3 - TRAITOR TO THE THRONE

The Kyrios secured them a private room, and the three sat around a square, crystalline table. Devina sat with her back to the door. For anyone else, this would’ve been operatively clumsy, a potential vulnerability; for her, it was a statement of power. It said, nothing and no one can surprise me.

Mezamir poured himself another drink. He went to refill Cossara’s glass, but she waved him off. She was doing an admirable job at staying composed, though she was undeniably tense. Even a small amount of visible tension from her was shocking to see. All Seeking Hand Operatives were hard to shake, but he’d always viewed his partner as particularly cold and stoic.

Mezamir, however, was perfectly at ease. In part, the alcohol was to thank for that. Couldn’t help but feel, though, that the Kyrios was judging him for that. To openly be committing a crime right in front of the second highest authority in the Autarchy…

Devina regarded the two of them with those bright, piercing eyes. “First, I need to know if either of you two have any unfinished business in the city. What’s your current assignment?”

An interesting question. Mezamir might’ve assumed that, as the head of their order, she would know the answer to it—but then, there were hundreds, if not thousands of operatives and assets. He could hardly expect her to be able to stay up to date with every second individual in the complex web of the Seeking Hand.

Cossara said, “Nothing unfinished. Our assignment is broad and left to our discretion—we are simply to infiltrate and root out seditious groups in the city of Sytara. We were embedded in our particular faction of traitors. Our goal was to arrest them and interrogate them, though as you likely already know, Kyrios, an unpredictable variable resulted in their deaths. We are currently unattached to any group.”

Devina nodded. “Good. I’m reassigning the two of you immediately.” Her left hand flickered out, fingers twitching, signaling, directive of the highest importance.

“We live to serve,” Mezamir said, and to his shame, he slightly slurred his words, and caught Cossara’s judgemental glance.

“Yes,” said Devina. “You do. What do the two of you know about the Lochagos?”

“They’re the elite assassin order of the Archon,” Cossara recited as though from a book. “Selected as children. Trained from a very young age, all the way to adulthood. Physically and psychologically manipulated in order to be perfect weapons. Many of them possess minor gifts from the Archon.”

Devina leaned back in her chair. “In other words, they are very similar to Seeking Hand operatives. Everything you just said applies to the two of you as well. But answer this: what makes the Lochagos different to us operatives?”

Mezamir put down his drink, frowned. “They’re intolerable to be around.”

Cossara shot him another glance, almost scowling. She said, “They are tightly controlled and directed. Their every action is dictated by the Lochagos masters and thus, by extension, the Archon himself. We, on the other hand, are allowed discretion and free reign, as long as everything we do is in the best interests of the Autarchy.”

Devina offered them a slight smile. “Very good. You always have been incredibly promising, Cossara. Your swiftness of thought is impressive.”

Mezamir remained silent. To be outshone by Cossara was nothing new. They each had their talents, but Cossara was by far the more intelligent. It was eerie to hear her sometimes, like listening to something inhuman. Well. He supposed they were inhuman. But Cossara moreso than most. He was used to it by now, had in fact gotten used to it years ago, but now, under the watchful gaze of Devina, it was difficult not to feel inadequate.

“Thank you, Kyrios,” Cossara bowed her head.

Devina turned to Mezamir. “Now, answer me this: is it possible for a Seeking Hand operative to betray the Autarchy?”

“I reckon so,” Mezamir said. “We’re still human. All humans are fallible. We’ve dealt with one or two rogue operatives in our time.”

“Yet you undergo loyalty conditioning.”

“True,” Mezamir said, wary. Never a good thing to think about the conditioning too much. “But it’s my understanding that we are not conditioned so much that we are robbed of individuality. It makes us more effective.”

Devina nodded. “All true. Now, is it possible for a Lochagos to betray the Autarchy?”

“No,” Cossara said immediately.

“Why not?”

“They aren’t given the same individuality. Their conditioning is absolute.”

“Why?”

“Because…they are too dangerous.”

“No.” Devina looked at Mezamir. “Why?”

“Because they’re blunt tools?”

“Is that an answer or a question?”

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Mezamir clenched his jaw. “An answer, Kyrios.”

“You’re correct. They are blunt tools, to be wielded. But to correct you, Cossara, it should be understood they are not more dangerous than a Seeking Hand operative, although they are more lethal. They are killers. You are also killers, but you are more than that. To get back to my point…Mezamir, do you think it is possible for a Lochagos to turn traitor?”

Mezamir considered the question for a moment. The question-and-answer format of the conversation brought him back to his youth, to the long years of training. “Yes,” he said finally.

“Why?”

“I don’t believe any conditioning can absolutely guarantee a singular outcome in every single individual. There will always be an outlier. Unpredictable variables.”

“Good.” Devina smiled once more. “You two are a formidable couple. I can see why you were paired together. There’s real love there, too. That’s a powerful thing. But yes, Mezamir, you are correct. It is possible. And I know it is possible because we have one such Lochagos on our hands as we speak. That is why I’ve come to the two of you. I need you to find him, interrogate him, and ultimately, eliminate him.”

For a second, neither of them said anything. Mezamir reached for his glass, ran a finger along its rim. He’d met several Lochagos before throughout the course of his operative life, but only ever in passing. He knew their absolute lethality by reputation alone, and their reputation was fearsome indeed. Hunting one was a terribly dangerous proposition—but then, they were Seeking Hands. Everything they did tended to be dangerous.

“We understand, Kyrios,” said Cossara.

“I’m sure you do. You will find the traitor in Nyanthus, according to our best intelligence. His true name is Alecto, though of course, there’s no telling what name he’ll be operating under. There is very little I can tell you aside from that. He is a veteran Lochagos, with countless kills. He knows how to hide and how to evade hunters. To be entirely honest with you both, this will not be an easy thing. But there are Seeking Hand resources in Nyanthus, and they will be available to you.”

“Why?” Mezamir asked. “I mean, why did he turn traitor?”

Devina pursed her lips. “Who can say why anyone chooses to turn their back on their own countrymen? But to be sure, we live in a time of treachery. Marak is not the most popular man in the world. His actions, although committed for the ultimate good of the race, are, on the surface, often brutal. Many lack foresight and become disillusioned.”

“Weakness,” Cossara spat.

“Indeed.”

Mezamir studied the Kyrios’s face. The way she’d casually used the name of the Archon, Marak, was another reminder of just who this woman was. For her to come to them in person, to give them this task, meant that it was, as she’d first signaled, of the utmost importance.

Of course, they had no choice but to obey.

“My Kyrios, the Lochagos will die by our hand. Have no doubt,” he said.

“I have no doubt. The two of you are perhaps the brightest stars in the order. Sure, there are those who have accomplished more, who have already forged their legacy…but they are old and past their prime. You two are young, skilled, dedicated. That is why I’ve come to you in the flesh.” Devina stood. “I have incredibly high hopes for both of you.”

The two of them rose at the same time and bowed their heads.

Devina said, “Remember, however, before the traitor is killed, I want him thoroughly interrogated. Every relevant piece of information must be squeezed out of him. I will want the transcript once the deed is done.”

“By your will, Kyrios.”

Devina looked them over once more, nodded, then turned and exited the private room. The door closed behind her, leaving the two of them standing there in silence.

They glanced at each other.

“Well,” Mezamir said. “Shit.”

Cossara made a face. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be like that. This is a great honor.”

“Or a death sentence.”

Cossara’s eyes slightly widened. “You’ve had too much to drink, husband. We can handle a single Lochagos. And even if we couldn’t, even if we did die in the process, then so be it. We would die in the line of duty, obeying our Kyrios.”

Mezamir sat back down. Maybe she was right. Maybe he had had too much to drink. And shit, maybe the Archon was right and the stuff truly should be illegal. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, attempting to ward off a headache that was forming off in the distance like an oncoming storm. “My apologies. I’m drunk.”

Cossara touched his arm. “We should sleep, then depart in the morning.”

Mezamir sighed. “Nyanthus…that’s, what, a five-week ride from here?”

“We could take a ship and make it in three.”

“Ah, but you know how I hate the sea…dead gods, the nausea…”

“What’s that I hear? An agent of the Autarchy who can’t handle a little bit of water?”

“I’d say that the sea is more than just ‘a little bit of water…’”

Cossara leaned forward and pinched his cheek. “Do you think you’ll survive?”

“The way you talk to me sometimes…I might have to do something about it.”

Cossara’s eyes glinted in the low light. “Like what?”

Mezamir darted forward, grabbed her, and pulled her close. She tried to playfully twist out of his grip but while she was the more intelligent one, Mezamir was faster and stronger. He reeled her in and kissed her hard.

“Hunting a Lochagos,” he murmured between kisses, “might be the most dangerous thing we’ve done.”

Cossara turned her head, exposing her neck to his lips. “They’re living weapons. But so are we, and so much more. Plus, there are two of us.”

That was the difficult part. Alone, it wouldn’t seem like such an intimidating prospect. But with Cossara, the danger was so much more real. She was his ultimate weakness, just as he was the very same for her. It was why all Seeking Hand operatives were paired at a young age. It made them stronger, yet also created a vulnerability.

“You’re afraid,” Cossara said, looking into his eyes.

“Of losing you, yes.”

She squeezed his hand. “We won’t let that happen.”

A naive statement. They both knew it. Still, Mezamir chose to simply accept it. It was a nice sentiment and he wished that was how the world really worked, but Mezamir was twenty-eight; they’d been operating in the field for nine years and in that time he had been disabused of such notions.

Mezamir winced. His head was starting to throb. His tolerance for alcohol was abysmal, even despite his enhanced metabolism. “Sleep, then, as you say.”

Cossara drifted toward the door. “Come, husband. We have an assassin to kill.”