Guns of the Temple (The Polaris Chronicles Book 1)
Page 23
“We meet again, Taki Natalis.”
“Are you angry at me, Aslatiel van Halcon?”
“Quite the opposite. It’s obvious that you’ve changed since we last talked, and that you’ve also had a hand in changing things around you.”
Taki grimaced and looked away. “At too high a price.”
“Yet you have your integrity intact. That’s rare in this world.”
“Integrity means little without strength. And I lack it, sorely.”
“Then start by improving your swordsmanship,” Aslatiel said. He gracefully turned his kriegsmesser onto its side and presented it to Taki, blade facing politely away from the intended recipient. “We owe you a new blade, anyway.”
His hands trembling, Taki accepted. It felt light and strong, balanced on his fingertips. “Thank you.” He looked back up at Aslatiel. “Why are you doing this?”
Aslatiel smiled and opened his mouth to say something else, when an enraged Lucatiel pounced and began to drag him away by the scruff.
“Bastard!” she snarled at Taki. “Stop seducing my brother. I’ve got your number! I’ve got your ass!”
Taki blinked in amazement, and then started to blush. “I’m not doing anything!”
Lucatiel leveled one of her pistols at him and sent two rounds into the soft earth at his feet. “Man-whore!”
Aslatiel could only shrug. Taki clutched the kriegsmesser to his chest and started to laugh. It was a bizarre ending to what had been an impossible day.
14
The field hospital stank of putrefying bowel. The groans of the wounded melted onerously together into a single, uninterrupted dirge. It had been less than a day, and already the survivors knew that their homeland was lost to the Imperium. Everyone had seen the padishah arrive earlier on board his shining golden-crimson flying carriage. As the sublime relic had descended on the battlefield in the thick of the Liberation Army, the cheer could be heard all the way on the Dominion side. Although actual negotiations with the new basileus—called “The Usurper” by some—were still ongoing, the conclusion was inevitable. The official counts were not ready yet, but the whispers were of two thousand Argead dead. The Imperials had supposedly lost nearly double that number, though by the high spirits in the opposing camp, one would think they had lost only the least-loved officers.
Despite the shock of defeat, most Argeads only wanted to go home. Preparing their homesteads for the winter was a task that most of the men fighting that day needed to get back to. Empires rose and fell, but the seasons did not wait. Taki counted himself among the lucky ones from the battle, for at least he was able to walk, albeit slowly and burdened by a nagging ache in his trunk with every breath. The others were still fresh from the surgeons’ ministrations and confined to bed. He had been helping change their bandages. It was a welcome distraction from the fact that he had nearly wiped two armies off the face of the earth on the orders of the Usurper. He sat at Lotte’s bedside, attentively dabbing blood away from a weeping gash on her forehead.
“Natalis,” Lotte said. She sat up in her cot, her expression sleepy. The shock of seeing her rise despite elephantine doses of laudanum from earlier nearly made Taki knock over a stack of linens. For the second time, and now up close, he could see just how many scars she wore on her back. Tracks of white and pink with the stars of old bullet and bolt wounds. A map of the battles of her life.
“Captain, you shouldn’t be up, you need to rest—”
She shushed him.
“I feel better now. I’m a quick healer. How is your chest feeling? The major told me that what the Chronicler did to you has killed many more powerful men.”
Taki glanced down at his own body. Nearly his entire torso was covered with dark purple bruises. “Just a little soreness, that’s all. I’m more concerned about how everyone else is doing. I heard Draco’s leg got broken, and…”
“…And it’s a little greenstick fracture. I’ll be walking tomorrow, whether the sawbones like it or not!” Draco said, pulling aside the dividing curtain hiding his bed. True to his word, his right leg was bound up in a bulky plaster splint. He busily pried at the edges with his fingers in an effort to scratch an itch underneath.
“Karma almost gave him a sponge bath by accident!” Hadassah snickered, also woken by the noise. Before she could say more, she turned pale and gagged. Earlier, the surgeons had forced her to swallow a potent elixir of garlic extract for prognosis. They could smell no leakage from the wound, so she was likely to live. So they had said, at least.
Draco shuddered. “I’d rather have a wanking from one of those Alfa.”
“Blow me, Emreis. You’d be lucky to get a sponge bath from me. You need one, too,” Karma said. He flipped Draco off with his unwounded hand.
“You lot…” Taki gingerly tied a new length of gauze around Lotte’s head. “I almost got you all killed. Shouldn’t you be angrier? Why are you acting like nothing happened?”
“Natalis,” Draco chuckled, “Almost getting killed is part of this job. Or were you asleep for that part of the academy?”
Taki sighed. They still didn’t get it. “I was working for minister Gillette in secret. That’s why I was given that damned Behelit. I nearly threw away everyone’s lives.”
Lotte shrugged. “So what do you want me to do? Smack you? I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Yeah, and you won. The minister is the basileus now,” Hadassah said. “So it all worked out in the end. We’re going to hit her up for favors since she owes you one, and therefore, owes us!” She cackled and rubbed her hands together. Friction made the smell of garlic waft around the room again, and she stuck her tongue out in disgust.
“Aye,” Draco said. “We’re all up for a hanging anyway, so what’s a little treason going to add? And maybe we’ll be forgiven now, right? Basically I agree with Dassa.”
“My, good sir. You’re matured impressively since our last meeting. Maybe you’ll be able to socialize with women who aren’t completely insane,” Hadassah said.
“Oh be quiet, you damned garlic-chugger.”
“In truth, Natalis, we all suspected you were up to something, but we trusted you,” Lotte said. “You’ve fought alongside us and bled with us. Or was your bluster about reclaiming the unit name all for show?”
“Even though we’ve lost? Even though the Dominion is no more?” Taki asked. “I might’ve cost you all your futures. What if we’re all forced into the streets tomorrow?”
“Calm down,” Karma said. “Changes don’t happen overnight, even with new overlords. We’ll simply have to take things as they come. More than likely, we’ll be back at the Cloud Temple in a fortnight, but hopefully not peeling potatoes. After all, why should the exarch care now?”
“I’m pretty sure we’ll be peeling,” Lotte said. She took one of Taki’s hands in hers. “In any case, I’ve been thinking, Natalis. You may have been forced to join us, but you’ve become our friend. You also have talent and guts. So even though the rank may not mean anything when the Dominion Army is dissolved, I’m using my authority to promote you. You are now Cornet Natalis, an officer candidate of the junior grade. Congratulations,” She smiled. “Sorry, I don’t have the official insignia on me, but I’ll update it on the ledger as soon as I can.”
“Now you have to take us all out for drinks!” Hadassah said. “Better have saved up, sir!”
“It’s customary! After all, if you’re going to be ordering us around, you have to get us sauced up,” Draco said. “Or we’ll frag you for sure.”
Taki grit his teeth, tried not to cry, and failed miserably.
A week later, Tirefire the Lesser was back in the same dank, smelly room they had started in. Freshly washed tubers rolled from a chute into a large wooden tub, and the door periodically opened to let the scullion through to pick up the remnants. Torches flickered dimly overhead.
Taki panted to lessen the heat scorching his palate. What he had just tried to eat tasted and smelled unlike any other
food in the world to his knowledge, and it was damnably good. The others seemed to agree, since now they all violated an earlier pact to never eat potatoes again.
“Emreis, how the hell did you think of doing this?” Taki asked as he went for another deep-fried sliver of potato.
“Well, you know, there was this hearth and potholder that we never actually used all this time, so I figured we’d start a fire for warmth,” Draco said as he dusted some salt on his portion. “And since it wasn’t a problem to get some old oil and a pot, I reasoned I’d try to fry up some meat for a snack.”
“Yeah, except the cooks are stingy bastards and wouldn’t even give us bones,” Hadassah said.
“Right, so potatoes,” Draco concluded. “And this actually makes them bearable!”
“Except for the whole one you tried to dunk,” Karma said as he used a wire sieve to fish out a handful of the sticks from the bubbling oil in the pot. He dumped the golden bounty into a metal bowl and passed it to Lotte, who greedily stuffed a pair of fat wedges in her mouth.
“It was still good, but cutting them up makes each bite taste richer,” Lotte said, licking grease from her fingers.
“I have to give Emreis credit, then. But why in the name of God are we still peeling?” Karma asked.
“Remember what you said, smartass? About how changes don’t happen overnight even with new masters?” Hadassah retorted.
“I know what I said, but this is just ridiculous. I mean, Niketas Palaiologos is dead. He’s the only one who got offended by the whole ‘Tirefire the Lesser’ thing, right? Why does my mother give a shit?”
“If Niketas actually knew about it we’d all have hanged a long time ago,” Taki said. “It was the triada who issued the sentence, and the alternative was being flogged. Like, every day.”
“So tell them to lay off with the punishment detail, Cornet Natalis!” Hadassah said, flicking a potato skin at him.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still a lowly scrub in a unit of ill repute.”
“Then make the exarch intervene, jeez!”
“That would be even more impossible,” Karma sighed.
“Gillette, if your mother is the basileus, doesn’t that make you some sort of…I dunno, crown prince or whatever?” Draco asked.
“I wish. No, the pruny hag is a stickler for the rules. I’m property of the Cloud Temple like the rest of you, and don’t inherit any titles or holdings.”
“Then we need to get rid of your powers so you can stop being a creepy wizard and become a respectable man. I heard a circumcision does the trick,” Hadassah said. A clump of potato skins hit her on the face. “Look, aren’t we under Imperial rule, anyway? Doesn’t the basileus have to follow the padishah’s orders now? Just write to the guy!” she groaned, wiping starch from her hair.
“It’s not that simple,” Lotte chimed. “Aside from letting the Imperial army travel freely and allowing their educational corps to set up, Dominion law still prevails, and the basileus is still the supreme authority of the land. That means we still follow the Triada’s rules. And their punishments.”
“So basically nothing’s really changed. Figures,” Draco lamented. “At least we don’t have to fight those godrotting Alfa again.”
“Oh, now that you don’t have to kill each other on sight, the Prince of Maladies is totally available!” Hadassah said. “If you want, I’ll totally take her shopping and see if she likes you back. I’ll totally talk up your few good points. Maybe.”
“Isn’t that a bit sexist to assume she likes shopping?” Karma asked.
“Every psychotic killer bitch I know enjoys shopping, you peon.”
“Anyhow, there’s no way we’ll see them again,” Draco said. “They’re probably already storming Astarte by now. The holy primate’s got an ass-kicking in his future, that’s for sure. We were just a little stumbling block on their true campaign. Just as I told you before, Natalis.”
“I still can’t help but feel like this is against the rules, somehow,” Taki said, tilting his head at the bubbling pot.
“You’re one to talk, Cornet ‘I helped depose the basileus,’” Hadassah said.
Taki disregarded her quip and watched the flames dance along the bottom of the cookpot. “Actually, do we even know where the chimney goes?”
The door burst open with an accompaniment of screaming curses and orders to get on their knees. Taki had barely turned his head to face the threat when a buttstock punched into his gut and he fell back. No less than five men barged into the room, muskets and swords at the ready. Lotte’s eyes widened when she saw what they wore.
“We’re unarmed!” she shouted. She raised her hands and lowered herself to her knees. “Squad, do not resist!” she continued. A knife edge pressed against her throat and a pair of groping hands tore her dagger away from her belt. There was no mistaking who the intruders were: Black Cross.
Hadassah suddenly tackled Karma from behind while he raised his hands. A heartbeat later, one of the men fired and blew a hole in the wall where Karma’s head would have been. Stone crumbs dusted their bodies. “Cease fire, dammit!” she cursed as they pointed their guns at her head.
“By order of the exarch you all are under arrest!” a lieutenant bellowed. He leveled his sidesword at Draco, who had been about to eat another piece of potato. Draco grinned nervously and dropped the fry.
“What are we being charged with?” Lotte demanded.
“Treason and sabotage.”
Taki swallowed to fight the hollow feeling in his chest. He had already accepted that Amilia Gillette, the Usurper, would eliminate him one day. If there was one crime that could never be forgiven, it was regicide. He deserved to die for his role in ending the Palaiologoi. Taki smiled sadly to himself and shook his head. He felt no regret, and better yet he had no family to disgrace. He had long-ago given up his future, and now it was time to yield the rest.
“The others are innocent, I am the one you’re aft—” he started to say.
“Sir! Here’s the source of the miasma!” One of the Black Cross swung the frying pot away on its hinge and pointed to the fire.
“Well put it out, then!” the lieutenant growled. One of the Black Cross came in from the kitchen with a bucket of water and sloshed it over the fire. While the flames died, their hissing embers only filled the storeroom with more smoke. “And take those damned potatoes as evidence!”
“How did we commit treason and sabotage? This is a kitchen! We’re just cooking!” Lotte snarled.
“Captain, lies won’t save you this time.” The lieutenant sniffed. “You were clearly driven mad with resentment and constructed this chimney flue to vent directly into the quarters of the agia triada while they recovered from battle. Only by the grace of God and the sharp senses of the exarch did they avoid succumbing to smoke poisoning.”
Lotte’s lips parted slightly and she stared at him. She quivered, her face painted with disbelief. She hung her head, but a moment later, started to laugh so hard that she toppled to the floor. The lieutenant scowled as she beat the stones with her fists and convulsed in merriment.
“Take them all to the brig. We’ll hang them in the morning after a sound flogging.”
“That’s bullshit!” Draco cried. “Why the hell does this chimney go directly to the supreme commanders of the Temple? How would we even know that? Who the fuck designed this idiotic place?” A baton crashed between his shoulder blades and knocked him to the floor. Hadassah yelped as they dragged her away by her hair. Karma tried to push his way over to her but was answered by a buttstock to the groin. He fell back, groaning loudly
“Stop! I’m the one you want!” Taki shouted tearfully. “I know you’re here on the orders of the basileus! Just shoot me and be done with it, but don’t hurt my friends!”
“Why does the Usurper care about you?” one of the Black Cross said as he mashed Taki’s wrists together.
From the kitchen came a deep thump and the unmistakable ozone of electrical discharge. Men�
��s shouts and gunshots erupted only to yield to oppressive silence. The lieutenant whirled around and thrust his sidesword at a figure standing in the door. Metal twanged in protest at a sudden stop, caught between thumb and forefinger belonging to Hecaton Mezeta. She sneered at the lieutenant and then tilted her head at the door. He let go of the sword and bolted out, followed by his subordinates.
“I heard you lot were making fries. Where’s my share?” Hecaton asked. She lit a cigarillo and squatted with her elbows balanced on her knees. Lotte raised her forehead from the cobbles and looked blearily at her major.
“We didn’t invite you. But you can have mine,” she said with a half-smile.
Taki sniffed and blinked away tears of relief. He knew it was wrong to feel grateful to Hecaton, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“As long as they’re still warm. I won’t abide cold leftovers. Now, I don’t know what happened here, but the triada are all a pube-hair away from croaking and Constantin is furious. I’ve never seen him so pissed. It’s great!” Hecaton cackled. “And to think I was growing bored of this place. Well, maybe I’ll stick around for a bit longer.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Lotte said.
Hecaton grinned. “Silly barbarian, you’ll rue those words one day. My old bones feel another storm coming soon, and it is all our joss to be swept up again and tossed about. Frankly, I don’t think any of you will survive, though you’re welcome to try.”
Taki remained silent. By now, he knew that the old woman’s words carried a weight beyond that of idle, derogatory banter. Upheavals and crises loomed in his future. And yet he’d already endured the worst of what fate—joss, as Hecaton put it—had to throw at him, even if he hadn’t exactly triumphed over much. In the scarred and spiteful world he lived in, perhaps survival was good enough.