Chainers Torment

CHAPTER 3

Skellum's howling, flying thing had done its job. There was no one on the streets to observe Azza and Chainer as they galloped toward the manor. He saw several frightened faces peeking out through windows or from behind cracked doors, but no one was foolish enough to risk interfering with Azza's progress.

They raced past the initiates' dormitories, where Chainer lived after Skellum started training him. Beyond the dorms was the largest port on the continent, its docks wholly owed and operated by the Cabal. Between the docks and the dorms was the city's main arena, the bloody pits where Chainer had fought for and earned a place in the Cabal's hierarchy. Azza bounded though a sharp left turn, and there it was: the manor, where the First lived and lorded, where all the world came to bow and beg for the Cabal's favor. Chainer had only been inside once before for his initiation, but he remembered every detail. It was a huge structure, ten stories high and two city blocks wide. The thick stone walls had been carved and set by the finest dwarf masons and further reinforced with magic and metal. It would take the destruction of the entire city and a half-mile of the bedrock below to put a dent in the First's home. The gleaming silver cathedral dome at the top was polished to a high shine, so that it reflected whatever was in the sky above it like a great convex mirror. At the very end of Manor Way, where Azza and Chainer were, the dome and the toothed drawbridge gate combined with the huge observation towers in front of it all to give the viewer an impression of a huge, grinning, metallic skull with horns.

Home at last, Chainer thought, but his good humor was already fading. Passersby this close to the manor were more used to screeching monsters than the people in Roup's neighborhood. Skellum's winged thing had only caused this foot traffic to clear a path rather than vanish behind locked doors. The sparse crowds gave Chainer and Azza plenty of space but eyed them suspiciously as they passed. Chainer touched his dagger and the satchel at his hip, mentally preparing himself for the next challenge he would face. Getting to the manor was only the first step. He would have to get inside and then convince layer upon layer of armed guards and petty bureaucrats that what he carried was for the First alone. Azza seemed to pick up on his concern, and she slowed to a trot. Chainer anxiously prodded her with his heels, but she stopped him with a menacing growl.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm a little nervous. Will you help me get inside, or are you just taking me to the gate?"

Azza craned her head around and regarded Chainer with one red smoldering eye. She coughed, unimpressed, and then sprang forward at full gallop once more. Chainer hung on, smiling slightly.

The guard on the gate was a six-foot-tall woman with three yellow eyes and vivid purple hair cropped close to her head. She was burly and broad-shouldered, with long serrated fingernails painted to match her hair. Unlike most of the guards Chainer had met in his life, she seemed neither bored nor bullying.

"Who goes?" she called. The top eye in the middle of her forehead squinted in the dusky gloom.

"The Cabal is here," Chainer said.

"And everywhere," the guard replied. All three eyes now squinted. "Azza, old girl, is that you?"

Azza coughed again, then reared up, almost tossing Chainer off her back.

The left eye winked at Azza while the other two oriented on Chainer. "And you must be Skellum's boy."

"I am Chainer. I seek an audience with the First. I have urgent-"

The guard held up her hands. "Easy, little brother." She grinned, and Chainer saw that her teeth were serrated, like her nails, and they too matched the color of her hair.

"We've been expecting you." The guard stepped aside and waved the mounted pair in. "Proceed to the Great Hall. You will be met there and escorted to the First. Azza," she added, "don't let him wander off on his own."

Azza growled, more annoyed than angry, and the guard laughed. As the great dog padded into the manor, the guard winked at Chainer with all three of her eyes in succession.

Unlike the offices in the administration building, the interior of the manor was decidedly still and silent. The First used the manor primarily for advanced rituals and to receive important guests. All of the Cabal's actual work was conducted in the streets, in the homes and offices of syndicate executives, or in the arena. Apart from a handful of visible guards, there were very few people between the entranceway and the Great Hall. Chainer gazed around as Azza bore him on, taking in the ornate decoration, the trophy displays of wealth and prestige, and the simple, sheer power humming from the gemstone chandelier. Overwhelmed, Chainer lowered his eyes and focused on Azza's muscular neck. He was being admitted to the manor, escorted into the presence of the First, and, he reminded himself, he carried the finest treasure yet at his side.

"Eyes up, little brother." Skellum waited for them near the fireplace at the center of the Great Hall. Before Chainer could hail his mentor, Azza sat down and tossed him off with a short shrug of her shoulders. She bounded up to Skellum.

"Of course I'm fine," Skellum held his hand out, and Azza sniffed it. She quickly sniffed the air around him and then barked happily. "No problems, I take it?" Skellum nuzzled Azza behind the ears, but he raised his voice to address Chainer as well.

"None, mentor-" Azza interrupted Chainer with a long, low, warning growl. When he quickly fell silent, she tossed her head under Skellum's hand and prodded him gently with her muzzle. She looked back at Chainer and barked once, angrily.

"I'll get to that," Skellum said. Azza barked again, and in three great thundering leaps, she was face-to- face with Chainer.

She let out another slow, deep growl. With his complete and utter attention, she stared into his eyes for a moment, coughed, and then kissed him sloppily once from chin to forehead. Chainer was only dimly aware of her bounding away, back out the front gate.

"What was that all about?"

Skellum had not moved, and he stared at Chainer meaningfully. "She likes you. She's not usually that affectionate." "Before that. The barking. The growl."

"She's also mad at you for opening your mouth in front of that Order officer."

"She what? But-"

"As am I, little brother," Skellum said. "Or were you simply unaware of how carefully I had put things together in order to help you? Did you think it was easy to arrange for an interview with the First on short notice? So easy that you could taunt an enemy before he was defeated? Is it a simple matter to arrange safe passage through half the city while simultaneously mustering enough tooth and claw to back down an Order officer and his entourage? Did you think of these things when you opened your mouth? Did any of this cross your mind at any time, little brother?"

"No, Master."

Skellum's eyes sparkled when he smiled. He double checked to make sure Azza was gone. "Me, neither. That's how I'm able to perform such miracles, my boy. I don't know what's impossible."

Chainer laughed in relief, but caught himself. "Master, I regret taunting the toy soldier before he was beaten. I will do better."

"And better still," Skellum said, his silky voice gone cold again. "You killed that warty little bird."

"Yes, Master."

"You killed it."

"Yes."

"Killed it." Skellum's voice was fading, and Chainer waited a moment before clearing his throat.

"Yes, Master. I killed it."

Skellum shook his head. "Very bad. I'll have to explain why, but you'll have to explain first." He looked up brightly. "Ha, ha. You'll have to explain… first!" He shook his head, smiling.

Chainer had seen Skellum fade out before, but it was usually much later in the evening, when his thoughts were not so ordered and his control began to slip. He gently took his master's hand and pulled him a step forward, spinning his hat so that a gap was by Skellum's ear.

"Master Skellum," he said evenly, "we are meant to see the First now. You have to take me to him."

"Don't touch my hat!" Skellum flinched. "Hm? Chainer! There you are." Skellum yanked his hand free and quickly reoriented his hat so he could see out of both eyes. "Right you are. We're to see the First. You've got the… er. What is it you've got again?"

"A fabulous treasure."

"And you've got this fabulous treasure with you?"

"Right here."

"Keep it handy. You remember the most important rule?"

"No one may touch the First."

"Very good. And tonight, young Chainer, there is something else. The First is very interested in what you have to show him. In what you have to say, but that just means he'll be even more difficult to impress. If you had passed him at a formal dinner and said, 'Hey, look at this fabulous treasure,' it would have been an easy sell. But we've asked for a special audience, a great inconvenience to a busy man like him. We must tread lightly.

"Do not speak to the First unless he speaks to you. If he approaches you, stand perfectly still. Don't do anything that might annoy him, and for Kuberr's sake, don't flail around or duck away from him. The last man to do that was killed, reanimated, and propped up in the smoking lounge for five years, so guests could put their cigars out on his forehead. You may want to spend the next half-decade as a zombie ashtray, but I don't. For both our sakes, stand still and listen."

"All right, Skellum, all right," Chainer sputtered.

Skellum's eyes went cold again. " 'Master.' You call me 'Master.' What do you call me?"

Chainer was taller than his mentor, but Skellum had a way of peering up from the gaps in his hat with his cold, angry eyes that was ten times more threatening than sheer size.

"Master. I'm sorry, Master."

"I'm serious, Chainer. One slip and we both go down. Currently, the First thinks very highly of me, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"I understand, Master Skellum."

Skellum smiled and gave his hat a spin. He stopped it, unhooked it, and tucked it under his arm with a flourish.

"Then let's go."

They were admitted to the antechamber outside the First's study. They were not searched or magically bound from doing their host harm, as an outsider would have been. There were nonetheless a dozen armed humans and monsters standing ready in the First's private chambers.

The room was dark, lit only by black candles atop tall silver poles. The First stood with his arms behind his back at the far end of the room, under a massive oil painting of himself in formal robes. Four human men and four human women in matching blouses moved constantly around him, translating his commands and his movements into a complicated dance. His attendants were the only ones allowed to approach him, and even they maintained a safe distance at all times to keep from brushing against him. Two of the eight had the outline of a skull etched in bone-white on the front of their black blouses. The other six had a yellow skeletal hand. The First raised his arms high and wide, and his attendants spread out beside him, then moved forward to interact with his guests.

"Master Skellum," the First said formally. "Whose secret name is Cybariss. Welcome."

"The Cabal is here, Pater."

"And everywhere."

Chainer's life froze when the First turned and met his eyes. He had seen the First once before, but he had not seen him in such detail or in such raiment. He was dressed now in black hide, cured and tanned until it was as stiff as glass. His clothing seemed coated in a thin film of oil, especially at the elbows and shoulders. In this simple businesslike robe, head unadorned, he seemed somehow more intimidating than he did in full headdress and regalia.

"Apprentice Chainer. Whose secret name is Mazeura. Welcome." The First was old, but not wizened. His skin was gray and smooth as stone.

Chainer heard a voice from very far away mutter, "The Cabal is here, Pater," and then realized it was his own.

"And everywhere." The First's eyes were milky white, but this indicated an increased facility rather than a diminished one. It was said that the First could see through a person's soul as easily as he could through walls. The gray-white orbs darted and focused around the room.

"I understand you have something for me." From the far end of the room, the First stretched out his hand, palm up, and one of his attendants bearing the skeletal hand standard approached Chainer. "I will have it now, Mazeura."

The attendant's eyes were blank and glassy as the man waited to receive Chainer's package. Chainer hesitated only long enough to glance at Skellum. He had been determined to put the sphere directly into the First's hands, but it seemed these people were his hands. Chainer untied the drawstring on his satchel and held the sphere at arm's length, so that it hovered six inches above his hand. The sphere floated from over Chainer's hand to the hand-attendant's. Numbly, the man turned and carried the sphere to the First.

Chainer did not breathe while the First examined the sphere.

"Remarkable," he said at last. Balancing it over his right hand, the First gestured with his left. Two more of the hand-attendants came forward, bearing a sturdy black box with runes engraved in a band around its lid. The First placed the sphere inside the box, closed the lid, and muttered a few words. The lock flashed, the seam between the lid and the box disappeared, and the attendants carried the sealed cube away.

The First turned to face Chainer. "Remarkable," he repeated. He regarded the younger man, a finger tapping his upper lip. "You call yourself Chainer."

"Yes, Pater."

"Chainer. You have my thanks. Such a treasure, freely given. Do you have any idea what it is?"

"No, Pater."

The First touched his temple, and one of the skull-standard attendants stepped forward. "I think I might."

To the attendant, he said, "Make a note. I want Chainer summoned to me again when we've determined exactly what his treasure is. I want him to know as soon as we do." The attendant nodded, bowed, and stepped back.

The First glanced over at Skellum, and then stared hard at Chainer.

"I wonder, Chainer," he said, "if you would have beaten such a path to my study if you'd known exactly how powerful that sphere is. Either you are very loyal or very unobservant."

Chainer felt the back of his neck go cold. "I am your obedient child."

The First stepped behind Chainer, his attendants trailing behind him. Some of the guards shifted their positions in response to the First's movement.

"Or maybe," he continued, "you did know how powerful it was, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before it found its way to me. So you sought my favor by bringing it here directly."

Chainer felt dizzy. He caught Skellum's warning stare and choked on silence.

"Bringing it here directly," the First mused, "and en route attacking one of my children, hijacking my communications network, and killing an officer of the Order to get it here. All this for something whose value you could not precisely estimate."

The First left Chainer shaking and nauseated as he glided over to Skellum, surrounded by a silent swarm of attendants and guards.

"Master Skellum. I hope that your apprentice's sphere is very valuable indeed. It may have already cost us a great deal."

"In all fairness, Pater," Skellum's voice was as deep and as rich as molasses, "it was only an Order officer's pet he killed."

The First scowled. "A pet."

"Yes, Pater. I may have spoken imprecisely earlier. It was not the officer my apprentice killed, but his war bird."

Chainer went freshly cold as the First turned and peered at him again. The First glared at him for a moment through cloudy eyes, then snapped the fingers on each hand twice and reached forward with his right hand toward Chainer. All six hand-attendants came forward and ushered Chainer forward. He offered no resistance as they led him forward, stopping just outside the Cabal lord's reach.

The First towered over Chainer and took one step closer. His voice was calm, barely above a whisper. "You know what we do here, apprentice. You are at least familiar with how the Cabal operates." Close up, Chainer could feel the nauseous aura that surrounded the First. Standing in his presence was like standing on the edge of a bottomless pit. There was a sick odor about the First, as well. Not a foul smell, but the sour waft of ashes from a sickroom fireplace.

"The Cabal, Apprentice." Chainer's eyes darted to Skellum, then back to the First. "Tell me now what the Cabal does."

"We survive," Chainer answered immediately. Like every Cabal-ist, he had gone through the Cabal's cram indoctrination program and knew the routine of call-and-response by heart.

The First took another step forward, and Chainer began to feel physically ill, and he knew it wasn't just his nerves. His throat and nostrils were becoming raw, as if he'd been breathing smoke.

"We survive," the First echoed. "We feed, we gather, we absorb." He waited, and Chainer finished the list for him. "By the will of the First, we kill."

"By my will," said the First, "and mine alone. And my will is to kill nothing unless there's a long-term benefit. The more people there are alive, the more people there are in the arenas and gambling houses. The more patrons there are for the moneylenders and the flesh mills. We have a thousand uses for people when they're alive. We have only one or two when they're dead."

"It was an animal, Pater," Chainer said. "A bird of prey on a leash. He ordered it to attack me. I defended myself." "By my will alone," the First repeated. "And my will in all cases having to do with the Order is no killing. I am quite comfortable with the current relationship between their governing body and ours. They claim to be the law, while we are content to be all that is outside the law. Even as they recruit and convert warm bodies, our endeavors see higher and higher profits. They suppress society's truest urges, and we release them. It is a delicate situation, one that I spent years creating. Do you understand, Apprentice?"

"Yes, Pater."

"If there is to be an escalation of hostilities, it will be according to my schedule and my agenda."

"Yes, Pater."

The First drifted back to his spot under the painting at the far end of the room. His attendants silently followed.

Chainer exhaled, drawing fresher air into his lungs. He felt stronger with each step the First took away from him.

"Skellum," the First sounded casual, almost conversational, "tells me that at least you didn't waste the death."

"No, Pater. As he taught me, 1 captured the bird's essence."

"Then this has not been a total loss. Chainer."

"Yes, Pater?"

"Come here."

The First spread his arms out in a wide welcome, with his attendants keeping three feet of space between themselves and his person at all times. Chainer knew Skellum would be trying his utmost to will Chainer into a state of calm, but Chainer was overwhelmed beyond panic. He stood silent and still as a stone. If the First rewarded him here and now, or killed him outright, or burned out his brain and slapped a hand-standard blouse on his back, he didn't think he'd even flinch.

The sickly odor hit Chainer again as the First brought both his arms together in front of him. In response, one of the hand-attendants stepped forward. The attendant hugged Chainer, fairly lifting him off his feet, then stepped back into the ranks. Two other hand attendants urged Chainer to his knees, tilted his head, and cupped their hands around his ear.

"I said your sphere was remarkable," the First spoke in a conspiratorial stage whisper that was clearly meant for Chainer alone. "And so I remark upon it.

"What you have done is a great service to the Cabal and a great honor to me. I offer you my hand in gratitude." One of the attendants came forward and held out his hand, palm-down. Chainer took the hand and pressed it into his forehead.

"You will be fairly rewarded for your services tonight. And more, you will be remembered." The attendant pulled his hand away, and all of the attendants around Chainer stepped back to let him rise. "Go back to your quarters and wait. I would speak with Master Skellum about your future. He will tell you what we decide. But rest easy on the cushion of a job well done, Chainer. I see your future as one of wealth and power." The First crossed his arms behind his back, signifying that the interview was over.

A human guard tapped Chainer on the shoulder and gestured with his pike.

"The First is wise," Chainer said. "Long live the Cabal," the First replied.

Chainer was led out, but he saw Skellum smiling. He was led all the way out of the building, past the sharp-nailed guard and out onto the street.

When his escorts turned back, Chainer walked on in a kind of daze. He touched his dagger, reassured himself that his satchel was finally empty, and broke off a three-foot length of chain with a whispered word and a shimmer of air. He began spinning the truncated chain around his fingers, one of the most basic dexterity exercises he knew.

He felt drained, but his head was still buzzing. He couldn't feel his legs, yet knew he could walk for miles. He sauntered on, spinning the chain as he strolled, faster and faster. He smoothly transferred it from hand to hand as he walked, and he realized that he was happier than he'd ever been in his life.

"I think he is ready, Skellum. You may begin."

"He is ready, Pater. But I would prefer to have another few months before-"

"He is ready, but needs a few more months? Speak clearly, Skellum."

"Pater. He is ready to begin his dementist training. I can have him back in the pits in six months."

The First waited silently, then said, "You are being evasive, Skellum, something I taught you. Normally, I would be proud. Right now, I want you to get to the point." "Sorry, Pater. The point is, he would be going back to the pits. The ones who start out in the pits aren't usually fit for anything but guard duty or rough muscle. My method is to pick out the most promising candidates for my academy during the indoctrination cram, and most of them wind up in the pits as simple dementia casters. Chainer is capable of doing much more for the Cabal. He could be a full-fledged dementist."

"Everything you are saying is known to me, Skellum."

Skellum nodded. "We are pushing Chainer toward his strengths. I'm not questioning that. I am simply wondering if we're pushing too fast. Dementia training has snapped many a young mind beyond repair. We both have high hopes for Chainer. I don't want to lose such a valuable asset after investing so much time and effort."

The First looked mildly amused, something Skellum had not seen before. "You make it sound so clinical, Master Skellum. Hard facts, hard values. This is your favorite pupil we're talking about."

"Pater. I'm only trying to keep my personal attachment to the boy separate from my opinion of his ability."

"Why would you want to do that? Business is business, but then again, family is family." "Yes, Pater."

"So speak, Skellum. Tell me why you want to wait." "I want him to be a dementist, not just a pit caster. You know his history, you know his temperament as well as I do. If he masters dementia training and returns to the pits, I'm afraid he'll become unbalanced. Dangerous to himself. To others."

"You have just described most of our current crop of dementia casters and all of the truly great ones. I fail to see your concern."

"Despite what we made him recite, Pater, the Cabal is about control. We amass power, and we control it. Chainer has the potential to be extremely powerful. That power will need to be carefully monitored and molded as it grows."

"Master Skellum," the First said. "That is exactly what I am proposing you and I do for the boy."

"Yes, Pater." Skellum knew when to abandon a failing argument. "Skellum," the First said, "listen to me carefully. I am aware of your concerns. I share them. The boy is too reactive, like all pit veterans. He assesses a threat, and he strikes. They have to be taught how to think before they act.

"But that is what you and I will teach him, my child. Imagine the perfect blend of pit fighter, dementist, and caster. To have in one man the body of an athlete, the mind of an artist, and the instincts of a trained warrior. Imagine him as a pit boss, supplying an entire games with just the monsters in his mind. Or picture the spectacle he'll put on when he enters the pits himself. And if the Order declares crusat, and the death squads come calling again, imagine how hard he will fight to defend his home and family."

"Pater?" Skellum hesitated, then blurted, "Are the death squads forming again? Has Captain Pianna violated the arrangement?"

"No. But her grip on power is not absolute. And none of us are immortal." The First smiled patiently.

"No, Pater."

"Do not worry, Skellum. Begin the next stage of Chainer's training first thing tomorrow. We will not lose him. "And tonight," he went on, "I want you and him to join me in my private box for dinner and the main event." His face alive with showmanship, the First's voice rose with gentle anticipation. "We're having a quartet of cephalid deep-sea warriors fight to the death against four flying Nantuko bug people. The Master of the Games is going to enchant the arena- cancel gravity-to let them float around freely, so they can have a good and proper crack at each other."

"We'll be there by the opening horn, Pater."

"Outstanding." The First crossed his arms behind his back.

"The First is wise."

"Long live the Cabal."

Skellum was escorted from the chamber and went off to tell Chainer the news.