Swords of the Imperium (Dark Fantasy Novel) (The Polaris Chronicles Book 2) (37 page)

He felt Lotte’s hand on his shoulder and looked at her. She’d be disgusted, for sure. Or at least displeased. But instead, she smiled at him. And surprisingly, so did the others.

“Go on,” she said. “Take the chain. You earned it.” There was not a shred of resentment in her voice. Draco ruffled Taki’s hair, and Hadassah gave him an awkward half hug.

“You know how to deal with a manipulator, right?” Karma chuckled. “You’ve got to one-up him! Besides, no one else I know has survived a fling with an Ursalan princess. That alone should get you hauptmann or something. Go get the silver, man.”

The hairs on Taki’s neck rose, and he felt someone behind him. Everyone in the room lurched back. The Imperial brass hurriedly fell to their knees, while the primate simply fainted. Taki blinked and looked down to see a pair of scarred, leathery hands resting on his shoulders. The leutnant’s chain was already fastened around his neck.

“Aslatiel, Reinhard.” Chronicler squeezed Taki’s shoulders. “I thought I taught you both better than that. Hecaton Mezeta
is
your top priority. While you dithered, my wife got her hands on the Argead
Ooss.
Now, she’s headed east and planning all sorts of mischief. But don’t fear. I intend to stop her. I’ve got a plan for you all.
Especially
young Taki.”

Taki extricated himself from Chronicler’s grasp and edged away. He still hadn’t forgotten the time they’d talked near the Hot Gates. He reached for his throat and felt the cold metal links of his rank insignia. How in the world had it ended up there? His heart thudded in his chest.

“I don’t think Natalis ever gave you permission to touch him,” Lotte said. She had her hand on her sword hilt.

Chronicler bowed. “I apologize. But my offer still stands. Hecaton is a wily woman, and we must move quickly if we’re to catch her. It will be a hard, long journey, and you will face hardships and tragedy that will make you long for the simple horrors of starvation and disease. But I will catch her, I guarantee it.”

“With all due respect,
Ba’gshnar,
” Reinhard said, “the padishah demands your attention in other matters. He does not permit you to chase your…your
ex
halfway across the globe.”

“Ah, I suppose I should tell you now, Reinhard. Padishah Imran the Fourth no longer sits atop the throne. He surrendered his authority to me, shortly before casting away the mortal body he’d occupied for eighty years. The Imperial Cult will attest to the truth of all I have said.”

“
Ba’gshnar!”
Aslatiel said. “What are you saying?”

Chronicler laughed. “Aslatiel, how dense can you be?
I
am the padishah now.”

Keep going for a preview of
Prince of Maladies
, the story of Lucatiel's rise to power!

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Prince of Maladies

My sister had sapphire eyes that marked her as a bastard, and thus her stepmother—my mother—hated the hell out of her. Under these circumstances, one might have expected my sister to have spent her time clothed in rags and chained to the hearth until her rescue by a prince, but this is a different type of story.
Our
story ends with Lucatiel becoming a “prince” in her own right and killing a whole lot of armed and dangerous people along the way.

I was ten when Lucatiel was brought to my door. She was one year younger than I and yet carried herself with the swagger of a hard-bitten soldier. My father, a hauptmann of the hussar regiment, rested his jagged, scarred hands on her shoulders and wore a look of contrition. She was a child he’d adopted on campaign, he said.

My mother dug her nails into the meat of my arms. “Who…no,
where’s
her mother?”

My father shook his head.

Mother’s jaw tightened. “She looks like you.”

“She does.” Father looked away. “We ride to Gdansk in a fortnight. It’ll be a long campaign. She cannot accompany me any further. The law says…”

“I’m a professor of the law. I
teach
our law to every clerk, factor, and army officer in Anatolia.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry…”

“What makes you think I want to raise your bastard?”

“I will earn double pay for battles,” Father said. “I will be sure to send remittance for her education and board.”

“Keep it. I make much more than you ever will.” Mother’s eyes were flinty. “You, on the other hand, should find somewhere else to stay in the meantime.”

“Are you divorcing me?”

“Don’t be silly. I want our son to have your death gratuity.”

Father walked down the path leading to our house and disappeared from sight. He never looked back, so the last I saw of him for many years was a pair of sagging shoulders under a drab hussar’s overcoat. My mother stared at Lucatiel, who returned her gaze with equal disdain.

“Aslatiel, show her to a spare room,” Mother said to me, and she left to grade exams.

I doddered forth and tried to pick up the small satchel that Lucatiel had dropped at her feet. The need to feign politeness outweighed my growing unease. A premonition flitted through my mind.

Lucatiel grasped my wrist, pivoted, and forced me to my knees. Her grip was as unyielding as iron manacles.

“Stop this now,” I yelped, “or I’ll tell mother! Mother!”

“You’re pathetic.” She wrenched my arm, and the pain stole my breath away. “Your mother’s not going to help you. Why won’t you fight back?” She frowned. “You look like you go to school. The older boys beat you often, don’t they?”

I burned all over, and my guts spasmed. I nodded. It was the truth.

She grimaced. “A weakling. I
hate
weaklings.”

“I’m sorry.” The words came out as a whimper. “I am. You’re right.”

She released her grip, and I pitched forward into the dirt. Before I could pick myself up, she hauled me to my feet by my collar. My knees still shook.

“Garbage. Disgusting. But Father told me to watch over you.” Lucatiel wiped a clod of muck away from my cheek, hoisted her satchel, and then stepped over the threshold and into our house. “Much as I hate it, you’re my brother now. I’ll do my part. I’ll protect you.”

Though her condemnation burned my pride, there was a reason for my disgusting passivity. What I couldn’t reveal to her, or anyone else, was that I carried a taint. Mine manifested subtly, making me entirely different from children who’d come to attention by incinerating their homes or hefting oxen like playthings. If either of those had happened with me, I would never have escaped detection for as long as I had. Even without abnormal strength or pyrotechnics, however, I was a descendant of the demons that had once ravaged the world. Though I could never hope to mimic their strength, I still represented a threat.

Were my taint ever to be revealed, I’d be conscripted into the Imperial Army to fight out the rest of my days as one of their witch-warriors: the Spetsnaz. They were hardened killers, feared by all and respected by none. Thrown into the meat grinder of our empire’s interminable wars, they used their demonic powers to turn the tides against impossible odds and always at great cost in lives. Though their sacrifices spared the lives of regulars like Father, the Spetsnaz were not part of our Padishah’s vision for society. They were tools, not humans, and thus had no rights.

Mother insisted I was one of the lucky ones. I possessed a dangerous flaw, but it was one I could suppress, letting me live a normal life. As her only son, I was meant to join the Imperial bureaucracy and live in peace and for that, she would do anything. But I had to do my part. I had to swear to never place myself in a position where my powers would manifest, which meant I could never raise my hand against another person. If I endured, I’d reap the rewards for sure and make her proud. First, though, I had to survive my education like any other teenager.

“Order pikes! Advance!” Our instructor sounded bored already.

I could tell he simply wanted to go back inside to a waiting samovar of tea, and I couldn’t blame him. Every Imperial citizen was a reservist in the army, and thus formations and drill were part of every school’s curriculum. I shifted my weight, rebalanced the heavy wooden shaft in my hands, and then took a step forward only to feel something heavy bump the side of my head. Having gone through the same motions almost every day of every year since enrolling, my classmates and I were skilled enough to not brain each other during pike drill. At least, not deliberately.

“Stop that, or I’ll report you,” I said. I knew who’d hit me with his pike.

“We both know shit-all will happen, von Halcon.” Feyd turned his head and leered at me. A full head taller than I was and a lot more muscular, he harassed me every day and usually got what he wanted. Most of the time, it was money. Sometimes, he just wanted to beat me up.

“Charge your pikes!”

I lowered mine to fighting position. I imagined Ursalan men-at-arms charging at me with their horrible battle cry and smiled as they collided with the wall of sharpened steel points. Then, I shook the image out of my consciousness. Foolish martial fantasies would only detract from my studies, Mother had often admonished.

“Charge for horse and draw forth your swords.”

We all bent, braced the butts of our pikes against the ground, and pretended to draw nonexistent side arms. I felt something metallic and sharp jab my side. I looked over and saw a knife in Feyd’s hand. It had sunk partway into the standard-issue bulky jerkin I wore. “What the hell are you doing?”

“My father got it for me,” Feyd said. “Nice, isn’t it? He killed a bunch of Ursalan wenches with it. Come by later to the back, or I’ll use it on you for real.”

“You’ve gone too far this time. You’ve brought an illegal weapon to school. Toss it, or you’ll be expelled.”

He laughed, because we both knew my threats were empty. He got away with everything he did because he was the school’s star fencer and the top performer for all exams—a genius with a nasty streak. By now, most of the teachers and even the headmaster were unwilling to deal with him. Just wait until he graduates, they’d tell me when I complained. I had no choice this time.

He extorted his victims behind the shed where our drill supplies were stored. It was out of plain view, though I suspected he’d be able to run amok in the headmaster’s office if he wished. Later, after lectures were done, I grudgingly counted up my credit slips. That was another week without lunch. And mother always wondered why I seemed so thin.

When I reported to the miserable rendezvous point, I found Lucatiel instead.

“I told you I’d protect you, but I didn’t know it was
this
bad.” She shook her head and idly picked under her fingernails with a stiletto—the same knife Feyd had poked me with earlier.

“What are you doing with that?” I asked.

Lucatiel grimaced. “He wanted to cut you, so I took it from him.”

“Feyd’s not serious when he says those things,” I said. “Even he has to abide by the law.”

“The law?” Her expression darkened. “The law will protect you from
this
? It’s solid steel, dumbass!”

I hopped back right before she flicked it at my feet. The blade sank neatly into the ground, right where the gap between two of my toes would have been. “What the hell is your problem?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wait! How did you know to jump away? You’re not that agile or perceptive.”

Bile rose in my throat. My power was manifesting again. I’d suppressed it easily until recently, and the premonitions had almost completely stopped. But since Lucatiel had shown up, all my progress was coming undone. “That’s unimportant. And why did you get involved? I have a plan, you know. I’ll bring him down before the year’s over. I just need time.”

Before she moved, I knew she’d swing for my nose. Normally, I’d have stood there and taken the blow, but anger made me irrational. I would not be upstaged by a little imp who had called me disgusting garbage. She’d disrupted my peaceful home life, and Mother now drove me relentlessly. I wanted Mother to hit Lucatiel, but it never happened.

I snapped my head to the side and avoided the blow I’d sensed coming. I clumsily twisted and trapped Lucatiel’s arm against my body. I drew my fist back. I’d get her for all she’d said and done. I’d bloody her nose, and perhaps she’d stop looking at me with such disdain. Before I could enact my revenge, she slammed a knee into my gut, and I collapsed in agony and out of breath.