The Book of Transformations (48 page)

‘I have’, he sighed, ‘been better.’ Then he slid his chair back, which was no small effort for him, and from a drawer to one side he retrieved a map and a handful of pebbles. As he unfolded it before Fulcrom, the Boreal Archipelago, creased and under a grid, was presented.

‘We have reports from garudas,’ Urtica started, ‘of the war in Villiren, and of the invasion force attacking from Tineag’l. This is common knowledge.’ Urtica placed a pebble in the island of Y’iren, where Villiren stood.

‘Is the combat going well? I see the occasional article in
People’s Observer
. . .’

‘That news outlet aside, I believe we are on course for victory,’ the Emperor replied, with a momentary glimpse of enthusiasm. ‘Now, however, there have been reports of incidents here, here and here.’

He placed a pebble in three locations, on various islands, each one closer to Jokull. It was only then that Fulcrom realized the Emperor’s hands were shaking.

‘Incidents, my Emperor?’

‘Massacres, of varying degrees. The first was the remnants of the Order of the Dawnir.’

‘The Dawnir?’ Fulcrom asked, surprised. ‘Does that include the famous Papus?’

‘Indeed. She had been dispatched to track down a rogue cultist. It was a minor affair, and between us both, ridding this city of two major cultists was no bad thing.’

Sly
, Fulcrom thought.
Thus allowing you more influence over the rest of them . . .
‘How was such a . . . legendary order wiped out?’

‘Probably a clash between her order and another. The other incidents are more concerning. All of them indicate something is heading right towards our island. Possibly to Villjamur itself.’

‘Is it related to the war in Villiren?’

The Emperor shook his head. ‘None of us are certain what it is, but there has been violence in several towns. What few eye witnesses are still alive have suggested that magic has been used.’

‘Cultists, then,’ Fulcrom suggested. He couldn’t hide the allure of this mystery.

‘Whoever it is,’ Urtica concluded, ‘they are heading on a path here.’

‘And this causes you concern?’

‘Nearly a thousand people have died at the hands of this . . . this thing, this cultist. Do you have any idea what such a presence could mean for this city?’

And that’s why you’re not that concerned about the Knights being exposed
, Fulcrom thought. ‘My Emperor, I wonder if the Knights would be in a position to offer some resistance to this threat.’

‘The Knights . . . but aren’t the people turning against them?’

‘We’ve had just one minor incident, but it’s too early to tell.’

‘I’ve had nearly a hundred of the most influential citizens in the city register their disgust at the Knights.’

‘They can’t help their own pasts, my Emperor. Part of why they were chosen was because of those pasts. This is the reason they were created.’

‘They were created to protect the citizens of the city, investigator, no more, no less. Their secrets were their security to us. If the people fear them for being monsters of whatever kind, then they are of no practical value. Feror, of course, we will execute for his betrayal.’

‘But his family—’

‘We must stay strong, investigator, until the very end. Feror will be used as a warning to others, and a symbol to the anarchists that we will not tolerate their ways.’

Fulcrom clenched his fists behind his back, and allowed the Emperor to continue. ‘My Emperor, I’m pleading with you, don’t—’

‘Don’t plead, investigator, not in my company. It isn’t decent.’ Urtica leaned forward and ran his hands through his hair. ‘Given that their secrets are out, especially Lan’s, it makes us all look like fools – particularly me. Is something wrong, investigator?’

‘No, my Emperor. However, whatever you believe Lan was before, she is now a committed member of the Villjamur Knights. I have a wonderful record that I can write up for you on the way she’s served the city.’ Fulcrom could feel his mouth becoming dry.

‘That may well be, investigator, but given the crises faced by this city, the people need to look up to the Knights. They’ve certainly cost me enough money. We can rebuild Tane’s reputation, perhaps. Vuldon’s too – a few articles in the
People’s Observer
can do that – but Lan . . . well, I have contemplated the issue in some depth and decided that it’s just not natural, is it? Already I’ve been receiving messages from councillors and various moneylenders to the Treasury, as well as the senior officials from the Jorsalir church, all expressing their concerns about what Lan is. A little slavery is OK, it seems, but I won’t gloss over her past. I rule strongly, investigator, but I need people on my side in times of a crisis.’

Fulcrom swallowed, felt hot.
Don’t say anything that could get you executed
.

‘Now,’ Urtica continued, ‘Lan is beyond salvation. Consider her decommissioned—’

A banging on the chamber door interrupted them. Disturbed, Urtica snapped: ‘What is it?’

A senior military official poked his head around the door sheepishly, with his helm under one arm. ‘My Emperor, I bring grave news.’

‘Out with it,’ Urtica ordered.

The officer stepped inside and took a stance as if he was on parade. ‘Combat has broken out from the caves, my Emperor.’

‘What kind of combat? Can’t your lot deal with it?’

Fulcrom noted the concerned look on the soldier’s face. ‘We believe we will have the situation controlled within a couple of hours.’

‘Hours? What the hell is going on?’ Urtica demanded. Fulcrom felt lucky: the Emperor’s tone with him had been remarkably mild. To this officer, it was filled with venom.

‘It seems that a significant number of citizens have armed themselves with weapons. What’s more, I suspect there’re relics in use.’

‘How many is
a significant
number?’

‘About four thousand, give or take, my Emperor.’

Urtica sighed, and glanced down at the maps before him, his fingers slowly scrunching up the corner. He suddenly stood and walked over to the soldier. With the pathetic effort typical of someone not trained in combat, Urtica struck his face with the back of his hand. The soldier showed only surprise; he lowered his head and muttered his apologies for delivering the news to Urtica. A silence lingered.

‘So, how many military personnel are there now?’ Fulcrom enquired of the soldier. ‘All ranks. Three thousand?’

‘Two and a half,’ he replied, cautiously eyeing the Emperor. ‘Skilled fighters, mind – not like those Cavesiders.’

Fulcrom nodded. ‘Sounds like it’ll be in hand then.’

Urtica began to walk away, the tension began to drop, but before he sat down he snapped, ‘I want a report every hour, on the hour, is that clear?’

‘Yes, my Emperor, of course.’

‘Get out.’ Urtica sat down then peered at Fulcrom, more tired than before, more desperate. ‘Return to your post, investigator, and await further instructions.’

Fulcrom stood, but dared the Emperor’s wrath one more time. ‘And Lan?’

‘We’ll decommission . . . her. I’ll send notice soon for her powers to be extracted.’

*

Fulcrom stomped back to his office, nearly starting fights at each guard station. He didn’t have the time to deal with pedantic idiots any more.

Insane. That’s what he was – an unhinged individual. How that man can lead this city – let alone an Empire – is beyond me.

How could the Emperor be such a fucking fool? Lan was immensely valuable to the city. She was – and had always been – a woman. It was as simple as that. Why should she have to suffer because of everyone else’s small-mindedness?

After he arrived back at the Inquisition headquarters, settled back at his desk, he looked at the walls and desperately tried to form some kind of strategy.

Warkur opened the door then knocked on it gently.

‘You got the stare, Fulcrom,’ he said.

‘Sir?’

‘The stare. Seeking that distant place, wishing you were anywhere but where you are right now. Be fucked if I don’t know that well enough myself. Can I sit?’

‘Sure,’ Fulcrom grunted, indicating the chair opposite his desk. He lit another lantern to brighten the room.

‘What’s eating you, Fulcrom?’ Warkur asked with a thunderous sigh as he slumped in the chair.

Since when have you cared?
Fulcrom thought. ‘A few concerns.’

‘How did it go with Urtica?’

Fulcrom explained the situation with the Knights, and his meeting with the Emperor, and his thoughts about how to move from here.

Warkur listened in unusual silence, offering no pearls of wisdom, no sarcasm – not even when Fulcrom mentioned that the Emperor reeked of drugs.
Something’s wrong with you as well
, Fulcrom thought.

‘These, uh, Knights of yours,’ Warkur started. ‘So the Emperor is fine for Tane and Vuldon to continue as normal?’

‘More or less, yeah.’

‘And the other?’

‘I’d rather not dwell on that, sir.’

‘You see, that’s a little tricky, Fulcrom. Some of the fellows in here have registered a complaint about your relationship with this Knight.’

‘She has a name, sir. It’s Lan.’

Warkur’s face betrayed his discomfort. ‘I, uh, yeah . . . You’re a good investigator, Fulcrom. One of the best lads here. You’re young, what fifty-odd? You’ve got a big career ahead of you, well over a century of good investigative work. Don’t piss that away because of some
woman
.’

Fulcrom stifled an incredulous laugh. ‘Misogyny aside, sir, I take it that you have a problem with my relationship with Lan? Perhaps it’s not so much my relationship – your problem lies with Lan herself.’

‘Not me personally, you understand,’ Warkur replied, breathing deeply.

‘Then who?’

‘It’s . . . well, the others say she’s just not natural, and if I’m honest, there are some people here who have – there’s no easy way to put this – raised speculation over your sexuality because of this. That this Lan figure is some kind of he–she, well – you know the laws of the city as well as I do, Fulcrom. You don’t want to face the executioner on those city walls, so come on, have a think, yeah? It just can’t be permitted if you want to stay in this role. Relationships, they come and go – trust me, I know about them.’

‘With respect, sir, you know nothing about relationships,’ Fulcrom replied, glaring at his senior officer.

‘No, I guess I don’t.’ Warkur stood to leave, his mannerisms full of uncertainty. He inched towards the door. ‘Fulcrom, don’t be foolish – just think about it, yeah?’

‘Let me get this clear: you’re threatening me with dismissal, because of my relationship with Lan, and what you don’t like about her is that she does not fit into your neat little view of the world?’

‘It isn’t like that, and you know it. It’s about perception, it’s about the law.’

‘The law’, Fulcrom growled, ‘says nothing about a situation like this.’

‘They’re saying once you’re a man, you’re always a man no matter what cultists say. That means you’ll be drawn into this. Get out of it while you can.’

‘You’re right – I’ll get out of it,’ Fulcrom said, sliding back his chair. He rummaged around his neck to unhook his medallion and sent it clattering across the floor by Warkur’s feet.

‘What’re you doing, Fulcrom? Don’t be a fool.’

Fulcrom gathered his cloak and bundled a few items in a satchel while Warkur assaulted him with trite reasons as to why he should reconsider this move.

‘You’ll regret it,’ Warkur concluded.

‘No,’ Fulcrom replied. ‘All I’ll ever regret is working with people I no longer have faith in. It’s been a pleasure, sir.’

Fulcrom offered his hand, but Warkur merely gave him another world-weary look. ‘Fulcrom, you’re our best investigator.’

‘Will you get the others to reconsider their views? As my superior, will you help to find clarity in our legal system?’

‘Those things can take years . . .’

‘Will you?’

Warkur sighed and shook his head. ‘The others, they’ve dug up old Jorsalir texts about the souls of men and women . . . I don’t think it could ever happen.’ He stared at the floor, and Fulcrom pushed past him, through the old, dusty hallway, past the offices of the other investigators and past the receptionist, Ghale, who was staring dreamily over her desk at some other rumel, and he headed right out of the door, past the guards and down the steps into the snow, where he wondered just what the hell he was going to do.

Tired and relieved, Lan strolled back with Ulryk out of the library, down the main steps and into the beautiful courtyard. It was daylight, though she didn’t know which day it was, and the snow had just ceased, leaving a light dusting that had yet to be absorbed into the warmth of the buildings, be cleared by cultists or trodden into mush.

Ulryk hugged his books in his satchel while Lan was watchful, concerned for his protection. It wasn’t long until someone called out to her, the words echoing around the stone. ‘Hey, Lan! You’re Lan, one of those Knights, right?’