Chapter 16 - The Heart of the Empire
Captain Erevex, leader of the Empress’ guardsmen, slowly made his way down into the deepest, blackest pits of the royal dungeons, far beneath the Winter Palace. The captain was a physically imposing man, with long black hair woven into tangled braids running down his back and a stern yet handsome face perpetually set in a mocking expression. An eyepatch covered the scarred remains of the right eye he had lost in battle. For the moment, he was smiling to himself.
Ever since the return of the Empress and her retinue a few days previously, he had expected to hear from the Master regarding his next set of orders. Captain Erevex was a soldier who fought for coin and nothing else, and the Master was willing to pay him in secret almost twice what the Empress thought his services were worth. He had been staunchly loyal to the Master ever since. One of the very few agents woven into the Master’s ever-expanding web of influence and intrigue aware of his true identity, he served as the liaison between the Master and most of his followers. He guarded the Master’s secret jealously and was especially cautious whenever he went to meet with the Master to ensure that he wasn’t followed by any of the Empress’ spies, more of whom seemed to be keeping an eye on him with each passing day.
Clearly, the Empress suspects that I have a hand in the conspiracy, but doesn’t have enough evidence to feel justified in acting on her suspicions just yet. No matter. That old crone has had her chance, Captain Erevex thought. Her days of ruling will soon end. The Master will take his rightful throne, and I will be amply rewarded. Despite these ideal thoughts, Captain Erevex had no illusions that the Master had any special attachment to him among all his followers. However, he also knew that he was too useful to be casually discarded as the Plague Rats had been when they had failed to capture the Master’s enemies. As Erevex had expected, when the Master had returned, he had received a new mission. Unlike many of the tasks that the Master had given him in the past, it was a relatively simple duty: all he had to do was free one very specific prisoner from the Empress’ dungeons.
And what a prisoner, Captain Erevex thought with a twisted grin. If the Empress knew what I was doing here today, she would have me hung on the spot. It is a good thing she is distracted elsewhere by the preparations for her jubilee.
Captain Erevex couldn’t keep his glee contained any longer; peal after peal of mocking laughter rang out as he journeyed deeper and deeper into the labyrinthian mazes of dungeons built upon dungeons beneath the imperial complex that served as the beating heart of Melkis, and by extension the rest of the empire. The so-called Winter Palace, constructed centuries prior by one of the Empress’ ancestors and expanded by every following sovereign, marked the clear seat of royal rule. It stood in sharp contrast to its twin, the Summer Palace, built far beyond the city’s edge, which the Empress had designed mostly for show and as a place to escape to when the heat become oppressive in the city’s heart at the summer’s peak.
Here is where all of the empire’s memories lie, Captain Erevex considered. Its memories, and its secrets.
Sputtering torch in hand, Captain Erevex came at last to the section of the dungeon known as “shadesclaw,” so called because of the utter lack of light within. Here was where the foulest of the Empire’s prisoners had been banished for half a millennium, far from the light or any hope of freedom. One could not even enter shadesclaw without a specially signed note from the Empress herself. No one had ever been let loose from shadesclaw. Until today.
Stepping past the two guards standing at the tunnel’s entrance, who saluted smartly and approached him. “Sir,” one of the guards said. “We’ll need to see your signed orders from the Empress.”
“Ah,” Captain Erevex said, reaching into his armor as he did so. “Of course.” He withdrew a note written from the Master, cunningly forged in the Empress’ own handwriting and with her special seal at the bottom. The guards looked it over, their expressions stunned.
“Sir,” the guard said, gulping as he spoke. “This note from the Empress…it says you are to free…”
“I know,” Captain Erevex said, curtly cutting the man off mid-sentence. “I hardly understand it myself. Regardless, orders are orders. Stand aside so I can fulfill my duty.”
The guards saluted once more, moving aside to allow Captain Erevex to pass. Neither man caught the momentary flash of mocking triumph on his face as they did so. After passing them, Captain Erevex stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.
“Oh, and one more thing. This meeting is of the upmost secrecy, understood? If you speak of this to anyone, even to myself or the Empress, I will personally see to it that you are executed. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” both guards said without hesitation.
“Very good,” Captain Erevex said, silently making a note to himself to have both men killed off as quickly and innocuously as possible. Best not to leave loose ends…
Journeying further into the passages beyond, Captain Erevex studied the tunnels around him by the small aura of light the sputtering torch he held created. Carved into the walls on either side were countless cells that hadn’t been opened since their prisoners had first been sealed within. The only connection each of these cells had with the tunnels beyond were narrow slits along the bottom, where plates of food could be passed to the prisoners. Many cries of despair or pleas for help arose from the cells as he passed, but Erevex studiously ignored them all.
At last, he came to the exact cell he wanted, the plaque on the door which told the prisoner’s name rotted away from moisture in the damp dungeon. Regardless, Captain Erevex knew from the Master’s highly detailed instructions that he had reached his destination. Pulling out his sword, Captain Erevex slammed its hilt against the door, repeating this process until the door’s ancient, rusted lock had snapped cleanly off. He slammed the door open, the reverberating sound echoing through the deathly still chambers of the dungeon, then entered the awaiting cell.
Inside the cell, illuminated for the first time in decades by the flickering torch he still held, Captain Erevex saw a wrinkled gnome of a man hunched up against the far wall. Raising his head, the prisoner looked at the light, then instantly glanced away again, shielding his eyes with a pained shriek. The prisoner had an enormous, unkempt beard reaching to his knees and long white hair that made him look more like some kind of cave dwelling creature than a person. Despite his apparent age, however, the prisoner looked to be in good health, and as he stood up Captain Erevex saw a physically powerful man who was no doubt his own match in strength and agility.
“Vasil Reinhand,” Captain Erevex said.
“I answered to that name, once,” the prisoner said gruffly, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Who are you?”
Captain Erevex, acting as instructed, repeated what the Master had told him. “Over five decades ago, you rediscovered the ancient hemomantic secret of draining the vitality of others to enhance your physique and prolong your life. You shared this secret with your apprentice, Gerok, hoping that he would assist you in becoming more than human. Instead, he exposed your plans to the Empress, who stripped you of your position of Royal Hemomancer and sentenced you to these prisons to languish.”
“Why waste my time repeating a tale I know all too well?” Reinhand asked, raising a hoary eyebrow as he did so.
“To show you that I know exactly to whom I speak, and that my offer is not made in ignorance. Many things have changed during your imprisonment, Reinhand,” Captain Erevex explained. “Someone has arisen who recognizes the value of you and your skills, and who wishes to put them to good use.”
Reinhand crossed his arms as he shook his head in disgust. “Save your flattery, child.”
“Assisting us will also mean revenge against the Empress,” Captain Erevex said. “And this offer will only be given once. Agree now or remain here to rot until the end of your days.”
Reinhand tilted his head to the side as he considered this. “It appears that you have convinced me, Sir,” he said. “What do you require of me?”
“In exchange for your freedom, all you need to do is teach the Master that very same hemomantic technique for which you were imprisoned, all those years ago. The rest, we shall take care of.”
Reinhand mulled over what Captain Erevex had said. “And once I do so, I’ll be free to do as I wish?”
“Whatsoever you wish,” Captain Erevex promised.
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Reinhand bared his teeth in an uncanny imitation of a genuine smile. “You drive an excellent bargain, Sir. I accept your terms.”
“Follow me,” Captain Erevex said, leading the former prisoner out and back through the dungeon towards the exit. They passed by the guards once more, who flinched back upon seeing Reinhand, who ignored them entirely.
Leaving the dungeons behind them, they ascended the ancient stone stairs back into the Winter Palace proper, where they stopped in a side chamber used to store various food items. The chamber was stuffed full of spiced meats hung above a large open fire, producing a thick smoke which helped further preserve them.
“The Master has prepared a special chamber just for you. It’s connected to a tunnel which used to help servants unobtrusively arrive at the royal chambers. It has fallen out of use in the rest of the palace staff and been sealed off, so you will be undisturbed. The Master himself will come to visit you periodically, to learn your special techniques. You are not supposed to leave those chambers, under any circumstances, until the Master’s overthrow of the Empress and ascension to power is complete. Once he has done so, you are free to do whatsoever you desire. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly,” Reinhand said. “And who, pray tell, does the Master have in mind for the vitality draining? The Empress herself? Or someone…more personal?”
Captain Erevex stared at the prisoner coldly. “That’s none of your business, Reinhand. The less you try to learn of the Master’s plans, the better a chance of surviving his rise to power you have.”
Reinhand laughed at that. “And what does that bode for you, fool? You think you can threaten me, little man? I have lived twice your lifetime, and I am still your superior in every way, physically and mentally. My hemomantic prowess has not dulled since my imprisonment, and you think you have the strength to threaten me? I think not.”
Captain Erevex’s hand slowly fell to his sword’s hilt at his waist. “Are you challenging me and the Master?”
“Hardly,” Reinhand said. “I’ll do exactly as you wish, but know this: I, Vasil Reinhand, am not a man to be trifled with. Toy with me, and I swear you will suffer as no man has suffered in fifty years. And I have never broken an oath.”
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“There’s never anything interesting to do around here,” Prince Grevel grumbled to himself.
His manservant, a tired, elderly man named Zilar, smiled patiently. “My lord, if there is anything you require, simply say what you wish, and it is yours.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” Grevel grumbled as he stared at the golden goblet in his hand, half-filled with wine. “Everything I want, I get. And it’s all so easy. Incredibly luxury? Born into it. Every skill I try to learn? Mastered in a matter of weeks. Even hemomancy came to me as easily as breathing. Nothing’s ever a challenge.”
“My lord?” Zilar said, uncertain. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what the problem is.”
“It’s all so boring!” Grevel moaned dramatically, throwing himself back onto the luxurious couch behind himself.
Zilar sighed and stepped over to the couch and picked up the goblet which Grevel had tossed aside, staining the antique carpet spread at his feet with the spilled wine. “My lord, perhaps you simply aren’t looking for a challenge in the proper situations.”
Grevel only responded with a groan as he turned over on the couch, burying his face in the expensive fabrics.
Zaril stepped back, knowing that his master was prone to fits like this and that by waiting patiently they would eventually pass. The two of them were in his master’s apartments in the Summer Palace outside of Melkir, where Prince Grevel lived year-round when not traveling the empire with the Empress as he had done recently.
The chamber was sumptuously decorated, the walls, floors, and even ceiling coated in expensive paintings that the prince had carefully chosen himself, creating the most valuable collection of art anywhere in the empire. At one end of the room was the prince’s bed, surrounded by thick, velvet drapes which when closed cut off nearly all light and sound. Directly across from that bed was the couch upon which the prince now laid.
“I don’t know why I even bother,” Prince Grevel said as he slowly sat up on the couch, his normally perfect blonde hair frazzled, contrasting with his crisply neat purple uniform done in the military style, as was popular among the Empire’s nobility.
“If you lack for something to do, you could perhaps review your studies, My Lord,” Zaril suggested politely.
Prince Grevel rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Zaril, you are almost as unsufferable as cousin Blyth. All he does when he isn’t sick half to death is read, read, read. Why do I even keep you as a manservant?”
“Because no one else will tolerate you, Sir,” Zaril said stoically.
Prince Grevel eyed his manservant suspiciously, looking for any sign of humor or irony in the man’s expression, and found none. “I suppose that’s true enough,” Prince Grevel admitted, before hiccupping once. “Tell me, Zaril, is there any mail for me today?”
“You have received no letters, Sir,” Zaril told his master.
“Are you sure?” Prince Grevel said suspiciously. “You wouldn’t be reading my mail again, would you, Zaril? I’ve told you what would happen if you did that.”
Zaril swallowed, adjusting his collar with a tug as he did so. “Of course not, Master Grevel. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I would hope so,” Prince Grevel said seriously. Instantly his mood changed back to a whimsical humor as he stood up and began pacing energetically around the room. After doing this for several minutes, he said, “Tell me what’s on the schedule for today, Zaril.”
“Ahem, yes, of course,” Zaril said, momentarily taken aback as he tried to recall the correct information. “Let me see…you have your normal fencing and hemomancy lessons in the morning, then you are meeting for lunch with the Duchess of Southern Regel, a very eligible bachelorette, from what I have been told. This afternoon, you have your normal riding lessons.”
Grevel shook his head in exasperation. “When I was on the road with Auntie, I thought that it was insufferable, traveling to all those dirty little towns and being forced to suffer through celebration after celebration. Now, I’d take a whole year of that over all this dreariness.”
Finishing the schedule, Zaril said, “…and this evening you are meeting with General Steroth.”
Grevel froze mid-pace, slowly swiveling to stare at Zaril. “Did you say General Steroth?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, Sir,” Zaril responded meekly.
Prince Grevel laughed nervously. “And what does that old doddering fool want with me?”
“Apparently, he has been commanded by the Empress herself to tutor you.”
Prince Grevel rubbed his fingers in circles along his temples, eyes closed. “And what does he wish to tutor me in, pray tell?”
Zaril cleared his throat, then said, “How to rule, I believe. Specifically, the arts of diplomacy and warfare.”
“Really?” Prince Grevel said, considering this. “How very, very interesting. So, dearest Auntie has finally realized that dear cousin Blyth won’t be much longer for this world. Good.”
Zaril looked at his master in horror. “Sir, that is the Crown Prince you speak of.”
“I know,” Prince Grevel said with an apathetic shrug. “But everyone knows he’s going to die, and soon. I was always the logical choice to rule. I’m just surprised that it’s taken her this long to realize it.”
“What are you going to do about it, Sir?” Zaril asked.
“What do you think? I’m going to do my best to learn everything Steroth tries to teach me,” Prince Grevel said, walking out of his chambers, Zaril following closely behind.
“But you never pay attention during your lessons!” Zaril spluttered.
“For these, I’ll make an exception,” Prince Grevel said. “Maybe ruling all of Waed will finally prove a challenge for me. It would be nice for something to truly be difficult for once.”
Zaril shook his head in amazement, surprised at his master’s sudden and inexplicable shift in emotions as usual. “Have a good day, Sir,” he said weakly as Prince Grevel left his chambers.
Prince Grevel, smiling and humming to himself, walked through the Summer Palace, idly waiting for his first lessons of the day to begin. He stopped, however, when he saw someone standing at the bottom of the flight of stairs below him, looking up at him. It was his cousin, Prince Blyth, dressed in his usual blue suit, long blonde hair messily strewn about his shoulders and across his face, nearly hiding his pale blue eyes.
Prince Grevel laughed. “Greetings, Cousin! Glad to see that you are feeling well enough to walk around the palace today.”
“Greetings to you as well, Cousin,” Prince Blyth said softly, his voice weak and barely above a whisper. “I must say, you seem in an unusually good mood today.”
“Hah! I’m always in a good mood, cousin,” Prince Grevel said as he sauntered down the stairs to stand next to Blyth. He slapped Blyth on the shoulder, who flinched in response. “Don’t be so easily startled, Blyth. One would think from your expression that you just walked by an open grave. Cheer up, why don’t you?”
Prince Blyth tried to smile, but the effort was clearly forced. “I’m merely curious as to why you are feeling so well.”
Prince Grevel brushed him off with a wave of his hand. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about, cousin. Let’s just say that I’ve been hearing some good things from the Empress.” Prince Grevel thought for a moment, then added, “I have a meeting scheduled with General Steroth later today. He’s going to teach me all about warfare, you know.”
“Is he, now,” Prince Blyth said quietly, his watery eyes following Prince Grevel’s every exaggerated movement. “Interesting. To what end do you think the Empress wishes him to teach you these skills?”
“I surely don’t know,” Prince Grevel said breezily. “Maybe she just finally got tired of me and decided to send me off to die in some border skirmish somewhere! Hah! Wouldn’t that be entertaining!”
“Quite,” Prince Blyth said quietly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me cousin, I have some historical documents I wish to study.”
“Of course, don’t let me keep you from your research,” Prince Grevel said magnanimously.
Never taking his eyes off his cousin, Prince Blyth slowly walked away, every step seeming to pain and physically exhaust him. Prince Grevel, arms crossed and smirking, watched him. Prince Blyth stopped at the end of the hallway to catch his breath, then looked back over his shoulder at Prince Grevel as he did so. “Did you know, I learned something very interesting about hemomancers and the royal family.”
Prince Grevel’s smile slowly faded. “What is it?”
Prince Blyth continued, “It seems that when our family first ascended the throne of Waed, our claim to it was based on our hemomantic prowess. It made us formidable in combat, in addition to being powerful healers. Down through every generation, the reigning monarch has been a hemomancer. Until the Empress, who did not inherit that gift, with it instead passing to her younger sister, who passed it on, then, to you. Don’t you consider yourself fortunate?”
Prince Grevel laughed. “Fortunate? Hardly. It’s bothersome, having to learn to maintain all those different patterns and methods of moving blood. It’s painfully dull; you wouldn’t imagine.”
“No,” Prince Blyth said softly. “I wouldn’t.” Without another word, he turned and limped away. Prince Grevel smiled at him as he departed, but there was no humor in his eyes.
Once the Crown Prince had left, Prince Grevel turned back and started in the direction he had originally intended to travel. “I need to learn from Steroth quickly,” Prince Grevel muttered. “Things around here are going to be changing soon. I think it’s finally going to get a little interesting.”