The Venomancer

I.10 - The Painted Poacher

"... And following that, he - well, I'm relieved you gauge the severity," Cassa replied. He sounded grave. "I knew it'd only be a matter of time before kuzoroism ruled this province in the crown's stead. Tcha! The Era of Sorcery indeed. Why, the Gamlakhi insist it's a cult of egotists, half of them frauds, and should not be in place of a monarchy."

"You've changed your tune, Cassa."

"Details. Any road, since the Rera claimed the crown, frightful things have happened. A swell in ghûl populations mostly - even benign creatures have become hostile. So many commonfolk and highfolk alike have died of curses that burn their skin, congeal their blood and constrict their throats that the polls no longer matter. Dashaan is purging us, Tandei. That is inescapable fact. The frail and the poor die before they can even receive aid, and the Gamlakhi don't stand a chance of survival into the next season if this does not cease. There has already been so much bloodshed. See here."

Cassa yanked down the neck of his wine-coloured silk and presented a shiny pink scar across his skin.

Tan winced. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A horde of ghûls negotiated the walls while I was on duty in the lowgrounds a couple of months ago." He re-covered his collarbone. "It was a disaster. This is just a scratch, but it needed the urgent attention of the healers and a quarter of my annual salary."

"Maedhros' name..."

"Do you see what is happening to the rich amongst us? Our wealth now goes to the healers; they laboured for four days before it would stop oozing poisonous pus and the figures on my invoice rose with each one. And to the venomancers, too, for their anti-venoms. The people in the highgrounds employ the elementalists to guard their homes by night. We are a paranoid city steadily depending on kuzoroism for salvation, for safety and hope, and the Order grows wealthier by the day while Emperor Dashaan still rules it."

Tan's brow knitted. "And the Order consents this?"

"They are covetous pretenders who leave their apprentices to the labour. And I believe their Rera, our emperor, is behind this. Fiends have never dared roam within reach of our weapons, so why now while he sits the throne? These creatures ... " Cassa paused and collected himself. "These creatures... I saw something far more disturbing in them. Tandei, they did not attack out of fear, or even pause to drink blood, as is the beasts' innate desire. They killed as though they meant it."

Tan didn't like the intensity in Cassa's glistening eyes. "So, you're suggesting the Rera is a mass murderer? That he can control otherworldly beasts and picks off Fishfolk while ensuring every last marakgel transitions into kuzorocari assets? You're not sick, too, are you?"

"No."

"I only ask because this all sounds like delirium to me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Cassa, listen to yourself, my friend: power-seated villains and evil plots to purge a nation don't exist in real life. They're stories. Villains ... villains make the hero look good, and everybody cheers when they're conquered."

"Ha! Stories. Says the one raised in the forest, away from the corrupt politics of the desertlands. You know of the empire's colourful history, and this is not beneath a Rakhai man of ultimate status. I can't say with any certainty that my theories hold any weight, but it seems a timely occurrence, don't you think? The empress dies, the ghûls come en masse, and the Rera Kuzorocari takes control of the capital and saves the day. People are dropping like flies and the rich desperately turn to the Order. And for what? A little fear-mongering?"

"And you plan to stop him, do you?"

"Eventually, yes. Perhaps indirectly."

Tan snickered. "Lancier, poacher, outlandish conspiracy theorist - that's unbecoming of you, my friend. You can't blame me for having my doubts. What are his motives, even? There has to be more to it than earning his peoples' love, or better yet: their fear. That would make him a sad villain."

Cassa tapped the side of his nose and matched Tan's smirk. "Don't think I will trust you with everything I know just yet."

"Very well. If you won't tell me that, at least tell me what any of this has to do with me. Why must I stay put because you've heard some fantastic rumours in a city renowned for sleeping its way up the food-chain?"

"Because you can't leave. You're duty-bound -"

"Hold on! Duty-bound to what? Why?"

"You weren't a thief six years ago, Tandei Sol. You never saw out your contract."

"Don't you think I know that? I escaped that life. I died, remember?"

"Well, it seems the Fates have brought you back here. As a firm believer in the spirits, I say you're staying." Cassa nibbled idly on a sweetnut. "And there is nothing you can do about it if you want to help save anyone, including yourself. Help me, or the next letter from your dear Shara will be to tell you her son is in a grave."

What monster would use a child's life as insurance? Fuming, Tan ripped apart the currant-bread in his hands, staring hard at Cassa with contempt and stuck for a retort. If only looks could kill, Tan would be responsible for two deaths in less than a decade. If he left tonight he would be caught before he could reach the borders of Farba Province. Phaladri wouldn't see his next birthday if this bastard kept getting in the way.

"Do you still think we're at a stalemate?" Cassa snarled. "Go on, I dare you to run now. The door's unlocked."

Tan had spent the last half of his life running from responsibility. What difference did one more escape make?

***
A few words:

Hi there, Reader,

And thus concludes the first chapter of Venomancer, The Painted Poacher. Thank you for reading, commenting, voting, picking your toes, or whatever else you've been doing the other side of the screen. What do you think of Cassa Faro and his theories? A bit wild, or should Tan give the man a little credit? Will Tan make a dash for it like the thief he is, or will he stay put and play game?

Next update will be part one of the second chapter: The Wolves' Sentiment. See you there.