His Ancient Heart

by M. R. Forbes

  "He bought her into slavery," Talon said. "He raped her. He used her to satisfy his sick curiosity. Was her life better for that, or simply longer? Not to mention, he was ready to let me kill you to keep me from finding out about her."

  Delia was silent, embarrassed.

  She had changed while he'd been gone, her other clothes likely soiled by their efforts to clean the deck. She was wearing a more modest dark blouse and long pants, black gloves, high boots and a short, hooded cloak. A leather belt wrapped around her waist, lined with small, six-sided metal stars. She had put a green cloth around her forehead, using it to hold her dark hair away from her face.

  "My father is dead," she said at last. "I suppose he got the end you believe he deserved. Rosalei... I agree she didn't deserve what happened to her, not any of it, but my father didn't create the situation. He did. What are we going to do about it, General?"

  "This barge is sinking," he said. "The forward hold is bringing on water. We can't move Curio's collection, and we can't risk that it will wind up in the wrong hands. The ebocite alone is dangerous, and who knows what else your father has stashed in those boxes. We need to salvage what food and supplies we can from the barges, and burn whatever is left. Seeing everything destroyed should keep the other ships away from the shore."

  He waited for Delia to argue. She was still and silent.

  "I had hoped the farspeak stone your father had in the hold would help me learn what he is planning next. Unfortunately, it was also destroyed, which means we must continue to Edgewater. Losing the barge is going to cost us time, and this attack will serve to alert him both to where we are, and how we may arrive." Talon drew in a heavy breath and sighed it out. "I'm afraid we may have won this battle, and in doing so given him the upper hand. Our stealth is our greatest asset." His eyes flicked from Wilem, who was watching Delia, over to the girl. "What are you going to do about it?"

  "My father is dead. Rosalei is dead. Dal is dead. If you burn the barge, nearly everything I ever held dear will be gone. Fastra Transport will be mine, as soon as I return to Wolfton to claim it. If I return to Wolfton to claim it. I never wanted to be a merchant. I've spent too many years sailing up and down the Gorges, and in the end... No. It all trails back to him, doesn't it, General? Your darkness. My darkness. The plight of the Cursed. The death of this entire town." She looked back at the smoldering remains of Fulton, littered with human and Shifter corpses. "I'll follow you if you'll have me."

  Talon wasn't surprised. She was hurting, angry. She wanted to lash out at someone for what had just happened to her. Why not the most obvious target? "I think you should take some time to consider-"

  "No," she said, cutting him off. "General Spyne raped and killed my mother. He sent him and his Historians to do it. Father forbade me from seeking him, certain that it would only lead to my death, but I can fight, General. Dal taught me the ways of his people, ways that no soldier in this Empire has seen before. I want to travel with you." As if to prove her point, she lowered herself into a crouch, spinning and throwing her hand out in one smooth motion. A moment later, he heard the thunk of one of the stars striking the side of the railing, the edge buried deep into the wood.

  The only reason Talon could think of not to accept her was Wilem. His eyes had stayed on Delia the entire time, and despite what he had said earlier his interest was painfully obvious. If Talon brought her along, he might gain a warrior, but cost Eryn her opportunity for love.

  He loved her, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but that was Silas Morningstar's excuse. Talon Rast was at war and couldn't be considerate of feelings. Not until he was dead.

  "Very well," he said. "You know what you have in your hold. We need enough food and water for a week. Wilem, help her collect everything. Once you're finished, set the barge on fire and make sure it will burn away to nothing. If you need to use your magic, do it. We can't afford some poor soul happening over the ebocite."

  "As you command, General," Delia said, bowing to him. "Thank you."

  Wilem turned and smiled as he copied her bow. "What you are you going to do?" he asked.

  Talon paused. He closed his eyes, his mind catching his thoughts and carrying him along. He saw Genesia there. He felt the pump of his heart and the heat of the furnaces. He saw his hands, nimble fingers working with the smallest of parts, assembling them with bolts and nails. He saw a workbench, tools, and a crude metal hand plated in ircidium.

  His eyes opened.

  "We need another way down the river. I'm going to start building a raft."

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Talon

  Talon was shirtless and sweating when Delia and Wilem returned. They each had a burlap pack stuffed with food and water skins in their hand, and Wilem had a third on his back. They were talking to one another as they approached him, and when he looked, he could see the redness in the girl's eyes. She had waited to be out of his sight before crying again, perhaps afraid to look weak in front of him.

  He had known they would be along soon when he had seen the flashes of light in the corner of his eye, and the bridge of the Delia had exploded in flame. Now the entire barge was burning. It was joined by the others, the trio sending enough new dark smoke into the night sky to blot out the stars, and enough heat into the air that it was hard to breathe.

  "They'll burn to nothing," Wilem said. "I also pulled the sediment from the bottom of the river up and over the forward hold."

  He looked exhausted from the effort. The blue crystal at the end of the ircidium staff made the fire easy. Moving the earth could not have been.

  "How are you feeling?"

  "I need to sleep." He stayed a few feet away from Talon, dropping the packs and then sitting in the sand next to them.

  "You brought that wood here by yourself?" Delia asked, not quite believing it.

  While they had been collecting the supplies, Talon had gathered the materials he needed. Rope, planks, and two oars from the other barges, along with burned but solid heavy beams from the remains of the Willow. He'd also gathered nails, some canvas, and a heavy mallet from the blacksmith. It sat in lines behind him, raw materials waiting to be turned into something useful.

  The beams had been heavy, but he had managed. "I dragged them," he said, pointing at the deep ruts in the sand.

  "Aren't you tired?"

  "I can't afford to be tired. Word is going to reach him of what happened here, and he's going to be ready. We need to get to Kregin before that can happen."

  Delia dropped her pack and sat right next to Wilem. Talon couldn't help but notice how she glanced over at the boy when she did. She was in awe of the Mediator.

  "What's in Edgewater that's so important to you?" she asked.

  "Nothing," Talon replied.

  "Nothing?"

  He picked up the end of one of the heavy beams and dragged it to the water. He waded in until it was floating on its own, and then let it go. It slipped away from him, moving a few feet downstream until it smacked into posts he had planted in the riverbed.

  "There is a place called the Refinery," Talon said. "It is where the blood of the Mediators is brought to be cleansed of the disease they carry. The Curse. It is transported there by soldiers, special soldiers known only as the Carriers. They move between Edgewater and the Refinery, taking a secret route. Once they leave the city, they vanish from the eyes and minds of the people, until they return again. We mean to track the Carriers from Edgewater, and follow them to the Refinery. Once we control it, we can begin to save the Cursed, starting with Eryn. So, it isn't what's in Edgewater. It's what arrives to and from Edgewater that I'm concerned with."

  "Eryn? The Wh-" Delia's voice trailed off as she thought better of using the nickname.

  "Talon's granddaughter," Wilem said.

  Talon raised his eyebrow at Wilem's omission of his relation to Eryn, though he said nothing. He dragged another of the large beams to the water and let it float.

  "That's why you're fighting h
im? For your granddaughter?"

  Murderer.

  Talon paused, still knee-deep in the river. "For thousands of granddaughters," he said softly, before returning to the shore to get another beam.

  "Why are you fighting?" she asked, putting her hand on Wilem's arm. "You were a Mediator, weren't you?"

  "I was until my mentor tried to kill me."

  "Tried to kill you?"

  "Yes. He didn't want me to take his place. He poisoned me. I met Eryn, and she helped me see the truth of it."

  "She's important to you," Delia said, reading his face.

  Wilem flushed. "Well... uh..."

  She smiled. "Why are you shy about it? Caring for someone is nothing to be embarrassed abo- oh." Her face began to redden, and she was silent for a moment before speaking again. "I've had my share of suitors. Men up and down the Gorges have come to my father, asking for my hand. Begging for it. Offering to pay for it. My mother was very, very beautiful, and I inherited much of that beauty. It is a blessing in some ways. A curse in others. Dal was the only man I was ever able to befriend because he preferred to have Abeleth in his bed. All of the other sailors, they only spoke to me because they wanted this." She ran her hand down her body, and then put her finger to her head. "Not this." She put her finger to her mouth. "Not this." She squeezed Wilem's arm. "I see you looking at me. Your eyes see this, but they also see past it. I would like another friend. I need another friend, now that my family is lost. Even so, I won't be the reason for you to forsake your heart."

  Talon was pulling the fourth beam into the water while Delia spoke. He dropped it with the others and turned back to see Wilem get to his feet and move away from them.

  Delia stood, too. Talon thought it would be to follow Wilem, but instead she came to him.

  "I don't understand that," she said, referring to Wilem's reaction.

  "He's confused," Talon said.

  "By me?"

  "By himself. He loves Eryn, but he's attracted to you. He doesn't understand how that can be, and it worries him. He feels guilty for it. That would be well if he could justify his attraction with your own, but to be rejected... Boys his age want all of the world to bend to their terms."

  "I am attracted to him. He is handsome and powerful. He is kind, and he hasn't once tried to force himself on me, even when we were alone. Even with all of his power. I don't care that he's Cursed. Rosalei was Cursed, and she was the sweetest, most gentle person. If he didn't have Eryn... I wouldn't have said what I did."

  "I know. He does, too, or will. He'll return soon, and all will be well."

  So long as you stick to your decision. Even then, you don't control his heart any more than I do, or Eryn does. It will settle where it will for as long as it will.

  It wasn't his business to get involved. It wasn't his problem. He loved Eryn, and wanted her to be happy, but he had more important concerns. Besides, she was certainly strong enough to survive a broken heart.

  He pulled the final beam into the water, and then returned for the planks. He could see the finished raft in his mind. It was crude compared to the wonders he had helped create, but it would do what it needed to.

  "You don't need to go to Edgewater," Delia said as he picked up the first of the planks.

  "Yes, we do," he replied.

  She put her hand on his wrist and found his eyes with hers. "No, General, you don't."

  "What do you mean?"

  "What you called the farspeak stone. I had brought Rosalei a meal only a few hours before you arrived. I didn't hear the beginning, and it didn't make much sense to me before, but what you said about the Carriers-"

  "What about them?"

  "I think I know where they're going to be."

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Spyne

  "What time is it?" Spyne asked, rolling over in the large, four-posted bed that had only days ago belonged to the late Overlord of Varrow City.

  Adjunct Overlord Sazi stirred beside him, turning herself so that her arm draped over his hairy chest, her face only inches from his. She gave him a wanton smile, eyebrows raised. "I know what time it is."

  He felt the reaction in his groin, the interest. He stared into her dark eyes. She was as wild as he had supposed, so comfortable and free with her body and soul. Not like any of the others he had taken over the years.

  Is it because she is the first who doesn't fear me?

  She leaned down and took the end of his beard in her teeth, pulling it and growling like a dog. He felt an emotion form beneath her play. It was rough and dull, like an uncut diamond. He pushed his hand below her, placing it on her backside and pulling her closer.

  "I have orders," he said. The emotion was growing. It hinted of anger and frustration, and at the same time fascinated him. He hadn't come to Varrow to dally with this woman. He had come to kill Talon. Wrapped up in the blankets with her, her soft flesh against his, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not enough to get out of bed.

  "I have different orders for you, General," Sazi said. She put her lips to his, biting down on the bottom one hard enough to draw blood. He welcomed the pain.

  Was Tella like this?

  Her aggressiveness pushed his memories. He could almost see his wife now, or so he thought. She looked just like the Adjunct. Maybe a little thicker in the hips, and softer in the middle. Each time he took the Adjunct, he thought of something else. She loved the taste of strawberries. She had once owned a dog. They had met in the gardens of... He still couldn't remember the name of the place. It was before Genesia. Before their daughter.

  I should be out there, hunting down the One Zero. That is what he commanded.

  He let out a throaty growl of his own. Sazi took it as pleasure, and her lips tracked down to his chest. The emotion continued to grow in him. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. He knew the risk when he had ordered him to remember Genesia. He would find the Whore when he was ready. She wasn't that important. Talon was, and he had ordered him elsewhere. He had stolen that vengeance from him.

  He could wait.

  He took in a deep, rumbling breath, taking Sazi by the shoulders and pulling her back up, rolling her on top of him.

  I'll get to the juggernaut when I am satisfied. When I remember all of it.

  He looked up at Sazi's unclothed body. He blinked his eyes. Her face became Tella's face, her nose narrowing, her eyes becoming more almond-shaped. Her breasts grew larger, more rounded. Only for a moment. He took another breath. He had orders. He had made a promise.

  A promise he wouldn't break.

  To Heden with him.

  "Get off," he said, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.

  "I'm not done with you yet," Sazi replied. Her hips shifted on him.

  "I said get off." The words came out harsh and low. Even one as bold as Sazi didn't dare question them. She rolled back away from him, sliding right out of the bed and walking naked across the room, to the Overlord's dresser.

  "It is just as well," she said. "The assembly is waiting for me." She opened the dresser and began picking her undergarments from it. She carried them with her to an adjoining room, where a warm bath was always waiting.

  Spyne took hold of the covers and threw them away from him, exposing his hairy and scarred body. He slid off the bed and followed Sazi into the bath, sliding into the warm water with her. She began to float his way, and he waved her off.

  "Enough. I've been here too long already. You're fortunate I don't kill you for holding me back."

  "Holding you-" Sazi began to argue, and then quieted.

  "Wash my back, and then go and tell your underling to get me my clothes." He turned around so she could run the rough soap over the large expanse of equally rough flesh. She did as she was told, scrubbing it quickly and then removing herself to summon her servant. He was already out of the bath by the time she returned.

  "Will you be coming back to Varrow?" she asked.

  "When Talon and the Whore are both dead. Not before."

  "Wh
at of the new Overlord?"

  "You will remain Adjunct for the time being. The Mediators are tied up with more important business."

  "More important than ruling a province?" She said it as though there was no such thing.

  "Yes. Your hands are capable."

  She smiled at him, a low purr in her throat. "Aren't they, General?"

  There was a knock on her chamber door. She vanished from the bathroom for a moment, returning with his black uniform in her arms. She still hadn't bothered to dress herself at all.

  "My parents always wanted me to have such small dreams," she said.

  "I don't care about your parents or your dreams." He took the clothes from her and began to dress.

  "I know you don't. I don't need you for that. Your power gives me legitimacy as Overlord. If I can prove myself worthy, perhaps he'll let me remain in the role?"

  "Perhaps."

  She approached him, pressing her body against his. "Perhaps you can speak on my behalf?"

  He was tempted to carry her back to the bed. Instead, he pushed her away. "I have no power over his decisions. Run the province well, keep the rebellion quiet, provide workers for the mine, collect the taxes, and do not allow the Cursed to roam free. Make decisions with your head, not your heart or your sex. That is what will impress him."

  She stared at him a moment, and then bowed. "As you say, General."

  He pulled his cloak over his shoulders and clasped it. His hand went to his hip out of habit, though his weapons were still in the barracks with Peyn. He turned and stormed from the chamber, leaving without another word.

  The Overlord's chamber was near the top of the second of the paired towers that were common to all of the palaces in the Empire. It was a location that offered a view of the entire city and some of the surrounding countryside, from windows that faced in every direction. While even Sazi believed the Overlord's perch was so high because of their status, Spyne knew it was so they could respond to threats with their Curse.