His Dark Empire (Tears of Blood)

by Forbes, M. R.

  Edgar laughed and clapped his hands twice. The rest of the assembled performers lined up behind him.

  "You already know Bryant, and Alain," he said, sweeping his hand towards them. They bowed in response. Next, he pointed to the two women, both with long black hair and thick, curvy bodies. "That is Canae, and her sister Lanae." The two women curtsied. He motioned to a man who was taller and thinner than Silas. "That's Winslow." He waved at a handsome man with shoulder length blonde hair and a sharp nose. "Galvan."

  "And I'm Morie," the last one said, stepping forward from behind Galvan. He was the shortest person Eryn had ever seen, standing no higher than her waist. "Every theater needs a dwarf."

  "A pleasure to meet you all," Eryn said.

  "Edgar," Silas said. "It isn't safe for us to be here. It's only a matter of time before the soldiers figure out that we tricked them. The Overlord will stop at nothing to catch me, once he knows I'm in the city."

  "This is a theater, Silas," Edgar said. "There is no better place in Elling to hide, and there are no better people to hide with." He leaned in close and whispered. "If you don't mind my asking, why exactly does the Overlord fear you so?"

  Silas shrugged. "I wish I knew. I've come to Elling to find out."

  "Well, a friend of Robar Quall is a friend of ours, and an enemy of the Overlord is a best friend of ours. Talk to Canae or Lanae when you need to go out into the street. They are experts with makeup and wigs. Nobody will know that it's you. For now, please, make yourselves at home. Alain was just downstairs preparing dinner before you arrived, so there will be stew soon."

  Edgar bowed to both of them, and took his leave, wandering off to check on the water that was now dripping in through the ceiling. Eryn could see why their beds were arranged in such a random order. It wasn't for space, it was to avoid the leaks.

  "Is kind of out of rain," Bryant said with a laugh. "I get some straw from downstairs, make you at home. Rain is good timing, it help you avoid drips."

  Silas came over to her, his face serious.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "I don't like the idea of putting these people at risk. The Overlord will know I'm here by the end of the day, and he'll empty the barracks to find me."

  "Edgar sounded confident that they could hide you," she said. "I think this is a blessing from Amman, Silas. We had no plan for where we would stay once we were in the city. At least this way we have people willing to help us hide, or give us a disguise. It's their choice. They know the risk."

  Silas gave her a warm smile. "I can't say I'm not fond of the idea of a nice hot bowl of stew."

  Bryant returned from the basement a few minutes later, cradling bales of straw in both of his large arms. He found some open space against the wall, where there was a large enough dry spot, and dropped the bales. He worked fast, molding the straw into two sleeping areas.

  "You can keep things here," he said, once he was done. "No one will take."

  Eryn was certain that was true. They were all in this together, and they were willing to put themselves at risk for the two of them. It wasn't the family she had expected to have, but she appreciated them all the same.

  ***

  The soldiers arrived the next morning, led by a man who called himself Constable Latten. He was a handsome man with a muscular physique, short red hair and a strong jaw. He carried himself with confidence and purpose, and it was obvious from the moment Alain opened the door to the theater to let them in, he was looking for any reason at all to burn the place down.

  "My Lord, we haven't seen them," Edgar insisted. "We would know if we had, with all the rain last night."

  They were standing in the ballroom. Edgar, Alain, Bryant, Constable Latten, and six of his soldiers. Eryn could see them through the smoke from their hiding spot in the fireplace, a secret small alcove that kept them invisible through a lit fire. She had thought Edgar was crazy when he had told them to hide back there, but now she believed he was brilliant.

  "My men reported that they followed Silas and a Mediator through the streets of Elling, to this block of buildings. They came upon a lone charger returning from the street two blocks from this one, and we are now quite sure that the Mediator they saw was no Mediator at all. Your sympathies for fugitives, rebels, and scum is well known. In fact, the Overlord shut down your so-called theater for your subversive content. The only reason you and your troop haven't been shipped off to the ore mines is because you are the brother of Lord Tilling. Yet, you expect me to believe that you don't have Morningstar and the Cursed hiding here?"

  She was impressed with Edgar. He didn't react to hearing she was Cursed, even though they had never mentioned it to him.

  "My Lord," he said. "I have rejected the accusations made against me regarding the nature of my plays time and again. What the Overlord holds as his opinion is only that. I am a loyal citizen of his empire today, tomorrow, and always. Now, you are free to examine every square inch of what is left of this once fine establishment as you desire. I assure you that you won't find any trace of the fugitives."

  Constable Latten turned to his men. "You two, upstairs. You two, downstairs. You two, with me."

  The soldiers split up. Eryn watched the two pairs approach, holding her breath and praying that they wouldn't be able to see them once they got close. They passed right by, headed in opposite directions on the stairs.

  "Search their things," Latten commanded his men, pointing at Bryant's bed and personal effects.

  The two soldiers went over and began tearing apart the straw, throwing it everywhere while Bryant looked on, his face a mask, hiding the anger that Eryn could see behind his eyes. He had a small barrel where he kept his clothing and personal treasures, and they turned it over and threw all of those things everywhere as well.

  "My Lord, is this necessary?" Edgar asked, following behind Latten.

  The Constable turned and smiled. "No," he said. "I don't expect to find them, or any hint of them. To be honest, I'm not convinced that they are here."

  "As I said."

  Latten held up his hand. "Even if they are not. I am convinced you know where they are, and that you helped them find somewhere else to hide."

  Edgar maintained his composure. The soldiers moved on to Winslow's bed. Eryn heard crashing now from downstairs too, and Winslow complaining at the mess those soldiers were making.

  "My Lord-"

  Latten raised his hand again. "Edgar, enough. You have some protection from your brother, but it will only extend so far, for so long, especially where Morningstar is concerned."

  Edgar remained silent after that, while the soldiers ransacked the troupe's meager possessions. Eryn felt guilty for putting them in that position, and she knew Silas did too.

  They waited for an hour after Latten and the soldiers had left, to receive the signal from the spotters across the city. It had been an interesting conversation that Silas had held with Edgar, about how they had known where he was, and when he was there. There was an entire network of people living in Elling who did their best to interfere with his soldiers at any available opportunity. Many spent their days crouched on the rooftops, tracking the movements of the soldiers and sending signals to one another by reflecting light when the sun was out, or lighting candles when it wasn't.

  "I'm sorry," Eryn said to Edgar, once they had come out from behind the fireplace.

  Edgar smiled. "It is of little concern. Even if you had never come here, the result would have been the same. We certainly couldn't prevent you from entering the city, and wouldn't ask you to leave."

  "The Constable said your brother was the Lord of Tilling? Where is that?"

  "If you take a boat from Elling, north across the lake and up the river to the sea, that is where you will find Tilling. It is a beautiful place, and the sight of the ocean is one I miss nearly every day."

  Eryn was confused. "So why are you here?"

  "That is a long story, my dear. Suffice it to say, my brother prefers me alive, but at
a distance."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Eryn

  "Hold still for one more second, dear," Canae said, taking a horse hair brush and using it to spread some moist goop around Eryn's hairline. She then pulled a little bit harder on the wig of blonde hair she had spent the last three weeks sewing, and pushed it against the goop. "Now, you'll need to keep this dry, or the glue will soften up and the wig will fall off. We don't want that to happen, do we?"

  "No," Eryn said. 'We definitely do not want that to happen."

  Almost a two months had passed since they had arrived in Elling, and taken up residence with the Tilling Theater Troupe.

  The first week had been a tense time for all of them, with Letten and his men coming by every day to ransack the place and search for Silas. When they hadn't turned him up, he had sworn to Edgar that he would find him, and when he did he would know if Edgar had been involved or not. In a fit of angry frustration, he had promised that when that time came, he would finish the job the first fire had started, and he would make sure the doors were barred closed with all of them inside.

  By the third week, Letten only came two or three times. They knew to expect him by now, and had gone as far as to keep their belongings in a state of disarray, so the soldiers had little to do but walk in and walk out.

  This week, he hadn't come at all.

  Eryn had enjoyed the time more than she had believed she could, and she found joy in the company provided by the troupe. They lived on the meager earnings they could gather doing impromptu performances, tricks, or jokes in the busier, wealthier streets of the city center, and shared everything they had with one another, without question. It was this openness, honesty, and togetherness that had helped her feel so at home. The troupe was like her village, but on an even smaller scale.

  Her family had never been forgotten, and in quieter times she felt guilty for enjoying herself as much as she did with her new family. She still cried for their loss from time to time, but she always kept her mother's words in her mind. Survive.

  She did worry about Silas though. He had been unhappy when Edgar suggested they remain in the theater until Letten had stopped making appearances. He was eager to find the Overlord, to see his face in hopes that he would remember more of his past. The Overlord's letter had suggested that time would help him regain himself, and while he had reclaimed some of who he once was, it hadn't improved his memory. It had improved his skill with a sword, if that could be believed.

  Stuck inside, Eryn had been at Silas' disposal, and he took on the role of her teacher with total purpose. Not that she would ever complain, despite the soreness in her arms and legs by the end of the day, or the seeming pointlessness of some of the exercises he forced her through. Looking back these weeks later, her body was stronger than it had ever been, as was her mind.

  In the beginning, he would teach her for four hours every day, and she would be so exhausted she would fall onto her straw and sleep for the next four. Now, she would continue practicing on her own after their lesson, going through the moves he had taught her again and again until he would glance over and tell her it was perfect.

  "My brother was in his army," Galvan had told her once, when she was sitting on her bed watching Silas strengthening his body through a series of strange stretches and poses. "I don't know what he's doing, or where he learned to fight, but it wasn't from being a soldier."

  Eryn had found the statement peculiar, and she had asked Silas about it later. He had been as confused as she was, telling her he was simply doing what his mind and body was telling him it wanted to do. All of the techniques were in his muscles already, he had said. He was just reintroducing them after a long hibernation.

  The weeks had given her time to practice calling on her Curse as well. She only did so when she could sneak away to the burned out upper floor of the theater, which she had discovered held half a roof collapsed at the north end, the splinters of which mingled with stacked benches that we mostly turned into black, charred logs of wood, and at the bottom a large stage. It was the stage that had survived the worst of the damage. It was still partially covered by the roof, and it stayed somewhat dry in the rain, so that was where she would stand.

  She would close her eyes and focus on her breathing. She discovered that the power from her Curse always came easiest if she brought herself back to her father's forge, and concentrated on the rhythm and the sound of the bellows stoking the fires. She would feel the tingle between her ears, and if she concentrated well enough she found she could direct it throughout her body. The question she had been increasingly asking herself was, now what?

  It was one thing to draw in the power and activate it. Once she held it, she didn't know what to do with it. She was afraid to bring the blue stone to the stage with her, for fear she would burn down the theater, or attract unwanted attention.

  She had tried a few times to slow down time, or speed herself up, or whatever it was Silas had told her she had done, but all she had ever accomplished was to make herself vomit. She could do small things pretty well, like unlock doors, or create a small force of air, or enlarge the strength of an existing fire in the fireplace. They were nice tricks, but she knew they would never be enough to help her confront him. She had managed to do incredible things when her emotions ran high, but she had no memory of it, and she had no ability to intentionally create the same effect.

  There was something else. Something that scared her more than she wanted to admit. Using too much power had caused her to pass out in the past. Practicing too much with it in a single day gave her a massive headache, and there was one time she could have sworn she had seen a grey scale on the back of her arm. She had blinked, and it had been gone, but it had reminded her of Malik and his journal. She hadn't tried to use the Curse for days after.

  "I wonder if Lanae is finished with Silas yet," Canae said. She reached over to the dressing table in front of them and picked up a hand mirror, holding it so Eryn could see herself.

  If she hadn't known it was her, she wouldn't have known it was her. Her hair had reached a boyish length, but it was still too obvious to be seen on a girl. Her face had thinned a little from the hard exercise and light meals the troupe shared, but she thought it looked more adult, especially with the long blonde hair Canae had just finished gluing to her. A few well-placed bits of putty widened her nose and lengthened her chin, and thick makeup put it all together seamlessly. She didn't think she looked like an attractive woman, but she did think she looked like a woman, not a girl.

  "You are amazing," she said to Canae.

  "Thank you, dear. Remember, don't get it wet."

  Eryn pushed herself out of the chair. There was one main wardrobe area underneath the theater, with separate dressing rooms for the men and the women. It was filled with all kinds of clothes, as well as any small prop that could be imagined; from a dull longsword to a heavy metal throne. A pair of staircases twisted around a wooden pole on either end of the space, leading directly up to the stage above.

  Eryn went over to the men's dressing room and knocked on the door. "Silas, are you ready?"

  "He'll be right there," Lanae said. "I'm just finishing his nose."

  Eryn smiled and walked over to the wardrobe mirror to look at herself in full. Canae had put her in a simple, long-sleeved green dress that fell to her knees, and a pair of not-very-comfortable matching green slippers. She had also forced her to wear a special undergarment she had devised, mounted with a lot of extra padding around the chest. Eryn put her hands up to it and shifted it, trying to get it into position to look somewhat natural. It felt weird to her to have such a large protrusion there.

  "Don't worry," Silas said from behind her. How had he opened the door so quietly? "If anyone comes at you with a knife, you can use those to defend yourself."

  Eryn felt her face turn red, and she turned around to playfully scold him. "Silas?" She couldn't believe it was him.

  He spread his arms wide. "How do I look?" he asked.<
br />
  Lanae had dyed his hair to a soft brown, and tied it behind his head in a ponytail. She had made his nose wider to match Eryn's, and put makeup all over his face to hide the weather lines and wrinkles. She had dressed him a white cotton shirt with a rich brown leather jerkin over it, and finished it off with loose black leather pants that tucked into tall black boots.

  "You look like you could be my father, instead of my grandfather," she replied, laughing in amazement at the sight of him. "I'd never know it was you."

  "I do have to stay out of the rain," he said. "It will wash the makeup and the dye out."

  "The putty will fall off too," Lanae said. "That goes for sweating as well, so try to stay out of trouble."

  "Trouble?" Silas asked. "Me?"

  Lanae started laughing, and she slapped him on the shoulder. The sisters had taken a strong liking to Silas, both for having risked his life to help Robar and Sena, and for his continued devotion to his lost love. He had told Eryn more than once how those were the memories that he missed more than any of the others.

  "Are we ready to go then, Eryn?" he asked.

  She nodded. Today was the first day Edgar hadn't told them they should remain inside, and they were both eager to move ahead with their plans. They would be going to the Elling library first, so that Eryn could begin learning of the history of the Empire, and after that they would seek out the Overlord. Alain had told them there was a public hanging scheduled for this evening; a soldier who had tried to abandon his army.

  They climbed the stairs up to the ballroom, where Edgar and Bryant were working to patch some of the leaks in the ceiling. Eryn had given them most of the coin she had in her purse, both to repay them for their hospitality, and in the spirit of their troupe's communal arrangement. Edgar had resisted until the end, but she had found an ally in Morie, who had taken her coin one by one and snuck it into the pool. Of all the entertainers, the dwarf was her favorite. He had a quick wit, and a playful humor that reminded her of Roddin.