The Fractured Empire: Book Seven of the Disinherited Prince Series

by Guy Antibes

  “Cimet. You’re a member of the Second Army?”

  “How have you been?”

  “Been?” General Biloben looked confused. “Been?”

  He looked at Pol and Shira as he fought to regain his composure. Cimet had obviously removed the man’s compulsion. Pol was impressed the man could stay conscious after having a compulsion removed.

  “I will take you back to the Second myself.” Ben called for his horse. He looked at Pol. “You came through the side entrance?”

  “We did,” Pol said.

  “Then let’s return to the Second the same way.” Ben turned to talk to the other officers. “I’ll be back soon enough. We haven’t seen each other in years. My brother is a healer, you know.”

  A soldier brought the General’s horse. Cimet’s brother did not waste any time as he threaded his way through the tents and out the way they entered. Biloben stopped midway between armies, a distance of one hundred paces between each army.

  “What have you done, Cimet?”

  “I removed your compulsion, Ben.” Cimet had an irrepressible smile. “We can go back to Lake, now,”

  “And you are Seekers?” The General leveled an angry gaze at Pol and Shira. “You are for sure no Winnower magician. They do not know how to disguise their faces, and, if I’m not mistaken, you both ride Shinkyan horses. I’m sure there is a story to that.”

  “I’m Deftnis-trained,” Pol said. “Our goal is to stall the Winnower armies.”

  Ben heard the commotion coming from the Second Army. “It looks like you are succeeding. We can talk about that later. Can you do the same to the Third? We will return, and I will escort you through the camp, and then we can leave.” Ben looked sick and hung his head. “I am ashamed of what I’ve become.”

  The General impressed Pol. No wonder the Winnow Society wanted him to lead their troops. “The armband color is green,” Ben said. He watched the colors change on Shira’s and Cimet’s shirts and the embroidered symbol go from yellow to green on Pol’s mask.

  “Let’s go.”

  Ben led them through the camp with Cimet at his side, pointing out this and that while Shira and Pol tweaked away.

  “Why don’t we return to the officers?” Shira said.

  “They aren’t under any kind of influence. It is time to leave.”

  The General trotted a little faster, but he still moved slowly enough to wave to occasional troops. Once they hit the road, the General crossed it to the field on the other side. They trotted up and over the hill, and then Ben began to gallop away. Pol and Shira looked at each other and grinned.

  “Won’t Ranno be surprised?” Pol said.

  “We aren’t in Yastan, yet,” Shira replied.

  Biloben outpaced them for a bit longer, but Pol held Demeron back. They rode for half-an-hour at that pace, and then the General slowed. Pol was sure the horses appreciated the end of the sprint. Finally, the General struggled to get off his horse.

  “Do you have clothes that fit me?” Biloben said as he sat on the ground holding his head. “I didn’t think I could hold together for very long once Cimet took away whatever the Winnowers put in my mind.”

  “A compulsion spell,” Pol said. “It’s a ward, actually.”

  “You taught my brother how to do it?”

  “We did.”

  “You are very brave to do such a thing. Cimet can be unpredictable at times.”

  Cimet giggled behind them. “I saved you from them, didn’t I?”

  “You did, my wonderful brother.” Ben looked up at Pol. “Do you have any water? I have to shake this headache off before I can properly talk to you.”

  Shira brought him some water while Pol rummaged through his saddlebags.

  “You can change into this shirt. You can wear your trousers and boots. Mine won’t fit, and you’re a bit bigger around the middle than Cimet.” Pol looked at Cimet brushing down his horse, humming away. Even Pol wouldn’t fit in trousers that narrow.

  Ben nodded, draining the waterskin over his head. “Ah, that’s better. I’m glad Cimet knew me.”

  “We probably would have gotten around to removing your compulsion—” Shira said.

  “But they would have just spelled me into their tool again, wouldn’t they? You weren’t planning on sticking around, were you?”

  Pol shook his head. “No. Would you submit to a truth spell?”

  “I will if you will,” Ben said.

  “I don’t have much to hide.” He smiled nervously at Shira.

  “Go ahead. We don’t have much time, but the horses do need a rest.”

  Pol put the truth spell on Ben.

  “Were you the head General of the Winnower army?”

  “I was, and I’m glad you have just retired me.”

  “Do you support the Emperor?”

  “I do not, and that’s because of that little squirrel, Ranno Wissingbel. Why do you think I essentially became a hermit in Lake? I got tired of the demands he made of me.”

  “Do you want to overthrow the Empire?”

  “Certainly not, and I don’t want the Winnowers to take Hazett’s place. I’ll even work with Ranno if I have to. Hazett isn’t so bad of a person.”

  “He’s my adoptive father,” Pol said.

  “You’re the North Salvan?”

  Pol nodded. “I am. My father doesn’t know what to do with me, so I work for Ranno, too. We are doing some Seeking.”

  “Seeking is right. You don’t lack for guts, young man.” He turned to Shira standing above him. “So you must be the Shinkyan princess.”

  “You are well-informed for a hermit, Sir General,” Shira said.

  “Damned right I am. However, even hermits have a following, so I have to keep up on things. I stupidly agreed to meet with a Winnower. I was fully shielded, I thought. The next thing I knew I mounted my horse and headed north about six months ago, blissfully working for the Winnow Society.”

  “I can teach you an effective shield,” Pol said.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Ben said, looking back. “Maybe I’ll need one.”

  Pol smiled. “Your brother seems the opposite of you.”

  Ben sighed. “That is the truth of it. Our only real thing in common is we are both blessed with a great sense of the pattern. We were able to channel Cimet’s talent into healing. I went to Deftnis to learn the arts of war. Our father was an officer in the Imperial Army.”

  “What are your intentions regarding the Winnow Society?”

  “I want to crush them and burn their verminous bodies,” Ben said. “That is the truth, and you know it.”

  “I do,” Pol said. He took a deep breath and released the truth spell. “Your turn.”

  Ben grinned. “I’ll take it at another time when I wish. Consider it an investment in the future,” he said. “It’s time to leave. The Winnowers will follow us all the way to Yastan. We have to make it there to tell what they plan to do. It is so good to refer to them as ‘they’ rather than ‘we.'”

  “We’ll let Ranno know what happened later today.”

  “You have birds stashed away somewhere?”

  Cimet giggled. “Something better, brother.” He put a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret.”

  Ben growled as he rose and changed from his officer’s tunic to the shirt Pol gave him. “It’s time to go.”

  Pol mounted. “We are headed to your territory. Do you know the way well enough to stay off common paths and still beat the Winnowers to Yastan?”

  The ex-general shook his head. “The Winnowers are already in Yastan.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Ten

  ~

  “W hat?” Pol said.

  “The Imperial government is compromised. I don’t know names, but high-level magicians are secretly high-level Winnowers,” Ben said.

  “We need to move on, but when we stop for the night, you and I are going to have a conversation with Malden Gastoria.”

  “The Instrument’s assistant?�
�

  “An old friend.” Pol felt odd describing Malden that way, but he had known Malden for nearly ten years.

  The four of them continued after their rest, pausing a few times to send Shira into a few villages to build up their supplies and free the inhabitants from mind-control. They finally stopped in a wood.

  Cimet gathered branches for a fire, while Shira sorted out their food supplies to cook a hot meal. Pol took Biloben to a fallen log, carrying his rune book.

  “These dots are wards. When activated, they glow here and on a matched book that Malden has.”

  Ben leaned over and touched the dots. “Did you invent this?”

  “No,” Pol said. “The Zasosians use these to communicate with nomadic tribes.”

  “That’s where you went when you disappeared?”

  Pol nodded. “I spent my time in Zasos and Kiria, the only two organized countries on Daera.”

  Pol took the stylus and began to write. “If Malden has his book open, we will get a quick reply. The Zasos technique consisted of symbols that even an illiterate person could read. I thought up the dots so words could be communicated more easily. It’s more flexible for what we are doing.”

  “What did you learn in Daera?” Ben said.

  Pol finished his message as he began to relate what his experiences were like and what he had learned about the cultures of the two countries and the biases of the Kirians. He stopped when the glow vanished from the page.

  “Malden received our note.”

  The page glowed with a few questions for Ben.

  “He wants to know if I am me,” the ex-general said, nodding his head. “I’d do the same.”

  They began to converse. Malden asked most of the questions, but Ben asked a few about the state of things in Yastan before dropping the alarming information about magicians being swayed by the Winnow Society.

  Makes sense, Malden said. It answers a few questions on how they got into the city.

  “They were already there,” Ben said, before writing. He gave Malden troop dispositions and the size of each army.

  Different handwriting appeared on the page.

  “You can even tell who is communicating!” Ben said. He asked who had just written the next question.

  Ranno, you fool. You should have never left. I apologize for anything I have done to you in the past. Please come to Yastan and talk to Hazett. The page went blank before Pol had a chance to do so from his end.

  “I didn’t think Ranno was a magician!” Pol said.

  “Of course, he is. Not particularly good, but he evidently has enough power to excite the rune wards,” Ben said. “He doesn’t advertise it. Anything the old coot can do to gain an advantage.”

  The feud disappointed Pol. The Empire needed both men as they prepared to fight an awful foe.

  “Are you going to refuse to come?” Pol said.

  Biloben shook his head. “No. This is bigger than a squabble between two rivals.”

  After a few more messages, Pol signed off.

  Shira had them wait a few more minutes for their impromptu stew to finish.

  Pol winced when he took his first spoonful. “This is truly trail food,” he said.

  ~

  They finally chanced an inn a day’s ride into Lake using roads that Ben knew. Pol looked at his book for a message and found one from Hay. They had done their work in Armies Five and Six, and the entire combined camps turned into chaos.

  Some soldiers retrieved their ‘volunteered’ mounts and headed out, while others fought magicians and those whose minds hadn’t been freed. In the midst it all, the magicicans tried to re-establish mind-control. The distraction made leaving easy. They had left no more than an hour after Pol and headed to Yastan.

  “We shouldn’t wait for them, if that is what you are thinking,” Ben said. “If the Winnowers are looking for anyone, it is me, and I’d rather not let anyone know what roads we’ll be using.”

  Pol nodded. “They’ll end up at the Seeker’s inn at the Office of the Instrument.”

  ~

  A week later, they entered Yastan on the eastern side of town to confuse Winnower observers. Shira taught Cimet how to disguise his looks. None of them looked anything like themselves. Pol even changed their horses’ colors a few days out from the capital.

  They rode into the Instrument’s offices after having some difficulty entering the Imperial Compound until Pol produced his Seeker badge.

  “I’m not going to like facing Wissingbel after all this time,” Biloben said.

  Once inside the compound, they all changed into their natural faces. Demeron insisted that he get his black coat back.

  Pol took them to Ranno’s office.

  “Biloben,” Ranno said, opening his door. “Come in.” He shut the door on the rest of them. Pol, Shira, and Cimet waited for a quarter-hour for the door to open again. By that time, Malden had joined them.

  “I think we need a conference room,” Malden said. “I’ll get Akonai and a few others.”

  Ranno nodded his head and led them to a room big enough for all. Akonai arrived with drinks and pastries of some kind that Pol had never seen before.

  “Go on. Tell us all,” Ranno said.

  Pol recounted the trip in as much detail as he could. He did not like talking about killing the Winnowers on the trail, but he did. Ranno and Akonai took notes along with two other men Pol did not know.

  Ben rose and told his story. This time Pol scribbled a few notes about details that were missing from what the ex-general had told Pol.

  At the end, Ranno tapped his finger on the table. “Now the difficult question. Who leads the Winnowers in Yastan?”

  Ben pursed his lips. “You aren’t going to like this. You really aren’t going to like this.”

  “I haven’t liked anything that you or Pol has told me, so far. Make me feel worse.”

  “The Imperial Magician is among the top Winnow Society leaders,” Ben said solemnly. “He wanted me to join him, but I refused.”

  Ranno jumped up. “I knew it! Didn’t I, Malden? It fits my pattern,” he said.

  “That only you can really see,” Malden said, drily. “I bow to your wonderment.”

  Ranno laughed. “I’ll accept that absurd apology. That’s why you didn’t tell me in my office, isn’t it?”

  Ben nodded.

  “Wanted to make a big splash,” Ranno said.

  “I did, didn’t I? The bad part is what do we do about it?”

  “Namion Threshell must be friends with him,” Pol said.

  “Who?” Ben looked at Pol.

  “An ex-Seeker, who quickly got a job when he reached Yastan and learned a protective ward that he never knew before,” Pol said.

  He looked at Shira who nodded. “It bothered me, too,” she said. “How could he connect so quickly once Ranno disconnected him from his organization?”

  “He might still be in the city, then?” Akonai said.

  “Most certainly. If Namion has a sponsor like the Imperial Magician, he can hide in all kinds of places. There are two academies and a monastery under the magician’s supervision outside the Imperial compound,” Malden shook his head. “It’s always right there when you see it from behind.”

  “The pattern shifts,” Pol said. “Or I should say our perception of the pattern shifts. What can you do, Ranno?”

  The Instrument sighed. “Hazett has changed recently. He loves his Imperial Magician, and he doesn’t take the threat seriously. It will take quite a story to change the Emperor’s mind.”

  “I’ll try,” Pol said. “I am his son, after all.”

  “Sons aren’t always believed.”

  “We’ll see. Let’s not proclaim that Biloben is with us,” Pol said.

  “Very well,” Ranno said. “Your Father will want to see you as soon as you can get into clean clothes.”

  ~

  Hazett summoned Pol to his study before he had a chance to request a time to meet. He stepped into the Imperial Pal
ace, knowing the way. Pol stood at the outrageously ornate facade waiting for his father to let him in.

  An older man dressed in shiny gray robes walked out as Pol waited. The man looked Pol over. “Pol?” he said.

  “I am, and you are?”

  “Mind your own business.” He swished his silvery robes and stalked off.

  “Come in, Pol.”

  Pol looked back at the angry old man as he walked in.

  “Did you have a chance to meet Grimwell, my Imperial Magician?”

  Pol nodded. “He wasn’t very happy.”

  “Especially with you, it seems. Grimwell found out that you disrupted certain activities in West Huffnya.”

  “That was my intention.”

  “Indeed. Grimwell has connections to the Winnow Society.”

  Pol made sure the doors were shut. “He has more than connections. He is a Winnow Society leader.”

  “Impossible,” Hazett said. “I find it an impossibility.”

  “Can I give you a hug?”

  Hazett looked at Pol with suspicion in his eye. “Are you going to check for mind control?”

  “You caught me. I am. Indulge me, if you will.”

  Hazett spread his arms. “A hug first,” he said smiling.

  Pol let the Emperor put his arms around him, and Pol hugged back. He did not feel deserving of the regard his adoptive father gave him.

  “My turn,” Pol said. He kept his arms around his father and looked at his brain, which looked perfectly clear, but something did not seem right about him. Pol used his locator sense and found something down lower in the Emperor’s neck. “Face away from me.”

  “You found something?”

  “I think I did.” Pol had to put his hand on the Emperor’s neck, and there it was. He saw a tiny blue circle with a brown wiggly stripe. It looked like a worm. “I found a tiny compulsion ward. I think you better sit down, I’m going to be very careful when I remove it.”

  He thought he saw something else added to the ward. This one was woven. Pol began by working on the worm that sat on top. It was not a single thing but looked more like a braid. Pol did not dare rip it off. He stepped back.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m going to summon two magicians who can see wards. I don’t want to remove this alone.” Pol opened the door and called for a guard. He summoned Malden and Cimet to attend him.