The Price of Faith (26 page)

“The Queen of Blades is granted special dispensation on account of the Inquisition being loathe to start a war it likely can’t win.”

“Oh.” Thanquil had to admit it was somewhat refreshing for an Inquisitor to speak so candidly.

“My true reason for coming to Larkos, however, was to find you and to give you this,” he waved a hand at the package on the table. Thanquil refused to look down, refused to ask what it was.

“Whatever it is, Vance, I can’t do it. I have to find Jezzet. I have to find Drake and beat the truth out of him.”

“That can wait.”

“It damn well can not wait.”

“Kessick is alive.”

Thanquil opened his mouth to argue further but nothing came out. Arbiter Kessick had been Inquisitor Heron’s heretical right hand and with Arbiter Kosh the three of them had planned to implant demons into the Arbiters and Inquisitors of the Inquisition. The three of them had planned to destroy the Inquisition from within. Thanquil had uncovered the plot and he had killed Heron himself. Jezzet had killed Kosh and Thanquil had sent the Black Thorn to kill Kessick. He had presumed the Black Thorn succeeded and fled back to the wilds in case the Inquisition tried to judge him but if Kessick was alive that likely meant Thorn was dead. One less friend Thanquil had left in the world.

“So the council wants to send me to finish the job I started. The job they almost killed me for doing.”

Vance’s face remained an impassive, still mask. “Not exactly. The council have chosen not to act until they have more information. It is a stratagem that will likely prove fatal to the entire Inquisition if it is allowed persist.”

Thanquil laughed.

“The Inquisitors are afraid, Arbiter Darkheart. All of them, even my father. Heron duped them all into believing her lie and now they’re too busy watching each other to pay attention to the outside world. Kessick is attempting to complete his late master’s work and the council choose not to believe it. They are choosing to do nothing.”

“But not you?” Thanquil asked.

“Not us,” Inquisitor Vance clarified. “I am not alone in this, Arbiter. My concerns are shared by the God Emperor.”

“So why doesn’t he go and deal with Kessick? Why don’t you go? I have a Blademaster to find and a pirate to judge. Just between you and me, I have a feeling I’m going to find him very, very guilty.”

Still Vance’s face remained a mask of serenity. “The emperor cannot go, Arbiter, it would undermine the Inquisition’s authority…”

“I’ve heard that tune before.”

“And I cannot go. I have already more than overstepped my bounds by taking this,” he said and waved at the item on the table. Thanquil resolutely ignored it despite the overwhelming urge to touch the thing, to undress it.

“Whereas I can act with impunity?” He snorted. “And if you are correct and Kessick is alive and is continuing to raise an army of demon-possessed super people, what should I do against them?”

“That is why I brought you this. You know what it is?”

Thanquil nodded. He knew exactly what it was. He had felt it the moment Vance had placed it on the table. He had felt his wounds ache where it had cut him and he had heard its voice in his head. “It’s Myorzo. Heron’s sword and the prison Volmar forged to house the first demon he summoned from the void. Something tells me the council would not agree with you entrusting this thing to me. It corrupted an Inquisitor, what makes you think I’ll…”

“The God Emperor has bound it in dampening runes that should shield you from the majority of its influence. Even so I would not unwrap it until the time is right and try not to let others see it.”

“And I’m expected to do what with it?”

“Hopefully nothing,” Vance said, his composure breaking for an instant and his face looking weary. “But if there is no other way… Volmar used this sword to bind them all. With it you can break the chains.”

Thanquil didn’t even bother trying to hide his shock. “All the chains? At once? By Volmar, Vance, you’re talking about freeing the demons from their service.”

The Inquisitor nodded. “Yes.”

“We wouldn’t be able to control them. I… Not to mention the council would not exactly look favourably on me if I severed the Inquisitions only way to communicate over distance.” Thanquil looked down at the wrapped sword and heard a faint whisper in his head. He ignored it.

Vance was staring at him in silence, his witch’s eyes seeming to burn into his very soul. “Call it a last resort, Arbiter Darkheart. The God-Emperor and I agree, if there is no other choice…”

Thanquil let out a hysterical laugh. To be handed so much power and given the choice over whether to use it… It was not a decision he would wish on anyone, least of all himself. He ran a hand through his greasy hair and remembered to breathe. “Where is he? Kessick?”

“The wilds. I’m not certain where exactly but my sources tell me he has a new contact supplying him with bodies to possess.”

“Well he would need one.” Kessick’s previous supplier, Gregor H’ost, Thanquil had murdered after a brutal interrogation relying on intense, physical pain rather than the compulsion. He buried his head in his hands. “I’ll leave right away.”

“Thank you, Arbiter.”

Thanquil sighed. “I asked you once before to look into my future with those eyes of yours, Vance. I reckon I could really use some of that future-telling right now whether it’s heretical or not.”

There was a long silence. “I see nothing.”

Thanquil looked up into Inquisitor Vance’s eyes. “You said the same thing last time. You sure it isn’t broken? Maybe a couple of head shots would shake it loose.”

Vance shook his head. “It isn’t broken, Arbiter. I see nothing because there is nothing there to see. You do not have a future.”

“I… um… right… only… uh… what?”

“It is as if fate has simply forgotten you, Arbiter Darkheart. I do not know why or how but you have no future. I look at you and see nothing.

“It is why I first suggested the God-Emperor send you to find H’ost and root out the heresy within the Inquisition.”

Thanquil remembered meeting Vance for the first time, back when he was still an Arbiter and only a day before the God-Emperor had summoned him to a private meeting.

“It puts you in a unique position, Arbiter. The position to fight Kessick and the forces he hopes to bring to bear against us.”

“It does?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Thanquil could think of nothing else to say. Shocked, he decided, would be the right word for his current state. It wasn’t every day that he found out he had no future. He looked down at the sword on the table and could have sworn it was mocking him somehow.

The early evening found Thanquil roaming the Larkos docks. It was a cacophony of noise and activity. Bawdy sailors, finished with their day’s work, lounged about or stalked the harbour in packs looking for trouble yet avoiding Clerics wherever possible. Folk who committed crimes and were taken by the Clerics tended to end up flogged and put to community service. For a sailor that would likely mean missing their departure and that would put them out of a job.

Merchants crowded the designated spots, none willing to risk setting up their stalls anywhere else, and hawked to the passing crowd while sending each other furtive glances. Many sold the same wares and prices were constantly driven down by nearby competition. Thanquil stopped at one such merchant and purchased a new bag of black powder. His pistol had been impotent for far too long.

Slaves and their overseers were in abundance, marching to or from low wallowing ferry ships. No self-respecting pirate would bother taking a slaver as there was nothing there for them to take so the ships could afford to be slow and fat and ugly. Larkos was well-known for its slave trading; an empire founded by the independent merchant Ryos had blossomed into a business so profitable he had flat out purchased one of the thirteen companies that ruled Larkos. These days the Bleeders worked for Ryos and they and they alone ran the slaving business in the free city. All attempts at competition had apparently met with quick and bloody ends.

Rats were everywhere. Huge, beady eyed monstrosities of teeth and fur and quite possibly disease, they gathered sometimes in large hordes and other times in solitary but they were ever present in the docks of Larkos, as were the cats that preyed upon them. Never had Thanquil seen so many cats and none looked to be going hungry. They crowded rooftops, stalked alleyways and even managed to intimidate many a passer-by. The cats of Larkos were notorious for their lack of fear and it had been rumoured once or twice that they were not above attacking people.

He had added another layer of protection to Myorzo by wrapping it in a thick woollen blanket and had it slung across his back. Even so he could feel the occasional stare his way from those affected by its influence. Thanquil wasn’t certain whether the demon inside the blade had stopped whispering to him or whether it had become so pervasive that he no longer noticed it. Either way seemed a terrifying prospect.

He found what he was searching for floating languidly on one of the less well-travelled and less well-maintained jetties. In the waning light of the evening
the Phoenix
looked sleek and dangerous, just as many a sailor and port official had claimed. Thanquil hadn’t needed to use his compulsion to ask around; merely the mention of looking for a pirate ship had ended in many fingers pointed this way.

Two sailors lazed about on rickety wooden stools at the end of the gangplank that led up to the ship. Neither of them looked particular bothered about taking part in their watch duties. The first, dressed in a matching but worn suit of pale green, was picking at his finger nails with a short knife and the second, wearing a fiery red jacket over brown cottons, was occupied staring out across the water of the bay.

When Thanquil approached the first sailor whistled and poked the second who promptly gave up staring at the ocean and uttered a foreign curse Thanquil had never heard.

“I’m looking for…” Thanquil began.

“That’s a right fancy coat,” said the first sailor.

The second sailor sucked on his teeth. “That’s one o’ them Arbiters. Witch hunter from Sarth.”

The first sailor shot the second a look before turning back to Thanquil. “That right? You a witch hunter?”

Thanquil nodded. “I’m here to see your captain.”

Both men were silent for a moment then the second sailor glanced back towards the ship and shouted. “Yanic.”

After a short while a face sporting a neatly trimmed moustache and a scar that stretched from the right side of his mouth almost to his ear appeared over the rail of the ship and looked down at them. “Fuck me. Is that one of them Inquisitors?”

The second sailor shook his head. “He’s an Arbiter.”

“There a difference?” asked Yanic.

The second sailor shrugged.

“Well what does he want?”

“Wants t’ speak to the captain.”

Yanic laughed. “Well tell him the captain ain’t fucking here.”

The second sailor turned back to Thanquil. “Yanic says the captain ain’t here.”

Thanquil sighed. “Thanks. I don’t suppose Yanic might know when he’ll be back.”

“You know when the captain’ll be back, Yanic?”

Yanic shook his head.

“Yanic says he don’t know when the captain’ll be back.”

“Then I’ll just wait here for him,” Thanquil said looking around hoping to find another of the rickety wooden stools.

“Captain could be a while,” said Yanic.

“Aye?” asked the second sailor.

“Aye.”

The second sailor looked back towards Thanquil. “Yanic says the captain could be a while. Reckon you’d be more comfortable buggering off to a tavern. Come back tomorrow morning.”

Thanquil snorted. “You’ll be gone by the morning. I think I’ll wait.”

The second sailor spat on the jetty. “Suit ya’self.”

“What does he want with the cap’n?” asked Yanic.

“Dunno. Didn’t ask.”

“Well ask him.”

“What d’ya…”

Thanquil interrupted the man. “I’m looking to book passage on your ship.”

All three sailors burst into laughter. “Reckon ya might have the wrong ship, Arbiter,” said the second sailor. “We ain’t exactly the passenger ferryin’ types. We’re, uh, buccaneers.”

“You’re pirates,” Thanquil said.

“Same thing really,” replied Yanic. “So don’t make no sense you wantin’ to ship out with us.”

Thanquil sighed. “I need a ship fast enough and a captain crazy enough to go after the
Fortune
. So I think I’ll wait right here until your captain returns.”

Yanic looked down at the second pirate. The second pirate shrugged and stood, running a hand down his jacket then proffering it to Thanquil. “Captain Keelin Stillwater.”

Thanquil opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out so instead he took the pirate’s hand and shook.

“First things first, Arbiter. You don’t have a hope in all the hells of catching up with the
Fortune
even aboard
the Phoenix
and even if all the Gods line up and take it in turns farting into her sails. Drake left port…”

“Three days back, cap’n,” called Yanic.

“And there isn’t a ship built can catch the
Fortune
on open water. That being said, I do happen to know many of the places Drake frequents and I reckon I know where he’s most like to be. So,” Captain Stillwater grinned wide, “let’s talk about your fare.”

They came for her on the fourth night. Drake had brought her aboard and told her there were no free cabins on the
Fortune
but she was welcome to stay in his. Jezzet declined. She trusted neither Drake nor herself in such a situation so decided the best course was to remove the temptation. She opted to sleep down in the hold when she managed to sleep at all and she had found a nice little corner of nowhere that was snug and warm and only smelled badly as opposed to terribly. Drake had laughed it off, told her she could sleep where she liked and now it appeared her stubborn defiance was having consequences. Drake’s crew obviously thought she was fair game.

She was awake as the first of the pirates, a big man with beady eyes and no hair, stepped close to her hiding place, he was not light and he was not stealthy. Jezzet opened her eyes a crack. Three pirates; the big one, a small one and a greasy-haired frog of a man. She waited until he was just a couple of feet away, until she could smell all three men’s unwashed stink, and then she struck.