Shadows Bleed

XXXIV

XXXIV

The palace was of breadth and scope I had not believed even possible. The entry hall was simply breath-taking, the ceiling over a hundred metres above us, the many level of the palace visible from below. Servants and Morbound alike hastened about their tasks like bees in a hive. Large, arched columns lined the red-carpeted hall as we walked deeper into the cavernous depths of the palace.

"The palace itself is only a hundred years old," Gabriel explained while he guided me through. "It was built during the reign of our Holy Emperor's father, Eliezer the Third, with the purpose of being both an iconic symbol of the Imperium's wealth and military might."

"Well he certainly didn't fail in that regard," I muttered and Olar groaned.

"It's not too late," he whispered to us both. "You can still let me go and we can put this behind us."

"Keep your mouth shut filth!" Gabriel snapped at him. "It's because of people like you the Emperor is so distraught; you'll get what you deserve."

I stifled a laugh, for I could see what Olar could not; the amused grin on Gabriel's face as he blithered righteously about a man and people he cared little for.

The atmosphere as we passed from the main vestibule of the palace and into a smaller, but still grand, passageway, shifted noticeably from light and spectacular to something sinister. The passage was lit dimly by hanging candelabras, soft light barely managing to creep around the edges of the pillars running parallel to the passage. Concealed in the shadows were Morbound, each pillar ominously masking a member of the Emperor's elite guard. They watched us from behind their menacing masks as we passed.

"Where are we going?" I asked Gabriel, unconsciously sidling a little closer to him as my eyes flickered back and forth over the shadows, alert for any sign of attack.

"I have to take you to the armoury first. They'll take your weapons," he explained. I started to object but he held up a hand to stop me. "It's standard procedure, Miss. Your weapons will be returned to you when you leave."

"Very well," I reluctantly agreed.

"And, as forewarning, the Morbound are a little handsy. They'll make sure you're not carrying anything that could be construed as a weapon, so just grin and bear it as they pat you down," he added with a chuckle.

"Ugh. How much longer?" I groaned as we reached a door.

"Not long at all," he answered, pushing the door open to reveal an expansive room. Racks of weapons ran the length of the walls, periodically interspersed by mounted armour. A dozen armed Morbound were stationed inside the armoury, the gaze of each flicking toward us as we entered.

In the stark lighting of the armoury I was able to finally take in the appearance of the Morbound and their traditional uniform. Each member wore a cuirass of steel with gauntlets and greaves atop light, leather robes permitting freedom of movement. Their faces were concealed behind ebony masks that resembled the face of a scowling man, hoods pulled over their scalps. While they looked more like thieves than warriors, there was no questioning their ability to fight and kill or the finesse and discipline they exercised while doing so. The Morbound were as ruthless as they were capable and it would be the poor luck of anyone to have to face them in combat.

And so it was, their reputation preceding them, that I made no fuss as a pair of them stripped me of my weapons and proceeded to run their gloved hands up and down over my body, sticking their hands into every pocket and crevice. 'Intrusive' doesn't quite capture their vigorous efforts.