The Gods of Vice (The Vengeance Trilogy Book 2)

by Devin Madson

  ‘What?’

  ‘What what?’

  ‘You were going to ask me something, but you closed your eyes and said nothing.’

  It’s not fair. It’s not justice.

  I blinked a few times, trying to focus, to resist the urgings of my Empathy. ‘I’m running out of time,’ I said. ‘Tell me what happened to Darius?’

  ‘I don’t know, Endymion. Katashi’s men brought him in with Malice and he was different. He… he made me obey.’

  ‘Then he lost,’ I whispered, more to myself than to her.

  You will lose, too, the thought came back. The Sight is your master.

  Tears ran onto Kimiko’s pillow and she brushed them away. ‘Please go. I hate to be so weak, but I feel like every limb is as heavy as a sack of rice. I would be happy never to move again.’

  ‘It will pass.’ Four men outside. I could feel their purpose and I froze, kneeling upon the linen. ‘They’re coming,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘Whatever happens to me, remember you have nothing to fear from Kin.’

  ‘Why? What is happening?’

  Outside the footsteps halted, and through the slit in the tent I glimpsed four pairs of sandals: three reed, one wood, the edge of a family crest branded into the sole.

  ‘His Majesty will see you now.’

  Kimiko parted her lips, but I pressed a finger to my own and shook my head. ‘Stay here,’ I whispered, making noise as I stood so they would know I was coming. ‘I won’t be back.’

  Again she looked as though she would speak, but I shook my head and turned away, ducking out into the dregs of the evening.

  Four of Kin’s soldiers waited, each man wearing a crimson sash adorned with the Ts’ai dragon. They all stared at my cheek, leering as they looked me up and down like I was the dirt beneath their feet. Just like the guards who had branded me in Shimai.

  Justice.

  ‘We will take you to His Majesty,’ said the man who had come for me earlier, satisfaction oozing off him. ‘I suppose you are ready now, are you?’

  I had never been good with the subtleties of tone, but this one was undoubtedly mocking. ‘Yes,’ I said, managing a smile of which even Malice would have been proud. ‘I am ready. Lead the way.’

  They did so, two ahead and two behind, through the busy mess of the collapsing camp. Everywhere men went about their business, saddling horses and loading carts with everything from tents to provisions, while overhead crimson flags hung heavy from their poles. The noise made conversation impossible. Soldiers shouted to each other, talking, laughing, while boys scurried underfoot with armloads of crimson silk and dozens of dangling lanterns. The presence of so many souls was like a weight upon my mind, tugging my thoughts this way and that, my Empathy seeing, tasting, feeling, the world full of colour. The Sight connected me to every soul, but to them I was nothing but a passing shadow; a plain man in a plain robe, owning no name, no purpose.

  Emperor Kin’s tent was yet to be dismantled and stood proud in the centre of the camp. The long-tailed dragon of his family covered every side, dozens of mouths open as though to speak, to warn me, the whole construction proof of the man I would find inside.

  No guards waited and my escort did not enter. They just motioned me in and I felt like a ghost, slinking into the presence of an emperor.

  Kin was writing, kneeling at a long, low desk, and but for the paper it might have been a kiri wood zither upon which he plucked the strings of the empire. Dressed in armour, he wore the crimson surcoat almost as an afterthought, an unnecessary reminder that this stern man held the reins of history.

  The late-evening light flickered across his parchment and he looked up as the tent flap fell closed behind me, shutting out the camp. We were alone, the lantern-lit space thick with the smell of fresh parchment and melted wax.

  ‘You’ve kept me waiting,’ Kin said, a little crease between his brows. It was a sign of anxiety, but I didn’t need it to know how he felt.

  When I said nothing he favoured me with a perfunctory smile. ‘You have been sitting with Lady Kimiko, I understand. Might I enquire how she is?’

  ‘She will live,’ I said. ‘But she needs rest. She has been through a lot.’

  ‘I am leaving General Jikuko here with some of my men. He will ensure she is well looked after.’

  Emperor Kin let the parchment scroll roll up, and pushing it aside, set his elbows on the table. ‘Your sister – your half-sister – has done me the honour of accepting my offer of marriage. As you are not recognised as the head of her family and I am at war with Katashi Otako, I have dispensed with the usual custom of contracting.’

  ‘An emperor may do as he wishes,’ I said, still standing in the middle of the matting floor, the top of the tent some way above my head. ‘Although, nevertheless, you have my blessing.’

  ‘Fortunate for me that I am an emperor,’ he said, ignoring this. ‘Hana would not have taken well to being sold as a piece of property.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘We are not yet married and already she demands things of me. I have granted her a place on my Council and look forward to seeing what my generals and my councillors think of that.’ He stood, the hem of his surcoat carelessly creased where he had been sitting on it.

  Kin came around the end of the long table. ‘I take leave to tell you, Lord Takehiko, that your sister is quite a handful.’

  ‘As you will be marrying her, I hope that is to your taste.’

  He did not answer, but came to stand before me. We were of a height, Kin perhaps a little taller and certainly stronger, his shoulders owning the true set of a soldier. He was older, too, the lines between his brows permanently etched.

  With a constricted smile, he put his left hand upon my shoulder. ‘You are welcome to stay, Takehiko,’ he said, ‘but–’

  The sudden intent was like a pinprick in the world of whispers. He moved quickly, the point of the dagger touching my side as I gripped his throat with my bare hand, skin on skin. ‘No,’ I said, looking into those dark eyes. ‘Empaths are never welcome.’

  For what seemed like a long time he said nothing, the point of the knife not shifting. And while he did not move, I forced nothing through, not even connection. I did not need it anymore.

  After a time, something like a smile flashed across Kin’s face. ‘You’re quick,’ he said.

  ‘I can read you.’

  ‘And what do you see upon my pages?’

  The whispers came to me, insistent, forcing their way into my head. I could not keep them out. Whispers spoke the truth.

  Justice.

  ‘Katashi was wrong about you,’ I said, feeling the pulse throb in his neck. ‘I don’t think he knows what I do. He cannot see what I see.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No, but you love Hana. That is no lie.’

  There, a twisted little smile. ‘No, that is no lie.’

  ‘And she loves you, but she won’t understand. I can see your every thought and feeling and memory as though it were my own, and I understand you, but she never will.’

  ‘If you understand me so well then you know why I have a knife in my hand. You ought never to have told me she was unaware of your existence.’

  ‘I was blind when I did,’ I said. ‘But I am not blind now. Neither, I think, are you. You are more aware of my ability than you seem. You know what I can do to your mind, and it would be much faster than you plunging that knife into my gut. You might, of course, retain just enough sanity to retaliate, however, so perhaps we are better off making a deal, rather than a mess.’

  The knife remained in place, its tip touching my skin. ‘And what do you propose, Lord Otako?’

  ‘That you let me leave. Your secret will be safe and no one will have to clean us up.’

  ‘And where do you go?’

  ‘To Dar
ius.’

  ‘I would be better off gutting you where you stand,’ he snarled. ‘I know what you two did that night in Koi. Together you are more dangerous than apart. Together, you can take my throne.’

  ‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘But I already told you that I am no rebel. If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you a hundred times by now and so could he. I don’t want the Crimson Throne. I might have been born Takehiko Otako, but I’m a Laroth. I’m a god and I’m proud of it.’

  Emperor Kin did not speak; his lips pressed into a thin line. Outside, soldiers continued with their work, the noise unceasing.

  ‘A god?’

  Justice.

  ‘There are four guards standing in front of your tent and six behind. Three thousand, eight-hundred and ninety-one men are in your camp. Twenty-six scouts and travellers in the Neck. Thirty thousand, nine hundred and sixty-four people in The Valley. One million, three hundred and eighteen thousand, and five souls in your empire. And I know your secret. I am a god and I do what is right. At this very moment, what is right is saving my brother from himself.’

  The knife was no longer held with such certainty, those dark eyes leaping around my face. ‘And what then?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘If I let you walk out of here I will regret it.’

  ‘If you don’t, you will not live to regret anything.’

  His anger burned like a fire between us. ‘Your brother betrayed me. Tell me why I should trust you.’

  ‘Because I don’t lie. Because I am the only one who will never hate you for killing my mother. It might have been Shin Metai’s hand, but they were your orders, Your Majesty. A single order and a palace full of Otakos lay dead.’

  ‘Except for you.’

  ‘Except for me. And Hana. But it was Nyraek Laroth who made sure of that, not you.’

  Kin took a step back, removing the knife from my skin. I let my hand fall from his neck. ‘You loved my mother,’ I said. ‘And that was the hardest of all.’

  ‘We all make hard choices.’ The words were clipped, harsh.

  ‘Don’t tell Hana.’

  ‘No,’ he said, sliding the knife back into a leather slip beneath his surcoat. ‘Better to live with my guilt than inflict that pain upon her.’

  ‘Then, Your Majesty, I think we are in accord. I, Takehiko Otako, hereby renounce my claim to the Crimson Throne in favour of Emperor Kin Ts’ai, first of his name. Darius once told me you were the only man who could rule Kisia and I hope he was right.’ I bowed, sliding my hands down to my knees. ‘Good night, Your Majesty.’

  He did not stop me.

  I stepped into the last of the evening light, the smell of reed matting and incense giving way to the frantic scents of a dying summer. From their places, Kin’s guards watched me with unabated hostility, poised expectantly as though awaiting an order. An order that did not come.

  * * *

  Darius was easy to follow.

  Kaze carried me north along the base of the Kuro Mountains, retracing the steps of the previous night. I had been blind, but now I could see, could hear truth in every whisper.

  The Otako camp lay abandoned, just as Kin’s scouts had reported. Tents still stood here and there, along with piles of wood, grain, weapons and discarded belongings. Horses roamed the desolate ground, tearing the grass with their teeth. A few still wore their saddles, others had been left tethered to stake or branch.

  Leaving Kaze to wait for me, I freed each beast in turn, cutting their reins and relieving them of their saddles, every step a risk in the dark. Bodies lay everywhere, men with missing limbs, others with gaping wounds in their guts and gashes across their chests — too injured to travel and left to die. Had Kin’s scouts put them out of their misery? They had come this way, I knew, but while they would have to hunt their enemies with their eyes, I followed Darius as though a string connected us, soul to soul.

  With a single lantern to light our way, we left the churned patch of earth behind, slowing to navigate a path through the foothills, tufts of tall, strap-like grass reaching up to Kaze’s knees. He brushed through it, enjoying the feel of it against his legs.

  As night aged, the whispers quieted, souls turning to sleep. In these early hours the world belonged to the owls and the night herons, to the foxes hunting for survival. But time meant nothing to me now. Every whisper whittled the night away until the sun was rising and the din grew louder, like the cacophony of a thousand insistent birds. Travellers crossed my path and I stopped for every one, judgement passing from my fingers into their souls. Good or bad it did not matter, it was a duty and I did it gladly. I did not begrudge the time, but I always continued on my way without pause, knowing I would catch up with them soon. The string was tugging tighter.

  I found Katashi’s army two days shy of Nivi Fen. Katashi had pushed them hard at the outset, but as they left The Valley behind the pace had slowed. Like the Pikes, they moved through darkness and rested through daylight, and every day the stink of the marsh had grown closer.

  Dressed in black, I was more ghost than man, and navigated through his scouts with ease.

  Four thousand, nine hundred and eight souls, but Darius was not one of them.

  Katashi’s camp was broad and straggling, alive with noise. They were just halting for the day, tents in the process of being raised, horses fed, fires stoked. The Pikes had become good at moving from camp to camp, but the soldiers who had defected from Kin’s army with the traitor generals had a lot to learn, leaving the air tainted with frustration.

  Darius’s call drew me on, but he would have to wait. Curiosity called me.

  Sure no one would notice an extra scout, I made my way into the confusion. At the edge of the camp knots of horses stood hitched to branches while soldiers hurried around, complaining in low voices. Their whispers stung, filled with bile. Even Kaze felt it was not a happy place.

  I dismounted, patting his neck. ‘You’ll wait for me here, friend?’

  He snorted his agreement, anxiety spilling into my fingers.

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Just wait here. I won’t be long.’

  My fingertips slid from his gleaming coat as I walked away, absorbed by the noise and the activity. Dressed as any other solider, I made my way through the camp, carried by the whispers. Real whispers, secrets hissed through barely parted lips as men gathered in small groups, their eyes straying always toward the centre of the camp.

  Katashi was easy to find. Outside his tent he sat upon a makeshift throne — a grand wooden chair with broad arms draped in crimson. Glorious in his Imperial robes, he basked in the morning light, glowering at nothing. Hana had said Katashi had lost his mind, but my Empathy could see what she could not. He was not mad. He was free. Fuelled as a Vice, he was Vengeance, his great hunger for revenge made flesh. As a marked man he would do as he was commanded, but unlike Avarice or Hope or Conceit, he could not stop, could not rest. He was Vengeance, his golden aura bright with flame.

  Darius had left his mark.

  Thunder sounded in the distance. The storms were coming. They would hit Kisia hard, but this year the swollen rivers would run red with blood.

  One million, three hundred and seventeen thousand, nine-hundred and fifty-six souls in the empire, and the number would keep falling. Four thousand, nine hundred and eight men in Katashi’s camp, and every single one of them would die to serve his Vengeance.

  The only man I never counted was myself. The ones I counted most were still ahead of me, travelling north.

  Two.

  Two brothers.

  Two gods.

  But Justice came to everyone, even gods.

  The story continues…

  Book 3 of The Vengeance Trilogy

  The Grave at Storm’s End

  Vengeance has c
ome.

  Katashi Otako walks with the Vices, burning everything in his path. The Spirit of Vengeance, he will stop at nothing to destroy Emperor Kin and the empire that once condemned his father. Now a hunted man, Endymion is losing the battle against his Empathy, while Darius, driven to madness, leads the Vices to war.

  Wanting nothing more than to fight, Hana is chafed by the restrictions placed on her as a woman of noble birth. But her family has already lost the empire once, in a night of bloodshed that will soon come back to haunt her. Now Hana will have to fight for the right to command the Imperial Army or watch while the greatest threat the empire has ever faced marches on the capital. A leader does what they must, but the enemy is the cousin she once loved and the guardian she once trusted.

  When gods fight, empires fall.

  July 2014