Void Emissary: The Book of the Void Part 1

by Lon Varnadore

  “Yes, sir, just needed to wait—”

  The purser gave Kyp a small grin. “Well, the wait is over. How much—”

  “I want to keep ten percent in the ship,” Kyp said. He then shut his mouth with a click, not knowing where that came from.

  “Very well, Master Sark. And you, Mr. Duro?” The purser asked. Kyp was impressed there wasn’t the usual vitriol between the two. Though he was doing his job, Kyp thought.

  “Five percent to the ship,” Duro said, his fleshy left hand slipped out. It was more like an Earthman’s hand, yet the fingers were long and slender, plus Kyp had seen webbing between them. Yet, Duro kept that away from prying eyes if he could help it.

  “Very well then.” The purser nodded, doling out the black iron trade coins. “Enjoy.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The light of the red dwarf of Proxima Centauri was enough for her to read by. Alpha and Beta had set. Reading was all Sarena could do since she had been locked up in this damn prison. Thanks to Lightman, that prick. She let her eyes try and roam over the pages again, yet this was the third time she had read this translation of the Urlish poems, and they were abysmal. She finally slammed the book closed and threw the leather-bound book across the room.

  “Troubles, milady?” Toth asked, turning his head to look up at Sarena from his position on the seat of the other chair in the chamber.

  “I’m always having troubles,” Sarena said with a huff before sitting back in the chair and grumbling.

  “You know; you could make a better prisoner. That way, you would have a chance to—”

  “Shut up Toth. You only say these things when you know it will irritate me.”

  The furry Lasha gave her a grin and settled his head on his front paws. “Is that any way to speak to your betters?”

  “If you are my better, I weep for the species,” Sarena shot back. She scowled at the small feline creature. “Why can't you go out and find help again?”

  “It would be beneath me to try and escape when my servant is stuck in such a hellish place,” Toth said. He then let out a yawn and settled his head on his paws again. “Besides,” he murmured. “I’m so very tired from having to chase that string earlier with your ladies in waiting.”

  Sarena cocked back a hand to swat at the Lasha. He was truly irritating. Yet, he was also the closest thing she had to a friend. Plus, if she lost or hurt Toth, her ship would never forgive her. “How Benny can possibly like such a creature is—”

  “There is a long history of trust between the Lasha and the IIvan ,” Toth said without looking up at her. “And besides, if you do hurt me, Benny will leave you here and weep for ten years before even thinking of returning to his home.”

  “Like Benny wants to ever go home.”

  “Wouldn’t have a choice,” Toth said, letting out a very cat-like yawn. “The IIvan are very rigid in their—”

  “Hold on, are we truly having a discussion about my ship leaving, when I know for a fact he wouldn’t leave until we are both dead?”

  “Entirely possible,” Toth said. “I’m so tired from—”

  “Spare me,” she said. She looked around the prison cell again. There had to be some way out of here. Well, besides marrying that vile toad Brenden. “Remind me to kill Lightman when I see him again.”

  “Brenden doesn’t seem so bad,” Toth said. “He does have a strong army. A mind that isn't quite as pathetic as most of your species and—”

  “Get out of my head, Toth.” Sarena interrupted. “I hate when you do that.” She moved one knee over the other. She picked at her skirt, hated it, and dropped the fabric.

  “Stating a fact, milady,” Toth said, closing his eyes.

  “Drop the ‘milady’ shtick. We both know—”

  “My Lady Winter, are you well?” a guard asked from behind the thick witchwood door.

  “Fine. Simply having a conversation with… myself.”

  “Ah, very well,” the guard said. She then heard him move away a little and looked at Toth. The Lasha had settled on a rug of some furred beast of the planet. Probably some kind of bear-like creature. Sarena wasn’t sure. It was bear-like, except it had something that looked like feathers and the beak and head of an owl. The rest of her “cell” was well-appointed with bookcases of mahogany-like wood full of books, even if most of it is simpering poetry and love stories. A large bed of thick oak-like wood took up a portion of the room with silks and a feather mattress. It was a nice prison, but still a prison. Looking at the wood of the stone room made her again regret the decision to try and come to Wormwood with Lightman to “trade” metal for witchwood.

  “Wonderful, now he thinks I’m nuts.” She pushed herself from the seat to get down, coming face to face with Toth’s small head. “Happy now?”

  “When I get some cream and fish, I’ll be happy. And some sleep, because—”

  This time, she did smack Toth. He was silent. He cracked open one of his green eyes, the black-slitted pupil dilating for a moment, glared at her, rolled onto his other side, and yawned again.

  She stood up, stepped on the white taffeta dress again, and wanted to scream. She longed to wear a decent set of leathers again; real aeronaut gear instead of this ridiculous outfit. Yet the plan had called for her to wear a dress. And to act more lady-like, which was what Toth was supposed to have helped her with. Yet, the little bastard had spent his time making nice with the ladies-in-waiting and gobbled up their offerings of cream and fish and smoked meats. “When we get back to Benny, you are on strict rations.”

  He didn’t respond, simply rolled onto his back, stretched out his six legs, then rolled onto his stomach, tucked his legs in, and started to sleep, truly sleep. Serena could feel the creature’s mind in hers. The little part that was Toth curled up in her mind and shut off for a bit.

  Good, damn bastard thinks he knows everything. She went to the fireplace, poking at the wood and trying to stoke the fire. It was getting damn cold, and this dress did little to help warm her. She had been in here three days already, who knew how long the prince would allow her to stay before he got sick of her and cut her head off.

  Where did the plan go so wrong? She asked herself. She had come here—with Lightman—for a quick hustle. Get a few trees of witchwood, take it to the merchant’s district on Centauri, and make a mint. Instead, she had been found out and the lie of being a princess got her in front of the region’s royalty, who was desperate for a wife. Looking at King Brenden, there was little to dissuade her from wanting to go. He had money, yet his face and politics were crude, even for a backwater.

  And Lightman had double-crossed her. When she got her hands on that scumbag, she’d tear him apart piece by piece. She felt herself vibrating with anger. Toth even turned back to look at her for a moment before yawning again and going back to sleep. She had trusted him. Loved him. Hell, part of her still missed him being closer to her. “He’s probably half way to Europa by now.” At least he can’t use Benny. Not without Toth or me there. It was a small comfort, yet it was enough for the moment.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The ballroom was exquisite with the finery of the soon-to-be-party. The Five Families attached their personal livery arranged around the room to show which station they would be taking up. The Miller-Kanz family was the biggest by far, carving out a full fifth of the ballroom. The gold and black with the twin serpents took up the area, and the tables for the section were covered in black silk tablecloths with gold embroidery around the edges A group of servants even had the Miller-Kanz livery. Pieter sensed they were men loyal to the Miller-Kanz family. That could be an issue. The Kanz marauders were known for great prowess. Even the Cerberi of the Emissaries were trained by them. Even Pieter had been trained by one, and had defeated only two in duels.

  The other families cut the rest of the ballroom into smaller sections. He ran down a mental list of names of vassal families by looking at the various liveries and decorations. He spied a sliver of his old House colors of blue and c
ream and the seal of a large silhouette of a storehouse. He looked at the two servants in his house colors that also served House Syth. None looked familiar or felt familiar.

  The others had vassal families to fill out the ranks, yet the Miller-Kanz would be the ones that Pieter had to watch for. He adjusted his silk cravat and took a step into the grand ballroom, the two steamjacks behind him stopping when he gave them a curt hand signal. He gave a look back, and they waited on either side of the doorway. “You two can return to the ship.”

  “We will wait here,” Seven said.

  Pieter sighed. “Then, wait.”

  “Aye sir,” Nine said.

  The flushed face of a servant, wearing the purple and silver of host family Thalis ran up to him. “I am sorry, sir. You aren't allowed—”

  The servant stopped short, throwing himself into a deep forehead-scraping bow when he saw the black coat and the sigil of the Void Emissary on his right breast. The wooden sword at Pieter’s hip gave the servant pause for a moment. “Forgive me, emissary, I didn’t know—”

  “Rise, child,” Pieter said with a soft voice. He watched as the servant picked himself up yet didn’t meet Pieter’s eyes. At least he is well-trained, and he is fully human. Interesting. Pieter knew the Thalis family liked to employ locals of the planet of their holding. “I was interested in seeing the ballroom before it started, is that allowed?”

  “Usually, no, emissary. Yet the Thalis family would love to have another emissary see what has been done so far.”

  “Another?” Pieter asked, his eyes sweeping the ballroom. Did I miss an Emissary?

  He felt one his brothers when he landed on Europa. And Tellish is here, Pieter thought. Tellish might wish to see Pieter since the incident five years ago. Yet Pieter was here for a specific reason. He needed to be here at the party tonight, the vision was clear. Without him here, The Imperium would be plunged into war.

  “Yes, Emissary. Two. A Healer and the advisor to the Thalis Family.”

  Pieter wondered what kind of “advising” Tellish could give the Thalis family. He gave a curt nod to the servant. “Thank you,” Pieter said. He moved into the ballroom proper. He gave one last look at Seven and Nine, who waited in their rigid stance.

  The first thing he noticed was the chandelier. It was immense. He had heard a story, yet knew he had to ask. “Is it true there are over five thousand individual crystals in the chandelier?”

  “More than ten thousand, emissary. Each one hand-crafted on the Dozen Worlds. Many forged with the help of the Zin.”

  Pieter nodded; it was a fine piece of craftsmanship. The stories were true. Yet it could be a story told to make an impression. He knew the main families spread stories of wealth and poverty of other families. He had been involved in some of them, both true and fabrications. For good or ill, the Void Emissaries are a symbol of the Imperium. He took a few more steps in and felt a pressure in his mind. He flicked his eyes to the side and saw another brother of his order, this one with the yellow sash of a Healer knotted on the right hip. He had the sleeves of his black coat pinned up, which was the true mark of his station as a Master Healer. Few choose to have their hands removed for the complicated surgery of a Healer. Without flesh of their hands, a Master could delve deep into a person’s body and remove cancer, gallstones, and even some parasites. Even fewer chose to have their arms removed to be considered a Master Healer. Pieter recognized him. “Brother Samuel?” There was a movement behind Samuel, yet Pieter focused on his former teacher.

  “Yes, Brother Pieter. It is good to witness you.” Samuel moved forward, giving a small bow as a formal greeting.

  “No need for such formality,” Pieter said. He saw the black cloak and coat of a Cerberi standing at the edge of the hallway. “Is that Tellish?”

  “Yes. He wishes to… stay where he is,” Samuel said with hesitation.

  Pieter gave Tellish a curt nod, which was returned with an even curter one. Still upset I see, he thought when the blocky face turned away to walk away from the ballroom.

  “You know that Tellish will never forgive you.” Samuel moved towards the refreshment tables, already filling up with delicious foods of all kinds.

  Pieter gave Tellish’s retreating form a smile and joined Samuel. The smells, which he tried to block out, invaded even his disciplined senses. He opened his mind a little, not touching the Void, but close to it to allow the sensations of the food hit him harder. His mouth watered at the beef, fowl, fish, and other savory dishes. The smell of the alcohol tempted him more, causing him to turn to the bartender who was waiting with a polite fake smile. Pieter could tell the man was afraid to be in the same room as he and Samuel. Two emissaries in the same room; I’m amazed the man hasn’t shit himself, Pieter thought. The bartender wasn’t like the servant. He was from this planet. Pieter saw the webbed fingers and a slight green sheen on his neck from patches of scales.

  “Aaron, be at peace,” Samuel said, moving closer to the nervous man. “Would you like something to drink, Brother Pieter?”

  “An ale would be divine,” Pieter said, moving closer.

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine,” Samuel said.

  Aaron gave the Void Emissaries a nod and went to fetch the drink orders. They were momentarily alone. Samuel leaned closer to Pieter. “What in the sodden pit do you think you are doing here, Brother?”

  Pieter felt anger coming off the Healer. “Can’t I come and enjoy a party?” Pieter asked with a smile. “Be at peace, Brother.”

  “I am calm. And the gala is for the Five Families, not the Embassy.”

  “And their vassal families. Am I not a member of House Strahd?”

  “You are not. You are a Void Emissary, your family bloodline scoured and any mention of you deleted from the archives,” Samuel said. “And you know such things. So, tell me why you are really here.”

  “To enjoy a possible spectacle,” Pieter said, giving Samuel a enigmatic smile.

  “I don't like it when you smile like that.”

  “Brother Samuel. I assure you, I will do nothing. I will respect the laws of hospitality,” Pieter said giving Samuel a wink. To a point, of course.

  Samuel looked at Pieter with a skeptical eye. Pieter hated that look. He remembered being a student of Samuel’s when he still had both arms, before the older man joined the ranks of the Healers. It was the look he gave when he knew Pieter was holding something back.

  “I will even take a pledge of bread and salt, if you wish,” Pieter said.

  “Even you wouldn’t break something like that,” Samuel said. If he still had his arms and hands, they would be folded up while Samuel thought, one hand rubbing at the bristles of white Samuel kept neatly trimmed to a point.

  Pieter looked back to the hall where Tellish had been. He had emerged from the shadows, his blocky features watching Samuel and Pieter like a hawk. “How is Tellish? How is it working for the Thalis family?”

  “It has been a bit of a struggle,” Samuel said. “There are times I regret… certain things.”

  Pieter looked at Samuel. Had Pieter not been close to touching the Void, he would have missed it. The desire to reach out and embrace the Void was tantalizing. Yet, if he did, Samuel and Tellish would know and be more suspicious of Pieter than they already were. He needed to do his work in secret. That was what Saheed had instructed. “Even if Samuel is there, you must do this in private. No one must know why you are there.”

  Looking to Samuel’s sleeve pins. “Such as?”

  “Yes, there is some regret there,” Samuel said looking at one of his pinned sleeves. He then looked at the bartender and gave a small nod. The wine flute floated up to Samuel’s lips and he took a small sip. “It is such an excellent vintage. Too bad I cannot have any more.”

  “Why not?” Pieter asked. He could smell the vintage from where he stood. It was one Samuel loved, a Higgs ’47. There is something wrong, Pieter thought. Samuel never passed up a drink of Higgs ’47.

  “You know why,�
�� Samuel said. “Too much of a risk.”

  “Are you sure?” Pieter asked, taking a long sip of the ale. It was a good brew, tasted like one his former family’s blends.

  Samuel gave Pieter a hard look.

  “This is the reason I think you are wasted here. Why come to Europa? You’re a renowned Healer. Your gifts wouldn’t be wasted here.”

  “I took my post, same as you, Brother,” Samuel said in an icy tone.

  Pieter sighed and took a long pull of the ale. “It is very good ale.” Samuel was never someone dedicated to his post. Saheed was right, something very wrong was going on here. I have to find out what. With or without Samuel’s help. Pieter had had hopes that his former teacher and friend might be cajoled into helping. Yet, that wouldn’t be the case.

  “Thank you,” the bartender said with a small smile.

  “You are most welcome.” Pieter finished the wooden mug, set it down and turned to walk away.

  “Are you leaving us, Brother?” Samuel asked. “You only just arrived.”

  “Only until the gala starts. I will return,” Pieter said. “I need a breath of fresh air.”

  When he moved to the same door he entered, he saw Tellish speaking to Seven and Nine.

  “Tellish, it is good—”

  “You should have stayed away,” Tellish said. He shoved a gloved finger into Pieter’s chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Is that any way to speak to the Master Blade?” Pieter asked. He couldn't help but twist the knife a little with the way Tellish was acting.

  “Don’t push me, Pieter. You cheated. That title should have been mine.”

  “And yet I’m the one with the title and the badge,” Pieter said, touching his cheek in thought. “I wonder what that means?”

  Pieter felt Tellish embrace the Void, hand going to the large witchwood sword on the Cerberi’s back. Pieter’s hand rested on his own.

  “Please sirs,” the livered servant who had let Pieter in before, appeared. He moved between the two men. “You can’t—”