The Gods of Vice

by Devin Madson

  “Again you leap, Darius. Such important matters should come after the pleasantries, yes? I say you have changed and you should comment on whether I have. We could perhaps reminisce upon the night we met in the back field. I think of it often.”

  “Is that why you wore that robe?”

  The smile returned, giving him the appearance of volatility, but unlike truly mercurial men, Malice’s smiles were as likely to fade because he grew tired of holding them there. He had never been naturally expressive. “You remember,” he said. “I hoped you would.”

  “It’s a night that’s hard to forget.”

  “I wish I could take that to mean meeting me was hard to forget, Darius, but I will not presume upon the territory of our beloved father. Now would be a good time to mention Endymion, yes? I think perhaps the old man had a sense of humour. A Laroth-Otako bastard?” He laughed. “What better way to get back at the family he detested?”

  “He cared about Hana.”

  “Perhaps out of guilt. You know as well as I that he hated all Otakos save one.”

  It was so tempting to fall into conversation as though we were brothers united once again, but that would be to pretend there was no hurt, no anger. That nothing had changed.

  Malice slipped his hand into mine. It filled the mould of my palm, the feeling of relief palpable. The curse wanted to be used. For five years, my Empathy had scratched at the doors I shut upon it, its nails bleeding. It wanted to feel, to own, to control, every moment a fight to suppress it, to swallow it like a lump in my throat. To choose to be better. To do better. To serve.

  I had made those choices, but I couldn’t pull my hand away.

  “Five years is too long, my brother,” Malice said. “Think of everything we might have achieved. In that time, the empire might already have bowed to us. But no matter, no matter, we have time, yes? And this way it is so very neat, so very clever, and I know how much you love clever. Can you see it, Darius? Can you see how easy it is when they are all such fools?”

  “You helped Katashi rise to an even footing so he and Kin could rip the empire apart between them. Then you could rise like a saviour from the ashes.”

  “So poetic. How very much I missed you, Darius. No one else sees, no one else understands.”

  “No, nor would they see that you don’t really mean to do that at all.”

  Malice’s hand tensed in mine. “You see something more?”

  “I see you have kept Endymion despite the threat he poses to everything. Why? If we didn’t need him before, then we don’t need him now.”

  “We?”

  “A slip of the tongue,” I said.

  Malice looked down at our still-joined hands, and I pulled mine out of his grip. “Oh, Darius,” he laughed. “You can’t lie to me, yes? I know you far too well.”

  “And I know you,” I said. “You’re going to use Endymion. You’ll throw him between Kin and Katashi and see how fast they tear him apart.”

  His expression did not change. I couldn’t read him, couldn’t see if I was right without the Empathy I longed to use.

  “He’s getting stronger,” Malice said. “You haven’t been with him enough to see it, but he is getting stronger. He can tell you how many souls are in this castle and where they are. He can hear thoughts without touch. I have seen him read from another man’s mind and then kill him without a blink. Do you really think Kin or Katashi could destroy him? Even he doesn’t know how powerful he is, how powerful he could be if he keeps… consuming the world.”

  Endymion had sat beside me, all unwitting as his soul ate at mine, his desperation making it all the more voracious.

  “There will be a limit of course,” Malice added. “A breaking point.”

  There would be. We had studied the old accounts of Laroths long past in an attempt to learn what our father had been unable or unwilling to teach. A Whisperer had once been a name for any Empath with access to thoughts, not just feelings, until one scholarly Laroth had attempted to gather and categorise the information in the family library. He had discovered the few true Whisperers our family had produced over the years, men capable of hearing, feeling, controlling, and destroying, all without touch. What created one was a mystery, but what they all seemed to have in common was a rapid escalation in strength after Maturation and an early death.

  “He will soon grow beyond my power alone, yes?”

  I heard the words he did not speak, that it would take both of us to control Endymion if he lost himself to the Sight.

  Malice was smiling again. “I think you understand me, yes? If we do this together, Kisia will have an Otako god. Can you doubt he will go that path, even without my influence?”

  “I should have left him to burn.” Fear crept up my skin like a thousand hurrying ants. “Father Kokoro was right.”

  “Burn your own brother?”

  “I ordered General Ryoji to kill you.”

  “Only because you knew I would not die, yes?” he said.

  Malice put his hand on my forehead and I stiffened, expecting the burn of his Empathy. Instead, my headache eased from splitting to merely an ache. I wanted to hate the compassion he used like a weapon and might have been able to had I not known the depths of his heart.

  “You’re still fighting me,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He lifted his hand, and in the shock of the returning headache, I did not see him move, only heard the shift of cushions and the rock of the divan. Straddling my hips, Malice filled my world, nothing existing beyond his weight, his warmth, and the smell of opium lingering on his breath. The tip of his ponytail trailed across my cheek.

  “Don’t fight it!” he said. “You are a god, Darius, yes? Just let go.”

  The temptation to let go, to give in, to take his hand in mine and let the whole world of fools burn was right there at my fingertips. I could take it. I could walk away. Except the moment I did, I would fail. I would prove it was impossible to escape the curse. Prove I had been born a monster and could never change.

  “No. Kin rules Kisia. Now get off me.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I will fight for you, Darius. I don’t want to have to kill you, but I will if you make me.”

  “You won’t.”

  “Won’t I? I won’t let you leave me again. You have my word on that, yes?”

  “Get off.”

  He bent down, lips brushing my cheek. “Make me,” he said.

  My stomach was eating itself with hunger and every limb felt weak. To shove him away would achieve nothing beyond his amusement, so I gripped the earring dangling from his ear, pulling hard enough to stretch the flesh of his lobe. “Get off,” I repeated. “I will rip it out. You have my word on that too, yes?”

  He chuckled. “I like it when you play rough.”

  I tried to buck him off, but he caught my wrists and drove them into the cushions above my head, pinning me there as he kissed me. Utterly trapped, an intense spike of fear jolted through me and Malice gasped. He pulled back and in his moment of shock, I rolled, throwing him to the floor in a tangle of limbs and silk.

  A knock sounded on the door, and with my heart still thrumming, I pulled myself upright though every muscle ached.

  “Come in,” I said, leaving Malice in an ungraceful scramble to appear poised. Licking my dry lips, I could still taste him.

  The door slid a few inches, just enough for Hana to peer in, seeming to consider a moment and scan the pair of us before sliding it the rest of the way. “Both here.” She stepped inside. “That makes this quicker.”

  “Ah, Hana, my love,” Malice said, having gotten to his feet and straightened his robe, regaining his usual dignity. “How lovely to see you up and about again.”

  “Malice,” she said as she slid the door closed, her whole body stiffened to a statue of fury.

  “Oh dear,” he said, shaking loose hair from his eyes. “I think she’s angry with me too, my love, yes?”

  “You lied to me.”<
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  “Only a very little, and look how well it has turned out.” Malice’s gaze ran her up and down and his lips turned into a knowing smile. “When am I to wish you joy, little lamb?”

  Her cheeks reddened, his jibe doing nothing to stem her anger. “Never. I do not even wish you to speak to me. How dare you treat me like nothing but a piece of meat, nothing but a coin to be spent at the earliest opportunity?”

  “I preferred to think of you as a weapon, yes? Something to be employed in the task of bringing my dear Darius back to his senses.”

  “You would have let me die.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think you would. I know Darius rather too well for that.” He reached a loving finger to my cheek, and as I leant away, there was no mistaking the flicker of hurt and anger that crossed his usually impassive countenance. My head hurt too much to decide whether it was good or bad that he had felt my fear of him.

  Hana’s fingers curled to fists at her sides. “Some guardian you are,” she spat. “I hope you care more for your Vices. Even Conceit deserves better than you.”

  “Careful what you say, little lamb, there are some words that cannot be taken back.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “No? But you should be.”

  She gave him a disgusted look. “You have no more power over me, Malice. We are done.” Her gaze slid to me. “I pity you, Darius, having to deal with him for so long. Allow me to lighten your burden somewhat, in gratitude for what you have done for me but in the hope I never see you again.” She bowed, managing more stiff grace in that moment than she had during all my attempts to teach her decorum. “I am releasing you from your oath. I thank you for your service, Lord Laroth, but I no longer require your assistance or your presence. Now we need not pretend to like one another, and your loyalties need no longer be divided.”

  “There was another way to achieve the unification of my loyalties.” I was too tired to hide my bitterness, too broken to care. “A way that would have seen fewer people die, but by all means, my dear, stand there like an outraged paragon and look down on me for having sacrificed everything for the good of someone other than myself.”

  Hana’s cheeks reddened, but she set her teeth firmly. “Fine gratitude when I am giving you what you wanted. Freedom.”

  “If that is what you think I wanted, then you are both mistaken and selfish.”

  “Selfish? I—”

  Another knock fell upon the door, and a serving girl slid it open enough to bow upon the threshold. “Your meal, Lord Laroth. And His Majesty requires your presence in the throne room in an hour to take your oath.”

  She made a second little bow to Hana as, still seething, Hana opened the door the rest of the way to let the girl in. “Your chance now, I think, to choose whether you value your life or your loyalty more, Darius,” she said. “I will leave you to your meal. But I suggest you do not keep Katashi waiting.”

  “Spoken from experience perhaps?” Malice crooned.

  Hana spun on him. “I don’t want to see your face ever again. If I could order your execution, I would do it, comfortable in the knowledge that no one, no one, would miss you.” She spat on the floor at his feet, such rage in her eyes that it held even Malice frozen long enough for her to stride out, leaving the serving maid staring intently at the wall.

  Sightless eyes stared from crusted sockets, each head along the row a face I knew. They stared at the wall opposite, bloody handprints on their cheeks. Councillor Rhim, Lord Lastern, and Lord Talamir, their necks shrivelling as they dried. Even Master Hallan was there, the imperial secretary, his youthful face having something of disdain about its expression.

  “Friends?”

  There was a sneer in the guard’s voice, but misgiving outweighed anger. Sixteen years of relative peace had come to an end, and here in this hallway, where lords and councillors were allowed no dignity, was the proof.

  “Acquaintances, certainly,” I said. “Tell me, did these men refuse to take the oath?”

  “They did. And now it’s your turn. His Majesty is waiting.”

  Behind me, the throne room doors creaked open and the cumulative gaze of dozens fell upon my back. A new court had gathered, not so different in appearance to the one that had clustered about Kin—some the northern lords and ladies who had long been absent from Mei’lian, others members of Kin’s court who had chosen to keep their lives and their lands rather than their honour.

  With unhurried steps, I made my way to where Malice stood waiting before the throne, apparently oblivious to all the interest he was causing. I was surprised to see him, having assumed he had a prior understanding with Katashi, but as I joined him, he flashed me an amused smile.

  Upon the throne, Katashi Otako looked every bit an emperor, tall and regal and proud, despite the black sash he had chosen to wear like a slash of darkness across his stomach. He leant forward as I halted at the Humble Stone, and pulled back the broad sleeves of his robe to display powerful forearms.

  For a time, he didn’t speak. Tension strangled breath from the air. At Katashi’s side, a guard shifted his weight.

  “Whoreson Laroth,” Katashi intoned at last, wiping the smile from Malice’s face. “You are called here to take the Imperial Oath of Allegiance before these witnesses. Not having had a noble upbringing, I do not expect you to know the words, but I have no doubt your brother can prompt you.”

  Malice was unarmed, but every guard knew what he was and edged their hands toward their swords.

  “I know the oath very well, Your Majesty,” Malice said. “I do not require prompting.”

  “Then kneel and take it.”

  I was sure he would refuse as he had refused to kneel before anyone, but after the shortest of hesitations, he knelt, gracefully lowering his head toward the floor. “I swear on the bones of my mad father,” he said, his words resonating off the wooden boards. “On my name and my honour, that I will be loyal to one of our two emperors, the great Emperor Katashi, the however-manyeth of his name. I will not stick a knife in him, nor lie to his face. I will give every last ounce of my strength and my not inconsiderable intellect and will die in his service if the gods are so very cruel.” He glanced sideways then, looking up toward me. “I will be as nothing and no one in service to you.”

  Malice could not rise until his oath had been accepted, but he sat back, smiling as shocked whispers sped around the room. Scowling, Katashi held up his hand for silence. There was no precedent to execute a man for speaking the wrong words, and gripping the arms of the throne, he left Malice kneeling and turned his attention to me. “Lord Darius Kirei Laroth,” he said. “Sixth count of Esvar and former minister of the left in the court of the Usurper Kin Ts’ai.”

  “That would be me,” I said flatly.

  “Your father, Lord Nyraek Laroth,” he went on, “the fifth count of Esvar, was once sworn to the service of my uncle, Emperor Lan.”

  “He was,” I said.

  “Do you intend to follow his example?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you may kneel and take the oath.”

  There was a moment of strained silence, and glancing sidelong at Malice, I could see the unspoken words on his lips: Behave, he urged. But a good man was not something you were, rather something you chose to be every moment of every day. I had already chosen my emperor and already taken my oath. I would not kneel before this man, would not bow, would not even acknowledge the position he claimed with a stolen crown and an oath he would never live up to, because if my word meant nothing, I would soon be nothing.

  Remaining on my feet, I said, “I intend to follow my father’s example in choosing to give my allegiance to Emperor Kin, as my father did before he died.”

  Katashi narrowed his eyes. “From insanity, I believe.”

  “Yes. In a pool of his own filth.”

  Nervous laughter added to the constriction in the room. I recognised a few of those tittering behind their hands, but one had to have been living in a hole f
or the last twenty years to miss the rumours about my father.

  “Perhaps you too are insane,” Katashi said. “You seem to have very little care for your own life. Do you imagine I will grant you freedom if you refuse?”

  “Not if the heads of my fellow councillors are anything to go by. I never knew it was standard practice to execute people who fail to agree with you.”

  “We are at war.”

  “Yes, having stolen the emperor’s crown and his castle, I am sure you are.”

  Low whispers ran rife. I caught sight of Hana shifting to the front of the crowd. Her expression was unreadable.

  “Will you or will you not take the oath?” Katashi demanded.

  Malice’s gaze seemed to burn its warning into me, and I knew then why he had bowed. He had known I would refuse, and it was easier to save me from my own stupidity if he could still walk freely around the castle. I could have laughed, as much from his foresight as from the bitter knowledge that my choice meant nothing. There would be no consequence to standing up for what was right if Malice and his Vices would save me anyway.

  “I thought I had made myself clear,” I said, unable to keep the anger from my voice. “But if you wish further clarification, you may have it. I have already taken an oath, already bowed at the feet of the True Emperor of Kisia. I am loyal to His Imperial Majesty, the great Emperor Kin, first of his name, Lord Protector of the Kisian Empire. I am his until death. If it is your decree that I should be executed, then I go to the headsman with my honour intact. Long live Emperor Kin.”

  Shocked whispers held the room until Katashi got to his feet. Taller, broader, and fiercer than Kin, yet I did not fear him because Katashi Otako had never given me any respect that he could take away.

  “Lord Darius Laroth, you are hereby sentenced to a traitor’s death. You will be branded and executed in the morning, and all your property returned to imperial hands.” He turned his attention to Malice. “Whoreson Laroth, you are no longer welcome in my castle or in any lands belonging to the Imperial Expanse of Kisia. You are hereby exiled on pain of death, by I, Emperor Katashi Otako, third of my name, True Emperor of Kisia. You will be escorted immediately from these walls, along with every member of your little troupe. May you never set foot within my empire again.”