Dedication
This book is dedicated to all the people who have written a review, sent me a message, posted a response, or walked up to me at a convention just to say thank you.
You motivate me…
Thanks again to Noah Stacey for excellent cover art, and to my ever-tolerant wife Anne for her editorial input, and for not bonking me on the head and rolling me into the ocean for perfectly valid reasons.
Weapon of Vengeance
Weapon of Flesh Trilogy
Book 3
Chris A. Jackson
Kindle edition
7.26.14
Book 3 of the Weapon of Flesh Trilogy, Weapon of Vengeance continues the story of Lad, a man crafted of magic and flesh to be the most lethal assassin the world has ever known.
A weapon bereft…
Guilt wracked and vengeful, Lad scours Twailin for the killer who destroyed his life. With the Assassins Guild at his beck and call, the search should be straightforward. However, cryptic clues lead to one dead end after another, thwarting his obsession.
Forced to trust a traitor and keep secrets from those closest to him, Lad’s only hope is to find Kiesha, a woman caught between worlds. Is she a thief, an assassin, or a pawn of the very powers that control the Empire? Unfortunately, Lad’s not the only one hunting her.
When summoned by the Grandmaster, Lad must face hard questions. Dare he continue his investigation and risk the enmity of the man who can spend his life on a whim? Can he trust Mya’s offer of help, or will she betray him to ensure her own safety? And the most difficult question: Will vengeance truly bring solace?
Copyright Notice
Copyright 2014 Chris A. Jackson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, except for brief quotations in printed reviews—without prior permission from the author.
Cover Image Copyright 2014 Jaxbooks
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright Notice
Prelude
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
About the Author
Novels by Chris A. Jackson
Prelude
Hoseph waited in darkness, as patient as death itself. Death. Though most feared it, Hoseph did not. He knew death, and even embraced it as a tenet of his faith. Death was his constant companion.
The Right Hand of Death.
He smiled at his little conceit, but there was no denying its aptness in describing his dual roles. In his devotion to Demia, Keeper of the Slain, Hoseph ushered troubled souls from life to their duly earned hereafter. In return, Demia conferred upon him her divine gifts. She had given him much, and he reveled in her cold grace. His fingers caressed the smooth curves of the small silver skull—her talisman—hidden within the sleeve of his robe, and felt the cool energy awaiting his command.
Hoseph liked to think that his goddess was pleased with his second calling as well. As the right hand of the Grandmaster of the Assassins Guild, he ushered many souls into Demia’s keeping. Not personally, as a general rule, but in the performance of his duties: advising, strategizing, and passing on the Grandmaster’s orders. His role also maintained the guild’s most carefully coveted secret. Few knew that the Grandmaster of the Assassins Guild and Emperor Tynean Tsing II were the same man.
A latch clicked, and lamplight scythed through the room as the door swung open. An elegantly dressed man bearing a lamp entered and closed the door behind him.
Hoseph’s wait was over.
“Good evening Baron.”
Baron Eusteus Patino started only slightly, not because he didn’t fear death, but because he was ignorant that he stood in its presence. Patino knew nothing of the Assassins Guild. He thought his visitor merely the emperor’s messenger, and was used to Hoseph’s unannounced arrivals. The baron turned toward the shadowed corner where the priest sat, and inclined his head in greeting.
“Good evening, Hoseph.” Patino placed the lamp on the sideboard. The golden light gleamed off the highly polished wood and scattered though the crystal decanters. “I was about to pour myself a brandy. I’d offer you one, but I recall that you don’t partake.”
“Your memory is accurate, Baron.” Hoseph stood, the hem of his robes brushing the priceless silk rug beneath his feet. Baron Patino loved his luxuries and had the means to support his penchant. But what he loved more was prestige, the honor and esteem that came from a noble title. And though being a baron was good, being a count would be better. That yearning for advancement had made it simple for Hoseph to recruit him. That, and his misguided sense of intrigue. “I received your summons. Please tell me that the news is good.”
“The news is excellent.” The lip of the decanter struck a musical note on the edge of the snifter as the baron poured. He swirled the liquor in the glass, poised his nose above the rim, and inhaled deeply. Sighing with pleasure, he sipped before continuing. “I received an interim report from Master Hensen.” He withdrew a folded letter from the inside pocket of his smoking jacket and handed it over. “The two people he was contracted to protect are alive and well, and he believes that the most prominent threat to their lives is ended.”
“That is excellent news. The emperor will be pleased.” Hoseph scanned the letter.
Though relieved that Mya and her bodyguard were still alive—he had worried that the unanticipated contact meant bad news—he wondered what had precipitated the early report. Unfortunately, the letter did not elaborate. Hoseph longed for details. What had happened to end the threat? Patino knew nothing, of course. The baron was nothing but a go-between. Hoseph needed to go to the source.
He tucked the letter away and bowed to the baron. “You’ve performed admirably, Baron. Your service to the empire is noted.”
“Just doing my duty. Please give His Majesty my warmest regards.” Patino smiled and raised his glass in toast.
“Of course.” Hoseph nodded politely; he would certainly give the emperor Patino’s regards. The baron was a perfect operative: loyal, competent, ignorant, and easy to manipulate with a few words of gratitude from on high.
Retrieving the silver skull from his sleeve, he murmured the invocation that called on Demia’s power. Tendrils of her divine essence flowed from the talisman, as dark and cold as death itself, to embraced and consumed him. The baron, the study, the very world faded around him.
Hoseph blinked and opened his eyes onto an ethereal realm of lost souls, banished demons, and vanquished godlings. This was not a world, plane of existence, or even a place, really. Wizards, priests, and metaphysicists had hypothesized that it might be the fabri
c that bound the universe together, and had coined the name “sphere of shadows,” which Hoseph though a misnomer. There were no shadows, for there was no light. Hoseph perceived his immediate surroundings as veils of vaporous essence, black and gray wisps swirling as if blown by unfelt winds. There were no sounds, no odors, or even air to breathe. Only Demia’s grace allowed him to survive here, and to use the sphere as a conduit between points on his own world.
Picturing in his mind the destination he desired, the priest once again invoked his goddess’ power. The sphere of shadow faded, and Hoseph materialized in a bedroom. Small and stark, only a few signs of femininity indicated that it was a lady’s room, though nothing hinted at the owner’s true nature. He quirked a thin smile; this was exactly where he wished to be.
Unfortunately, Kiesha wasn’t there.
Patience…
Hoseph moved the only available chair to the corner out of view of the door, sat, and let his mind sort through the details he needed from her.
In time he heard voices outside bidding one another good night. The door opened and Kiesha walked in with a rustle of silk brocade, lace, and ruffles. Unaware of him, she closed the door and leaned back against it, her knuckles white on the latch. With a quick, sharp breath and a shake of her head, she took three quick steps to the clothespress, wrenching at the laces of her dress.
“Before you disrobe, I would like to speak with you.”
Kiesha froze at the sound of his voice, but didn’t turn. Unlike the baron, she knew he was the emissary of the Grandmaster of Assassins. She had no idea that Hoseph’s master was also the Emperor of Tsing, of course, and never would.
After a brief hesitation, she resumed working on the laces, her tone impatient. “Speak quickly then. I’ve been in a corset for twelve hours, and I intend to remove it.”
Hoseph regarded Kiesha as she loosened the laces, shrugged the gown off her shoulders, and pushed the voluminous garment down over her hips. The dress landed in a frothy pile. She stepped out of it and started on the laces of her corset. Long ago, Hoseph might have been moved by such a brazen display, but years of devotion to Demia had stripped away such distracting desires.
“You can’t embarrass me, child. I came here for information on the report sent to Baron Patino, and I will have it.”
“The report?” She turned to face him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Hensen only sent it this morning. Patino contacted you already?”
“Obviously. I know that Mya and her bodyguard are alive, but I need details. Exactly how was the threat to their lives ended?”
“You want details?” Kiesha squirmed out of her corset and heaved a breath as if it was the first she’d taken that day. A disdainful kick sent the garment skittering across the floor in the general direction of the dresser. Grabbing a robe from the clothespress, she pulled it on and turned toward him, her blue eyes blazing. “Fine. The four other masters are dead. How’s that for a detail?”
Hoseph frowned. Defiance? Kiesha’s reports were usually calm, succinct, and to the point, so her vitriolic response came as a shock. She was an invaluable operative, perfectly positioned to glean information from the Assassins Guild’s principal rivals. It would be a pity if she developed a dangerous attitude.
“Explain how that occurred, please,” he ordered. “From the beginning.”
She sighed and sat on the corner of the bed, undoing her coif as she spoke. “I convinced Hensen to assign me to watch over Mya and her bodyguard, as you suggested, and learned that the masters had banded together against her.”
“Did they discover that she was having a new guildmaster ring crafted?”
“No.” Kiesha looked annoyed at the interruption. “They discovered that she never destroyed the previous ring.”
“She what?”
“The masters thought she wore it. That it was protecting her against their assassination attempts. So they took another route and tried to kill her bodyguard. I thwarted that attempt.”
“How?”
“I killed the assassin they sent after him.” She said it matter-of-factly. “It was close, but he didn’t see me.”
“Good.”
She glared at him. “I thought so too, until the masters decided to turn him against Mya.”
“And how did they do that? He’s under her control.”
“If you let me explain…” Kiesha pursed her lips and tossed her hairpins onto her night table.
“Please do.” So acerbic. She was definitely in a mood. What had provoked her?
“The masters learned that he can disobey her. They wanted him to kill Mya, since he’s signed no blood contract and the ring wouldn’t stop him, but apparently his inherent magic prevented him from killing her outright.”
Hoseph huffed a wry laugh. “Yes, Saliez had a restraint worked into the weapon’s magic to prevent it from turning against its master.”
Kiesha’s eyes narrowed. “The weapon’s name is Lad. The masters kidnapped his daughter and offered to exchange her for Mya. Unfortunately for them, the plan blew up in their faces.”
Hoseph gaped at her. “His daughter? Saliez’s weapon has a daughter?”
“A family.” Her piercing blue eyes smoldered. “If I had a way to contact you, I’d have been able to tell you.”
Hoseph ignored her snide comment. He was having enough difficulty accepting the notion of a weapon of magic and flesh having a family. The animal instinct to procreate, perhaps?
“How can that be?”
“Lad’s apparently…more than we believed him to be.” She looked away, her voice faltering.
Ahhh, Kiesha, is that the crux of your anxiety? Have you developed empathy for this…Lad? “So, did he deliver Mya to them?”
“Yes.” Kiesha shrugged and met his eyes again. “But it was a ruse. Her bonds were false. When the masters tried to double cross him, Lad and Mya attacked. The fight was…” Kiesha swallowed. “I’ve never seen anyone move like that. I did what I could to protect them. When it was over, the four masters were dead and their surviving guards had fled.”
Hoseph considered the ramifications. Not entirely bad, actually. It meant that Mya could start with a clean slate, appointing her own faction masters, and not have to deal with hostile subordinates who would fight her every initiative.
Hoseph chuckled. “So, Mya wore the guildmaster’s ring and couldn’t be harmed.”
“She didn’t wear it.”
“What? How did she survive?”
“She survived because you told me to keep her alive.” Kiesha’s eyes blazed with indignation for a moment. “I killed anyone who got close to her. Lad’s wife wore the ring. She came to the exchange with Lad. It was part of the ruse. She used its protection to get their child away from the fighting.”
Hoseph frowned again. “So, the wife wears the guildmaster’s ring?”
“She wore it, I said.” Kiesha’s lips pressed into a line. “You made it clear that the Grandmaster wanted Mya to be guildmaster, so I…killed Lad’s wife.”
“You…” Hoseph stared at Kiesha, and a slow smile spread across his face. “That was very quick thinking. So, with the ring freed—“
“I murdered Lad’s wife right in front of him!” Kiesha’s anguish spoke volumes.
Curiously, her pain eased Hoseph’s mind. She wasn’t rebelling, she was just suffering from guilt. The mystery of her foul mood was solved.
“He’s seeking her killer, set on vengeance.”
“Does he know that it was you?”
“No.” Kiesha shook her head. “I ran for my life afterward. He couldn’t know, but my contacts tell me that he’s determined to find out.”
“Relax, child. I’m sure Mya won’t let him go careening off on a hunt for his wife’s killer. Now that she’s guildmaster—”
“Why do you keep assuming that?” Kiesha’s question was half incredulous, half scornful. “Lad put on the guildmaster’s ring! He’s got the entire guild out searching for clues to his wife’s murder.”
>
Hoseph’s thoughts wavered. That could be a problem. “Did he see you?”
“He couldn’t have. I told you, I ran as soon as…” Kiesha took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “There are all sorts of rumors flying around, but they all have one thing in common—Lad is in charge, not Mya. He’s already appointed four new masters and made changes in the guild’s business practices.”
Hoseph listened to Kiesha’s summary of those changes with only half his mind. With the other half, he considered the situation. Mya was not guildmaster as he had planned, but still, the situation had promise. The weapon was under control. He had much to consider before reporting to the Grandmaster.
The first priority, however, was to allay Kiesha’s fears. “You’ve done well, Kiesha.” He pulled a small satin pouch from a pocket and offered it to her. With seeming reluctance, the thief reached out, grasped it, and tossed it onto the bed. The contents rattled like dice, though their facets were valued in carats, not numbers.
“I need protection,” Kiesha insisted. “If they get too close, I may need to disappear. If I had a way to contact you…”
Hoseph shook his head. “In due time, child. Don’t worry, and don’t do anything rash. The Grandmaster will deal with this. There’s still work to be done. First, find out where this new guildmaster lives. Any more information on changes he’s instituting would be helpful. I’ll check back with you in a few days. If you need to disappear, I’ll arrange a secure location.”
“All right.” She sounded calmer. Not happy, but resigned.
Hoseph flicked the silver skull into his hand and invoked the power of his beloved goddess. As Demia’s cold grace consumed him, he caught one last glimpse of Kiesha’s eyes, bright with the fear of death. That was enough, for now, to keep her under his control.
Chapter I
Weapon of Vengeance (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy) Page 1
