Lazarus Rising

1.21 Sempter Urbaine

Sempter Urbaine sat in a jewel encrusted seat opposite Cheyenne, twitching like he was strapped in an electric chair waiting for the switch to be thrown. He'd rolled up the bottom of his stinking robe and was rubbing his dust covered feet through a pristine white fur rug, leaving long stains of ochre across it, like blood trails in the snow. In front of him a brazier full of crackling coals threw a rolling ball of heat into the cold stone room. By the window, the man in the mask stood silently, manikin still, watching the orb of the setting sun as it sailed across the horizon, turning the distant mountain ranges into peaks of dusted cinnamon.

Urbaine had said nothing to her or to the masked man since he'd entered the room. For hours he'd picked at his callused feet, pulling a series of grotesque expressions as he did do. As if he were not being watched, he went through a cycle of faces that Cheyenne could only guess the meaning of. Squeezing up his inked pug nose, revealing a mottled row of stained teeth, his aspect rapidly turned from anger to rage, glee to confusion, ecstasy to doubt. It was like watching a mad man in a Victorian gaol. Occasional he seemed to doze off, coming to with a snarl, or jumping up, only to sink back into his chair, silent in sullen reflection, his grey smoke eyes set on her.

Occasionally he'd go to a bag by the fire and pull handful of powder out and throw it carelessly on the coals, filling the room with a suffocating sweet smell that made her feel sick. The room stank. Sweat, blood and urine mixed with the syrupy heady fragrance of the incense. Slurring, mumbling, occasional descending into a series intelligible whispers with someone he imagined was with them, Urbaine seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. Once, slapping his forehead with the palms of his hand, he jumped up shouting, "Stupid stupid, stupid," his strange blackness flaking off him like a series of peeling lizard's skins. Then he settled back down in his seat, to tear at his cracked fingernails with his teeth, spitting the ripped pieces into the fire.

Cheyenne tested the bindings holding her hands to the chair she had been tied to. Two powerfully built guards stood by the arched doorway, arms crossed over their leather jackets, feigned disinterest in Urbaine's bizarre behaviour. But, she could tell their focus was fully on the monk, like the close attention of dogs to their master, who were used to being kicked if they didn't respond fast enough.

She tried to supress the insane pounding in her head. If it was her proximity to Urbaine or the blow from the sword she couldn't tell. She wondered where Shelvocke and Lazarus were. Her mind drifted to the reason she was there, to Haydens, her aunt and the killing of Sterling Stenz. She'd felt coming to Mars had been a longshot of Haydens, but looking at the agitated monk, she was not so sure. Perhaps he was the key that would unlock many locks in this mystery. Then a sudden thought came to her. Was Urbaine like Rovin? All this was a facade, an act to distract her. He may have powers she was not even aware of. She could be sitting here, while he slowly sucked her brain dry of all her thoughts. She needed to careful. Driving the pain from her head, she expunged any thoughts of the others from her mind and sought something other than the unhinged Urbaine to focus on.

Her eyes wandered. The room was wide and long, stone built with a high vaulted ceiling and two thin windows that looked into the blackness of night beyond. In one corner hung a suit of armour, similar to the ones she'd seen the warriors wearing in the desert. With the fearsome growling face of an unrecognisable beast, it was smaller than the ones she's seen elsewhere and had been badly repaired to fit a man of wider girth. She assumed it was Urbaine's.

On a series of racks, on the far wall, above a gold inlaid table scattered with parchment were horded a plethora of differing sized apothecaries jars. Filled with violet liquid, they contained peculiar things that swirled and jerked if as prodded by an unseen sick.

When the sun vanished and the room drifted into a medley of shadow and trembling light Urbaine spoke. The sudden rasping of his voice making her jump. "Why have you come here, Investigator?"