The Immortal of Degoskirke

by Michael Green

  Those eyes of hers. They see more than mine. And, yes, he moves like a ryle.

  Silius’s voice flowed and calmed the crowd. “Fair merchant, word has reached this hallowed place of an achievement most unprecedented. Whispers speak of the opium dealer, the Usurper, the so-called Voice of God. More than that, his supposed signs are everywhere.” Silius paused as people craned their necks to take in the blossom of steel, casting light, from so far above. “The Anteschismarian Order of Exegesuits has never denied the existence of this criminal, but has always been on guard to keep the people of our great city free from his failed influence. That said, it is also possible that signs have been misread. Merchant, we will take this prisoner into our custody and perform the observation, now, and on these steps.”

  The merchant bowed and gestured openly to the cage.

  A dozen Exegesuit guards handed off their weapons and approached the cart. The mercenaries ran poles through loops beneath the cage. The guards grasped these poles and hoisted the cage off the cart. They carried Andy, in his barred litter, up the steps.

  Martin cast a glance at Letty, clutched tight by her Caspian allies, short cries escaping her throat. He looked around the crowd, hoping that no one else noticed, but to Martin’s surprise, instead of suspicious glances, he was met with weeping faces.

  I thought this city was secular.

  A pair of priests held scrolls for Andy. Even from so far away, Martin saw Andy’s eyes flash silver for a moment.

  The crowd gasped.

  Silius raised his hand again. “Calm, now. Any Seer will show the same. We will now test whether he has aligned with the false-Argument.”

  Another priest produced a rod and chain connected to a compartment containing a piece of Counter. The priest cautiously approached Andy and fed the canister through the cage bars. A flash of silver and purple shocked the audience. A loud crack broke out and a few people screamed. The priest struggled to free the canister from the cage.

  A wave of grumbling and whispering broke out.

  “Friends! That test only shows that he is indeed committed. This is likely our rogue Seer from not long ago. This is an achievement, but it is not proof of Caspian, as he has never allowed himself to be captured, at least not in the long history of our city.”

  Angry and confused shouts filled the air.

  The merchant, high on his cart held out his hands to speak. “High Exegesuits! Face the boy and ask him! He will admit what no one in all the Netherscape would dare!”

  The crowd exploded, and dozens of people charged the stage, whether to attack or free Andy, Martin couldn’t tell. Fighting broke out, and cudgels rung out over flesh, but the violence did not scatter the crowd.

  Silius held out a hand and Ventalus, the mouse, called the guard officers to him. Violence drowned the proceeding until the crowd finally calmed.

  Silius walked over to the cage and asked, in his resounding voice, “Seer, are you Caspian?”

  Andy looked up. “Yes, I am!” he called.

  “Why?” Letty screamed.

  Fighting again erupted across the plaza. Martin saw Letty raise a glowing fist while Staza and Quill struggled to tear the piece of Argument away from her.

  “Clang, get them out of here, now!” Martin yelled over the din.

  Clang and his goblins leaped into action and quickly subdued Letty.

  “Blue, go with them, and keep the peace,” Martin insisted.

  “No! I must see what happens,” Blue replied, tearing at his whiskers.

  Martin looked back and saw that Letty wasn’t the only person being carried away. He looked down and realized that his feathers were mottled and changing from orange to red and yellow in places.

  He took a breath and tried to focus.

  “There!” The merchant called out, over the crowd, his voice resonant. “Caspian, delivered! The zealot is responsible for more than you know! Dear friends of mine, respectable merchants of this city, for decades each, have been systematically murdered by his hand during the time of his supposed silence. Not to contradict this austere company, but he is indeed acting as Caspian!”

  “Brave merchant, may we have your name, and the names of those he has slain?” Silius asked loudly.

  The merchant recounted a list of a dozen names, many of which were familiar with the people.

  “But, you have withheld your own name,” Silius stated. “And, it must be admitted, that Caspian has never had a taste for common murder; he kills in a louder way.”

  “Ah, straight to the point. Degoskirke, you are well served by this diplomat, he sees through to the heart. I will now make a most painful admittance, but I shall do so unreservedly, for now is indeed the time to strike through to the heart!” the merchant spoke passionately, but the audience was confused.

  Silius crossed his arms, an uncharacteristic response from the diplomat. “What is this painful admittance?” he asked.

  “Produce a vial of that torturers tincture, the mixture that is said to reveal shape,” the merchant said.

  Silius stared silently for a long while. Ventalus gave orders to his officers, who relayed them, and moments later, the merchant’s mercenaries were facing off against the Exegesuit guards.

  “What are you afraid of, Silius?” the merchant bellowed, standing straight as steel despite the encirclement.

  Silius shook his head and looked to the High Exegesuit of the Heart, who produced a vial. A guard took the vial and pushed his way through the crowd to the cart.

  “I can’t believe it,” Blue whispered into his ear. “Ziesqe is going to expose himself.”

  “What? That would be suicide!” Martin replied.

  “No, not after delivering Caspian,” Blue said.

  The crowd jabbered confusedly. A few, here and there, called out what was obvious to Blue.

  The merchant held up the vial, unstoppered it, and drank the contents.

  Many in the crowd gasped, and Martin had to rub his eyes before he would believe it. A ryle, purple skin shining and eyes glowing red, stood on the cart. The audience was silent.

  “How free is the Free City if one such as I, a patriot, must hide my flesh in its streets?”

  Silius shook his head and retorted angrily. “You do not—hide your flesh—as you put it. Your kind is all but invisible to almost everyone! You appear falsely as a matter of nature!”

  “Is it nature that bars me from the city I love?”

  Silius looked for the right words, but Ziesqe barreled over him.

  “I have done Degoskirke the greatest service. My compatriots, respected merchants all, are dead at Caspian’s hands, and I have decided to show you who has done this service! Now, facing pain of certain execution, I, with my last words, demand that you vote to repeal this ban on ryle from now to eternity! Vote now!”

  The crowd clamored in anger and confusion. People attacked the cart. The Exegesuit guards, not knowing what to do, pushed the attackers back.

  Martin felt someone nudge him sharply, though he was distracted by the disbelief on Silius’s face.

  “Brother, take this coin and shout for Caspian’s vanquisher; he has saved the city!” another ychorite said, holding out a handful of coins.

  Infuriated, Martin threw a heavy punch and knocked the ychorite into unconsciousness.

  “He has plants in the crowd,” Martin said to Clang, who was trying to keep his goblins from killing the ychorite.

  “Get the Teeth out there and subdue, by all force short of mortal violence, every one of the provocateurs,” Martin commanded.

  Clang nodded and rushed off with his goblins.

  Two hundred goblins should be able to counter this.

  Martin turned back to Ziesqe, who was staring squarely at him.

  Martin felt his heart sink.

  “What is it to be? Will this unjust embarrassment of law finally be struck down? Or will I mount the gallows a martyr?” Ziesqe called out.

  I should get inside the Secular, but I must see what ha
ppens. What is decided here will shape everything.

  Martin felt the urge to run deeper into the crowd and vanish, but he stood his ground and watched the Exegesuits with desperation. Occasionally a pained cry would ring out and he would see a pair of goblins bludgeoning a provocateur.

  The Exegesuits argued with each other and it became clear that the vote was tied.

  “The vote is stalled!” Silius announced triumphantly. “Bribery and hollow spectacles will not win today! Mind, Heart, and I stand against Feet, Hands, and Blood. The motion fails!”

  “Hold!” Ziesqe cried raising a hand to the Exegesuits. The rancor in Ziesqe’s voice was enough to silence the audience and get the attention of the guards. “Produce another flask of your tincture! Hand that flask to your diplomat!”

  Silius nearly lunged off the stage.

  “You brought this on yourself! The people have a right to know!” Ziesqe spat.

  The audience became increasingly aware of the insinuation.

  “Take it, Silius; shut his filthy mouth!” voices called out.

  Silius let his head hang as a vial was handed to him.

  Ventalus was clenching his tail and waving the guards away from their diplomat.

  “With Silius out of the way, he’ll win his vote. He will probably move to have Andy executed as quickly as possible,” Blue said.

  “What?” Martin spat, taking Blue on his palm to look at him.

  “That isn’t Caspian. Andy won’t hold up to Exegesuit questioning. For some reason, he’s playing along with Ziesqe’s plan, but eventually it will fall apart. Ziesqe must know that.”

  They paused and looked back up to Silius. He had downed the flask. Moments later, a coppery skinned, musclebound ryle stood in his place.

  The crowd grew silent.

  “Silius, you are stripped of your station!” the speaker of The Heart called out.

  Ventalus failed to keep his guards in check as they subdued Silius.

  “Don’t hurt him!” Ventalus commanded.

  “The vote!” Ziesqe cried. “Silius is guilty of high treason and his vote is forfeit!”

  No one on the stage disagreed.

  “Forgive Silius, fair people; he may have committed treason in lying about what he is, but he has served the city as well as any of the now dead merchants! Let us hope to see him back in his old position, after the ban is repealed!” Ziesqe called.

  Silius cried out in fury and struggled against the guards, his strength pulling nearly a dozen off their feet.

  There was more activity on the steps, and Andy’s cage was carried into the Secular; the audience was too distracted to notice.

  They are taking him inside. It’s my time to move.

  Blue raised a hand to Martin, sensing his eagerness. “He isn’t done.”

  Ziesqe raised a hand to Andy’s fleeing cage. He waited for a long moment as the doors closed and the cage disappeared. “Where are you carting the Usurper off to? Is he going to avoid a punishment?”

  Martin spotted another provocateur trying to bribe people nearby.

  Martin tapped the man on his shoulder and struck him across the jaw. He bent down and took the man’s bag of coins and threw them to the crowd.

  “Caspian must be executed this very day! His continued existence puts the whole city at risk! He will slip those chains and try to take the Cogito the first chance he gets!” Ziesqe called out. “Vote!”

  Martin saw a surge of new figures rushing through the crowd to the stage. The guards responded, pulling the Exegesuits away from the danger and forming lines to protect them.

  Military cries rang out across the plaza and many in the crowd panicked and ran as the guards leveled their real weapons for a fight.

  “It’s the Archatians!” a voice yelled to the crowd.

  “It must be speakers and supplicants from a dozen schools,” Blue said.

  “Cease this tyranny!” An old braid, almost drowning in Sici, cried out in a crisp voice. “The Anteschismarians may change protocol regarding foreign matters, but domestic policy is the domain of both houses!”

  “This is it!” Martin looked at Blue, who said, “I need to get on that stage!”

  Blue climbed to Martin’s shoulder and held on has he pushed his way, sometimes aggressively, through the crowd and toward the mob of Archatians who held one half of the stage.

  A pair of supplicant Greeks spotted him and moved to keep him back.

  “Listen! You must convince your masters to dispute the right to execute the boy!” Martin pleaded.

  “Must we?” one of the Greeks sneered.

  Blue shouted over the crowd, “That ryle is no local merchant! He never mentioned his name, because he is Ziesqe, ruler of Zentule, and he is commanding the force in the sewers! He is using this scheme to demoralize and divide us! He will conquer the city! If it comes to violence, the boy is our only chance to fight back!”

  “Take your faith in the Dead God and shove—”

  “Wait, he might have something,” the second Greek said, interrupting, “the ryle never said his name. It should be an easy hinge for a debate. Why would he omit something that basic, unless it were a weakness, and a fake name would be too easily seen through by the people of the city?”

  “Okay, ychorite, hold on,” the first Greek said, turning toward the group of Archatians.

  A moment later they returned with a senior Greek, whose long patrician’s robes were weighed down with Sici.

  “These lads say there is fair debate here. Do you have any proof that this ryle is leading the supposed force in the sewers?”

  “No,” Martin admitted, “just go down there, you’ll find ravagers.”

  The Greek scoffed. “No, we need something substantial, challenging his name and asserting the ryle ban as a domestic issue would be enough to call for a Quoratota.”

  The Greeks perked up at that, and even other Archatians heard the words and paid attention.

  “What’s that?” Martin asked Blue.

  “A great debate where several schools of house Archatian, and every branch of the Exegesuits decide an issue for the city.”

  That would be perfect, it would give me enough time to save Andy!

  “But we need more,” the senior Greek said.

  “This merchant, when still appearing as a human, was in the company of the initiative to restrict queen activity,” a braid said. “It passed, and now every brutox queen is required by law to spend half of the day in their walled parcel. He was with the backers, I’d swear it!”

  A few others nodded in agreement.

  “Right!” Blue yelled, his mind working at lightning speed. “He spearheaded that motion because the queens are the only thing keeping his largely brutox army from invading.”

  “Is that enough?” one of the younger Greeks asked the senior.

  “It’ll have to be. If you speak truth and we catch this before it unfolds, you two will be heroes,” the senior said to Blue and Martin.

  Martin calmed his breathing as the senior Greek barged onto the stage, howling. “What dreadful words of encroaching tyranny drop on my ears! The cloaked song of this mockingbird has made fools of you! Listen deeper and hear the low peal of a war trumpet from beyond the horizon! Convenience beyond measure and nefarious showmanship have carried you away from reason, people and potentates of Degoskirke! This creature has too keen a taste for the flagrant murder of our law! See how he cuts a swathe, from one to the next, with the grace of a practiced dancer, or indeed, the careful hewing of a headsman, happily at work on the unwary! Can even one of you tell me this creature’s name?”

  “That was the right man!” Blue yelled, his whiskers twitching with excitement. “This is exactly what Ziesqe wanted to avoid!”

  Right. Ziesqe needs to avoid a protracted debate. His moral veneer will fall apart. He’s crafty though, he still might find a way to slip through. The only problem is, none of this stops his attack.

  Martin held Blue to his face and whispered. “I�
��m going in for the surfacers. I don’t think I’ll be able to free Andy, but I’ll try. We’ll have to hope that we can figure something out before Ziesqe attacks.”

  Blue’s ears flattened. “I’ve just had an awful thought. Do you suppose the attack might only arrive in the case of failure here?”

  Martin cringed. “If so, I’ll go down as a villain, and you for helping me.”

  Blue scoffed and leaped off Martin’s hand, aiming for an open shoulder in the crowd.

  Martin ducked into the mass and felt his feathers tense as he shifted into invisibility. He hoped no one would notice in all the excitement.

  Martin weaved through the crowd. He headed towards the cathedral, avoiding the guards. He stood by a side entrance and waited for a group of guardsmen to pass through, before following. He inched past a sentry, who suddenly stood from his stool to approach one of the entering guards.

  Martin held his breath as the men exchanged worried words about the proceedings. He waited until they spoke of the prisoners.

  “We’ve got him in the reliquary. A Blood is seeing to him now.”

  What will they do with Andy if they discover he isn’t Caspian? It will ruin Ziesqe’s plan, but will it be too late by then? They will almost certainly execute the boy for wielding the Argument. The Archatians don’t have a leg to stand on in that department, and we can’t count on them anyway. They would face punishment for defending him. Even the Greeks, as keen to argue as Blue said, will not commit suicide for him.

  Martin tried to push the torrent of thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the problem at hand.

  He walked through cloisters, peeking through windows and listening to idle chatter. Most of it was about Caspian, but he needed to learn where the surfacers were being held.

  He found his way into a chapel and listened to the whispers of the many deacons and representatives of the branches. Desperate scheming and last-minute deals were being struck.

  He sneaked close to a nervous pair of whisperers.

  “The sword will be out, mind you. Ventalus will bring war before the Archatians rebel against policy. That’s the pact.”

  “The boy is the problem. The Drawn Blade is a foregone conclusion, but the people will not take kindly to the boy being executed. He’s too young and has no substantive crimes to his name—”