“Not really,” he replied. “There’s a big gathering up at the Shields, so that pulled a lot of their loyals away. More to be learned from who isn’t here tonight. There’s Representative Muller over there, talking with the new streets commissioner. A few of the city council, those who aren’t yet in NEST’s pocket. Bayle Johan’s here somewhere. Kade Korrell but not the Marquis. And of course a few NEST spies, looking surly that they’re missing their own party. You can just spot one over there, see, drinking the wine.”
Shale nodded and thanked the man with a small squeeze on his arm. Aaron fought a brief surge of jealousy. Shale had been increasingly affectionate with him as the evening progressed, but she seemed to give every man she encountered that same attention. It was a tool for her, like another weapon. He shouldn’t let it get him off guard, unnerve him.
Matt was back. Shale turned to him. “Matt, could you do something for me?” she asked. “Could you run down and get Kade Korrell? Tell him I’d like to meet him. Don’t mention Aaron. Bring him up the back stairs.”
Matt nodded and left. Shale turned away from the light and looked long at Aaron. She gave a nod of her head back away from the light and began strolling away. Aaron followed her. After a short walk, they came to a small room, made from canvas walls strung between the poles.
“My room,” Shale said as she held open a canvas flap and led them inside. She let the flap fall behind them. It was pitch black for a moment, then she lit a candle. “It can be collapsed when I’m not using it. But I can’t tell you how nice it is to have a little privacy amidst the chaos of a revolution.”
Aaron looked at the bare walls. There was nothing but a bedroll in the corner and a small trunk of belongings. Shale saw him looking, gave a small blush. “Not that I have that much time to spend here. Still, the location is kind of nice, right?” Aaron smiled. Shale was clearly proud of the small space. She tossed her cloak off and shook her hair free. After a moment’s pause, she turned to Aaron.
“Okay, listen up for a minute. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours. I’ve been betrayed, beaten, nearly raped, and chased across half the city. For the first time today I feel safe, and okay, and like maybe something can be salvaged out of this wreckage. Part of that is because of you, Aaron Lorne. I wasn’t sure you’d survive an encounter with Hideon Bray, now I’m wondering if he shouldn’t be the worried one. But my point is, I’ve had a long day, and I’d like to have something nice before I get back to work. Now, we’ve got about ten minutes before Matt gets back with Kade. Do you think--”
Aaron didn’t wait for her to finish. He slid his arms around her and pulled her down onto the pile of blankets she called a bed. The rough scratch of gravel through the blankets below them didn’t deter them from climbing all over each other with abandon. The faint sounds of the party competed with their heavy breathing as thoughts of their enemies faded, replaced with alternating waves of hunger and satisfaction. Together they managed to get the most out of their time.
Chapter 29. Face the Five
Cal woke as the door to his cell opened, letting in Hideon Bray. Gone was the friendly face of a recruiter. Bray’s expression was grim, jaw held tight. Five men were ranged behind him including Clay Duren, the beggar with the broken teeth, and three falsemarked, tattoos exposed. Cal slowly found his feet as Bray approached, flanked by two of the falsemarked. The others remained outside the cell. At a gesture from Bray, the two grabbed Cal, one to an arm, and roughly forced him to his knees.
“I trust you’ve had some good conversation with your cellmate?” Bray asked. Cal looked over at the corpse, the one Aaron had flown to Ellis with. Cal had never seen the dead man before, though the face would be barely recognizable if he had. It was bloated, blisters covering the exposed greenish skin. It had been on the other side of the line too long. The smell was awful. “You’ll have a lot in common with him shortly.”
Cal did his best to shrug with his arms held. It had been better company than the men he’d been imprisoned with just yesterday. He looked at the few gathered outside the cell. The beggar at the bars, face filled with a malicious eagerness. This was the first time Cal had seen him in the company of others. He was almost relieved to see that the man was real, not some sort of twisted creation of Cal’s mind.
Bray said, “You were supposed to spend the day in a cell, thinking about my offer. Not running aimlessly around Ellis. Did you accomplish what you needed to during your brief sojourn? Was the food so bad in the cells?” When Cal didn’t answer, Bray continued. “I promised you a night in the other cell, but I had a better idea. I’ve grown tired of conversing with you. You have information I want, but I can’t trust it. I can’t trust you. I hadn’t realized the ties that bind you to Aaron Lorne were so strong. I hadn’t realized you were so weak to fall in line behind a coward. I can only assume you told Aaron Lorne everything I told you. No doubt he had some information to give you.”
Cal opened his mouth to respond. Bray suddenly rammed his fist forward into Cal’s gut. As Cal fought for breath, Bray said, “I just told you I was tired of conversing with you. Listen. Don’t speak. In fact, let’s make that easier for you.”
One of the falsemarked grabbed Cal’s face, twisting his jaw in a strong fist. A rag was stuffed into his mouth. Part of the dirty cotton rag dipped back into his throat. He gagged, fighting it, tried to spit it out. The falsemarked pushed it in deeper. Cal tried to bite him and got punched hard in the neck by the other one.
“You’ll like this,” Cal heard Bray saying from what seemed like far away. “It will make this whole thing simpler.”
Cal’s eyes were blurred with tears as he shook his head violently, trying to get the hands off of it. They had a metal contraption they were lowering over his head. Now a third falsemarked had his hands on Cal’s head. Cal felt a thick metal band fall over his lips, trapping the rag inside his mouth. Moments later, it was cruelly tightened by some sort of winch in the back, locking his mouth shut. He shook his head free. The falsemarked released it but still held his arms.
Cal was able to catch his breath, breathing rapidly in and out through his nose. He heard the other men laughing. He straightened his head to glare at them, prompting more mirth. He tentatively tried to open his mouth. The metal gag was so tight it sealed his lips in place. He was only able to painfully scrape his teeth along the inside of his mouth. He couldn’t talk. It was hard enough to breath with the rag in place.
“Let him go,” Bray said, and the falsemarked dropped his arms. “Leave us.” The falsemarked left. Only the beggar, Clay, and one of the falsemarked, a high ranking one, remained with Bray. As Bray stepped out of the cell, Cal felt at the back of his head. The metal gag ran a full circle around his face, enclosing his whole jaw in grey steel, closed tightly at the back with a winch he couldn’t turn with his bare fingers. Being forced to breathe through his nose, the death smell of the corpse he shared his cell with was overpowering.
Bray stepped outside, locked the cell door, then tossed the key to the high ranking falsemarked. “Hold that. It’s the only one. He’s made too many enemies among the men. No more surprises. No more opportunities for escape.” Bray turned to Cal. “Most of my ranks are not aware that their marks are temporary and that my pet mark master is dead. If I can’t find another way to convince the dragons of their worthiness, the status of my riders will be reduced. Since you met with Lorne, there’s a chance you’ve already put this together. Your value has changed. I wanted your knowledge of the Deathbowl, but you represent a much greater risk than before. So much so that I have trouble deciding whether to let you live or die. Clay says live. Pallor says die. I haven’t even had a chance to ask Aubrey.”
Bray looked at the falsemarked who had caught the key. He was nearly as tall as Bray, thick layers of muscle covered in bronze marks. And not Bray’s imitation marks. Cal could tell even from a glance this man had earned his own. Bray gave his name as Aubrey. This would be the one who killed everyone in the hospital then. A popular g
uy in Ellis. Aubrey made a show of studying Cal before turning to Bray and offering a thumbs down.
Bray gave Cal a cold smile. “Looks like you’ll have your chance to die. I’m hoping we can at least get some fun out of you. You’ve been so disappointing otherwise.” He leaned in close to the thick metal bars. “We’ll be back for you shortly. Just need to greet some guests, get the last details in place.” As he turned to the door, he asked, “Wishing you had that offer back on the table?” Cal was unable to reply, muzzled by steel. “You’re going to have some fun tonight.”
Bray and his crew left, taking all the light with them. Cal was left in the darkness, mute and worried, the smell of death overpowering.
…
It wasn’t long before Aubrey Narrows returned with more men. They got Cal on his feet and out of the cell. It was only a short few flights of stairs to the uppermost level of the Shields, this cell being much closer to the top of the bluffs than Cal’s earlier accommodations.
As they entered the Shields, Cal flinched under the bright light. The whole area was lit by the fire of hundreds of braziers, turning the glass arcs above orange. Between the stands of light and heat hundreds of NEST celebrated, drinks in hand. Bray was throwing a party. From the knowing looks and jeers Cal was getting from many of the more boisterous men as he was led in as a prisoner, muzzled in steel, Cal was a guest of honor.
He tried to keep focused, ignore the grinding pain and humiliation of his situation. He was getting an insider view of a massive NEST gathering. Prisoner or no, he couldn’t afford to waste it. What was he seeing? Where were the cracks in the machine? There were no dragons in sight. There were far more blues than falsemarked. Many were openly drunk, clearly enjoying the party. Minimal responsibilities, low stakes. This was the edge of the crowd, working for gold, not particularly loyal to Bray or NEST. Still, there were a lot, and Bray held the most gold. Even the drunkest man straightened up slightly at the sight of Aubrey making his way through the crowd. Cal sensed some resentment, maybe a little fear. The falsemarked held sway over the blues.
Cal was looking around so intently he nearly missed the first step downward. He’d thought the top level of the Shields was flat, but he was now looking out over a crowd. There were a series of wide steps which led down to the cliff’s edge atop the bluffs. It created a sort of amphitheater, the focal center right next to the edge of the bluffs, looking out over Ellis. Cal was at the highest point, the real edge of the gathering. The VIPs were in the low center.
Cal had thought he’d seen the beauty of the Shields before, but he hadn’t seen everything. Bray, of course, stood at the center of the amphitheater. Ellis was lit up behind him, endless rows of tall metal towers, sparks of light in their windows. A thicket of trapped fireflies. Bray stood serenely, gladhanding with his most important guests, the stunning backdrop creating the image that he owned Ellis. Not far off. Bray was shirtless, large muscles exposed to the firelight. Still managed to look regal.
Cal did his best to catalogue everyone in the innermost circle. Clay was there, for once not carrying his loaded crossbow. A few other high ranking blues based on their uniforms. A lot of falsemarked. Some well-dressed citizens, nobility or government. The nobles were easy to identify because they grew their hair long. One of the most expensively dressed caught Cal’s eye with a ridiculous high white puff of hair with thick sideburns. Cal tried to grin when he saw Miles Gerben, the government guy whose nose he’d broken. The painful tug of the muzzle on his lips reminded him how dire his situation was. Miles recognized Cal and gave him a large smile from under the bandage covering his nose. No doubt looking forward to the entertainment. There were a few judges, some in grey robes, others red. No sign of the beggar, but Cal doubted he’d gone far.
Bray broke off a conversation with a shrug of his huge shoulders and turned to watch Cal’s entrance. Cal studied Bray’s face, lit in a way Cal had only seen once before. When Bray had touched the dragon as Cal first approached yesterday, Cal had seen this life in Bray. During the rest of their conversation, he had seemed to be going through the motions. Now he looked alive again. This was his revenge. He likes having a prisoner, likes the humiliation. Making Cal pay in some small measure for the sins of the Corvale, most of whom had died before he was old enough to shave. Bray lived for dragons and for revenge. Two very dangerous things in the hands of the man who’d built this empire and still wasn’t near satisfied.
Bray raised his hands and the sounds of the gathering died away. Only the low whistle of the winds over the bluffs carried forward. Cal silently vowed to die with dignity. Like Bray, he was shirtless, marks exposed to the men. He was unchained though the falsemarked who had escorted him still held his arms.
“My brothers, my brothers.” Bray paced as he spoke to the crowd, loud voice booming. “Ten days.” A long dramatic pause. “Ten days to Garenhold by caravan. Seven days by horse. Seven days. Fourteen days to Delhonne. If the weather holds. More than a month to Danette. Which includes nearly a week struggling through the Driftless.
“We can do Garenhold in eight hours. Delhonne in a day. Need a contract delivered to Delhonne? We’ll do it today. Need a ride to Garenhold, no questions asked. No problem. Want a man dead in Porcenne? We’ll have orders to our local office before dawn, his head back here tomorrow. We can bring back one of the legendary Porcenne pleasure mistresses while we’re at it. All for a fee of course.
“We have unchained the west. Every industry begs for our attention. Every merchant begs for our services. Every noble, every politician, a seat at our table. Infantry was a relic when cavalry arrived. Now cavalry is a relic. We have entered an age of dragons. And no one has more dragons than NEST. Gentlemen, we are on the path to becoming gods.
“Record profits. Record growth. Half of our original competition wised up and joined us. The rest are dead.” Bray took a long drink. “Does anyone have cause for complaint?” The crowd cheered loudly. Some yelled out, others shouted jokes. “Good. That is good. I have only two.” The crowd fell quiet as Bray raised two fingers. “Two causes for complaint. Two things that rob me of my sleep. The first is Aaron Lorne. You all know Aaron Lorne, right?” The name was greeted with a chorus of boos.
“He came west with a proposal. Would you like to hear it?” More shouting. “He offered to buy NEST.” This time the jeers were so loud Bray had to wait for them to die down to continue. “He quoted me a laughable amount, a sad glimpse into how NEST’s great rival is withering away before our eyes. I was curious so I refrained from simply breaking his face over my knee. I wanted to hear more about this deal. I wanted to hear more from the man who killed one of my captains in a crowded bar on the Garen-Tannes border. Didn’t even have the courage to do it himself. Had his pet freak minotaur do it. You all hear about that?”
This time Bray’s dangerous tone was calling for silence. It was greeted with it. “So I said, ‘Master Lorne, you’ve already shown us your true colors. How could I know my men would be safe if I handed you NEST? What would become of them if I accepted your offer?’ He said you would all go on trial. What do you think of that? You think you are deserving of trial? I asked him on trial for what and he said only the Corvale are allowed to ride dragons. He said any who have ridden dragons, have bonded with any of our beautiful allies, those men will lose a foot. Will have a foot cut off, some Corvale savagery.”
Bray stopped pacing and looked out at the crowd. “I said, you know what, I’m in.” They laughed. Some gave mock boos. “Soon I’ll be richer and you will all walk like this.” Bray began hobbling around in a circle, one foot bent inwards, as the crowd roared.
“Then I told him to screw right off. I told him I was overdue on something. I knocked him down to the ground. I said, ‘Turn around and get out of Ellis. Run back to your butler up in the mountains, and tell him henceforth, NEST is at war with the SDC.’” The crowd cheered. “We took the west. Are you ready for the east?!”
Cal studied the reaction of the crowd, trying to gauge the
ir level of enthusiasm at the announcement of a war. The many young and untested among the blues and falsemarked cheered loud and long, excited. The older men were more subdued. They knew someone always paid, even among the winners.
“Good. Enjoy your evening. Drink. Eat. Someone finally please beat Aubrey in arm wrestling so he will shut up about it.” Bray turned as if finished. At the last moment he flung his hand back up, halting the conversations that had started to fill the brief void. “Wait. There was one more thing.”
He looked at Cal. “I said I had two complaints, didn’t I?” Another long pause. “Theft. Cowardly, creeping thieves. They will haunt us everywhere we go. Men who would take what is ours. Not earn it. Try to slink away with it when our backs are turned. My brothers, I bring before you a man who has achieved something few have dared to attempt and fewer have succeeded. I bring to you a thief. A man who has stolen NEST dragons.”
At a gesture from Bray, Aubrey pulled Cal into the center of the open space and left him to stand alone. Cal was in front of Bray, in full view of the crowd, metal brace over his mouth robbing him of any dignity. The crowd jeered. At another gesture, a group of men at the front of the crowd leapt into action. They arranged themselves around Cal, each maybe twelve paces away. Each man held a burlap sack. Something inside hissed and thrashed.
Rise of the Falsemarked (Spies of Dragon and Chalk Book 2) Page 21
