Deathless

Deathless Chapter Forty-Five: Empire

Chapter Forty-Five: Empire

Lindale offered his hand to Fercen. She paused for a moment before she accepted it. Her eyes still had yet to shrink to their normal proportions, and she still had yet to speak.

There was not much to tell about Vanya and Lindale's voyage from Morsar to the shores of the Red Bay. The Mage King had entrusted them with an escape vessel found in a secret cove. It was originally intended to be used for the Mages' departure from Morsar after its sack, but Alvarin had not allowed any of his vassals to flee, forcing them to fight to the last man.

Rows upon rows of unused vessels lined the cove, gathering dust. Only one of them was missing when they got there; it was the vessel Axan took during his lonely flight from Morsar.

They entered the Red Bay just as the Arlenia-Luartian fleet came under fire. Lindale had thought it madness for Ryfast to advance on the enemy, but he agreed that it was their only option. Madness begets madness, after all.

They just managed to weave through the mortar fire and burnt shipwrecks before reaching the shore amidst the chaos.

"Fercen," Lindale noted. "You're still alive."

Finally, the captain snapped out of her stupor. "Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing. Next question: what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Long story. No time to explain," Lindale said quickly. "But we're here to help. What happened?"

Fercen looked about her, at the failing Arlenian host, at the smouldering fleet in the distance, and sighed. "Well, as you can see, it's all gone to shit. The rebels outsmarted us on all fronts. Forced us to advance farther than we had to so they could trap us in the middle, pushed us against the bay so we'd have no escape, murdered our emperor so we'd have no direction. The perfect strategy."

"Iepenel? They killed him?" Vanya asked suddenly. It was the first time she'd spoken since they landed, Lindale noticed.

"Yes," Fercen said. "The bastards ambushed our men under a flag of truce. They got Iepenel, Ancelian, Caswil, and most of their guards. Only Kalun and a few of his men managed to escape."

"Kalun?" Vanya asked. "Never heard of him."

"He's Luartian. Came with the support Luartia sent us, and went up with Iepenel. The Luartians sent a governor, too, along with a sizeable war fleet."

"Since when did Iepenel play dice with Luartians?" Lindale asked. "I don't trust those coal-faced cowards."

"Our empire was falling apart," Fercen said. "Compromises had to be made."

Lindale mulled it over for a second. "You said that it was only this Kalun and his men that emerged from the parley?"

Fercen nodded. "Yes. Only them."

"None of the Arlenians?"

"No."

Lindale considered for a moment, then he spoke.

"I smell foul play," Lindale mused. "For one thing, I don't believe that it's Ashmur's type to murder at a parley. He's a devious bastard, yes, but he needs the support of his men, and to slaughter a guest under the flag of truce is exactly the kind of branding he doesn't want. That, alongside the fact that it was only the Luartians that got away from the encounter, reeks of treachery."

"By the gods," Fercen said. "I never considered... so it was Kalun all along?"

"Yes, Kalun was probably the one who dealt the final blow," Lindale said. "But this treachery must run deeper than him."

"How deep?" Fercen asked.

"This governor you mentioned," Lindale said. "Where is he now?"

"Still alive," Fercen said. "For the moment. You think it was his ploy?"

"No, the governor can only be a piece of the puzzle. There's no motive on his part. Whether or not Iepenel lives or dies doesn't matter to him; he still gets his prize."

"So who stands to gain from the death of Iepenel?"

"It won't stop with just Iepenel," Lindale said. "Ancelian and Caswil are dead, too. I heard tell that Rowlec was killed as well. These aren't isolated cases, Fercen. They have to be part of a deeper plot to get rid of the Arlenian high command."

"Those goddamned Luartians," Fercen said. "So they've been playing us all along. Does honour mean nothing to them?"

"The prospect of gain tends to override a man's sense of humour. The mines taught me that," Lindale said. "And here, Luartia stands to gain much more than a morsel of food. They want Arlenia; all of it."

"We will never bow to the likes of them," Fercen said firmly. "The Arlenians are loyal to their emperor."

"An emperor without any heirs," Lindale said. "The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Imagine this: the battle is won, but all the high-ranking Arlenians: Agron, Ryfast, Thorgar, Rowlec, Caswil, Ancelian, and Iepenel, are slain. Who stands to take power?"

"Isylric. The governor. Luartia," Fercen realised.

"Exactly. And most of their job is already taken care of. They just need to win this battle, and Arlenia is theirs."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know," Lindale said. He thought about it for a moment. "Unless, of course, we can go ahead and murder Kalun and Isylric."

"That can be done," Fercen said, a strange twinkle in her eyes.

This time it was Lindale's eyes that widened. "Are you sure?"

"Easy," Fercen said. "I'll disguise myself as a rebel assassin, get myself a crossbow, and pick them off from a distance."

Lindale nodded. "If you can do that, it just might work. The Luartian commanders won't have anyone to rally to. They may be convinced to leave Arlenia in peace."

"It will be done, then," Fercen said. "I'll have my men dig in here, try to hold them off for as long as they can. And what will you do?"

"We're going after Ashmur," Lindale said. "He's still at the summit, isn't he? It's hard to explain, but if we can dispatch him, we may yet be able to turn the tide."

Fercen nodded. "I won't ask any further. Just make sure he gets what he deserves. May the gods be with us."