The Last Goddess

by C.E. Stalbaum

  Chapter Nineteen

   

  The last time Prince Kastrius had visited Haven he’d been a boy, and the city had been a very different place. The name had even been different: Arteris. It had existed in one form or another for almost as long as Sandratha, but unlike the capital, it had been sacked by invading armies many times. Near the end of the First Empire, it had been completely destroyed by pillaging hordes of barbarians from the south. During the Second, opportunistic Vakari marauders had torched most of the outlying villages and destroyed several of the walls.

  Arteris’s final stand had come near the end of the last war when General Bremen had crushed an Ebaran force three times the size of his own. Nearly half the city had been destroyed in the process, however, and the moment the war ended the Empress began its speedy and expensive reconstruction.

  Now, ten years later, Arteris was barely even recognizable. The high walls were heavily reinforced, but the designers had taken great pains to hide the fortifications from all but the most discerning eye. The sentry posts spaced at even intervals around the city bared little resemblance to the archer towers or mage spires of most garrisons, and the patrolling troops on the other side of the wall weren’t even visible from the ground. In fact, as Kastrius approached the northern gate, he barely saw any soldiers at all. Faceless in particular were notably absent.

  He curled his lip in disgust as he and his escort continued riding towards the gate. He could see his mother’s Edehan cowardice all over the design. The view was meant to provide a balance between welcome and safety. Conventional guard towers and siege weapons would shatter that illusion, and rightly or wrongly, the Faceless had become synonymous among many Esharian nations for Darenthi aggression. She wouldn’t want them to spoil her little illusion of “the City of Unity.”

  Bremen had complained to him many times about how easily the Ebarans could take Haven once they got past the Wall, and while Kastrius didn’t consider himself much of a tactician, even he could see a dozen obvious flaws in the city’s defenses. He was suddenly glad his face was covered behind the thick cowl of his cloak—at least no one would notice his permanent scowl as they rode in.

  Perhaps half an hour later his escorts led him to a battered warehouse within the Farglow District, more commonly called “old town.” Most of the buildings here were ancient and dilapidated; the ongoing renovations hadn’t hit this area yet, and it was possible they wouldn’t ever get this far. It wasn’t near the docks or the palace, which meant that most visitors would never see it. That put it rather low on his mother’s list of priorities; after all, who cared about the native Darenthi citizens when you could impress thankless foreign dignitaries instead?

  Kastrius shook his head in disgust and glanced to the door. A tall, well-muscled man with black hair and nice clothing stepped out as the prince dismounted.

  “Welcome to Haven, my prince,” he said, offering a half-bow. “My name is Gralis, Senator Veltar’s assistant. I have informed him of your arrival and he promised to be here shortly.”

  “Good,” Kastrius replied, glancing about the streets. Aside from a few beggars and the occasional pedestrian, the area seemed empty. It was a stark contrast to the suffocating bustle of the palace district they had just passed through. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  “If you’ll come inside, I’ve prepared some refreshment. It is best to keep you off the streets as much as possible.”

  “Very well.”

  For as terrible as the building looked on the outside, the interior could have easily passed for a noble’s mansion. The carpet was clean and new, and the furniture looked comfortable. Kastrius could smell food cooking from a stove in an adjacent room. It was a pleasant change from the single room he had been cooped up in for much of the last few months. His escort, all Balorite soldiers loyal to Veltar, remained outside, and he and Gralis appeared to be the only ones here.

  “I’m surprised the senator was willing to invest in a place like this,” Kastrius commented, taking off his riding gloves and stretching out on one of the plush red chairs in the center of the room. “I imagine you have to move frequently.”

  Gralis smiled as he set down a cup of tea and a plate of fruit in front of the prince. “The Empress has few eyes in this part of the city. The people here have suffered greatly under her policies. She rebuilds houses for immigrants at the expense of her loyal citizens.”

  “Typical,” Kastrius grumbled, plopping a talberry in his mouth. He wondered how much this man knew about their plans and decided chatting with a servant wasn’t worth the risk. He contented himself with food and drink for a little while before Veltar stepped in the door. The short, pudgy old man was notably alone.

  “I’m glad you were able to make it safely, my prince,” the senator said with a nod. “I trust my people were appropriately helpful.”

  “They did their jobs. I’ve been largely out of touch for the last two days, so the question is: have you been doing yours?”

  Veltar smiled. Gralis walked by and offered him a plate of cheese, but he shook his head and sat down instead. “General Bremen has rendezvoused with my forces inside Ebara. They’ve entered the Highland Forest, and he suspects the Kirshane base is somewhere inside. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  Kastrius grunted. He still didn’t relish the thought of Bremen having to rely on so many of Veltar’s people. The old man already had entirely too much leverage over their plans as it was. Perhaps Kastrius would get lucky and the Kirshane would kill most of them—so long as they still recovered the Kirshal, of course.

  Regardless, this seemed like the best time to finally try and knock his ally down a notch. The prince’s agents had finally gotten him the information he’d requested just before he left the capital. Now that he was finally here in Haven, he couldn’t afford to let his associates get too confident, lest they forget their ultimate place in all of this.

  “I’m still a bit shocked by your sudden change of heart regarding our search for the Kirshal,” Kastrius said.

  Veltar shrugged. “I’ve already explained it to you. We are running out of time. Unity Day is one week from today, and unless Bremen can finish his business quickly, he will miss the celebration. I would prefer to have both of your minds clear and focused on the matter at hand.”

  “Is that so? You know, I seem to recall a rather interesting rumor surfacing during your reelection bid a few years ago. Your opponent claimed that you had once been a devout Edehan—a priest, no less.”

  “I’m certain my prince is wise enough not to treat campaign rumors as fact.”

  Kastrius held back a smile—it wasn’t time, not just yet. “In my experience there’s often a kernel of truth behind most accusations. This particular rumor didn’t seem to gain much traction at the time, but I took the liberty of having my people check into it. What they found was quite…intriguing.”

  “I’m surprised you were willing to exhaust resources on something so trivial,” Veltar said. His normally calm voice had tightened just a bit. “One might think it was a waste given what we’re up against.”

  “They told me you did, in fact, have strong ties to the Edehan faith,” Kastrius went on, ignoring the veiled insult. “They said that while you were originally born within your province, you barely spent more than a few weeks there in the last four decades.”

  “That’s hardly uncommon,” Veltar pointed out. “Many senators spend years away from home, either in the capital or within Haven.”

  “Yes, but this is quite different, I think. A few of the older locals remembered you as a younger man, and they said you left to join an obscure sect of Edehan monks.” He paused dramatically. “So you see, Senator, I started to wonder just who those monks were. How many obscure Edehan sects can there really be, after all?”

  Veltar clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

  “Just the truth,” the prince replied, finally letting a dark smile form on his
lips. It felt good to see the old man so uncomfortable, especially in person. A sending stone projection wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying. “To set the record straight.”

  Veltar glared at him for a few seconds before forcing his own faint smile. He then waved Gralis over with the cheese plate and took a few bites. “I once served the Edehan faith, it’s true. For many years, in fact. Fortunately, Abalor eventually saw fit to show me the error of my ways, and now I am here.”

  “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden interest in the Kirshane, would it? An ancient Edehan sect dedicated to finding and protecting the Kirshal?”

  “You want me to admit to you that I was one of them?” Veltar asked. “Very well, then consider this my admission. I know the Kirshane well, and I understand the folly of an endless search for a mythical figure.”

  Kastrius hunched forward. “So if you don’t believe she is real, then why the interest in our search? Petty revenge? Payback for wasting years of your life in search of a ghost?”

  The fake smile disappeared. “You have no idea what I have sacrificed to get where I am.”

  “I know you lost your daughter a few years ago,” Kastrius said, “though the villagers barely seemed to know her at all. Some didn’t even believe she was yours given how much taller she was. They did say you were obsessed with training her to fight and become a loyal Balorite, and then one day she inexplicably joined the army. A few months later she was killed during that Tethelian border skirmish, and your popularity vaulted as a result. And yet no one ever found a body…”

  “I don’t appreciate your tone,” Veltar warned. Next to him, his aide seemed to tense.

  Kastrius wondered if he should back off. He was outnumbered here, after all, and it was possible anger might drive them to do something stupid if he kept pressing. But even without a Siphon, he was confident in his ability to defeat an old man and a glorified butler. Besides, if he could just make Veltar squirm a bit more, it would all be worth it…

  “I shall use whatever tone suits me,” Kastrius said haughtily, “or have you forgotten that I am your prince?”

  “A man who has given nothing to his country and yet stands to inherit its power,” Veltar murmured coldly. “Perhaps you forget that without my assistance, you would still be trapped in your mother’s tower. And you certainly would have lost your only chance at chasing down your Kirshal.”

  Kastrius chuckled. “No need to get upset, Senator. I’m merely trying to uncover the truth.”

  “The truth, my prince, is that whether or not Bremen manages to find her, the Kirshane possess a trove of valuable information that could benefit us greatly. In fact, it may give us exactly what we need to be rid of your mother once and for all.”

  Kastrius paused. That wasn’t the response he expected. “What knowledge are you talking about? Ancient scriptures and Edehan history books aren’t going to help us pull a coup.”

  The festering annoyance in Veltar’s face immediately vanished, and it was replaced by a smile that was entirely too self-satisfied for the prince’s liking. “Definitely not history books. I am talking about weaving techniques—Balorite spells lost for generations.”

  “What kind of spells?”

  “The kind that will allow you to weave the Fane without the burden of the Flensing.”

  The prince snorted. “And you think I’m crazy for chasing after the Kirshal…”

  “The techniques are very real, I assure you,” Veltar said coolly. “I have seen them in use myself. The Kirshane understood this power, and they feared what it represented. Imagine the might of our military when our magi are no longer tethered to a Siphon—imagine if the Fane were free and open to any with the will to control it. It is the future Abalor has envisioned for this world…and we will be the ones to bring it to Him.”

  Kastrius’s lip twitched. “You almost sound like Bremen. You always struck me as more of an opportunist than a man of faith.”

  “I’m a man who understands his place in this world. I serve Our Lord Abalor, and so does General Bremen.” The senator cocked his head faintly. “And so do you, my prince.”

  “Of course,” Kastrius murmured. A minute ago, he’d been confident that he’d finally gained the upper hand here, but now he once again felt like the weakest link in their little triad.

  “I promised you another Siphon when you arrived,” Veltar continued, “but once Bremen crushes the Kirshane, I can provide you with something much, much better.”

  The very thought of weaving without the Flensing was absurd—at least as absurd as the legend of Septuria or the Kirshal—but Kastrius couldn’t deny the appeal. It was the dream of every mage to wield their power without hesitation, and he was no different. The threat of the Flensing had assuredly stifled the creativity of thousands of potential magi over the years. Those who could have gone on to become powerful magisters had instead chosen lives as merchants or soldiers just to avoid Edeh’s Curse. In a world liberated from her petty restrictions, the possibilities were truly endless…

  And Veltar would have given it to them. The man knew far too much for his own good. Kastrius had come here determined to score a victory, to remind the senator that he was an indispensable part of their plans—only to again be shown how impotent he truly was.

  The prince shook his head. “General Bremen won’t be pleased when he finds out that he’s been sent on an excursion merely to sate your vengeance.”

  “Bremen is a soldier, and he knows we are already fighting a war. He also understands the importance of our alliance here. If we cannot work together, we have no hope of success.”

  Kastrius grunted softly. He tried to imagine the general’s reaction when he found out that their associate was once a member of the Kirshane. He would probably be furious. Military men tended to place exaggerated importance on loyalty and honesty from those around them. Hopefully Kastrius could use that as leverage later.

  “You mentioned finalizing our plans.”

  “So I did,” Veltar said, waving Gralis over. “A number of items require your personal attention.”

  Kastrius nodded. Yes, they did still require his attention. They needed him. No matter what Balorite secrets Veltar uncovered, no matter how many men were loyal to him, Kastrius was still the prince here. The people would never accept a sovereign without royal blood on the throne. They could plot and scheme all they wanted, but at the end of the day, the Republic would still be his.

  He repeated the words to himself again and again as he looked over Veltar’s plans and tried to ignore how empty they sounded each and every time.