Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1)

by Harry Leighton

  “Ahhh. That’s who you are!” Jonas exclaimed, looking at Trimas. “I thought I recognised you but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. You’ve grown a scruffy beard and don’t dress as well as you used to, General. I once saw you at a parade in the capital, riding a white horse and wearing some ridiculous polished armour.”

  “That was a long time ago now,” Trimas said, looking at his feet.

  “Is the story true?”

  “Well, hopefully I wasn’t quite that inept in the senate, but I’m certainly a better general than I was a politician. I suppose it could have been worse, I’m still alive and I’m not in the galleys.”

  Alia pondered and asked, “Why aren’t you dead? Why didn’t they kill you?”

  She wasn’t expecting Daeholf to laugh. “Tell them, princess.”

  “As my friend is alluding to, I owe my life to my family, who are too important to just go around murdering wholesale. Or, for that matter, having me assassinated. I get to live and my mother gets to be a matriarch again and that part of the empire will tick happily along.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  Trimas smiled at Jonas. “It’s not helpful for the ego.”

  “True. So I now know who he is,” Jonas pointed at Trimas, “but there’s no proof you are who you say, though I think I believe you this time. Hmm. Show me the tattoo again.”

  Daeholf rose, took off his jacket and rolled up his left sleeve to the elbow. He smoothed out the heavily scarred skin with his right thumb and forefinger.

  Jonas stood and looked closely. “Definitely a legionary tattoo but it is hard to make out the number. Looks like a nineteen or a ten but it is hard to tell. Someone hit you with an axe?”

  “That’s another story. The Ninth were disbanded after the siege and the survivors incorporated into other legions. I ended up in the Nineteenth, though as reward for saving my commander I was promoted initially to sergeant and he took an interest in my career from then on. I had my tattoo adapted from a nine to a nineteen because I didn’t want a reminder every day of what had happened.”

  “Nineteenth also had some adventures over the years I hear, but aren’t they missing, though officially re-deployed somewhere in the south?”

  “At the moment, the less you know about that the better. But, thanks to the scarring, I can pass for having been part of the Tenth, and thanks to the knowledge of my friend here, not get caught out.”

  “So are you AWOL?”

  “Not really. Sort of. It’s complicated and as I said, best you don’t know too much about it.”

  “There a price on your head?”

  “Not that I know of. Look, officially, according to the records, I’m dead. That’s all I’m saying for now.”

  “Dead?” Alia asked suspiciously.

  “Just according to the records.”

  “So how long were you in the army?”

  “About fifteen years. Signed up at sixteen.”

  Jonas sat and thought for a moment. “That’s two of you, what about him?” he indicated Zedek with a nod.

  Zedek paused, so Daeholf said, “Logistics, met him when I…”

  Now Zedek had decided and spoke. “No need to lie anymore. We’re going to be working with these people against a mage. They need to trust us, we need to trust them. So let’s give them another bogeyman.”

  “What?” Alia asked.

  “I’m not in logistics, I’ve never been in an imperial army. But I am like my friends, an exile from a society I turned against.” Trimas felt that was giving his political errors too much credit, but you take what you can.

  “So, northern pirate?” Jonas asked.

  “I’m an elf.”

  “What?” Alia exclaimed, “but they want to kill us all!”

  “I don’t. And I’m the one here.”

  “But you don’t look like an elf.”

  “Alia, with respect, who told you what elves look like? Stories, legends, all stick thin and hideously tall monsters who want to slaughter you all, possibly even with purple skin,” he added distastefully. “Well, we’re not stick thin, and we’re hot hideously tall. In fact, your average elf looks a lot like a thin human with one key exception…”

  “The ears!”

  “Yes, and I really was captured after I left my home, and humans really did cut the tops of my ears off. Sadly, it was one of the best things that happened to me, and now I can pass easily enough through your world.”

  Jonas had been quiet, but asked in a low voice, “Why did you leave?”

  “We can fight, we all can, paranoid bastards, but I’m an academic at heart and I read, oh I read, in our archives. Elven history, as they understand it, is wrong. And if that is, then maybe you lot aren’t as bad as they understand either.”

  “And we’re not,” Alia said.

  “Some of you aren’t.”

  “Fucking hell, I’m talking to an actual elf. That’s why you’re a bit odd.”

  “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

  “Sorry, I meant…”

  “It’s alright.”

  Alia turned to Jonas, who was regarding Zedek with a look she hadn’t seen before, and when the trio of friends realised this they all tensed.

  “Sorry,” Jonas replied, realising what was happening, “just a surprise. I believe you, that’s not something you’d dare to make up. It’s something that might get you killed. Alia?”

  “I believe them.”

  “Your turn,” Trimas said.

  “Not much to add to what you already know,” Jonas said. “I’m a long-time bounty hunter and this is my apprentice. We’re after a man I used to know.”

  “Knew well?”

  “Not as well as I thought, no. And it was a long time ago.”

  “So it’s personal?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Personal for you too?” Trimas said to Alia.

  “No. Just go where he tells me, learning on the job.”

  “You’ve been after mages before, haven’t you?” Daeholf said to Jonas.

  “Twice. It was terrifying. I’m not enjoying doing it again.”

  “Tell us about it.”

  “If any of it ever becomes relevant, I will. In the meantime, I’m going to carry on trying to forget all about it.”

  “Tell us about the dreams,” Daeholf said.

  “You remember that then?”

  “You said you were going to talk to us about it.”

  “It’s not happened for a few days now.”

  Daeholf looked at him, eyebrow raised.

  “Okay. Someone died. Someone that shouldn’t have. At least some of the blame is mine. Good enough?”

  Daeholf studied him. “Good enough for now,” he said eventually.

  “Er, Daeholf mentioned the dreams,” Zedek said quietly, approaching Jonas.

  “Did he?”

  “And I’ve been thinking and this might be useful.” Zedek had pulled a chain from his shirt, and now handed a small piece of silver on a chain to Jonas.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a charm, it’s good for fending off things like bad dreams.”

  “Is it elven?”

  “Yes. I hope that’s not a…”

  “No, no, it’s very kind of you. Just a surprise, that’s all.”

  “Oh we’re full of them,” Trimas sighed.

  *****

  Marlen was feeling pleased, which wasn’t the typical reaction of a man who’d ridden through a storm all morning. He’d felt safe passing down this road because the trees on each side would surely draw the lightning. No, the hammering rain, the blowing wind and the fact he couldn’t feel most of his face anymore was irrelevant, mere physical issues he could ignore given willpower and happiness.

  Yes, happiness, because he was home. Well, not home in the sense everyone else had, which was either the place of your childhood, long abandoned by him, or the place you now built your life, because this was new. But home, because he h
ad travelled a distance since bidding farewell to the General and travelled to the site he had selected as his new, long-term base of operations. Somewhere safe, secluded, but with access to all he needed. Somewhere already guarded, already converted, work done by his loyal improved, somewhere he could put his mass production plans into effect. It was as much of a home as anything he’d felt in the last thirty years, since he and … no, best not to think of that parting. Best never to rake those coals over lest he burn his mind down.

  Marlen soon saw men and women waiting for him, and he smiled at their greetings. They had stood out here in this terrible weather to wait for him, and they certainly wouldn’t fall to a fever as a result. Then he was winding his way up with them, entering the ‘rooms’, and surveying his ‘estate’. Homely, to his eyes at least, organised to the requirements of a man who felt everything had a place, safer than anyone really knew. Excellent.

  Allowing himself a change of clothes and a hot broth which had been simmering for him all morning, Marlen relaxed, allowed his mind to stretch out among the chambers and adapt to it. Then, feeling full and warm, he began to feel restless, and knew he would have to carry out his first operation here to really initiate the place. Soon he had a surgeon’s apron on and was surveying his place of work. Plenty of raw materials, harvested by his improved from across the area, sharp tools, restraints, and a gleaming stone slab surrounded by buckets. Yes, here he could move on from improving people. All this time he’d been creating altered civilians but now, oh yes, now he could create altered soldiers. Now he would escalate this whole business.

  Marlen walked over and picked up an arm, but was disappointed to find it was weakly muscled, and the hands were worn. Whoever had owned this had been unhealthy, and while that could be fixed Marlen did wonder if the materials his people were gathering were really of the right standard. One day, one precious day, he and his team wouldn’t have to skulk in shadows and take what they could, they would select only the very best to be used and developed, one day he would be in charge, he would be free.

  Freedom, that’s what he wanted, and what he was giving people.

  Now, however, it was time to work, so he turned and called for the subject to be bought to him.

  Part 3

  Karina strolled through her garden, taking a moment to relax and admire the beauty. The rose bushes in particular were well established and had flourished under her care over the last thirty years.

  “You're looking well,” came a deep voice from behind her.

  “You're very kind Magistrate, if a little early,” Karina replied, continuing to study the flowers.

  “I can't get over how you don't seem to have gotten any older in the years I have known you. What's your secret?”

  “I found the fountain of youth.”

  “Eh?”

  “Not really. Clean living and a local spa that does an excellent mud pack,” Karina said, kneeling and examining the spots on a petal with distaste.

  “Judging by the results, I must give them a try.”

  “Somehow it doesn't strike me as your sort of scene.”

  “Perhaps not. Though maybe I should send my wife.”

  “Whilst I'm sure she'd enjoy that, I assume you didn't request this meeting to discuss beauty tips?”

  “It's about the money.”

  “Ah.” Karina stood and looked at him directly.

  “This month's payment will be late.”

  “Ah.”

  “And perhaps not the whole amount.”

  “I see.”

  “So I thought I'd better come and discuss this in person.”

  “When you asked me to acquire the item we were clear on the terms.”

  “I couldn't have foreseen the business downturn.”

  “Or perhaps that you don't always win when betting on the horses. You must know by now that whores are expensive though.”

  “What?”

  “If it wasn't for your whoring you'd probably have been able to afford to pay me. In full. If you hadn't just lost a thousand imperials on the races, that is.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I know many things. You of all people should know this by now.”

  “After all these years, you're having me watched?”

  “You owe me rather a large sum. And lenders have few friends until the debts are repaid.”

  “I need, um, the item.”

  “When you pay, Magistrate, when you pay.”

  “Perhaps we can come to some arrangement.”

  “We came to an arrangement. That I acquire the item, you pay me the agreed price.”

  “Maybe a revision of terms…?”

  “We already did that once, against my better judgement. Which is why you are paying in instalments.”

  “I may have overestimated my funds to pay.”

  Karina sighed. “I shouldn't have let you have the first deal. It's the first time in many years I've been that soft and that was only because I've known you for so long. It only encouraged you to come back and try again.”

  “Karina, please…”

  “That and I like your wife. Poor clueless girl that she is.”

  “Tell her nothing,” the magistrate said firmly.

  “Of course. Pay me what you owe me. In full. Now.”

  “I don't have that sort of money.”

  “Sell a business.”

  “I could raise the watch, have them raid your businesses, seize the item. That would cost me nothing.”

  “They wouldn't find it.”

  “Then I'll have them arrest you. Your assets would be seized and you'd be ruined.”

  Karina looked him steadily in the eyes. “Did you bring many men with you?” she said calmly.

  “I don't follow,” the magistrate said hesitantly, taking a small step back.

  “A man makes threats like that, he needs to back them up. Then and there.”

  “I, ah…”

  “Your reputation is important to you so that's the first thing that will go. Rumours will start about your activities and sympathies. They'll quickly cost you your position. Talk will start of business double dealings, theft and loss of creditors’ money. Your interests will suffer badly. Then, when you're desperate, you will be taken. At night. It won't matter where you're hiding or how many men you've surrounded yourself with. What comes next depends on how angry I am. Though they'll never find your body.”

  The Magistrate looked at her, shocked and silent.

  “I misspoke, I'm sorry,” he said eventually, stuttering his words.

  “I think we understand each other,” Karina said. “My money. By the end of the day.”

  “Of course,” the Magistrate said, backing away, eyes on her until he made it through the door.

  “That was unpleasant,” said a thin man, stepping out from behind a pillar.

  “It's been a while since I've had to give an ultimatum like that,” Karina said.

  “It has, mistress.”

  “Longer still since I've had to threaten violence. I've always considered having to go that far as a failing.”

  “Friends can be difficult.”

  “They can.”

  “Do you want me to do anything about him?”

  “Not yet. Follow him for now.”

  “What are you going to do with the item?”

  “He'll get it in due course.”

  “Do you think that's wise?”

  “A deal is a deal.”

  “Which he broke…”

  “And I will not.” Karina looked at him. “You're still here?”

  “News report in. I thought you'd want it straight away,” the thin man said, handing over a small scroll.

  Karina frowned and took the scroll, unravelling it and scanning it quickly. “Jonas has moved,” she said after a moment. Her frown deepened. “I thought he'd retired.”

  “Mostly. Just small jobs.”

  “And an apprentice, I know. I meant settled down, stopped takin
g on the big stuff. How old is this?”

  “About three months.”

  “I shouldn't have put him on a low priority watch.”

  “He's getting old, this was unexpected.”

  “Do we know where he is now?”

  “It's possible he may have been involved in that unpleasantness with Braxis over in Hightown.”

  “Possible?”

  “Reports of the hunter spoke of a big man.”

  “That's a little flimsy. But it was in the right direction. And some time ago now. Nothing more recent?”

  “I’ll look back through the reports, see if there is something I missed.”

  “No, you have a job to do. I’ll do it.”

  “As you wish, mistress, as you wish.” The thin man walked away quickly, passing through the same door the Magistrate had used.

  Karina watched him as he went. A good man, though a bit too keen on violence. Hopefully she'd rid him of the tendency eventually.

  She turned and looked at her reflection in a window. Something the Magistrate had said. She was wearing well. Too well. She was already threading her hair with a little ash to simulate grey. It might be time to move on again, though that would mean giving up her official links. Something to ponder.

  *****

  The farmer heard the cows first, letting out a curious sound that meant someone had come close to them. Curious animals, cows, literally curious.

  Putting the last of the feed into a trough, the farmer walked across the muddy paths in his farm and came to a rise which let him look down on the fields beyond. One of them had a small herd of cows, all walking over to a fence where some people were… Oh shit.

  It took a sprint before he’d made the distance down the path, and pulled himself up to his considerable height in front of the newcomers.

  One man on a horse, both older creatures, and a quantity of men each larger than the farmer. One held a book, the others had clubs.

  “Good morning,” the wizened figure said, “do you know who we are?”

  “Tax collectors.”

  A toothy smile. “Well done.”

  “But I paid all my taxes. Everything. All of it.” His panic was rising.

  “You paid some taxes. But an additional charge has been levied and we are here to collect.”