Sins of Empire

Chapter 52

Vlora arrived at Fort Nied an hour after the Dynize ambassador’s visit came to a sudden end. The traffic had been almost impassable the entire way down the east slope of the Landfall Plateau, forcing her to walk the last quarter of a mile, listening to the gossip spread like wildfire among shopkeeps, pedestrians, and laborers. People wondered openly if the Dynize would invade, open trade routes, or simply resupply on a long journey toward the Nine. She could feel the city pulse with uncertain anticipation, and like a spring coiled too tightly the tension felt ready to snap.

Olem had gone on ahead on horseback, and by the time Vlora reached the fort her artillery crews stood at the ready and riflemen manned the battlements. An ensign brought her up to speed as she came in through the front gate: Riflejacks manned the fort, while the rest of the brigade had been distributed in patrol lines all along the length of the bay and docks, and messengers flooded in with news that the entire Fatrastan garrison was mustering at wooden forts both north and south of the city. Vlora turned the messengers right around with orders to have full troop reports by nightfall, then stopped to take stock of her new command post.

Fort Nied was not, thankfully, an ancient palisade like Loel’s Fort. It was a modern star fortress directly on the bay, positioned to force all ships around it to reach the docks. It had open firing lanes on three points of the star to the ocean, and was protected by immense blocks of limestone enchanted by Lindet’s Privileged to shrug off both cannon fire and sorcery.

The fort had survived a withering bombardment by the Kez fleet during the Fatrastan Revolution. It would, she assured herself, hold up again.

A messenger touched her arm. “Lady Flint, Colonel Olem says to tell you that the Dynize ambassador has returned to his ship.”

“Right,” Vlora said, jogging up the steps to the easternmost star on the fortress and standing on her tiptoes to look out to sea. She took a hit of powder, relishing the brief rush of sorcery and adrenaline before focusing on the ships. Sailors and soldiers stood stoically at attention. She was able to pick out Ka-sedial up on the forecastle of the flagship, speaking to what looked to be the captain. “I’d give my left arm to know what that asshole is saying right now.”

“No,” a voice said over her shoulder. “Maybe a little finger. Never an arm.”

After everything that had happened, Vlora was still surprised to find Taniel standing behind her. Not Tampo the lawyer, but Taniel himself in the flesh. He wore a demure black coat and hat, his collar high. Just behind him stood a Palo woman, shorter even than Vlora and still as slight as she’d been ten years ago. She wore a black duster, her hands buried in the sleeves, and when Vlora locked eyes with her she winked.

“Hello, Ka-poel. Good to see you.” Which might have been a stretch. Vlora had discovered long ago that being warm to the woman who wound up with her ex-fiancé was decidedly difficult, even if she did save Adro from a mad god.

Ka-poel dipped her head, giving a little wave.

“Still haven’t figured out a way to talk with your sorcery?”

Ka-poel gave a tiny shrug, hands open, as if to say “what can I do?”

“She’s experimented,” Taniel said. “It’s not easy to do, and even harder to sustain.”

Vlora gave an involuntary shudder, wondering what “experimentation” entailed for a blood sorcerer, then looked around, suddenly alarmed. “You know, my men here were the core of the Seventh and Ninth, Tamas’s own. There’s a good bet plenty of them remember what you look like – and you’re not the most inconspicuous pair.”

“When people think that you’re dead,” Taniel said, “their eyes walk right past you. At least in my experience. Besides, Ka-poel’s too tired to give me a new face on such short notice and it’s worth the risk of being recognized. We have to talk.”

Vlora growled under her breath. “I thought we already did that.”

“Yeah, well, things have changed. I was hoping you’d reconsider my offer.”

“It’s a bit late,” Vlora said. “The moment the Dynize arrived Lindet offered me a king’s ransom to become defender of Landfall. I’m in command of the entire garrison.”

Taniel glanced out to sea nervously. “Yes, I saw that.”

“And I’m a bit busy.” She stopped, squinting at Ka-poel. “I met my second bone-eye today. Cold bastard by the name of Ka-sedial. Stared down Lindet like she was a common strumpet. Do you know anything about him? Does he have the same kind of power you do?”

A short, silent communication passed between Ka-poel and Taniel before her hands began to move, firing off a rapid series of gestures that Vlora couldn’t even hope to follow. Taniel watched them carefully before translating: “Ka-sedial isn’t nearly as powerful as she is, but he’s in Lindet’s class of cunning and ruthless. He’s not to be trusted.”

“I hadn’t planned on it.” Vlora wasn’t particularly surprised that Ka-poel already knew who Ka-sedial was, but she made a mental note to ask later exactly how she knew. Taniel and Ka-poel were just a whole box full of useful information. If they bothered to share it.

The hand gestures, and the translation, continued. “Ka-sedial knows there’s a bone-eye in the city. He’s been trying to suss her out since the moment he landed. He’s more experienced than she is, and it’s taking all of her power to hide.”

That, more than anything else, alarmed Vlora. Ka-poel was the strongest mortal sorcerer Vlora had ever encountered and she was hiding from Ka-sedial? Perhaps it was out of expedience more than anything else, but the fact that Ka-sedial was making it difficult on her did not reassure. “Is he going to cause problems?”

“Now?” Taniel said. “Bone-eyes are not Privileged. They don’t have access to fire and lightning. Their sorcery is a slow burn, a patient gathering of resources. If it’s a fight he wants, he won’t be any real threat today. If he remains in the city, he will be an immense pain in the ass.”

“So what you’re saying is that even if we avoid a fight, and have some peace talks with the Dynize, he could eventually do some serious damage without his army?”

“Pretty much.”

“Can you counter him?” she asked Ka-poel.

Ka-poel gave another one of those shrugs. “She’ll try,” Taniel said, “but she’s self-taught. Ka-sedial is a trained bone-eye with sixty years of experience in blood sorcery.”

Vlora rubbed her temples. None of this was information she wanted to hear. But, she reflected, important intelligence doesn’t always come in the form of good news. She opened her mouth, only to have Taniel cut her off. “We’re not just here about hiring you,” he said, “or to feed you bits about the Dynize. We need information. What happened with the delegation?”

Vlora was half-tempted not to tell him. He’d made it clear before that he had his own agenda, and it was directly opposed to Lindet – who was, once again, Vlora’s employer. “I should probably arrest you,” Vlora said.

Ka-poel pointed at her and waved her hands flat in front of her as if to say “no.”

“You’re not going to,” Taniel translated.

“Yeah, I picked up on that.” He was right. She saw what he did to those dragonmen. She should be trying to get him on her side, just like she did with Styke – the Dynize might be a problem for both Lindet and the Palo, and she needed assets against a possible invasion – but a stubborn part of her whispered that she didn’t need his help. She forced herself to look past her annoyance. “It didn’t go well. Ka-sedial came in alone and as much as told Lindet that he wanted Dynize property back or he was going to take it by force.”

“What kind of property?”

“Something called the godstones. Lindet wouldn’t tell me what they are, but they sound like some kind of sorcerous artifact.”

Taniel inhaled sharply, and Ka-poel pulled her top lip back. They exchanged a long look, before Taniel uttered one, drawn-out word. “Shit.”

Vlora turned her attention briefly to the soldiers scurrying around in the fort yard below them, and the gun crews bringing powder and cannonballs up to the fixed guns, before turning back to Taniel. “What do you mean, shit?”

“You remember those theories I told you about – why the Dynize are here?”

“Yeah, I remember you wouldn’t tell me about them,” Vlora snapped.

“This is one of those theories,” Taniel said with a grimace. “What did Lindet say?”

“She told him no, but that she’d think about it.”

Ka-poel tapped her temple with one finger, shook her head, then made an expansive gesture. Taniel translated: “She’s not going to give them to Ka-sedial. She’s just buying time.”

“For what?” Vlora demanded.

“For you to prepare for the invasion.”

As much as Vlora had been fearing a Dynize landing, she didn’t honestly believe that they’d actually do it. There were a thousand reasons, foremost among them that Fatrasta was still closely tied with the Nine. The fortunes of entire royal families were tied up in Fatrastan businesses and any war would bring the Nine into it in short order. “If the Dynize invade, they’ll bring the Nine down on them. Surely their spies will have told them that.”

“They don’t care,” Taniel said. “They’re not interested in Fatrasta, just the godstones. The fact Lindet isn’t handing them over means she knows exactly what they do, and that’s almost as terrifying as the Dynize getting ahold of them.”

“So,” Vlora demanded, her patience wearing thin, “what do the bloody things do?”

Taniel tilted his head to the side. “What the pit does it sound like they do?”

“I don’t know! Make gods? If I knew I wouldn’t be… asking.” The final word slipped out in a whisper, and Vlora found her mouth suddenly dry. “No. You must be joking.”

“Have you ever wondered,” Taniel asked, “where the gods came from?”

“I thought Kresimir made them.”

“Where did Kresimir come from?” Taniel countered. “Where did the Gurlish gods that our cabals murdered during the occupation forty years ago come from? Gods are not born. They’re made. Dozens have come and gone in the history of our world. It’s not public knowledge, but the cabals know. They’ve been looking for the godstones for centuries, and it just happened to be Lindet and her Privileged who found them.”

Vlora didn’t know what to believe. This seemed far-fetched, even for all the things she’d seen in her life, but she was talking to two living, breathing godkillers and all she knew was that she didn’t want to believe them. She took a step backward involuntarily, sagging against a cannon. “So whoever has the godstones can create a god?”

“Do you think Lindet would trust anyone else to become a god?”

“She wants them for herself,” Vlora breathed.

“And Ka-sedial wants them back.”

“For himself?”

“Or his emperor. The Dynize civil war was sparked by the murder of their last god. The only way they ended their war was the promise to make a new one.” Taniel leaned forward. “The Dynize are not motivated by greed or ambition. They are motivated by the desperation of dying faith, and that’s more dangerous than anything else in the world.”

Vlora looked back out past the breakers, at the masts on the horizon, her breath coming fast and short. “I saw what a god can do during the war. I’m not letting that happen again.”

“Agreed,” Taniel said, his face steely. Behind him, Ka-poel nodded.

“This is why you’re here,” Vlora said, voicing a sudden realization. “It’s not about the Palo or Lindet or Fatrasta. You’re here because of the godstones. To keep them out of Lindet’s hands.”

“To keep them out of anyone’s hands,” Taniel countered. “Don’t get this wrong. We fight for the Palo because we believe in their cause. But the godstones are more important than any ethnic or political squabbles.”

Vlora couldn’t help but agree. This was bigger than her, or Lindet, or even the Dynize. The godstones could change the entire face of the world, and she feared – no, she knew that it would not be for the better. “I won’t let them have them,” she said, summoning all of her inner strength to stand up straight.

“The Dynize?” Taniel asked.

“Any of them,” Vlora responded. She headed back down to the fort yard, calling for her horse and an escort of two hundred men. Employer or not, she and Lindet were about to have words.