The Melaki Chronicle Volume II

by William Thrash

  Mokura.

  A good a place as any for today. He began scribing on the parchment his findings and ideas on inversion.

  He had learned nothing on inversion in the Ruhka because the Ruhka taught harnessing spirit magic. But he had taken a lesson from Talin on inversion when he had unsummoned a demon-thing by summoning it in reverse.

  Would such a thing work on an unsummoned demon? One that had taken the flesh? He had never delved anything of the like. Was it different? The same? Could he just sever that silver cord and destroy a demon-in-flesh the same way?

  Somehow, he didn't think so.

  He continued scribing, putting the demon away from his thoughts.

  * * *

  Adaris had an hour left, no more. He would have to send the forged parchments out today if he was to implement the foolish plan on time.

  He glanced at the six rolls before him. Unsealed, still, he was not sure he could take them to the wizard and have him seal them. Five would replace reports. The sixth would go to Oolan as proof his task was accomplished.

  I can not do this.

  But what could he do? He pulled a list of assets here in Callacan and there in Tartessan. Pulling all of his agents together, he could possibly scrape together a force of a few old soldiers, several farmers and a few scouts and spies.

  Not enough to invade and do it myself.

  A tap on his door.

  He smiled. It would be Elleri coming for his laundry. “Enter.”

  She entered, smiling, looking down and bashful, as usual. She held her hands together and twisted them.

  “Dinner again tonight?” he said.

  A frown marred her pretty face. “I am not sure. The mistress has said my schedule was changing.”

  “But she--”

  “Yes, she knows I like going with you.”

  “The rotten woman.”

  “Come anyway,” she said.

  “I will.”

  She scurried past him to collect his laundry.

  He shook his head at the reports and the intelligence summaries. Bad news here, bad news there, and now the mistress wants to wreck my relationship with Elleri. By the gods, I do not believe my life could get any worse.

  “Until later today,” she said, her arms full.

  He sighed, wanting more, hoping for more. “Yes, later today.”

  He watched her shut the door. He slid aside the asset parchment and ran his fingers over the scrolls.

  Not only can I not do this, I will not. No matter what my orders.

  He knew it would mean the end of his career. The emperor would find a way to eliminate him unless he ran. He doubted the Callacan king would find a sudden trust in him if he revealed his true purpose and offer him employment with the kingdom.

  Could he run with Elleri?

  Would Melaki know what to do? The wizard was wanted dead by Tarep II, though he knew little more. Apparently the wizard had already survived five assassination attempts.

  Someone with that kind of fortune was either blessed by the gods with uncommon luck or knew a lot more about hiding and surviving than he showed to others.

  He lit the brazier on the floor next to him without a thought towards warmth. One by one, he dropped the scrolls into the flame.

  He would need to run. He would ask of Melaki his advice, but he held little hope he would survive on his own for long unless he ran very far.

  He rose from his chair and left his tiny diplomatic chamber. He would need to arrange having his horse prepared for departure, but that would come after he paid a visit to the wizard. For some reason, he trusted the wizard even though all of his experience said a turncoat or expatriate should never be trusted.

  Did it matter? Was he not now a turncoat and an expatriate? He could never return openly to Tartessan. Did that make him untrustworthy in someone's eyes?

  Surely, Oolan.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly and thoughtfully from the palace. He could run to Tordetani, but loathed the idea that Oolan might someday win against them and find him. Staying in Callacan seemed to be asking for an execution squad to catch up to him. He could hide in the Vattonses, he supposed.

  What better place?

  He walked slowly on the streets, giving himself time. Perhaps he could run all the way to the Meseditt Empire? Would they have use of a spy who refused to follow orders? Even hiding within himself the truth of his betrayal still compromised his loyalty to any new king. Once having questioned his leader, he was now destined to do so forever.

  Leaders demanded blind obedience. Kings were the sole authority. Spies did what they were told for the good of the kingdom.

  He placed his hand on the latch to Melaki's records business. What would his new friends say? They had seemed supportive the previous night.

  There was a raven flapping about overhead, cawing wildly.

  He glanced up, considering. Ravens were always good omens.

  He pushed inside into chaos.

  Several men were in the shop.

  Eliam was roaring, whipping his sword back and forth, deftly blocking swings with his buckler. He occupied a few of the men while the rest were flinging daggers and shooting arrows at the stairs.

  Melaki stood there on the stairs, hood pulled low, only the grimace of his mouth exposed. His hands idly made motions, and arrows and daggers bounced off invisible things. Then he would point. One by one, the attackers toppled.

  Producing his two hidden daggers, Adaris scuttled forward, crablike and fast.

  Two quick stabs to the kidneys with both daggers dropped an assailant. The men were dressed like Atlanteans.

  He slit the throat of one of the archers next to his victim and suddenly Eliam was whirling past him, sword flashing and blood spraying.

  Things got quiet.

  “You can come out, Galli,” said Melaki. He appeared unwinded and calm.

  A bald head poked over the desk. It straightened, rising. “I did not have my bow,” Galli said with a pout.

  “Perhaps you should take dagger lessons from Adaris,” Eliam said in between gasps for breath.

  The assistant looked perturbed.

  Melaki came down the last steps of the tower stairs. “Come for some seals, then, Adaris?”

  He tried to calm his breathing. “No.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have burned them all. And burned my life in the process.”

  The wizard nodded slowly, understanding, accepting, and offering no judgment. “Eliam, would you alert the guard so we can remove these corpses?”

  “Yes, wizard, immediately.” Eliam gave a short bow and left through the front door at a run.

  “I...” Adaris said. He did not know what to say.

  Melaki's brows drew down. “I think you are lost, is it?”

  He sighed, calming finally. “I am. I do not know where to go. I was hoping you could help.”

  Melaki's face went through a few disparate emotional changes - surprise, expectation, shock, acceptance and thoughtfulness. “And you assume I can help an international spymaster?”

  He chuckled, mirthless – more out of desperation. “I do, yes. Yes.”

  The wizard closed his eyes.

  Adaris did not know what he was doing.

  When he opened them, Melaki beckoned. “Come with me upstairs and we shall discuss this."

  Galli looked panicked. “Master? The bodies?” He indicated around the floor of the shop.

  “Eliam will be along soon.”

  “But--”

  “If it makes you feel better, stack them.”

  “Ah, well. Hmm.”

  Adaris followed the wizard up the stairs. They passed the second floor – it was all storage. Extra supplies, a few chairs and tables.

  The third floor was simple – one large room dominated by a desk. Empty shelves lined the room. They looked fresh, as if recently added, but they were devoid of anything.

  The desk held stacks of parchment and the beginnings of a
large book. Wool string hung loosely, having bound several pages between the heavy leather covers.

  Melaki sat and indicated one of four chairs in front of his desk.

  Adaris ran his eyes over the parchments, immediately registering the words written large. They were headings. Wizard-stuff. Unimportant on the larger stage of the world. Meaningless to life. Pointless in the grand flow of events. Worthless to how nations moved amongst themselves.

  The wizard's writing was rounder than normal, in the Atlantean fashion.

  Melaki frowned and closed his book. He shuffled the parchments together and covered them with a blank piece.

  Something he didn't want Adaris to see? Something embarrassing? Something potentially damaging to his stature?

  “What brings you here, friend?” Melaki's voice held no hint of deceit.

  Dismissing whatever the wizard might be wanting to hide of his magic musings, Adaris clasped his hands. “You seem adept at surviving...”

  “Yes?”

  “I...” He swallowed, having so much trouble admitting something he had formerly regarded as trivial because he never assumed he would need protection. “I... need help.”

  “What kind of help?” Melaki seemed relaxed, leaning back against his chair.

  One would think he had not just killed a few men who were trying to assassinate him.

  “I need someone I can trust – to be with someone I can trust – while I decide to where I will be running.”

  “Running. Is it that bad?”

  “Emperor Oolan will not tolerate this kind of betrayal. He will send an execution squad.”

  “Because you did the right thing.”

  “He will not see it that way.”

  Melaki nodded, looking away. “It is a shame rulers can not see the good beyond their own arrogance.”

  “I have failed my emperor.”

  The wizard looked back at him. “You did no such thing. You served your emperor well, even if he is blind to it.”

  “That will not stop an execution order.”

  Melaki rose. “I suppose not. Come, let us arrange for your belongings.”

  “I have little.”

  “Then it will be a simple matter. I will accompany you and we can discuss your plans.”

  * * *

  Melaki led the spy downstairs.

  Guards were entering, and Eliam with them.

  The guard captain tensed. “What manner of crime is this?”

  “No crime,” said Galli. “Altanlean assassins. They do not like my master.”

  The captain eyed Melaki as he came down. “A wizard? You do not look Atlantean.”

  He lifted the sleeve of his robe. “Perhaps that is why they do not like me.”

  The guard captain squinted. “I will not allow such activities in the capital.”

  Melaki grinned. “I am not allowed to defend myself against assassins?”

  The captain, a tall man with a black beard, stepped forward boldly to the wizard. He stabbed his finger forward. “You will behave as I expect or I will shut down your business.”

  Melaki folded his arms, his tone challenging. “I would like to see you try.”

  Galli was shaking his head frantically. “Master, no. This is not like Roka.”

  “What?”

  “He can indeed shut you down.”

  He stood straighter. “Oh, I see.”

  The captain sneered. “Consider your business closed.”

  “What?” Melaki's burst froze everyone in place.

  The captain raised his chin slowly. “I can throw you in prison for resisting a lawful order.”

  Galli was a blur of bald as he got in between the two men. “That will not be necessary, captain. We are closed. We will see the business sold to the Royal Treasury immediately.”

  The guard captain looked down at Galli and then up at Melaki. “Very well. See to it, this day.”

  Melaki coughed. “Galli--”

  “Silence!” Galli's shout was loud and commanding. He never yelled.

  He snapped his mouth shut. He was sure Galli had his reasons.

  The guard captain smiled, but it was not friendly. “You have a smart friend.” Then he whirled and left.

  His other guards began lifting bodies.

  Galli looked up at him. “The guard captain has final and arbitrary say on any business within the capital walls.”

  “He can not just--”

  “He can and did.”

  Melaki heaved a sigh of frustration. “What now? What is this selling--”

  “The guard captain can order you closed. If he does, you must sell to the Royal Treasury. He can also declare you forfeit, at which point you must give the Royal Treasury your property.”

  “Forfeit?”

  Galli nodded. “I could smell the words on his tongue; I had to silence you.”

  He shook his head. “Then I owe you my thanks.”

  Galli grumbled, shaking his head. “I will collect the deeds.”

  “They can throw us out, just like that?”

  “In the capital they can.” His assistant's voice carried from the back room.

  Melaki threw up his hands. “This is insane.”

  “It is the law.”

  “Is it like this in your country?” he said to Adaris.

  The spy jumped as if startled. “Similar, yes. But only in the capital.”

  “Preposterous.”

  Eliam scratched his beard. “You really did not know?”

  “No, I did not know.” He spread his arms. “Do I look Callacan?”

  Galli waved the deeds and gave a defeated sigh. “I was almost starting to like records keeping.”

  Melaki shook his head, angry.

  His assistant left just behind the last of the guards hauling away the dead assassins.

  Melaki followed him out, leading Adaris. Eliam brought up the rear.

  Galli looked back. “You are coming, master?”

  “I was going to talk to Adaris along the way to the palace, but I suppose we now have business there.”

  His assistant looked away, raised the deeds and waggled them.

  Across the street was the guard captain. He nodded when he saw the display. Then he stopped leaning against the wall and walked away.

  “He was waiting?” Melaki said.

  Galli grunted.

  “How long will we have--”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, Adaris, it looks like we are all without a home.”

  “Why does Tarep want you dead?” said the spy.

  The question caught him off-guard. What should he tell a spy? Former spy. Could he get away with the truth? “I was to be brought into necromancy for the emperor's purpose. Instead I slew his necromancer.”

  Galli looked back, eyes wide. “You never told me--”

  “It was unimportant.”

  Adaris chuckled. “I imagine that irritated your emperor.”

  “It is beginning to irritate me.” Melaki ground his teeth together. When would Tarep give up? Ever? It had to be expensive hiring assassins to chase one wizard across the seas.

  They entered the palace complex. The guards looked them over and gave Eliam a wave.

  “I should only need a few minutes,” said Adaris. “I will not be bringing along my cot or desk.”

  Galli played with a frown. “It will take us slightly longer.”

  “How long can it take to give them my property?” said Melaki.

  His assistant made calming motions with his hand. “Have patience, master. Perhaps I should do all the talking.”

  Stumbling, his world spinning, Melaki fell to a knee. His ears rung and his vision grew faint. He heard his friends exclaiming and felt the touch of hands. Then he knew no more.

  CHAPTER 10

  Melaki floated, at peace. All was dark around him and the darkness was a comfort. He had no sensation of breathing until he thought about it and took a breath.

  Light began to be seen. The brig
ht night sky, inky black with shining points of silver. Some twinkled with color. And then there was that enormous ball of light the one had called a moon. It glowed as if lit from within, as would a shaded lamp.

  “Why do you look with such wonder?”

  Melaki looked down. He was on the grassy hilltop, the blades of grass rimed with the silver reflection of light from above. The figure in white was there, face in shadow, eyes glowing fiercely.

  “I have never seen such as this, except here.” He pointed to the heavens. “Is this real?”

  “It is.”

  “But--”

  “You can not see it because of the firmament holding the waters.”

  Melaki peered at the figure. “You are not a man, if you can see this? And know this?”

  “I am a messenger.”

  “Are you of the Nephilim?”

  “I am not.”

  “Why am I here? Why am I being shown this?”

  “You are here to receive the message. This is what is--”

  “There is waters above--”

  “The waters you see above are temporary. Even now, the firmament is under strain.”

  “What of the rocks? The burning rocks?”

  “I am not here to reveal that time.”

  Melaki straightened. “Then what is your message?” He noticed that the figure never moved – only its mouth.

  “Accompany the man Adaris whither he goes.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, that is convenient because I have this day lost my home.”

  “Such was the will of the Most High.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “The Most High has seen your efforts and your heart.”

  “Have I been so bad? Is it my magic? Giant magic is evil?”

  “Your purpose in doing what is right has His approval.”

  “So I lose my home?”

  “You must accompany Adaris.”

  “And why?”

  The figure paused. “Your abilities are unique to this situation.”

  “Unique?”

  “You often look at things backwards.”

  Melaki shook his head. The figure was as enigmatic as a missing page in a book. “My magic is not bad?”

  “Your abilities are not. What you do with them is what must be judged.”