The Heresy Within

by Rob J. Hayes

  Betrim came awake at the touch and fumbled for a weapon that wasn't there. It was cold, dark and cloudy but not too dark to see Henry crouched in front of him holding his axe. Her fierce little face stared into his ugly scarred one and she raised a finger to her lips, then moved it to her ear, then pointed off to her left. Betrim frowned, grabbed his axe and strained his ears. Horses. More than one, less than a lot.

  Betrim's frown grew even deeper and he nodded at Henry. She was still crouched over him, straddling him almost in a way that might have got his blood going once but not anymore, not with Henry. She winked at him and stalked off to wake Bones, as silent as a cat and twice as dangerous.

  Crouching down low, near crawling, Betrim followed the sounds of the horses. Less than a hundred feet he could hear voices, soft and quiet, whispers almost. He found the Boss and Swift belly down and watching the little camp with the horses from a slight rise.

  Boss had said no fires while they were travelling and now Betrim was glad. Riders following their trail could mean many things and not many of them good. He slithered up the rise on his belly and stopped next to the Boss.

  Not twenty feet away Betrim could see a small camp fire, bright flames licking up at a hastily constructed spit with some small animal cooking away. He made sure not to look at the light, best to keep his night vision in case killing was needed. He counted ten horses the other side of the fire not even tied up by the looks. They looked well-bred but expensive horseflesh tasted no better than cheap horseflesh and Betrim had never got on with riding. All that bouncing around in the saddle gave him sore stones. Some of the men in the little camp were sleeping, some attending the spit and the one meant to be keeping a look out kept glancing at the fire. Chances are the fool couldn't see more than two feet in this darkness.

  Betrim looked at the Boss and made the sign for 'kill'. The Boss stared back for a second, deciding, then shook his head. He pointed two fingers towards the west and nodded. Betrim began slithering back down the rise and the Boss followed a few moments later. Swift would stay for a while, watching and waiting before joining up with the rest of the crew. He was the fastest of them and near as quiet as Henry.

  She was waiting for them just down the rise, her short, spiky, dust coloured hair shooting off at all angles, her scar, as always, tugging her lip up on the right side into a permanent sneer, dark eyes watching them as they approached. Again the Boss made the two fingered signal for moving west and Henry nodded, turning and walking with them towards the camp.

  Green was taking a piss against an old dead tree stump when they got back. He yawned, shook himself a few times and then put his cock away before turning back to the others and opening his mouth to speak. The Boss grabbed the boy by the leathers and pulled him close, shaking his head in a real threatening manner. Green looked beyond scared and truth was Betrim could understand. The Black Thorn would never admit it but the Boss scared even him sometimes. Letting go of Green with a shove the big southerner picked up his pack and started west. Henry grinned and followed. Green, no doubt glad that he'd pissed before the Boss had grabbed him, picked up his own pack and shuffled off after them at a respectful distance.

  Betrim found Bones sitting on a rock staring at some huge beetle he'd found from somewhere. The thing was as big as Betrim's fist, the one with a full set of five fingers. Its body had a blue-black sheen to it and a huge horn stuck out from its head and split into two at the end. It was wandering its way up Bones' arm and he seemed more than happy to sit there watching it with a big stupid grin on his face.

  After watching for a few moments Betrim poked Bones with his foot and nodded West. The big man nodded, shouldered his pack and started off, taking the giant beetle with him. Betrim waited for a minute and after a while Swift came padding along. He picked up his own pack, flashed a stolen dagger at Betrim and followed the rest of the group.

  Betrim took one last look towards the faint orange glow of the camp of men and horses that had almost stumbled onto them and hoped that the Arbiter wasn't among them. Then he picked up his pack and started off at a jog the same way the rest had gone.

  The Arbiter

  The capital city Sarth. In the holy empire of Sarth. Not for the first time Thanquil wondered at the lack of originality of naming one's capital city after the kingdom but then he supposed the original settlers had their reasons.

  It was a beautiful city; clean streets, tall white marble buildings sprouting from the cobbles below, high walls with thousands of uniformed guard patrols all in white. Churches on every other street, each one towering over its neighbouring buildings while looking down on everyone through stained glass windows depicting scenes of righteous glory. Thin intersecting canals full of crystal clear sea water and populated with long, slim boats floating along all at a calm, unrushed pace. Some were full of goods being transported to who knew where, some were full of people being transported to who knew where else, some might have just been out for pleasure given the type of day it was.

  Sarth, the city of sun. A port town with little rain and constant, hot sunshine beating down on all its inhabitants. Above it all, at the centre of the city, rising far up into the sky was the imperial palace. Built of shining white marble and glass windows and maintained by a thousand slaves, the palace and all its ten spires were the centre piece in the magnificent view that was Sarth.

  A beautiful city and no mistake, as long as you stayed to the richer areas. For those not lucky enough to own a fortune or be the favoured nobility there were the poorer areas. Wooden shacks, occasional grey stone buildings for official purposes; guard barracks, gaols, guildhalls and the like. Streets as filthy as any backwater slum, not a hint of marble or glass in sight and patrolled by both guards and pickpockets in almost equal number. Beggars, thieves, drunkards, cripples, whores, layabouts, slaves and thugs, not to mention the common people struggling to make an honest living. Sarth had a pretty face but underneath its expensive ball gown it was a pox ridden whore like any other.

  Thanquil preferred the poorer areas of the city; it felt more honest, more real. He fit in better with the confessed criminals rather than merchants who robbed you blind and convinced you they were doing you a favour. Even down here in the slums, though, people gave him a wide berth. Guard patrols nodded with formality and moved away. Thieves snuck away into shadows and stared through cautious eyes. Pedlars fell into an awkward silence and looked away. It was all quite comical; as if Arbiters had nothing better to do than hunt down petty criminals for petty crimes or question common folk about their non-heretical inner most desires. Still, it was nice to be able to walk down the centre of a road and have people scramble to get out of your way. Thanquil would have grinned but it might have ruined the image.

  “They all respect you.” Thanquil had almost forgotten the girl was there. She was such a quiet little thing, barely said a word in a week, just stared at Thanquil in wonder when she thought he wasn't watching.

  “They all fear me. There's a difference.”

  “Will they fear me?”

  Thanquil stopped and turned towards the girl. He wasn't about to admit it but it was fun to force the traffic on the street to walk around him.

  “Listen... um... girl,” Thanquil began.

  “Freya.”

  “Right. Freya. You have two choices here. I agreed with Arbiter Prin I would bring you to Sarth and I've done that. You're here. Congratulations.”

  “I...”

  Thanquil interrupted her before she could start speaking; last thing he wanted was an actual conversation with the girl. “I never agreed to take you to the Inquisition. So you can walk away right now and try to have a normal life here in Sarth,” he wasn't about to point out that a ten year old girl on her own in the slums of Sarth would live a short and painful life, most of it on her back, “or you can come with me and I'll hand you over to the initiate trainers.”

  “Arbiter Prin said...”

  “Arbiter Prin no doubt told you the Inquisition is a righteou
s calling and you'll be bathed in holy light and every day of your life will be filled with untold joy. He lied. Initiate training is long, hard and painful and at the end of it, IF you do manage to attain the rank of Arbiter, you'll have a lonely, bloody, violent life to look forward to. Being feared isn't all it's cracked up to be. Look around you do you see any smiles pointed my way. No. If you choose to follow the path of an Arbiter get used to it.”

  “Can't be any worse than my life so far,” the girl said defiance plain in her voice. A ten year old girl without parents in one of the border towns would have already had a hard life.

  “Don't be so sure,” Thanquil replied, always having to have the last word. “I'm going to start walking now. Your choice; follow me or just walk away.”

  Thanquil started walking again and a moment later the girl stepped up beside him, eyes staring straight ahead and a grim set to her mouth. Already an Arbiter in the making it seemed.

  “Welcome to the Inquisition,” Thanquil said to the girl.

  The girl looked around with her jaw well and truly dropped. She'd been staring around in wide-eyed open wonder ever since they entered the richer areas of the city, marvelling at the grandeur of it all. Now she laid her eyes upon the true heart of Sarth, the Inquisition.

  Thanquil wasn't sure whether the city and the kingdom of Sarth had formed around the Inquisition or whether Volmar had chosen Sarth when he created the Inquisition. Thanquil wasn't sure it even mattered any more. What he did know was that the Inquisition compound was bloody impressive, even to someone who had lived there for twenty years of his life.

  While much of Sarth was designed and built to be bright and gleaming white, the buildings in the Inquisition were built out of jagged black rock. A huge fortress took centre stage, its single tower almost as tall as the imperial palace only without the spires. Multiple halls, some for meetings, some for training, some for storage, some for eating, some for almost any purpose imaginable. Barracks to house visiting Arbiters, those like Thanquil who rarely came back, who spent most of their time wandering the world, routing out heresy. Countless other buildings, the purposes of which Thanquil had never discovered all crowded the immense compound and all penned in by forty foot walls on every side.

  “Is this where I'll be living now?” the girl asked.

  “No. Not yet anyway. The training compound is outside of the city but they'll probably keep you here a few days for testing.”

  “Testing?”

  “Aptitude testing, to discover your potential.”

  “Oh.”

  “This way.” Thanquil started off towards one of the nearby buildings he knew to contain clerks and servants. While not true members of the Inquisition they would have a better idea of what to do with the girl than Thanquil did.

  Servants, slaves and other Arbiters ran to and fro on all manner of errands. It always amazed Thanquil just how many Arbiters stayed within the Inquisition. At any one time there was a small army worth within the grounds, as if Arbiters had nothing better to do than laze around in the relative comfort here when there was so much heresy out in the world.

  Thanquil opened the door to the building and stepped through. There, sitting behind a desk, was an old clerk Thanquil knew all too well.

  “Arbiter Darkheart,” the old clerk said with a sneer.

  “Clerk Donic,” Thanquil responded in a formal tone.

  “Senior Clerk Donic.”

  “You are looking quite senior,” Thanquil replied and it wasn't untrue. Senior Clerk Donic was tall, lean, wrinkled, had been on the hairless side of balding for at least twenty years and had a face that looked like it was slipping to the left, as if all his features were trying to flee the centre of his face.

  “As disrespectful as ever I see, Arbiter Darkheart,” the clerk shot back.

  “I assure you, Senior Clerk Donic, I have nothing but the utmost respect for all those who deserve it.”

  The noise that emitted from the clerk's mouth sounded a little like a growl. “Why are you here, Arbiter Darkheart?”

  “New recruit, she has potential,” Thanquil said with cheer and gave the girl a light push in the back so she stumbled into the room.

  Senior Clerk Donic stood from behind the desk with a loud clicking of his knees and moved closer to the girl. The old clerk studied her for a moment, as if he himself could see her potential, and then nodded.

  “I'll take her from here, Arbiter,” the old man said and walked a few paces before turning to the girl and motioning for her to follow.

  The girl looked from the clerk to Thanquil and then back again. She looked terrified. Thanquil wrestled with his conscience for a moment and lost.

  “Freya,” he said and the girl turned to him, the poor thing looked close to panic. Thanquil reached inside one of his pockets and his hand closed on a small piece of metal, round with a silver chain attached to it. He took the necklace out of his pocket and pressed it into the girl's hand, hoping that the clerk wasn't paying too close attention.

  The girl looked at the necklace and her other hand went to her throat to check it was hers. She hadn't even noticed Thanquil had taken it.

  “Hide it and hide it well,” Thanquil whispered. “If they find it they'll take it away.”

  “Thank you,” the girl said with a nod.

  “Don't thank me,” Thanquil said sounding far more grim than he intended. “And whatever you do don't ever thank Arbiter Prin. You may think he's done you a service but by getting me to deliver you here he's cursed you.”

  “I don't understand.”

  Thanquil snorted out a humourless laugh. “You will. Now go. Best not to keep Senior Clerk Donic waiting, has a ruthless temper does that one.”

  Outside Thanquil found his dull eyed mare staring at him with accusing eyes. He'd have told the beast off but the last thing he needed was for other Arbiters to see him talking to his horse so instead he just took off towards the stables, the horse following behind him, silent and obedient.

  There wasn't much to do in the Inquisition for an Arbiter like Thanquil. It was one of the reasons he'd decided to become a wandering Arbiter rather than take a permanent position here. He deposited his little mare in the stables, stowed all his belongings on the first free bunk he could find, had a quick trip to the mess hall, then took to wandering around the compound.

  Outside in the courtyard he was confronted by another reason he'd taken to being a wandering Arbiter. Sideways glances, hushed whispers and plenty of dramatic head shaking all pointed in his direction by those he should have considered his brothers and sisters. It appeared even after spending twelve years out in the world routing out evil and purifying heretics he was still the outcast.

  “I'd heard you were back, Thanquil.” Even if he hadn't recognised the voice there was only one person in the entire Inquisition who used his first name.

  “Kosh,” Thanquil said with a grin and the two clasped hands in greeting. “Didn't expect to see you here. There's a whole world out there you know.”

  “That there is, but you don't get to be an Inquisitor without putting in some time here. I'm on guard duty these days, have been for near a year now. More boring work I've never known but I'm hoping one day it will all have been worth it.”

  Kosh had started initiate training at the same time as Thanquil and he'd graduated the same time as well. He was just a little bit taller than Thanquil and stockier to boot, blonde where Thanquil was dark brown and a good deal less scarred, many of those scars were given to Thanquil by Kosh in their sparring sessions.

  “What brings you back?” Kosh asked

  “Three years since I was last here,” Thanquil said, rubbing at the bump in his nose, the same one Kosh had broken so many years ago.

  “Ah, the three year review. Inquisitors like to make sure you're still on the righteous path.”

  “Aye,” Thanquil agreed. “No doubt they'll find some far flung corner of the world to send me to this time. Wouldn't do to have the black sheep of the family t
oo close to hand.”

  “Speaking of which, you being gone for three years you won't have met the new golden boy.” Kosh nodded towards a group of young Arbiters. “The one in the middle, graduated after just six years as an initiate.”

  “Six years... nobody's that good.”

  “Fastest anyone's done it but he earned it.” As Kosh spoke the Arbiter detached himself from his group and started walking away from them, straight towards Thanquil.

  “Best bit,” Kosh continued, “his name is Arbiter Hironous Vance.”

  “Inquisitor Vance's son,” Thanquil said with a shake of his head. “Well that makes sense I guess.”

  Arbiter Vance walked past Thanquil, no doubt headed towards the mess hall, or the barracks, or maybe one of a hundred locations. It was for the best, the last thing Thanquil needed was to come to the attention of the Grand Inquisitor's son.

  “Must be nice to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth.” It was almost as if someone else had spoken but with his voice. Thanquil bit down on his traitorous tongue.

  Arbiter Vance stopped, turned and looked at Thanquil. He was taller than Thanquil but then most people seemed to be, not skinny but then not muscled either. He wore his Arbiter coat and the robes underneath in immaculate condition. His hair was short and he had the air of a librarian about him, a librarian that moonlighted as a bounty hunter maybe. Worst of all was his eyes. Yellow eyes. Thanquil had never seen yellow eyes. They were unnerving to say the least but Thanquil refused to look away.

  “I don't believe we’ve met,” Arbiter Vance said in a calm voice, he had the gall not to look offended by Thanquil's comment in any way.

  “Thanquil,” Thanquil said.

  “Arbiter Darkheart?” Vance said.

  “Arbiter Vance,” Thanquil replied still wishing he'd never said anything in the first place.