The Third Soul Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  Maria was silent for a moment. “That is grim work. But it must be done. Some in the Temple would kill talented children out of hand, lest they grow up to become dangerous.”

  Rachaelis shook her head. “I don’t want to do it.”

  “There are some things in life that are hard, but must simply be done,” said Maria. “Perhaps this is one of them. And you can choose whether to be cruel and brutal, as some Adepts are, or merciful and compassionate. There is no need to rip the child from his family. But if you can explain the reasons to them, and perhaps secure work for them in the Ring…”

  “I…hadn’t thought of it that way,” said Rachaelis. The College Liberia would support hiring of freeborn servants over buying slaves, surely. “But my problems are small, in comparison to yours. How are things here?”

  Maria shrugged. “We do well enough. There are many hungry and sick to care for, and we Brothers and Sisters do what we can. The Conclave does not approve of us, but they dare not drive us out, lest they void their treaties with Callia and Rhomaria. But they do not help us. I sometimes think the Conclave would be content to let the entire city starve to death.”

  “Not the entire Conclave,” said Rachaelis, reaching into her cloak. “Perhaps this will help.”

  She took the pouch and dropped it into Sister Maria’s hands.

  The old woman’s eyes widened when she felt the weight of the pouch, and got even wider when she looked inside. “Rachaelis, this is…”

  “Take it,” said Rachaelis. “They give me a yearly allowance as an Adept. It’s far more money than I need, and I’ll never spend it all. And you’ll put it to better use than I ever will.”

  “Then I thank you,” said Maria. “And you are right. This will buy much food for the hungry.”

  “But not enough,” said Rachaelis.

  “Rachaelis,” said Maria, smiling. “You wonder why you were spared and your father was not. You wonder if your life at the Conclave has any purpose. And now you wonder why you survived the Testing, and if becoming an Adept will make you cruel and hard.”

  Rachaelis nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  Sister Maria hefted the pouch. “Tonight, no one here will go hungry, and for many nights hence. Perhaps you were spared for more reasons than you thought.”

  ###

  Afterwards, Rachaelis astraljumped back to her sitting room.

  Someone was pounding at the door. She blinked, hurried over, and unlocked the door.

  Marvane stood there, his frown relaxing when he saw Rachaelis. “Ah, Adept. I was about to take an axe to the door.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Rachaelis. “I drifted off while I was reading. You only just woke me.”

  Marvane snorted. “Well, you’ve had a rough few days. Lady Thalia would like to speak with you.”

  “Of course,” said Rachaelis.

  Marvane looked at her sidelong. “You must have had a good rest. You’re smiling.”

  “Yes,” said Rachaelis. “A very good rest.”

  Chapter 4 - Brother and Sister

  “And this,” said Luthair, “is the last contract.”

  Corthain nodded, signed his name, dripped hot wax onto the bottom of the page, and pressed his signet ring into it. Luthair had a flair for language and a thorough knowledge of Callian law, and had drawn up all the contacts. He claimed to have acquired his expertise while working as a clerk in a Callian magistrate’s court, but Corthain thought it more likely that Luthair had indulged in forgery a time or three.

  “Fifteen total, plus the contract from Salorin,” said Luthair. “We have done rather well.”

  “Better than I hoped,” said Corthain. “Especially after that chat with my father.” He had been sure that Arthain would use his influence to have the contracts canceled. Evidently his father had been telling the truth; matters of commerce were beneath a Magister's attention.

  “Shall we try to acquire others?” said Luthair.

  “No,” said Corthain. “At least, not on this trip. We’ll let rumor spread, let the other seneschals see how they are overpaying for inferior Orlanish wine. Next year, we’ll snap them up.”

  “We’ll leave tomorrow?” said Luthair.

  “Tomorrow, or the day after,” said Corthain. “I want to stop at Callia City, negotiate a favorable tariff rate with the Lord Exchequer. And then we can go home.”

  Home. It still surprised Corthain to think of Moiria as home. For nearly ten years he had been homeless, wandering from one end of the world to the other with his mercenary company, But Moiria, with its hills and streams and vineyard, had become his home.

  And Araspan was no longer home. If it ever had been.

  “So in other words,” said Luthair, rising, “I should find us a ship.”

  “Aye,” said Corthain. “With an honest captain. No pirates. We won’t need as much cargo space this time, since the seneschals drank up most of our wine.”

  Luthair grinned. “You know, if we drank up the rest of it, you would save quite a bit of money on cargo fees…”

  “No,” said Corthain. “Find a ship.”

  Luthair gave a mocking little bow. “As you will, my lord.”

  He left. Corthain rolled up the last contract, sealed it, and put it away with the others. Yes, all told, everything had indeed gone very well. He had the contracts in hand, especially the prestigious one with Salorin. If the wines of Moiria proved popular, then other noble Houses and wine merchants might decide to sign contracts as well.

  Though he wished he could have avoided his father entirely.. It had brought back too many memories. Memories of Solthain, and the fight at Paulus's tower, and the men screaming as the ghouls ripped them apart...

  Enough. The past was past. And Thalia was alive, wasn’t she? That was something, though no doubt she had turned into a younger version of Arthain.

  Corthain rose, working the stiffness from his muscles, and reached for his sword. He had spent too long sitting and talking and writing. An hour or so practicing the Forms of the Sword would do him good. He drew his sword, swinging the blade in a loose flourish…

  The door banged open, and Luthair hurried inside.

  He was not smiling.

  “You know already?” he said, looking at Corthain’s sword.

  “Know what?” said Corthain.

  “There’s an Adept in the common room,” said Luthair. “Demanding to see you. Now.”

  Corthain slid his sword back into its scabbard. “My father, I presume?”

  “Not unless your father’s a woman,” said Luthair. “I’ve heard of magic doing some strange things, but that would take the prize.”

  “A woman?” said Corthain, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. He had known several female Adepts and Magisters during his time with the Swords, but he had never been close to any of them. Why would one seek him out now?

  “Maybe she wants to buy wine?” said Luthair.

  “Oh, undoubtedly,” said Corthain. “Let’s go see what she wants before she blows up the building.”

  Luthair blinked. “She…can do that?”

  “And worse,” said Corthain. “And the law in Araspan would favor her.”

  He left his suite and hurried down to the Silver Coin Inn’s common room. The patrons murmured to each other in low voices. The innkeeper stood by the door, face nervous. Next to him waited a tall woman in the blood-colored robes of an Adept, her foot tapping impatiently. Corthain took a deep breath and walked over. The Adept had black hair arranged in an elaborate pile, and bright green eyes, and…

  Corthain came to a stop.

  It was Thalia.

  Thalia had remained a girl of thirteen in his memory. For some reason the thought that she had grown to become a woman, and a beautiful one at that, had never occurred to him.

  “Thalia?” said Corthain, astonished.

  She stepped towards him, nostrils flaring. In that moment she looked a lot like their father.

  “You bastard!” she said.


  Corthain braced himself, expecting the same rage he had seen in Arthain.

  “You were in the city,” said Thalia, “and you didn’t even tell me? You didn’t even try to visit?”

  Her resemblance to their father came to a sudden halt.

  “Ah…what?” said Corthain.

  “I heard from Father that you were in Araspan,” said Thalia, glaring, “and he only mentioned it in passing. So that’s it, then? You haven’t seen your sister for twelve years, and you try to sneak out of the city without even stopping by?”

  “I didn’t think you would want to see me,” said Corthain.

  Puzzlement subdued Thalia’s anger for a moment. “What? Why not?”

  “Because of Solthain,” said Corthain.

  “What does he have to do with anything?” said Thalia.

  Corthain felt his mouth twist. “Because you think I got him killed.”

  “Why would you think that?” said Thalia.

  “Because…you told me that,” said Corthain, confused. No, wait, she hadn’t, had she? Those weeks after Solthain’s death and Paulus’s fall had been a confused blur of pain and regret. “Father...Father told me that you blamed me, that you locked yourself in your room and refused to come out.”

  “You idiot,” said Thalia. “You believed him?” She stalked towards him, eyes wide with anger. “Father refused to let me see you while you were recovering. And then one day you were gone. I had to find out from the slaves that you had been banished for ten years. I wondered for years what had become of you, and after I became an Adept I tried to find out, but no one knew.” She shook her head. “And then Father happens to mention that he saw you.”

  “So…you don’t blame me?” said Corthain. “For what happened to Solthain?”

  Thalia let out a long breath. “Father told me that you had gotten Solthain killed, but I knew better. Solthain was always listening to Father go on and on about how the Adepts were the sole guardians of the High Art, how we alone had the power to stop demons and forbidden magic. And Solthain...always wanted to impress Father, always wanted to live up to him. How better to do it than to take down an Adept who consorted with demons? I know what happened. You tried to talk him out of it, tried to get reinforcements, but he wouldn’t listen. It was his own fault. And it was only sheer dumb luck that he didn’t get the both of you killed.”

  “Oh,” said Corthain, blinking. “I…misjudged you, I think.”

  “How so?”

  “I didn’t seek you out because I thought you would have become a younger version of Father,” said Corthain. “A grim fanatic, like him. And I didn’t even know if you were still alive. You were an Initiate when I left, and I didn’t know if you had survived the Testing or not.”

  “Well, I did survive,” said Thalia.

  “Yes, I see that,” said Corthain. “And I am glad that you did.”

  “And I didn’t know what happened to you, either,” said Thalia. “Then I heard about the Battle of Dark River, how Corthain Kalarien saved the West from the Jurgur horde. So I knew you were still alive, at least.” Her frown twitched briefly into a smile. “And that my older brother was doing well for himself. The Hammer of Dark River and all that.”

  “I was made a Callian domn after the battle,” said Corthain.

  “Really?” said Thalia, lifting an eyebrow. “A Callian lord? Oh, that must have infuriated Father.”

  “He was not pleased,” said Corthain. “Not at all.”

  “I can just imagine,” said Thalia, and she began to laugh, and Corthain found himself laughing with her.

  She caught him in a fierce hug.

  “I’ve missed you, Corthain,” she said.

  “And I have missed you,” he said. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  Thalia snorted and stepped back, her hands still on his shoulders. “And in all this time, you never thought to ask me yourself?”

  “I suppose I am a fool,” said Corthain. “I should have known that Father would lie to me. Or at least that Father would tell his version of the truth. I should have known better than to take his word for it.”

  “Men,” said Thalia with a roll of her eyes. “You always have to overcomplicate things. You need a woman if anything is to get done.”

  Luthair snickered.

  “Oh?” said Thalia, glancing at him. “And just who is this? He took off like a rat from a sinking ship when I came in.”

  “This is Luthair, my seneschal,” said Corthain.

  Smiling, Luthair took Thalia’s hand and bowed over it. “I am your brother’s most devoted servant, my lady Adept, though I confess I do have but one grudge against him.”

  “Indeed?” said Corthain.

  “He never mentioned that he had a sister, nor one so radiantly beautiful,” said Luthair.

  Thalia laughed. “I like him. I suspect he would try to rob me the minute I turned my back, but I like him.”

  “You wound me, my lady,” said Luthair.

  “Aren’t you going to say that she’s as perceptive as she is beautiful?” said Corthain. "That's your usual line."

  “Such calumnies I must endure, and unjustly,” said Luthair.

  “Now, now,” said Thalia. “It could be much worse. After all, if you had touched almost any other Adept, they might have killed you on the spot.”

  Luthair grinned. “But what is life without a little risk?”

  Thalia laughed again. “Corthain, is there somewhere we might speak? I think we’ve put on quite enough of a show for the Inn’s other guests.”

  Corthain looked around, realized that the innkeeper, the servants, and the guests were all staring. Well, he could hardly blame them for that. It was not every day that an Adept reconnected with her exiled brother, after all.

  “Yes,” said Corthain. “My rooms, upstairs.”

  “Permit me the honor,” said Luthair, “of leading the way.”

  ###

  “So you came all this way for wine?” said Thalia.

  They sat at the table in the suite’s dining room. He had sent Luthair and Rikon and the others away, but he had no doubt that Morwen was listening at the door. Possibly Luthair, too.

  “It’s more than wine,” said Corthain. “The majority of my freeholders are vintners. They rely upon the wine trade for their bread and cheese. The previous domn of Moiria was a good man, but a lethargic one. He was content to collect his taxes, and do little else. He never lifted a finger to increase the trade.”

  “That is an…alien attitude,” said Thalia. “The Conclave regards Araspan solely as a means of support, a cow to be milked. Hardly any of the Adepts give a thought to the people in the city, or to the slaves. This idea, that a domn tries to improve the lot of his people…I like it. It rather suits you, I think.”

  Corthain laughed. “You give me too much credit.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Thalia, lifting her glass. “This is excellent wine, by the way.”

  “I’ll make a gift of the cask to you,” said Corthain.

  “That’s very generous.”

  “And somewhat self-interested,” said Corthain. “If you’re as gregarious as I remember, you’ll wind up sharing the wine. Your friends will be impressed, and when Salorin receives the first of my wine casks…word will have already spread.”

  Thalia laughed. “Clever. But it’s a pity I didn’t find out you were here until yesterday. I sponsored an Initiate for the Testing, and she survived. Her banquet would have made an ideal occasion for this wine.”

  Corthain shook his head. “My own fault. I should have contacted you myself.”

  “But speaking of cleverness, Corthain…how did you become a domn? What happened at Dark River?” said Thalia. “I don’t suppose the Callian King gives out domniums lightly.”

  “No,” said Corthain. He sat in silence for a moment. “It is…difficult to talk about. A dark memory. I suppose if you survived the Testing, whatever it is, then you know of what I speak.”

  “Yes,�
� said Thalia, voice soft.

  “But this is what happened,” said Corthain. “I had a mercenary army, two thousand strong. We worked for the various petty lordlings of the West and the city-states of the South. When the Jurgur horde came out of the East, the nations of the West set aside their differences and joined to fight them.”

  “Even some Adepts and Swords went, I recall,” said Thalia.

  “Yes.” Corthain rubbed the hilt of his sword. “I’ve seen a lot of wars, Thalia, and often one side looks the same as another. Not this, though. The Jurgurs were cruel beyond anything I had seen. When they captured a city, they hung the men by their own entrails. They crucified children, forced the mothers to watch. The women they pinned to the ground, with stakes through their wrists and ankles, and raped them until they bled to death. And the Jurgur shamans were the worst of all. They summoned demons, bound them to the dead and living alike. They practiced blood sorcery, and sometimes would butcher an entire village to fuel their spells.”

  “That was why the Conclave sent Adepts,” said Thalia.

  “Yes,” said Corthain. “Not that they were good for much. Well, every soldier in the West was pulled into the army, and mine were no exception. We met the Jurgur horde in eastern Rhomaria, and the battle was a disaster. Half of our host was scattered, and the other half retreated into the fortifications at Dark River.”

  “Were you with them?” said Thalia.

  “No,” said Corthain. “My company was marching up when the rest of the army broke. Most of the leaders were dead, and the entire Jurgur horde pressed on to the fortifications. That was a mistake. They hadn’t killed nearly as many men as they thought. So I gathered them up, and took command. I thought some might protest, but I think they were glad someone was there to tell them what to do. The Jurgurs had dug in for the assault on the fortifications, and were stretched out along the river. Nearly two hundred thousand of them.”

  “And so you hit them from behind,” said Thalia.

  “Yes,” said Corthain. “They were trapped. They had no place to go, and there were too many of them crowded into too small of a space. It was like…slaughtering cattle, Thalia. The Dark River was in flood, and thousands of them drowned.” He shook his head. “I think we wiped out three-quarters of the Jurgur nation that day. The rest fled back to the Outlands, or into the West, and got captured by slave traders. I saw a lot of Jurguri slaves in the streets.”