Kastet nodded. “It isn’t going to be simple. True Divine, nothing from this moment on will even resemble simplicity. I still can’t wrap my head around what must be going through Gabriel’s mind.”
She shook her head, looking vulnerable for a moment. Damon set a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.
“Well, let’s start by settling into our new base of operations.”
In the end, they took two gondolas. Kastet, Lilian, and Wrath rode in the front, while Damon sat with Vel in the second. While he’d been through Silke before, he’d never gone out onto the water, and he was struck by the beauty and ambience of the waves licking against the stones of the ancient, carefully maintained buildings.
“Look,” said Vel. She nudged him and pointed down into the water below.
It was crystal clear, and Damon could peer down at the remnants of the old city. The centuries-old bricks of the streets were still visible, along with a few ancient statues. It made him feel as though he was suspended in the air over a frozen slice of history.
The estate Kastet had arranged for them to stay in was short and squat in comparison to the others. They climbed off the gondolas onto a wooden jetty which had clearly been added long after the water had consumed the original ruins.
They made their way up a long flight of stairs, entering the building on the first floor entirely clear of the shifting tide, a good ten feet above the current sea level. The interior was spacious and clean, with rugs covering an old stone floor and various paintings adorning the walls.
The rooms were on the upper level, each arrayed around the edges of the octagonal building in a manner which reminded Damon of Malon’s tower. The beds were each made with clean linens, and he left his traveling pack at the foot of his without much closer examination.
“What now?” he asked Kastet. Wrath and Lilian had found spots on sitting cushions, and Vel carried firewood toward the hearth.
“Now, as so often seems to be the case, we wait,” said Kastet.
The afternoon passed uneventfully, though being within the towers of Silke for the first time was an event, in itself. Food could be sent for by gondola. Kastet had a massive platter of cured sausage, cheese, and dried fruit delivered to the tower’s jetty, which they ate while watching the ships farther out in the ocean, white sails like clouds against the clear sky.
It was late in the afternoon when a response finally came from the courier Kastet had sent to approach the Lord Governor. She peered over the missive with a furrowed brow, folding it twice as she finished.
“Well?” asked Damon. “We’ve waited too long already to be left in suspense.”
“He’s agreed to meet with us,” she said, slowly. “He’s invited us to join him in his garden atop Redpane Tower.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Vel.
Kastet exhaled through her nose and began massaging her temples. “The invitation names Damon, specifically, as part of my retinue. It doesn’t bode well for the Lord Governor to be mentioning such things. He could well be acting under the presumption that I’m your hostage.”
Damon chuckled at that. Lilian and Vel looked far more serious. Wrath stood by the window, and without saying anything, she slowly began to open it.
“Keep mind of where the horses were stabled,” said Wrath, as though she’d barely been paying attention to the previous conversation. “I have business to attend to elsewhere.”
She disappeared in a flash of azure before any of them could raise a question or objection. Damon moved to take her spot at the open window, inhaling the scent of sea salt and ocean life.
“Well,” he said. “I suppose we won’t have Wrath’s aid to rely on for this one. What’s your opinion on this, Kastet? We don’t necessarily have to take this meeting if you find it foreboding.”
“Unfortunately, we do.” Kastet came over to stand next to him. “Now that he knows we’re here, we can’t afford him attempting to curry favor with the Godking by exposing our presence. This was a calculated risk… one which I may have been mistaken about.”
Damon set a hand on his myrblade and turned to face Kastet. Her unease was written plainly across her face, but he didn’t share it. The situation was uncertain, rather than outright dangerous, and perhaps she would have preferred it the other way around.
“Then let’s go meet with the Lord Governor,” he said.
CHAPTER 20
It was late in the evening when the Lord Governor’s gondola arrived to escort Damon and Kastet to the Redpane Tower. He gave Vel a hug and a kiss goodbye and made sure Lilian was clear about what to do if they didn’t arrive back immediately.
“I have no intention of leaving you or the princess here if you’re abducted,” said Lilian.
“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” he said. “Just get Vel out of the city first. After that, you’re welcome to take whatever risks you deem necessary to free us.”
“Damon.” Vel clung to his side, her face scrunched with worry. “Are you really expecting this to go so poorly? Why even bother taking the risk?”
“Mind yourself, Lady Velanor.” Kastet answered before Damon could. “This is a formal invitation. We are trusting the Lord Governor to behave as an honest host, with no treachery. If he violates that trust, we’ll respond. Unfortunately, we can’t get what we want here without taking the chance.”
“We’ll be alright, Vel,” said Damon. “I promise.”
He kissed her on the cheek one last time and followed Kastet out onto the jetty. The gondolier confirmed their identities before punting the small boat off and paddling them along the canal.
True to its name, the Redpane Tower was a massive spire of dark stone and red-stained glass. From a distance, it looked like a rotting, bloody tooth jutting upward from the water, a comparison which Damon flushed from his mind as they approached the spacious landing dock and caught sight of their host.
Lord Governor Thomas Abastrius was one of the Godking’s vassals, though less powerful than many of the other city lords and high merchants under the umbrella of Avaricia’s influence. He was younger than Damon would have expected, mid-thirties or thereabouts, with dirty blond hair and a strong jaw.
Abastrius greeted Kastet on Redpane Tower’s long, barnacle-encrusted pier, stooping forward to help her off the boat and kiss her hand. He nodded to Damon, acknowledging him, but not giving any hint as to his deeper disposition.
“I’m honored that the two of you were so kind as to quickly accept my invitation,” said Abastrius. “I have a table prepared for us in the fountain room. Shall we?”
“Lead on,” said Kastet.
She seemed confident. Damon felt less certain of the situation. He noted the ample number of guards Abastrius had received them with, ten men, with two more standing on either side of the door leading to the tower’s interior.
They followed the Lord Governor up a staircase that wound around the tower’s interior wall, giving them a passing view of each of the eponymous red-paned windows. Damon noticed they were irregular, varying not just in color and shape, but also in the style of their frames. Replacing them was doubtless an expensive, specialized affair.
The fountain room was, well, a room with a fountain in it. It was large and central, with beautiful, nude female statues embracing around the central discharge of water, which rained down upon them and into the surrounding pool. The prestige of having running water so far up, at least a hundred feet above sea level, was not lost on Damon.
“It’s beautiful,” said Kastet.
“You’re generous with your compliments, Princess,” said Abastrius. Despite having mentioned a table, he made no move to sit down or to invite them to.
“Truly, it is,” said Kastet. “The craftsmanship is marvelous. I’m fascinated by whatever hidden function must carry the water to this point with such pressure.”
Abastrius’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Once upon a time, it was magic. The ancient architect enchanters of the Old Rem used a blood ritual to c
ontinuously entice the water to flow in such ways. Or so my historians tell me. They have a fancy for spinning tales with intrigue over accuracy.”
“Once upon a time, you say?” asked Kastet. “What of now?”
“Now…” Abastrius steepled his fingers, glancing toward the table, but still not inviting them to sit. “Now, it runs on the grace of the Godking. He supplied my craftsmen with a spinning steam hearth that runs off flames and coal. Dirty, messy business, but a price worth paying.”
“You aren’t a subtle man, are you?” asked Damon.
Abastrius’s gaze snapped toward him, eyes smoldering with dark humor. “From what I hear, neither are you. Please, sit. You are my guests, after all.”
He finally waved a hand toward the table. Damon helped Kastet with her chair before taking his own, sitting with over casual posture on the edge in case he needed to stand in a hurry.
“I was surprised to learn of your visit to my city,” said Abastrius. “The last definitive news I heard of you, Princess, was when the late Queen sent word of your rape and kidnapping.”
“I was…” Kastet blinked and gave a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry. My what?”
“Yes…” Abastrius nodded sagely. “The Queen told us quite the story. According to her, the outlaw Damon Al-Kendras stole your virtue at the tip of his sword. When you refused to run off with him afterward, he flew into a rage and took you as his prisoner.”
Damon snorted. Kastet rubbed her temples. Abastrius looked as though he didn’t quite believe the information he was relating to them himself, which seemed like a good sign.
“I can assure you, Lord Governor, that none of what you’ve heard is accurate,” said Kastet. “As you should now well know, my stepmother intended to usurp the throne. You can confirm the truth with my brother, King Gabriel, if you still harbor any doubts of that.”
“I’m sure he would tell me many things,” said Abastrius. “He is on his way to Veridan’s Curve now, is he not?”
“Yes,” said Kastet. “In fact, I’m here at his request. He’s given me his full confidence to speak on his behalf. Lord Governor, part of my reason for coming to your city relates to the future of Veridan’s Curve and the shifting political landscape.”
“Full confidence to speak on his behalf, you say?” asked Abastrius. “I take it you have a sealed missive with his sigil, then? He’s certainly given me no forewarning of your arrival.”
“I do not, but that’s solely due to the speed at which events have been moving,” said Kastet. “I can assure you that I speak in his name.”
Abastrius licked his lips, considering her words for a long moment. “And I can assure you that you will be safe here in Silke, within my care, until King Gabriel officially arrives in Veridan’s Curve and we can get this all sorted out. You must understand my position, Princess. I was under the impression that you’d been kidnapped, and it’s hard for me to quell that concern even now.”
“You don’t look like a man that’s overburdened with concern,” pointed out Damon. “I’d say you look more like one who sees an opportunity.”
Abastrius let out a dry chuckle. “Quite so.”
He gestured with a hand, and Damon heard the footsteps of approaching guards. He sighed and glanced at Kastet. Her face was pale, and her fingers clenched the table as though she was expecting to be forcibly pulled back from it.
Damon had gone into the encounter expecting a fight, or at least the possibility of treachery. Still, he’d hoped for both Kastet’s sake and his own that he wouldn’t be forced into carrying out diplomacy at the point of his sword. He resigned himself to simply hoping he wouldn’t have to kill anyone as he drew his sword and pulled Kastet up from the table.
“The fountain,” he whispered.
She nodded and began moving that way, pressing her back against Damon’s so they had eyes to either side. Abastrius’s guards didn’t seem eager for a fight, which was ideal. Damon let them close in, slowly inching toward the fountain, eyeing the beautiful pool of water with greedy eyes.
“Princess, this is foolishness,” said Abastrius. “You’re only going to get your companion killed if you resist.”
“You don’t realize yet the mistake you’ve made, Abastrius, but you soon will,” said Kastet. She groped at Damon’s elbow and squeezed it, though whatever message she was trying to convey was lost at him.
“The men you see around you are some of the best swordsmen in Veridan’s Curve,” said Abastrius. “This will not end well for you.”
Damon wanted to scoff at that, or at least accuse the Lord Governor of exaggerating for effect. He didn’t get the chance. One of the guards came at him, swinging a longsword with surprising dexterity. He deflected the strike, almost fell for a feint, and suddenly found himself fighting for his life.
There were too many opponents, and too much happening all at once. Damon was on the defensive from the very start. Kastet’s gasps and wordless utterances were the only warning he got when the guards attacked him from behind. Damon was good, but he only had one sword, and it couldn’t be everywhere at once.
A spearpoint nicked him in the shoulder, a minor injury, but one that seemed to promise more to come. He countered, sliding the spear sideways and slashing its wielder across the chest. Kastet shouted his name and he ducked on reflex, getting his head out of the way of a greatsword that would otherwise have decapitated him.
He had to choose between protecting Kastet and winning the fight, and as cold of a calculation as it seemed, it was really no choice at all. The Lord Governor was more liable to kill any of his guards that so much as bruised her, given how quickly he’d identified her value as a prize to the Godking.
Damon dove into a roll, moving away from Kastet and toward the fountain. She let out a surprised shout as one of the guards immediately grabbed her. She was safer in their hands, rather than near him, within reach of weapon strikes which might land astray.
“Archers!” screamed Abastrius. “Shoot him!”
Damon hardly needed an excuse to dive into the fountain’s water, but the prospect of being turned into a sewing cushion by the various guards leveling crossbows at him from the edge of the room was more than enough to commit to getting wet. The splash of water flooded his ears as he tumbled into the fountain face first. He gripped his myrblade, knowing he needed another favor, another chain.
Myr
It took only a minor flex of his will to enter her realm. She looked slightly annoyed with him before he’d even said anything, still clad in the remaining chains which bound her power. Damon was, as always, struck by her ethereal beauty, pale blue skin, wispy hair, generous, nude curves.
“Don’t say it,” she said, with a sigh. “I know. It’s this one.”
“Thank you.” He hurried toward her, aware that time was still moving in the real world, albeit slower than it would otherwise pass.
“Damon,” she said, voice serious. “This has to be the last one. The last chain.”
“It will be.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I can feel it. It’s coming. I’m… already starting to slip.”
He shook his head, wishing he had time to understand what she meant. One of Kastet’s screams pierced through the veil of Myr’s realm, and Damon could only put his strength to pulling at the chain, gritting his teeth in exertion to snap through one of its brittle, frozen links.
He felt a surge of power as the chain snapped and could suddenly visualize a new possibility. He wanted to grin as he realized why Myr had chosen the chain for him that she had. She’d given him a new ability, this time, one he’d attempted in various ways before with scattered results.
“Are you quite finished?” shouted Abastrius. “You’ve splashed around in my fountain enough. I understand that desperation can make men go a bit silly, but honestly…”
Damon sat up in the fountain, water streaming down his face. His clothing was soaked, from shirt to trousers to boots. Which was exactly what he n
eeded.
He stood up slowly, treating the archers as if they were still a threat, and began to coat himself in ice armor.
CHAPTER 21
Damon took a dark, borderline petulant joy in watching the Lord Governor’s expression shift from smug confidence to outright fear. He slowly lifted his myrblade, which was now the length of a greatsword and studded with ice thorns, ignoring the thud of several crossbow bolts slamming harmlessly into his ice armor.
He could move easily in it, as it adjusted around his body, carrying its own weight. The armor was composed of tiny interlocking sections, more like the segments of an insect’s carapace than traditional plate armor. An open-faced helmet covered his head, and similarly, a pair of open-fingered gauntlets protected his hands without limiting his usage of his fingers.
The crossbow bolts which had struck the shoulders and back of his frozen chest plate slid outward, falling into the fountain below him. Damon didn’t need to look to know that the armor was actively repairing itself, reforming around holes and cracks.
He looked like a monster of white-blue ice. He could understand the Lord Governor’s growing terror. Abastrius had waved the guard holding Kastet over and was now holding her himself, pressing an ornate dagger to her neck as he cowered behind her.
“Demon!” shouted Abastrius. “Evil!”
“No, just a man who’s tired of putting up with endless nonsense,” said Damon. “Let the Princess go and nobody has to die.”
Abastrius didn’t respond. He tried to take a step back and pull Kastet toward the door, but she kept her feet planted. Brave girl. Smart girl.
“Did you not just hear me?” snapped Damon. “Let her go. Now!”
He drove his myrblade down into the water, freezing the fountain over completely. Ice spikes sprouted like the swords of a fallen army, not striking outward to attack any of the guards, but still looking sinister in their intent.
“I… I…” Abastrius shook his head. He looked as though he was about ready to give up, but also past the point of being able to speak coherently. Kastet saved him the trouble, elbowing him hard in the stomach and extracting the dagger from his hands.
Sin and Soil 10 Page 10
