A Viral Imperium: The Plagueborn Series Book 1

by Darren Joy

‘I can keep walking a lot longer than you,’ said Threadfin, wondering if that was true. He thought he was close to his limit already. ‘You’re going to need food and sleep, and shelter I suppose.’

  ‘A village, you mean.’

  Civilisation instead of dreary forest, but if anyone recognised him for what he was, things might turn ugly. ‘Are there any near here?’

  Pole handed Threadfin strips of dried kelp and fish. ‘I know you walking corpses need this stuff. Kept it hidden. Figured I might need to spirit you away.’ He then produced dried meat for himself and began chewing.

  Threadfin sniffed at the stale seafood. It looked old, but he ate. They were stale and smelt of Pole more than of the sea. He kept chewing but couldn’t taste, thankfully. He resisted an urge to hurl. Yes, definitely feeling odd. ‘It’s not true, you know.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘I’m not a walking corpse, or maggot spit, whatever that is, or a zombie, which don’t exist by the way. I’m half dead.’ Even the term undead wasn’t quite right, and to Threadfin’s mind a contradiction, but whatever. Not like anyone cared.

  ‘You don’t breathe, do you?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  ‘Your heart doesn’t beat does it? There’s no blood in your veins, is there? What is it that keeps you up and moving about, anyhow?’

  Threadfin didn’t answer, the argument lost. Smart bastard. ‘You planned on helping me all along.’ He hadn’t decided to trust the man, but he could play along. If necessary, he’d take the chance and run, once he’d recovered a bit. ‘Why?’

  The breather halted, and stared at him. ‘What happened to you back there, eh? Answer me that one. You had a whole other person coming out of you. Bet it’s why you don’t feel well, right?’

  Threadfin shook his head.

  ‘Well, then,’ said Pole. ‘Guess we both got secrets, don’t we.’ He grimaced and spat. ‘We’d best keep on. We’ve a rendezvous to keep.’

  ‘Hey now, I want to get clear of this forest. I’ve no interest in any rendezvous.’

  ‘I told you, I know someone who can answer your questions, and you never heard me say you had a choice.’

  This time Threadfin shut his mouth, deciding not to point out that he had said exactly that. One way or another, he had to lose this breather, though not before he found a way out of this Grim-hooded forest.

  Chapter 12

  A Blubbering Fool

  LIVIANA PACED, RIDING boots thudding on the oak floorboards. She’d ridden her own sydarag, an activity she’d not done in years. The beast had been restless when she’d mounted him. Once clear of the city, she’d given him his head, and what a feeling. The wind had been a knife cutting through her, as the muscular beast between her legs thumped across the earth. It was times like that she didn’t despise being human, at least, not as much.

  The house was large with a dozen rooms. This main bedroom had a deep-set fireplace, the coals lit. The personal residence of a conclavist and family recently departed.

  She halted by the prisoner. ‘I know what you are. There is nothing to be gained here by denials.’

  He grunted.

  ‘Give me her location, and perhaps I will overlook your recent stupidity. I might even find a use for you.’

  ‘You killed her.’ The prisoner spat, a glob congealing on Liviana’s boot. ‘She’s dead.’

  Weary, she massaged her brow, and then nodded to her thraels. If that was how he wanted it.

  Altus and Berg, she thought those were the names, forced the prisoner’s hands into the flames for a second time. He screeched, twisting and writhing in an attempt to get free. There was soon a stench of roasting meat. It mingled with the persistent stink of the unwashed thraels. Conversion did nothing for their hygiene it seemed. Liviana made a sharp gesture.

  The sweaty men, whom she’d borrowed from Pen Luthus, pulled the captive from the flames. They’d proved capable enough at least. The hands and wrists of the prisoner had blackened. A clear fluid wept from large blisters, the skin sloughing away. He was whimpering but regained control.

  ‘For tens of thousands of years, our kind has hidden among humans. Did you think I would not recognise you on sight? Did you think you could stand in my way?’

  Her men now lashed the prisoner with thick ropes, to prevent his full transformation. The protrusions had begun. Trauma would do that. The man’s gaze drifted to the corpse, which lay in a corner. Did he feel responsible for her death? Had he loved or cared for her? I doubt it, she thought. We all do what is necessary. She had lost ten of her thraels to these two before having to intervene.

  Liviana stooped to whisper in his ear. ‘Tell me her location. You cannot hide what you are no more than why you are here.’ She grabbed his arms, the hands useless now. He cried out in agony. ‘What is it to you if she lives or dies? Is she really worth this?’ She would have that little vixen. How dare she oppose and make a fool of her. So long as she lived that bitch was a threat.

  ‘You want her. You want the Key,’ the prisoner whispered. ‘You will have neither. You’ve failed, Them. We both know what that means.’

  She punched the prisoner in the face, once, twice and a third time. Rivulets of molten flame filled her veins. Cartilage and bone gave under the blows. Such a weak form, this human flesh. ‘You will die here, and I don’t just mean your pathetic body.’

  She produced a serrated steel blade that shimmered with a light all its own. His eyes widened on sight of it. She possessed one other, which Pen Luthus had taken with him. Those copies she’d created for her thraels didn’t count. They were of limited use, and weaker. Time, she never had enough. Relearning the old arts took too long. ‘You know what this is, don’t you? Give me her location.’

  The hapless fool stared at her. Blood bubbled from his damaged face, but his remaining eye showed no fear. Just defiance. Impressive, but then it was to be expected of her kind.

  Moving away, she stalked towards the decoy. The woman they sought was several inches taller. They had led her thraels down the wrong path. The idiot must have known what would happen. He had expected to die. Such misplaced loyalty. The corpse had blond hair and similar features to her quarry. Even her clothing was similar, and overall, not a bad ruse. ‘I killed her quickly. I will take my time with you.’ She pointed towards him with the dagger. ‘There is no escape. No hope. Only Oblivion. I can spare you that.’

  He stared back at her with determination, gritting his teeth to prepare himself.

  Liviana nodded.

  This time they held his feet to the flames. Blood sizzled as it hit the burning coals. An acrid stench of burning flesh filled the room. The screams were horrendous and the protrusions grew larger, straining the ropes. Yes, his form was weak, but the spirit within was the problem. That was strong. He would endure and his flesh would die before telling her anything useful. She had wasted an entire morning. That chit could be anywhere in the city or beyond.

  They pulled the blubbering fool from the fire. His feet were blackened and useless. Flames licked his ankles and legs, charring and blistering the skin further up. He was barely conscious. The body would die, but the soul within would not escape. She fingered the soul shard, anticipating that moment. She glanced at the blade. Its surface was dark, but a closer look revealed a swirling flame as though seen beneath glass. A lifetime in this form, she’d nearly forgotten her former existence. It was nice to have reminders.

  ‘You have no idea what you’re doing,’ the prisoner croaked as he regained awareness. ‘They will ... ruin this world, and then the entire Spectrum. You should be trying ... to prepare it, to defend it. Instead, you seek to destroy it.’

  ‘I have no intention of destroying it,’ Liviana said in calm voice, ‘well, not all of it. I seek to save worlds, thousands of them. Does that surprise you? A mere fraction, but that is all that can be saved. You lot are fools to think you can save it all, that you can stop the coming dissolution. You dare name us, Fallen? We were ever the true guardians.’

/>   ‘No, you seek power. It is all ... you ever sought.’

  She heard a soldier thumping up the stairs, before he burst through the bedroom doors. ‘We’ve found the trail,’ the woman panted. ‘House Brutus sheltered her two nights ago.’

  Liviana stared into his eyes. ‘I promise you, I will find Todralan and kill her.’

  She held her gaze with Conclavist Ornias Saelos a moment longer and then dismissed him. ‘Kill him,’ she said, turning and handing the soul shard to Berg, ‘but do it slowly.’

  ‘WHAT, IN THE UNHOLY name of Grim, were you thinking?’ It was after midnight and Aiyana’s Darken paced, snappish and growling. ‘Your recent antics have upended any hope we had at stopping her. She knew about your brother. For the love of the Spectrum above, she knew.’

  ‘You said that already,’ answered Aiyana in a calm voice, ‘several times, I believe.’ She was resting, eyes closed. She sighed. ‘For the last time, I couldn’t let her legitimise her rule. If I did, I could never reclaim the throne. It would have meant the next in line would legally be an Avitus.’

  ‘What does any of that matter? She’ll take power now anyway. It’s all academic. You’ve spent far too much time with your nose in books, Yana. This is the real world.’

  ‘I have the legal and moral right to oppose her while her rule isn’t ratified. I defeat her and I can still be raised imperatrix. A rebellion is the next clear step, and I will lead it.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ her Darken snapped. ‘No one will support you. The truth about your brother will spread. I’m sorry, but your duty has ended. Regrettable, even shameful, but there it is. Your bid for the throne is over. You must leave this city, perhaps the imperium too.’

  ‘I don’t require you to tell me my duty. Believe me; no one knows better how dangerous this is. Besides, my duty will not end until my death, and you know that.’

  Cathya’s pacing halted. ‘Which could happen soon if you don’t listen to me,’ she hissed. She still hadn’t forgiven her. Well, Aiyana had done what was necessary, although attending conclave had been a risk, and that revelation was a complication. No need to tell the woman she was right, however. She had enough moral high ground to stand on as it was.

  ‘My sources,’ Cathya went on, ‘inform me anyone close to you has either disappeared, or has since thrown their lot in with Avitus. Not enough to ratify her rule, but still. They killed Saelos. They tortured him, to find you.’

  ‘I was here for that report.’ It hurt, knowing others died for her. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but resisting Liviana meant more would die soon. Her father had taught her that sometimes such deaths were necessary, evil as they were. Once in power, she would set about building a new imperium, a new system that would right old wrongs and see the lowest rise. Still, she avoided mention of Cathya’s family, with whom the Darken was estranged. No word on survivors, but the Shivar estate was gone.

  ‘Yet you insist on this foolery? You always insist on doing everything. Why won’t you accept help, and a little advice, for once?’

  ‘You shouldn’t be up walking about,’ Aiyana mumbled, half glancing at the woman. ‘You should be resting. After all, I’ve more foolery to be getting on with in a bit. You’ll need your strength.’

  She thought she heard the woman mutter, ‘... the strength to strangle you.’

  The bodyguard fingered the bandages at her side, still muttering, winced and resumed her pacing. She had saved Aiyana’s life twice since the conclave had met three days ago. This was the third safe house they’d moved to. Liviana, apparently, wasn’t a happy woman. That was to the good. Anger made for mistakes, or well, that was the idea.

  ‘She’s not going to let one little upstart stand in her way,’ said Cathya. ‘She only thought you lived before. Since your stunt, she now knows it and to make it worse, you decided to infuriate her beyond reason. How is that supposed to help?’

  ‘That’s how you see me, is it? Little?’

  ‘Don’t put words in my mouth.’

  ‘You said them.’ It wasn’t that Aiyana wanted to goad her Darken. She was tired of this argument. She’d never seen her this on edge and nothing she could say short of, ‘Yes, Cath, my dear, I will flee the city immediately, and obey you the rest of my days,’ would soothe the woman. Red hair equals a red temper, as the saying went.

  ‘You will be dead by sundown tomorrow.’

  ‘Good to know. Make the arrangements will you. I like white lilies, oh and Liviana’s not invited.’

  ‘Now, you just sound like your brother.’

  Aiyana sighed, massaging her forehead. ‘Liviana wants more than the throne, Cath. I saw it in her eyes. She seeks more than just the power to rule. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I will. We haven’t failed, because Liviana hasn’t begun. She must know she can’t take the throne and hold on to it, not with my sister still alive.’ She recalled Davard’s words and wondered if that was true. ‘She doesn’t control the legions. No, she’s up to something else.’

  ‘You mean those wretched overfed brutes.’

  ‘She’s drawing them here. Once they arrive, then you can start to panic.’ Rumour had turned to fact over a few days. The Nephilim had arrived in numbers, by all accounts. There were scouts in Aiyana’s employ, and she trusted them. Ships had once more landed on the Adalalcas coast. This time it was no raid. ‘I’m convinced that harridan has something to do with them. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll use them to unite the city and the legions behind her. I cannot allow that.’

  Cathya huffed and stood glaring at her with fists on hips. ‘I am not panicking. I’m just ... concerned. That is my job, you know.’

  Their current safe house was once a merchant’s dwelling. The whitewashed walls were thick, the wooden floor well maintained. Most of the poorer houses in Icarthya didn’t have glass like this one, just shutters or goatskin. Torches lit the interior on bronze sconces. Heavy linen curtains prevented light leaking out. A Soul and Fury games board made of lacquered wood sat on a table, the ivory pieces in play. Like Cathya, Aiyana enjoyed strategy, but tonight had no appetite or patience. Losing four games in a row would do that, but then Cathya always chose Fury. Aiyana always won with Soul, but not against her Darken.

  ‘I’ll admit you’re right about one thing,’ Aiyana said, rising from the cot. She grabbed a brush from a stand and dragged it through her tangled golden hair. She’d been tying it up and stuffing it under a cap whenever they moved. Wearing a worker’s tunic and breeches, not to mention boots, she looked nothing like a princess. Her face was filthy. She needed a mirror, a bath, and several other things she couldn’t have. The cot was wooden and falling apart, the mattress stuffed with straw. She missed her own soft bed in the palace, and Holy Spectrum above, what she wouldn’t give for a cup of green tea.

  She moved to the wooden hexagon board and picked up Hearth, moving it two places to the right and one forwards. An aggressive move for Soul, but playing defensively against Cathya never worked. She still had Fire and Spirit shielded behind four Guardians. It would take a full assault by Cathya to win, which she usually did.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Her Darken was eyeing the board. Her Sage and Warrior protected as always, she moved her Nemesis one and a legion two and two left, trapping Aiyana’s Zealot. Fury always received two moves to Soul’s one, but Soul had far stronger pieces. That one had been the strongest.

  ‘We will be leaving.’

  ‘Thank the Spectrum above for good sense.’ Cathya grabbed her by the shoulders, nearly knocking over the board, and kissed her long and deep. ‘We should go within the hour,’ she then added, somewhat out of breath.

  ‘More like a few days, maybe weeks.’ Aiyana had enjoyed the kiss, too few of those lately, but she couldn’t give in now.

  ‘What?’ Her Darken stood there with a reddening face as relief turned to anger. ‘Now you listen to me. Staying in this city one—’

  ‘Could even be months. We knew what we were up against when we took this course
. I must see it through. I will leave when my people are safe.’

  ‘Yes, we did,’ Cathya agreed, ‘but as you know, the best of plans can fall apart. Ours did the moment she shared your brother’s nature. Your name and reputation are tarnished. It is over.’ Her hand touched a hilt on her hip. It was wooden, but banded with gold. ‘I can force you to leave, Yana. It is within my right and power to do so.’

  Aiyana touched the other woman’s cheek with a caress. ‘Your duty isn’t to prevent me from a course of action, my love. It’s to keep me alive no matter the course I take.’

  ‘Don’t try to muddy the issue. You always do that. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself, not when there is no hope of winning.’

  The conclave had scattered since her stand against Liviana, those who could, fleeing the city, or into hiding. There would be no vote, and Liviana would want revenge for that. That wouldn’t stop Avitus, but it had slowed her. Physically placing her butt on the throne didn’t make her imperatrix, and the woman knew it. A few conclavists might still support Aiyana, if Liviana left any alive. Her people needed her. With the possibility of a war with the Nephilim, a ruler with the will and desire to protect the people had to be in charge, and soon.

  There was a rap on the front door. A guardswoman admitted a soldier. Over boiled leather armour, he wore a commoner’s faded blue woollen cloak. It was tattered and smelling of fish. Captain Turol shook out the fine coating of droplets, his armour creaking.

  He then walked straight to Cathya, and stood waiting for orders. Aiyana had not given him any order to come here. Why was he looking to her?

  ‘Cath, what is this?’

  ‘You will be coming with us,’ said Cathya to the captain. ‘We’re going to get her out, whether she likes it or not, which she doesn’t. She will not come quietly.’

  Aiyana struggled to believe her ears. ‘You are not an imbecile. Quit behaving like one. I cannot defeat Liviana if I’m not even present in the city. I am staying.’