That was more than just an accusation. From anyone else it would be considered heresy but could the man the Inquisition had decreed to be their own God reborn be capable of heresy? The very idea of it made Thanquil's head hurt despite the charm he wore around his neck to prevent such maladies.
“That is...” Thanquil searched for the right word, “an incredible accusation, your majesty.”
“It's not an accusation. For an accusation I would need proof.”
“Which, of course, you don't have.”
The Emperor nodded, his bright blue eyes seeming darker and worried. Thanquil paced, mindless of the company, as he considered what to do. Should he confess the Emperor's accusation to the council? It would be the wisest of things to do but what if the Emperor was right?
“I want you to find me proof, Arbiter.”
“Hah! I'll just go and interrogate all twelve members of the council then.” Thanquil stopped himself from saying more. “Sorry, your majesty. I have neither the right nor the power to question to the council, perhaps if you...”
“The Emperor of Sarth cannot be seen to distrust the Inquisition. To do so would undermine its power throughout the world. I need you to go and find proof, discretely, and bring it back to me so I can make a move to put a stop to this.”
“Why me?” Thanquil asked. “Half of the Inquisition seems to think I'm guilty of heresy myself.”
“That's exactly why I've chosen you, Thanquil. You're considered an outsider, you go where you please and you're known for... sometimes travelling off the beaten path.”
Thanquil rolled it around his head. It was a no win situation for him. If he turned the request down and the Emperor was right than the entire Inquisition could well be destroyed from the inside. If he agreed to the request the best that could happen was he would save the Inquisition and be punished for going outside of the Inquisition’s rules to do so, the worst that could happen involved him being tried for heresy himself.
“Because I'm expendable,” Thanquil mused to himself. The God-Emperor didn't deny it, just looked away. As much a confirmation as ever Thanquil had witnessed.
“What exactly is it you want me to do?” Thanquil found himself asking.
“My sources have brought me a name; a man somewhere in the untamed wilds by the name of Gregor H'ost. He is connected somehow. I need you to go to the wilds and find him, if he can't provide proof make him tell you who can.”
“The wilds are a bit outside of my jurisdiction, your majesty. I operate within Acanthia and the Five Kingdoms.”
The Emperor smiled. “Not a problem. Thank you, Thanquil. I'll not forget this.”
With that the Emperor turned again and stared out of the window, dismissing Thanquil with his back. Thanquil bowed and walked to the door. He turned once; the Emperor was still standing by the window. Thanquil pushed open the door and walked through it.
Outside the guards and the servants and the messenger with the fluffy top lip were standing waiting but with them stood another single looking figure.
Thanquil nodded once. “Arbiter Vance.”
Vance nodded once in return. “Arbiter Darkheart.”
Crushing silence descended. Again Thanquil nodded. “Glad we had this talk.” With that he stalked off, the fluffy lipped messenger struggling to catch up to lead him out of the palace.
No sooner had Thanquil stepped foot into the Inquisition compound another messenger appeared in front of him. He wanted nothing so much as to find a dark corner to sit in and mull over what the Emperor had told him. It did not feel like an easy task he had been given. First he had to find a way to the untamed wilds. He was certain there would be boats leaving from Sarth to trade with the free cities in the wilds but it was a long journey and long sea journeys were never safe. Pirates were the major problem, with violent sea storms coming in a close second and Thanquil was never sure whether to believe stories about giant sea serpents.
“Arbiter...”
“Yes, you have a message,” Thanquil finished for the man.
“From the council.” The messenger did not seem cowed by Thanquil's snap. “They demand your presence.”
“That's why I'm here.”
“Immediately.”
“Of course.” Thanquil was already starting to regret waking up this morning. First a private meeting with the Emperor of Sarth and now his interview with the council of Inquisitors. Thanquil couldn't think of a way the day could get any stranger. Plenty of ways it could still get worse though.
Kosh was on duty, guarding the outer doors to the council chambers. He stood at ease but his hands rested on the shafts of his twin scythes and Thanquil knew first-hand how dangerous he was with such weapons, even more so when enhanced by blessings. His friend grinned as he saw Thanquil approaching.
“Hangover cure?” Kosh asked.
“Around my neck.”
“I hear you've had a busy day.”
“News travels fast here.”
“Good luck in there.”
The halls that led to the council chambers couldn't have been more different from the imperial palace. No carpets graced the cold stone here and Thanquil's footsteps rang out loud and clear and echoed around the bare black walls. No decorations of any kind in this hall. No grand paintings with gilded frames, no priceless vases, only the occasional torch sputtering in the constant and cold draft. It felt like entering a dungeon or walking to his own execution. Neither were endearing thoughts.
Then Thanquil was at the inner doors to the council chambers. Two Arbiters stood guard by the doors, neither of which Thanquil recognised. The guards nodded for him to enter and Thanquil pushed open the doors and stepped through, they shut behind him with an ominous ‘
bang
’.
The Inquisitor council chambers were built in a circle with a pit in the centre for the subject and raised seating behind a waist high barrier for the Inquisitors. All was built out of cold grey stone, lifeless and dull and lit by a hundred torches positioned around the room. The torches somehow managed to project most of their light towards the pit making it hard for Thanquil to see to the Inquisitor's seating. He heard the shuffling of robes and the scuffing of arses kissing chairs and he waited, making sure to look nowhere in particular.
“Arbiter Thanquil Darkheart,” came a voice he recognised as belonging to Inquisitor Aurelus. Thanquil bowed his head and waited.
“Here you will answer for your crimes,” another voice, this one from behind and belonging to a woman; either Inquisitor Heron or Inquisitor Downe.
Thanquil waited for a moment and then started. All wandering Arbiters such as himself were required to present themselves in front of the council every three years and present a list of their crimes and, if need be, explain themselves before the Inquisitors. The Inquisitors would then determine whether or not the Arbiter had been corrupted by the influences of the world outside. Thanquil didn't want to think of the consequences if they decided he had been corrupted.
His list wasn't long. Most of it consisted of petty theft and of those there were too many to name them all, too many to remember them all and the Inquisitors were not bothered about such crimes. There were a few instances of murder, most justified, one accidental but unavoidable. Two incidents of abusing his position as an Arbiter for personal gain, while such crimes were not heresy they did earn heavy punishments but Thanquil felt justified. The gain was not monetary and in both cases had occurred because he had run out of money and had used the fear of the Inquisition as a way of extorting free rooms in two different inns.
Through it all the Inquisitors listened and said nothing. Thanquil felt the weight of so many eyes upon him but he had been through all this before and he knew they would not punish him for his crimes. It was much more likely they'd punish him for being him.
“You have passed, Arbiter Darkheart,” this was the unmistakeable voice of Grand Inquisitor Artur Vance. Thanquil squinted up towards the voice. The man looked old but that was not surprising, one hundred and fifty years was old even by Inquisitor standards and by all accounts Inquisitor Vance had passed that mark more than a few years ago. He still looked to be in good health though, and strong as an ox, which only went to further prove how powerful the Grand Inquisitor was.
Thanquil had heard the stories, read the history during his initiate training, and he knew the Grand Inquisitor's past as well as any Arbiter. The man was a hero. He had saved the Inquisition in its darkest hour.
A hundred years ago the Inquisition had gone to war against a cult of warlocks. The dark sorcerers had hunted Arbiters across the world and had dealt a serious blow to the Inquisition's numbers. The Inquisitors had marshalled and attacked the warlocks head on as they marched on Sarth. Five of the twelve Inquisitors died that day, the worst loss in the history of the Inquisition, and still the warlock army was unbroken.
A young Arbiter by the name of Artur Vance had entered the battle and he alone turned the tide. The Judgement of the Righteous, the Inquisition's most powerful weapon and one usable only by Inquisitors such is its power. Magic deadly to all those with the dark stain of sin and heresy upon their soul. Arbiter Artur Vance called down the Judgement of the Righteous six times that day and stood in the centre of the searing light each time. As if calling down the judgement six times in one day wasn't unprecedented enough the young Arbiter emerged from each without injury, proving there was not a single stain of sin upon his soul. Arbiter Artur Vance was named Inquisitor that very day and only a handful of years later attained the rank of Grand Inquisitor.
By all accounts the Grand Inquisitor had lived a life of uncompromising virtue with only one questionable action; his union with a woman who had the sight. The sight was known to be an affliction of witches. In women it manifested as the ability to see into a person's past, viewing the things they had done through their own eyes. In men it manifested as the ability to glimpse a person's future, maybe even their end.
Thanquil bowed to the circle of Inquisitors and prepared to leave the chambers. Then Grand Inquisitor Vance spoke again.
“Why did Emperor Francis request your presence?” the Grand Inquisitor said and the words were like a vice closing in on Thanquil's will.
He had felt the same thing earlier, in the imperial palace, only different. The compulsion. It should not have any effect on him, a trained Arbiter, but here he was experiencing it first hand and for the second time in one day. Before, when the Emperor had used it, the compulsion had been strong but unfocused, Thanquil had managed to squirm his way free from the question. Now it was different, it lacked the same strength but the focus more than made up for it. Thanquil could think of nothing else but the words, the answer to the question the Grand Inquisitor had asked. The truth bubbled up inside of him and demanded to be set free.
He couldn't hold it back any longer. Thanquil opened his mouth to speak, gasped and then the words fell out.
“He wished to thank me for finding his sword. He wanted to know where and how I had attained such a powerful artefact.”
The pressure eased and then lifted. Thanquil gasped and sputtered. The cold room felt hot and sweaty and the weight of all those eyes on him felt heavy.
“You did well, Arbiter Darkheart,” this from Inquisitor Heron. “Not many have lasted so long against the Grand Inquisitor's compulsion.”
“Seems your will is still uncontested, Vance,” the voice from behind Thanquil was brutish and accented. Without a doubt it came from Inquisitor Dale.
“Enough,” the Grand Inquisitor's command cut through the atmosphere like a knife and left only silence behind. “If the Emperor should ever wish to talk to you again, Arbiter Darkheart, you will come to the council to explain why. Do you understand?”
Thanquil nodded. “Yes,” he managed to croak. He was still shaking and could feel his heart pounding in his chest, in his ears. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so weak. It took every bit of effort he had to stop his legs from buckling.
“We have a new assignment for you, Arbiter,” Inquisitor Downe. Thanquil squinted in her direction, a middle aged woman with plain features and a heavy brow. There was not an ounce of softness to Inquisitor Downe. “The free city of Chade has requested an Arbiter to question someone they have taken into custody and believe to be a dangerous heretic.”
“The Inquisition has no authority in the free cities,” Thanquil said, his mind struggling to catch up with the day's events.
“They have granted an agent of the Inquisition temporary rights in order to question the prisoner.”
Thanquil nodded. “You're sending me to the untamed wilds then.”
“Correct,” Inquisitor Jeyne. “You will leave immediately, there is a boat departing tomorrow at dawn. You will be on it, Arbiter Darkheart.”
Thanquil nodded again, his head searching for something witty to say and coming up blank. “Of course. With your leave.”
“Go,” The last word, of course, came from the Grand Inquisitor.
Thanquil turned and hurried from the room. His legs felt like jelly and it was he could do not to collapse into the nearest dark corner and spend some time weeping. Instead he walked, aiming for his bunk in the barracks and hoping his tired feet remembered the way while his mind worked on other things.
He had learned something very important from his meeting with the council. Something he'd never known before and something he now wondered who else knew. There was a loop hole to the compulsion. The target could release it by telling only a part of the truth.
The BladeMaster
The noise was one of the most terrifying things Jezzet had ever heard. Swords and spears and hammers and axes being bashed against wooden shields and all at the same time. Sounded like thousands of them. Looked like thousands of them if the amount of torches were anything to go by.
Large fires had been built up at regular intervals just beyond the tree line, just out of bow shot and Jez could see figures moving around in front of the fires. The sun had disappeared long ago but the moon was full and close and bright and lit the ground between the fort and the forest well enough to see. Gave the troops in the fort some sort of hope anyways.