The Bandit (Fall of the Swords Book 2)

by Scott Michael Decker

  “Absolutely not!” Slithering Snake replied. “Take them outside and bury them, for Infinite's sake! Burning those clothes will asphyxiate us all!”

  Shrugging, the woman walked toward the cave entrance, toward Leaping Elk. As she passed, he smelled what she carried—Icy Wind's rags.

  Seeing Leaping Elk, Slithering Snake walked toward him. “Ugh! We'd have had to move the whole band if she'd put them in the fire,” he said, speaking the Southern tongue. “That was Flashing Blade, wasn't it?”

  Nodding, Leaping Elk told his lieutenant of the invitation.

  “Unite the bandits, eh? The Lord Tiger's probably the only one who can do it, Lord. Are you going?”

  “How could I refuse?” he replied. “How's Fawning Elk doing with, uh, our guest?”

  “She managed to get him out of his old clothes somehow, even his loincloth. He really put up a fight, if the sounds were any indication.”

  The two men smiled at each other, Fawning Elk already known to be unrelenting. They looked toward the alcove where she'd taken Icy Wind.

  Just then, she drew aside the curtain.

  In new robes of fine silk, the ancient man looked almost human. Leaning heavily on the staff, he limped toward the table, conversing amiably with Fawning Elk. Icy Wind looked as if he'd recovered from “the indignity.”

  The sentry appeared above the cavern exit again. “Lord Elk, another visitor, this one for the Lady Elk.”

  “You thank,” he replied, walking toward his mate. Approaching the pair, he said, “Wind Lord, good in robe look. Humble bandit Wind Lord watch forgive hope, eh?” An aroma of decay still surrounded the old man. At least my eyes no longer water, Leaping Elk thought.

  “Oh, not to worry, Lord Elk. A misunderstanding, eh?” Icy Wind replied, his voice gravelly.

  Already accustomed to the hoarse, harsh croak, Leaping Elk said to his mate in the Southern tongue, “Messenger at the cave entrance, Lady.” He quickly switched to the Eastern language. “Wind Lord cup of coffee like?”

  Icy Wind glanced at Fawning Elk.

  She made her obeisance and retreated.

  Icy Wind nodded to her, then answered his host. “I'd like some coffee, Lord, yes. So kind of you to offer.”

  Leaping Elk gestured him over toward the fire. Does Icy Wind understand the Southern language? he wondered, deciding to find out. “It's a beautiful morning, Lord Wind, isn't it? Perfect for a swim, eh?” Outside, the icy wind blustered bitterly.

  “I don't understand that language, Lord, sorry,” Icy Wind replied. “Is that your native tongue?”

  “Humble bandit Wind Lord forgive. Humble bandit forgot, eh?” From the table crockery he got two mugs, then stepped to the pot of coffee near the edge of fire. The hot pot almost burned his hand as he poured them each a cup.

  “Wind Lord here long live?”

  “Er, uh, quite a while, Lord Elk. I, uh, used to live up north, but it got too cold for my old bones.” Icy Wind sipped scalding coffee with one hand and strangled the staff with the other.

  Across the cavern, Fawning Elk and a woman in travel-stained robes entered the small chamber near the entrance.

  A messenger from the Matriarch? Leaping Elk wondered. “This too far north for humble bandit be. North colder be?”

  “It's very cold, Lord Elk, cold enough to freeze a lion's balls. When do we eat? I'm starving.”

  “When Elk Lady return, Wind Lord,” he replied, his curiosity piqued. 'A lion's balls'? the Southern bandit wondered. He'd heard the expression before, but not for over thirty years, not since the Northern Empire fell. Leaping Elk checked his mindshields to insure he didn't accidentally leak the idea. Knowing a few Northern words, he included one in his speech. “Wind Lord close to border live, not 'Imperial warrior' attack fear?”

  “I'm beneath their notice, like you, Lord Elk. Oh, perhaps that mangy dog Flying Arrow will scratch his itches someday. When he does, we'll all drop from his shaggy coat like the parasitic fleas we are. For now, however, we're beneath their notice.”

  He does understand the Northern tongue! the Southerner thought. Noting the invective with which Icy Wind maligned Flying Arrow, Leaping Elk guessed that Icy Wind was a Northerner. Remembering the nature of Icy Wind's staff, a talisman Lurking Hawk had probably made, Leaping Elk concluded that Icy Wind was none other than—

  “Are you ready to eat, Lord Wind?” Fawning Elk asked brightly. “So sorry about the delay. Please, have a seat here, at the place of honor.” She gestured toward the head of the table, helping him toward it.

  Infinite bless her, Leaping Elk thought, relieved. Could the staff, having circuitry more extensive than an Imperial Sword, circumvent others' shields? He didn't know that it could, but neither did he know that it couldn't.

  The top four bandits and their neighbor sat down to eat.

  On one side of Icy Wind sat Fawning Elk, on the other, Lumbering Elephant. Leaping Elk sat beside his mate, and across the table from him sat Slithering Snake. Fawning Elk had persuaded a few of the Elk Raiders to act as servants for this occasion, the band having none. They kept the coffee cups full and brought the individual courses. The large Lumbering Elephant and wizened Icy Wind exchanged guarded greetings. Fawning Elk quickly dispelled any tension remaining between them. Leaping Elk guessed she was as comfortable here as at an Imperial Ball.

  Throughout the meal, Icy Wind never let go of the staff.

  Between the small talk around the table during the meal, Leaping Elk told his mate the content of his message in the Southern tongue. When he told her the day of Scowling Tiger's conference, she almost choked on her sausage.

  “He has to change it,” she said.

  Leaping Elk watched Icy Wind to see if the old man followed their asides, not sure if he understood the Southern language. Thus far, he'd seen no sign. “Why?” he asked.

  “That's the day of the General's siege,” she replied.

  Leaping Elk spilled his coffee.

  Icy Wind coughed a mouthful of food onto his plate.

  Fawning Elk mopped up the spill. Lumbering Elephant pounded Icy Wind's back as if the man were choking, nearly knocking him out of his chair. The large levithon was grinning madly.

  With order restored a few moments later, Leaping Elk signaled to Fawning Elk that they should wait before discussing the matter further. Icy Wind surely understands the Southern tongue! the black bandit thought.

  As the final course of diced fruit arrived, the earthquake struck. Dishes on the table rattled, and few chunks of rock dislodged from the ceiling. One large chunk dropped into the fruit, splashing them all.

  Looking up through the diaphanous dust, Leaping Elk waited, wondering if these moments were his last, his heart thundering in his chest. Often a stronger temblor followed.

  Everyone but Icy Wind was wide-eyed with fear, waiting. The old man shoveled food into his mouth as if he'd never eat again.

  After a few minutes, Leaping Elk sighed, thanking the Infinite that the quake had been mild. He resumed eating, as did the others. Icy Wind hadn't stopped.

  Leaping Elk decided he liked life too much to attend the conference.

  Chapter 18

  Countless experiments have proved that the deepest of all empathy links is between twins. With identical chromosomes and nearly identical environments, twins have a psychic contact deeper than any two non-identical humans can achieve. Mothers and their children, mates of many years, siblings close in age, and even fraternal twins, cannot achieve empathy that approaches the depth, strength or endurance of the identical-twin empathy link.—One Mind, Two Bodies: Identical Twin Contact, by Copy Cat.

  * * *

  Most of the books on the west wall of the library were old. Some, centuries old. In one respect or another, all were about talismans—talent augmentation devices—and all were contraband, Spying Eagle was sure.

  Talismans: Design and Construction.

  Basic Talisman Foci.

  Long-term Talisman Usage.

  Tapping Am
bient Energy: Storage Circuits for Talismans.

  The Best and Worst of Talismans: The Imperial Swords.

  Principles of Talisman-Talent Interfacing.

  As Spying Eagle read through the titles, his awe and wonder increased. The wealth of knowledge on these shelves was enough to carve an empire from an Empire. I didn't know Guarding Bear was a bibliophile, nor that he has a taste for the illegal, Spying Eagle thought. The collection was comprehensive.

  “There you are,” said a young voice.

  Turning, Spying Eagle smiled at Healing Hand. “Have you seen all this?” He gestured at the wall.

  “Sure—I've been here before, remember?”

  Absently, Spying Eagle nodded. “Have you read any?”

  “No, those aren't very interesting. I like this wall over here.” Healing Hand stepped to the shelves along the north wall.

  “What's over there?”

  “History, mostly, a few medical texts. Here's one about the Emperors Arrow and all their Heirs, and the effects of the Swords on them. Almost a quarter of all Arrow Heirs and Emperors died because of talisman-related disorders.”

  “Doesn't surprise me. Our ancestors made them more than nine thousand years ago. Curing an Heir or Emperor of a disorder is almost impossible. A medacor can relieve the symptoms, but that's all.”

  “Stupid, eh? Why doesn't someone redesign them or something?”

  Shrugging, Spying Eagle continued to look through titles on the west wall. “What's on the south and east walls?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “A lot of political analyses, more history but less specific, some so, uh, socio…” Healing Hand gave up and sent the word.

  “Sociological. I assumed all the books were contraband.”

  “Here's one that I think we both should read,” Healing Hand said. “One Mind, Two Bodies: Identical Twin Contact.”

  “Eh? Why should we both read it?”

  Healing Hand smiled. “The Arrow Twins. I'll be their Imperial Medacor and you'll be their Sorcerer. We should know—”

  “I won't be their Sorcerer, Little Lord,” Spying Eagle interrupted. “I won't degrade myself by taking such a position. I already refused the Apprentice position.”

  “I'd be careful of making such absolute statements, Lord.”

  Both Healing Hand and Spying Eagle turned to look at the speaker.

  Her hair flowed about her shoulders like a waterfall of ice. Her skin was the color of chrysanthemums. Her eyes were the red of sky at dusk. She was beautiful.

  “Lady Snow!” Healing Hand said, running to embrace her, book in hand.

  “Infinite be with you, Little Lord,” she said happily. “Why are you here? Haven't you begun your apprenticeship yet?”

  He nodded. “The Lord Bear asked me to do something first. With all you know about the fortress, you can probably help.”

  “Ah, that's why the Lord General Bear asked me to come here. I just arrived from Bastion and haven't talked with the Lord Gaze yet. How long have you been here?”

  “Got here this morning, Lady Snow,” Healing Hand replied.

  “Well then, I won't feel like such an intruder. Would you introduce me to your adamant friend?”

  Grinning, Healing Hand introduced them.

  “I hope I can help in this endeavor, whatever it is, Lord Eagle,” Fleeting Snow said, smiling.

  “You probably can. The Lord Gaze should brief you, though. I don't know what his instructions are, or how much he'll tell you. May I ask, Lady Snow, what you meant?”

  “ 'Whatever thy will, thou shalt become what thou fear most,' ” Fleeting Snow said, quoting from the Book of the Infinite. “I've personally experienced the phenomenon, and I also know several people who've become what they most loathed. I'd like you not to fall into the same trap.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Lady Snow. That's very kind of you.”

  “Experience is a rough teacher, Lord Eagle. The Lord General mentioned you're a psychologist. What do you charge for your services?”

  Spying Eagle smiled. “Many months have passed since someone asked me that question. Since I'm the Lord General's guest, and since you'll be a valuable contribution to our efforts, I wouldn't charge, Lady Snow.”

  “That's very kind of you, Lord,” she said, and they shared a smile.

  Spying Eagle looked at the boy. Healing Hand had become absorbed in reading the text on twins, his legs curled beneath him on the floor. “Lady Snow, why didn't you ask him?”

  Chuckling, she shook her head. “That's like cutting one's fingernails with a sword, eh? I think that would've changed our friendship.”

  Spying Eagle nodded. “I've often referred friends to other psychologists for the same reason. He is powerful, eh? I've never met anyone like him.”

  “Neither have I,” Fleeting Snow said. “I'd read that book if I were you, Lord Eagle. You can't predict the blessings of the Infinite, eh? I'm happy to have met you, Lord.”

  “And I, you, Lady Snow,” he replied, returning her bow as if her subordinate, honoring her.

  “Infinite be with you, Lady,” Healing Hand called after her.

  “And you, Little Lord,” floated Fleeting Snow's voice from the corridor.

  Spying Eagle thought he might enjoy treating Fleeting Snow, liking her. Stepping toward Healing Hand, he grabbed a cushion and settled himself near the boy, looking at titles on shelves.

  “Listen to this, Lord Eagle,” Healing Hand said, and began to read:

  * * *

  Seeking Answer (8245) experimented to test the effects of interrupting an identical-twin empathy link, placing both twins inside electrical shields. After six months, each twin reported experiencing extreme anxiety and a strong desire to see the other twin. At eight months, both twins began to exhibit paranoid personality disorders. At ten months, because of the severity of the symptoms, Seeking Answer halted the experiment and reunited the twins.

  In a later experiment, this same researcher (Answer, 8249) separated the same twins by a distance of one hundred miles and closely watched the flow between them. Again, after six months, each twin reported similar anxieties and desires. At eight months, however, the psychic field monitors began to register pulses of energy along frequencies corresponding roughly to the twins' signature. These pulses occurred while both twins were deep in dream-stage sleep. The experiment spanned a total of a year, but at no time during the later months did either twin exhibit the expected personality disorders. The researcher speculated—but didn't prove—that the twins restored their contact during dream-stage sleep and hence avoided developing severe symptoms.

  * * *

  Healing Hand looked absently toward the shelves. “That's remarkable. Can you imagine, 'one hundred miles'?”

  “That's quite a distance,” Spying Eagle replied. “Does the book say anything about identical twins and talismans?”

  Shrugging, Healing Hand turned to the index. “Here.” He flipped backward until he found the page. “The chapter title is 'The Emperors Peregrine.' ”

  “Oh, yes, I remember something about them. Didn't they rule both the Northern and Eastern Empires?”

  “That's what it says here, and look—a map.” Healing Hand showed it to him. In the Windy Mountains, just north of a city called Barrow, was Peregrine Castle.

  “That's where the Tiger Fortress is now!”

  Healing Hand looked again at the map. “You're right.”

  “What does it say about the Emperors? About the Imperial Swords?”

  “Well, the chapter starts with the effects of the Heir Swords on their identical-twin empathy link.” Healing Hand looked at the older Wizard, who nodded.

  “At seven years old, Screeching and Plummeting Peregrine grasped the Eastern and Northern Heir Swords respectively. (Author's note: For a treatise on extant political conditions see The Emperors Peregrine: A Study in Diplomacy.)”

  Healing Hand grinned. “I'll wager the text is here.”

  Spying Eagle looked aro
und the room. “This really isn't a very large library, Lord Hand.”

  “I'll read, and you look, eh?” Healing Hand grinned as Spying Eagle rose. “For seven years, the identical-twin empathy link between them went undisrupted. At no time during their infancy had they ever separated.” Healing Hand frowned. “That's odd. I thought infancy lasted only a few years.”

  “In some cultures, infancy lasts until ten,” Spying Eagle replied, perusing titles.

  “Upon accession to the Heirships, the twins' operative frequencies began to change. The Heir Swords began their inexorable molding of the Heirs' minds, preparing the mind of the Heirs for the corresponding Imperial Swords.”

  Healing Hand summarized the next few paragraphs. “The book goes into detail about the specifics of Heir and Imperial Sword rigidness. Here we go:”

  “Gradually, the Peregrine Twins lost their link. The further their signatures diverged, the more each required psychological treatment. Several psychologists diagnosed them with severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Behaviorally, the Peregrine Twins began to argue with each other—something that identical twins never do because of their link.”

  Healing Hand shook his head in disbelief. “Isn't that odd, Spying Eagle? Never argue?” Then he resumed reading.

  “Furthermore, Screeching Peregrine died at forty years old in an accident, and his brother Plummeting Peregrine lived until seventy-eight. Since they'd lost their link, they didn't die simultaneously, as all identical twins do.”

  Nodding gravely, Healing Hand said, “Incredible, eh? What do you think?”

  Spying Eagle looked over from a massive tome, smiling. “If the Arrow Twins were to rule an Empire each, history might just repeat itself.” Then he remembered that the Northern Heir Sword was missing and presumed destroyed.

  Unless Lurking Hawk, the last Northerner, knew where it was.

  No! I won't interrogate him! I won't! Spying Eagle thought.

  The words from the Book of the Infinite rang in his mind:

  “Whatever thy will, thou shalt become what thou fear most.”

  * * *

  When Probing Gaze had achieved inner calm and felt his spirit rise from his body, a psychic tentacle touched his mind. He returned to the living, looking across the meadow toward the mansion. On a balcony near the top of the structure, the servant, Sage, waved at him.