Yes, I know. ’Twas a damned shame you couldn’t punch through the Teufelsbrucke like you claimed you would. If it’s any comfort, the bastard Duvalier and his shitty little tollbooth have also given me endless grief.”

“Well, you
are
a big apostate,” Lotte said.

“Do you see, bootlicker?” The primate winked at Aslatiel. “She gets booted right in the cunt, and she still struts around like a big shit. That’s what a true archangel of the Temple acts like, which is why I shall always call her by her title. But we’re not here to reminisce. I let you all interrupt my fun because you can do a few things for me. In exchange, I’ll make sure my cannons stay silent when your army mucks up my highway.”

“And what about Hecaton Mezeta?” Lotte said. “I heard you’re letting her step all over you again. I thought you had better judgment than that. But don’t fear. We’ll take her head if you give her to us.”

The primate frowned. “If only you’d been here earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mezeta left my city yesterday. You know how the woman is. Fickle and not a shred of honor or decency. She stole my grad, gorged on my fare, and then seduced my best retainers.”

Lotte’s face reddened. “Where did she go?”

The primate’s lips curled into a triumphant sneer. “I’ll tell you
after
you perform those favors for me.”

For a moment, Taki feared that Lotte would simply run the corpulent priest through. To his surprise, she simply laughed.

“If your information’s garbage, I’ll grind your manhood underfoot,” she said. “So what do you want from us?”

“Two things, the first of which should be easy enough for you lot. If you can’t handle it, then there’s no point in telling you the second.”

“Get on with it. What’s the first task?”

“Simple. Kill my wife.”

“By
your wife,
I hope you mean Princess Sophie and not some common girl you’ve knocked up.”

The primate snorted. “I have dozens of starving, trained killers for the latter. Yes, I’m talking about my dear princess. I can’t make any deals with her around, lest she spike me from ass to mouth for disloyalty to her father. She also commands the loyalty of every idiotic royalist in this city. Once she’s gone, I’ll purge them all, too. Then your padishah and I can come to an agreement.”

“Then where is she?” Lotte sniffed. “We’ll do it tonight.”

“Oh, Yuriel, I’ve longed to hear you say that,” the primate cackled.

From above came an unmistakable rumble that Taki knew too well.
Gunfire,
he realized, and he instinctively reached down to his hip for a side arm that wasn’t there.

“Shit Christ!” the primate said, and nearly bowled himself over in panic. “She found out!”

“Betrayal?” Aslatiel also reached for his absent side arm.

“No,” Lotte said. “He hates the princess with a passion. We’ve been found out somehow.”

“Then…Mezeta?”

“We’d already be dead. And she doesn’t use guns. Hates the things.” She pointed at the primate’s entourage. “Hide him in the treasury! We’ll deal with the threat!”

The man’s attendants and guards wasted no time in hauling the corpulent priest up by his arms. Sweating, they dragged him from the center of the orgy pit to the vault door. Metal creaked as the door started to swing open.

Karma was the first to stumble through the velvet curtain. Mikhail’s arm was draped over his shoulders, for the albino had been struck in the leg and hopped along painfully. Karma’s shirt was also stained with blood.

“Report!” Lotte commanded.

“Chevs!” Karma said. “Assholes poured in and started shooting and hacking at everyone! The albino’s hit bad.”

“I can still fight,” Mikhail said.

Enilna was next through. Her face was speckled with blood and her dress torn, but she had a rifle slung over her shoulder. She raced over to Taki and cupped his face in her hands.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Sorry, you can’t have my gun.”

“I wasn’t asking for it!”

Another staccato press of fire from above, and the last two finally pushed through. Elsa’s finery was in tatters, and she bore a cut across her side. Hadassah stuck the barrel of a musket through the curtain and fired a shot before retreating to where her companions huddled.