In Service of the Pharaoh (League of Losers Book #2)

by Michael Atamanov

  Chimeric Megasaurus. Level 2 Male.

  Chimeric Megasaurus. Level 3 Female.

  “They hatched last night,” Diogenes said in annoyance as he toiled over a table covered in unfurled scrolls, his epic work to preserve the knowledge of human civilization. “All they want to do is eat. It really gets in the way of my work. As if a constantly crying baby and a screeching invisible kitten weren’t enough, now these dinosaurs keep pilfering my scrolls and eating them.”

  Normally, the Philosopher was cheerful and full of energy, but now I noticed he looked tired, despondent. I got the impression he hadn’t slept at all last night.

  “That’s right,” Varya confirmed my observation. “He hasn’t stopped writing his funny formulas since you all got back from Hundred Skull City. He didn’t want to break for lunch.”

  That made sense. There was a reason for our acquaintance’s gloom, and I didn’t judge him in the least. How must it feel to lose all your lives but one in a world so full of danger? Finishing this work of his, so important to humankind — that was all that mattered to the Philosopher now. And anything that distracted him from it annoyed the hell out of him.

  “Wait, weren’t there three eggs? Did one not hatch?” I asked, deciding to change the subject.

  There was no answer. They just exchanged suspiciously guilty glances.

  “Well? Tell him!” Diogenes snapped. Varya blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor.

  “It’s… my fault. I thought Irosaurus Regina would take the calves and care for them. But she…” the girl sniffled, “she attacked and ate her calf! I barely managed to save the other two from her. Why would she do that, Sergeant? She’s their mother!”

  I shrugged uncertainly. Back on Earth, I knew that reptiles would eat the eggs and young of other reptiles at the slightest opportunity. Maybe when we moved the eggs from the nest and took them somewhere else, the female megasaurus stopped seeing them as her own? Who knew… But I did know a way to keep the young ones safe from their now dangerous mother — tame them fast, so they’d be marked as allies for Irosaurus!

  “Next time the dinos want to eat, let me feed them. In the meantime, you take care of Hope and the cougar’s kitten,” I said, handing the girl the bottle of milk.

  Edward Samarsky stuck his head round the door of the structure. “You’re wanted, Sergeant.”

  To say I was surprised is an understatement. Few in the New Pharaohs knew me. Who could be wanting to see me now? At first, I assumed it would be some runner from the Pharaoh or his Courtesan to tell me it was midday and ask why I still hadn’t set off for the minotaur. But our visitor waiting on the bank turned out to be far more interesting — it was the long-eared sherkh Huntress by the name of Anita Ur Vaye. The same one that brought us little Hope wrapped up in a blanket.

  The sherkh girl had revealed herself in human territory? That could go badly… I shot a glance over the nearby hills covered in thick bushes. I couldn’t see any watchers from the Pharaoh, but I had no doubt that there were attentive eyes on the bank. My contact with a member of a ‘competing race’ would not go unnoticed. The leaders of the New Pharaohs would no doubt hear of it today. There’d be trouble. All the same, I walked toward the white-haired Huntress.

  “Greetings, Sergeant! May your days be full of joy!” the light-haired girl bowed low as I approached, which was very strange. The sherkhs had never shown such deference to humans before. “I am sent by Avelia Un Ponar, new leader of Eastern Garrison. She asked me to return something that belongs to you.”

  Anita stretched out a hand and offered me the Fiery Manticore Signet Ring. Wow… That meant the Swordmaiden had been declared the winner in her wager with her brother. And the almighty vallar was right in his prediction — Avelia Un Ponar had wasted no time in overthrowing her father and taking the place of the Eastern Garrison guild leader.

  “Avelia Un Ponar asked me to relay her deepest apologies for the fact that she used the ring in a duel with the chief, and summoned the fiery keeper once. As compensation for the damaged artifact, the new chief asks you to accept me into your ‘League of Losers.’ I swear to serve you faithfully and truly, Sergeant!”

  What kind of trick was this? I exchanged surprised glances with my companions as they watched the scene unfold. Even the Philosopher had torn himself from his notes to come and see the sherkh messenger. He asked me to find out if I could refuse this… compensation.

  “I take that as a great slight, and mistrust in my capabilities,” the Huntress answered Diogenes. “As if my life and loyalty are insufficiently valuable in human eyes. But the oath is already given. There is no way back. And in any case, Avelia Un Ponar can give no other compensation now — this morning, the Eastern Garrison left our occupied lands in its entirety and went through the energy barrier into the world outside.”

  * * *

  After that news, the Philosopher’s mood was even worse. He put aside his work for a while, had a quick bite to eat, then sat down on the bank with a cup of hot tea in hand, deep in thought. Diogenes sat silently, just watching the waves on the river, the cup in his hand forgotten. I went to ask what was on our wise man’s mind.

  He moved, freeing up space for me to sit beside him.

  “Sergeant, this is the least advantageous turn of events. Yesterday, there was still some semblance of balance between the humans and sherkhs. Despite all their sword-waving and threats of fighting, in actual fact neither the humans nor the sherkhs were particularly desperate to start this war. Now everything has changed. Some of the sherkhs are gone, and the humans will soon consider themselves to be the stronger side. Now war between the two sentient races is inevitable, and even the immortal players of the Great Game cannot predict its outcome with certainty. I have no idea who will win either. But I do know perfectly well that this war will hit our group hard.”

  I didn’t quite get it. What did we have to do with it all? We were a neutral party. In fact, we did all we could to distance ourselves from interracial conflicts. But Diogenes just shook his head at my objections.

  “Sergeant, there’s no sitting on the sidelines here. The sherkh guilds remaining in the sandbox will no doubt soon declare Avelia Un Ponar a traitor, if they haven’t already. And they don’t have to look far to find the one who lured a daughter of their people off the true path. A human by the name of Sergeant. Who else?! You’re the only human Avelia spoke to. In the eyes of the sherkhs, that makes you an enemy. They’ll never forgive you for the departure of Eastern Garrison.”

  I frowned, lowered my head. Damn! He was right. That’s just how it would go… But Diogenes wasn’t even done yet. The brewing war had still more to threaten our group with.

  “To the Pharaoh’s people, you’re an outsider. You’re not from their clan, and you’re independent and defiant. To them, you’ll always be suspicious, one who consorts with enemies of humanity. After the first loss in the war, and there will be losses in a war of this scale, the Pharaoh will look for people to blame for painful defeats. And you, Sergeant, will make a fine scapegoat for the New Pharaohs. Imagine! You walk unhampered through human lands, clearly gathering intelligence. And you have a member of the ‘competing race’ with you, through whom you surely pass information. That’s enough to put a reward on your head. In the end, both the humans and sherkhs will pursue you, Beast Catcher, bearer of misfortune, and the rest of us too. They’ll kill us at every opportunity.” No matter how many lives you have, they’ll soon run out. One way or the other, they’ll kill us all. We have to leave, Sergeant. Preferably right now. Tomorrow may already be too late.”

  I sat down, struck dumb by Diogenes’ words and the future he laid out. It was a bleak prediction, no doubt. On the whole, I agreed with the Philosopher. We needed to go beyond the forcefield and get far away from this brewing war. But how? Diogenes was only at level nineteen. My sister had reached level twenty-two. I was at twenty-three. Edward Samarsky was way down at seventeen. We needed at least two or three more days, if not more, for the
whole group to reach level twenty-five.

  And that was without considering little Hope, still a level-zero baby. When did children start leveling up in this world? I had no idea. And how could we leave without Whiskers? First we had to find my missing cat. I said as much to the Philosopher, and he sighed heavily.

  “The kitten will turn up. He’s smart. Suspiciously smart, even. All our group members will level up soon. As for little Hope… She’s really our only problem. Everything else is solvable. Ask the long-eared girl how the sherkhs managed to take their children into the wider world,” Diogenes suggested, nodding toward the Huntress as she spoke casually to the veyer. “I doubt they abandoned their children. That means there must be a way.”

  Diogenes looked at the cup of cold coffee still in his hand. He drank it down in one gulp, then stood, signaling the end of our conversation.

  “I have to get back to work, Sergeant. I would go to the market with you, but I have no time. There’s too much to do. On the bright side, you and your children will thank me for the knowledge my scrolls bring you.”

  I didn’t delay the man any further. I knew how important Diogenes’ work was. And I really had become interested in the question — how had the sherkhs gotten around the level limitation to get their children through the forcefield? I called Anita over, asked her to tell me more about what had happened last night in Eastern Garrison, and how the change of power unfolded in the guild. The young Huntress willingly told me.

  According to her, Avelia and Arvedo went to see their father at the same time. The argument between brother and sister was bitter, overstepping all bounds of decorum and descending into a swearing match that turned physical more than once. Worst enemies don’t argue as hard as brother and sister. It was clear to all assembled that whichever sibling won, the loser would have no place in the guild.

  It wasn’t easy to judge them. On the one hand, Avelia demonstrated a more valuable prize for completing the trials of Hundred Skull City. On the other, Arvedo accused his sister of cheating the challenges, violating the traditions of the sherkhs and displaying unworthy behavior. The guild leader, level 78 Shadow Master Al’tair Un Ponar, listened to his children, but refused to resolve their dispute. This angered the daughter, who considered herself the winner, having fulfilled all the conditions set by her father. The representative of the Grand Emperor of the Sherkhs adjudicated the dispute, declaring Avelia Un Ponar the winner.

  As the guild leader promised, the Swordmaiden became general of the Eastern Garrison army. Five hundred combat-class players in Eastern Garrison swore to carry out their new commander’s orders unflinchingly, and for the sherkhs, such oaths were sacred and unbreakable. Immediately after her appointment, the newly-minted commander of the guild’s army challenged her father to a duel, accusing the chief of violating traditions, of being weak-willed, of favoritism toward his son.

  It was decided that the battle should take place immediately, before the eyes of the whole guild. Guards were placed around the arena perimeter. The priests called the gods of the new world as witness and declared that none could dispute the duel’s outcome. The guild’s mages cast a wall of fire around the square, so that none could enter the arena or leave it. The representative of the sherkhs’ Grand Emperor declared that she would personally watch to ensure that the duel was fair, in full accordance with the rules. No poisoned weapons. No crossbows, although throwing knives were allowed. The duel participants were forbidden from using stealth. All other moves and magics were allowed. The battle would be to the death, and the loser would be forced to leave Eastern Garrison after resurrection.

  The high priest signaled the start of the fight. The Shadow Master was twenty-five levels above the Swordmaiden, and he immediately rained a hail of strikes down on his daughter, pouring all his strongest skills into the assault. Al’tair Un Ponar managed to wound his daughter several times, but at the most critical moment, Avelia used her Sphere of Invulnerability artifact, making the Shadow Master’s most powerful strikes useless. Then she moved to attack. The battle was long, and both were hurt many times. Healing elixirs and potions to recover strength came into play, as did throwing knives, blinding dust and artifacts carefully saved by each opponent for a rainy day. Firestorm, Mist, Fan of Blades, Shield of Creators, Call of the Cruel Arachnoscorp… In response to her father summoning an arachnoscorp, Avelia summoned the fiery manticore. And her monster turned out to be far stronger and more mobile. It quickly tore apart the chief’s clumsy insect.

  After that, the Shadow Master reeled and disappeared into stealth, although that was forbidden by the rules of the duel. He couldn’t leave the arena due to the ring of magical fire, but he could use his stealth to heal or attack his opponent from behind. But Avelia didn’t give her father the chance to recover and stab her in the back. The Fiery Manticore’s roar knocked the Shadow Master out of stealth, and then the battle ended in an undisputed victory by Avelia Un Ponar. In front of a huge gathering of sherkhs, the Grand Emperor’s representative declared Avelia Un Ponar the new leader of Eastern Garrison.

  Immediately afterwards, the new guild leader gave a fiery speech in which she ordered her subjects to pack their things and prepare for a great migration. Avelia declared that the Eastern Garrison would not participate in a senseless war with the humans for a very limited territory, and instead would go out to conquer the huge world of lands available for settling, just as other sherkh guilds had done before them.

  At first, Avelia Un Ponar’s decision caused a tense silence. It was the polar opposite of the politics of the previous guild leader, who obeyed the sherkhs’ Grand Emperor in all matters. But then there were lone cries of support, and they quickly grew into a mass celebration. The sherkh warriors and peaceful craftsmen alike were overjoyed — they would avoid war, and many of their lives would be saved. Even the Grand Emperor’s emissary, who at first tried to talk the young Swordmaiden out of it, admitted in the end that she supported the path that Avelia had chosen, and she would follow the young Swordmaiden to the ends of the Earth.

  I listened to the Huntress’s long tale, replete with gesticulations and emotional commentary. Then I asked the question that interested me most of all:

  “Wasn’t it hard for the mothers to abandon their children? After all, babies can’t go through the barrier. You saw that with little Hope!”

  Anita’s answer gave me both hope and disappointment.

  “What do you mean, Sergeant?! No sherkh woman would ever abandon her child! There is some way to get a child through the barrier. Unfortunately, to my deepest regret, I do not know the way. Avelia sent me to find a Beast Catcher by the name of Sergeant and return the ring before I saw what they did to get the children through.”

  I wanted to ask the sherkh many more questions, but we had to put our conversation on hold. Our winged sentry suddenly raised the alarm, shouting and pointing into the distance. I looked at the distant hill for a long time. A strip of dust was descending from its peak. When the dust cloud got closer, I saw a carriage hitched to two reptiles, galloping through the undergrowth toward the riverbank at full speed.

  Chapter 23 [Kitten]

  Palace of the Cat Goddess

  THE ROAD WENDED its way through the lush valley, then suddenly began to weave upward to the cliffs. It climbed the mountains in a serpentine spiral, the carriage clattering its way upward, somehow twisting itself around the tight turns on the narrow and uneven path. Then the wheels knocked across a bridge over a gorge, and we suddenly stopped. End of the line.

  I didn’t wait for the servants or guards to come and greet the arriving lady. Still in stealth, I jumped down onto the ground and immediately ran off. Some thick bushes hid me from possible watchers. Where was I? It was a small, well cared-for garden, surrounded on all sides by a tall stone wall. Paths of white sand. A bright summerhouse cloaked in ivy. A dark-haired girl in a slave’s collar tending flowers. By the path was a white plaster statue of a young woman holding a cat. A little further along was
another statue, this time a cat sitting proud as a lion. This must have been Lady Victoria’s palace, the one my prison guards spoke of. It smelled of cats, too — my nose immediately caught and identified fellow members of my species. Two — no, three cats regularly visited this inner courtyard and left plenty of scents here.

  There was the first of them. A large and well-groomed Siamese was sat on a bench, cleaning herself.

  Smoke. Cat. Female. Level 44 Birdhunter. Victoria Bastet’s pet.

  Level forty-four. She’d been in this world a while. Suddenly, the cat stopped grooming herself and started sniffing the air in alarm. A gust of wind must have brought my scent to her. She sharply turned her head toward me, twitched her ears, narrowed her eyes at the empty sand path. Trying to step soundlessly, I quietly walked around and moved further away. I had no desire to get entangled with one of Lady Victoria’s pets.

  Stealth skill increased to level thirty!

  Once I’d gotten round the threatening feline resident, I continued my investigation of the garden. Suddenly, loud shouts and angry words tore at my sensitive ears — the Courtesan was upbraiding one of her servants for being irresponsible and lazy. The Gardener had somehow upset her, done something wrong or not finished his work on time. I couldn’t tell exactly. I crept toward the noise, peered out carefully from behind a bush. The plump middle-aged man was on his knees, trying to explain himself and begging for mercy. He was on his last life, he said. He just needed a little more time, he said.

  The pleas did nothing to soften his strict mistress. Lady Victoria waved a hand and the crying servant suddenly fell silent, stood up and started walking toward the gates, his eyes glassy. The gate guard didn’t try to stop the servant as he left the palace. In fact, he hurried to move aside and let the guilty party pass. Moving like a mechanical doll, the Gardener walked onto the bridge and stepped off the side of it into empty air. A scream of despair drilled into my sensitive ears, then stopped sharply.