The Heresy Within

by Rob J. Hayes

  Again Thanquil said nothing. The girl was watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to confirm. No doubt word of an Arbiter's arrival would spread through the city like wildfire soon enough. Information was, as ever, worth its weight in gold.

  “Gimme my bronze bit.”

  Thanquil reached into one of the many pockets of his coat and pulled out a small bronze coin. He twirled it in his fingers and the girl watched it with greedy eyes. “You get the coin when I get where I'm going, girl.”

  Chade was not a small city and was split into four different quarters; the docks, the craftsman's terrace, Goldtown and Oldtown. The girl explained to Thanquil that on foot it could take near half a day to walk from one side to the other. Thanquil decided he was thankful the craftsman terrace was not all that far from the docks.

  They passed all manner of shops, workhouses, warehouses, dwellings, inns and watchtowers. Guards were everywhere in abundance and all watched with a hungry eye. The girl claimed the city employed thousands of guards and Thanquil could well believe it. Slaves were in even greater abundance. Some were beaten, some were chained and all were collared and marked. The men had their owners brand seared into their left cheek while the women had it on their left hand.

  Thanquil wasn't unaccustomed to seeing slaves, Sarth was built on the backs of those whose lives were owned by others, but he'd never seen folk treated so poorly before. They were dressed in rags and many went barefoot. Some were made to carry goods for their owners, some were carrying the owners themselves in huge ornate litters and all in the merciless afternoon sun. It struck Thanquil that most horses were treated better than the slaves here in Chade.

  The girl didn't lie about knowing the way; she led Thanquil to his destination. The house was indeed in the craftsman's terrace and not twenty paces from the guildhall where all manner of folk were gathered in the hope of finding a day’s work.

  The house bore the symbol of an Inquisition safe-house and so Thanquil tossed the girl her bronze coin and she was gone before he could even say his thanks. He climbed the steps with a sigh and knocked and waited. It was an unassuming house; small, built of stone but then most in the craftsman's terrace seemed to be, heavy wooden door, two windows that looked to be boarded from the inside. Thanquil knocked again and again waited. Still no answer.

  “You one o' them Arbiters?” A voice came from behind. Thanquil turned to find a cloaked figure staring up at him with wary eyes. The man coughed into a bandaged hand.

  “I'm wearing an Arbiter's coat,” Thanquil replied.

  “Bit o' fancy leather don't make you nothin'. You want in there ya need ta prove ya an Arbiter.”

  Thanquil ground his teeth together. He hated asking questions. “And who should I prove it to?”

  “Me,” the man at the bottom of the steps said. Then he shivered and nodded at Thanquil. “It's been a while since I felt the compulsion; it's still just as unpleasant as ever. Sorry about the test, Arbiter. We've had people pretend to be members of the Inquisition in the past.” He stood up to his full height and threw back his cloak to reveal a suit of dark red silk beneath.

  “I am Arbiter Thanquil Darkheart. You would be the clerk assigned to Chade.”

  “Yes, Arbiter,” the man said, his wilds accent replaced by born and bred Sarth. He climbed the steps and put a key to the lock. “Clerk Moin. Anything you need don't hesitate to ask.”

  Inside the building was well maintained but austere. It would serve its purpose, a place for Thanquil to sleep for a night. “I will need food and a bed for the night, clerk Moin. Tomorrow you will direct me to the council chambers, after that I will find myself an inn to sleep in for the remainder of my stay. I will return here only if I need more coin.”

  “As you wish, Arbiter Darkheart. Oh and welcome to Chade.”

  The Black Thorn

  “Welcome to Chade.”

  Weren't the first time Betrim had been the Chade and fact was he was no more impressed with it this time than the last. He shoved aside the little merchant who had welcomed him and looked around. Too hot, too many guards, too many merchants, too much salt in the air, too damned busy.

  “Never been ta Chade 'fore,” Green said staring in open mouthed wonder at the spectacle.

  “We figured that from the first hundred times ya said so,” Bones said with a sigh.

  Betrim had thought that two days cooped up in a building with the crew was bad, two weeks stuck on a boat with them had been far worse. Bones had somehow managed to befriend a legion of rats that had swarmed around him squeaking for food. Henry and the Boss had been going at it hammer and tongs for what seemed like the entire journey and seeing as how the entire crew was stuck in one cabin there was fuck all in the way of privacy. Green had spent the whole journey staring daggers at Betrim when he thought the Black Thorn wasn't watching. The boy couldn’t have known that Betrim had eyes in the back of his head. Swift had been the only bearable member and that was because he spent the majority of the time absent. He had somehow managed to get his way into the beds of all four of the ship's female crew including the Captain's wife. Fact was it was a miracle Swift hadn't gotten them all thrown overboard.

  The Boss finished talking to the Captain, jumped down onto the wood of the pier, shouldered his way through his crew and then turned to face them all. “Here it is. I know you all been holed up an' patient but ain't no enjoyin' the city's sights jus' yet. Bones, take Green an' find us a place ta stay; somewhere quiet an' close ta one of the gates would be good.”

  “We gonna be needin' ta make a quick exit, Boss?” Bones asked in his deep tones.

  “Always a possibility. Swift, go put ya ear ta the ground. I wanna know anythin' an' everythin' that's happenin' in Chade.”

  “Would be easier with a few bits ta grease a palm or two, Boss.”

  “When are things ever easy? Henry, take Thorn an' get us some supplies. We ain't got much left so use what bits ya got sparse. I gotta go meet a man 'bout a job. Ya all know the Sailor's Penny?”

  “Aye.”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  “Mhm.”

  “No.”

  “Good. Be there at sundown.”

  With that the crew split up into their groups. Betrim found Henry grinning up at him. “What?” he asked giving her a push hard enough to make her stumble.

  “Ya red is showin'.”

  Betrim ran a dirty hand through his greasy mess of hair. She was right. He hadn't dyed his hair in near a month. “Reckon we bes' find me some Eccan nuts then.”

  She shook her head, still grinning in that wolfish way, pretty teeth showing behind her scarred lips. “Boss said sparse.” She started walking. “Red Thorn's got a bit of a ring ta it though.”

  Chade always brought back memories and not many of them the good kind. After killing his second Arbiter Betrim stowed away on a boat and ended up in the free city. Back then he'd been nothing but a nameless boy still wet behind the ears and with only a hand-full of kills to his count. Off the boat for all of five minutes and guards had tried to take him. Betrim had stabbed one in the groin and fled. After that he spent near a year working on a heavy crew, guarding some merchant's warehouses. He was the youngest and greenest of the crew and two of the bigger lads seemed to take it personal. More than once he'd been beaten and robbed after getting paid and more than once he'd gone hungry because of it. Then one day both lads had woken up with their throats cut. That had earned Betrim some respect among the crew.

  There was an Arbiter in Chade too. Betrim's fifth. Never knew the name, couldn’t even remember the face but he remembered the kill. He stalked the man for two days, watching, waiting. Then, in the market Betrim had walked up behind the Arbiter and shoved a long curved knife up under his rib cage into his chest. Left the knife in his back and walked away before anyone knew something was up. Cleanest Arbiter kill he'd ever done that one, certainly better than burning down an entire town.

  “You alright?” Henry asked. She was staring at him. “
Ya got a look about ya.”

  “Rememberin' is all. Been stabbed twice here in Chade.”

  “I know,” she replied with a grin.

  “First one was a boy 'bout same age as Green. Trying ta make a name fer himself, I reckon. Missed my vitals though, the dumb fuck, so I took his head off.”

  “I never miss.”

  “You did. Got the scar ta prove it.”

  Henry grinned at him again. “I never miss.”

  Betrim snorted. The market was just ahead, he could see it already. It was as close to hell as he remembered. Full of people, full of smells, full of noise, full of dangers. People died all the time in the markets of Chade. Some during fights over prices or some such, some over thieving, some just tripped and got trampled though they were mostly the little ones, children or women or such.

  A hundred different spices or more filled the air with their fragrance, coming together to form something close to a cloying stench. The noise was deafening, people shouting this way or that, selling, buying, accusing, it made no difference. The crowds packed in on all sides, a mass of human flesh being ground together. That was the problem with the market, or with markets in general as far as Betrim was concerned. You couldn't smell anyone coming, couldn't hear them coming, couldn't see them coming. Dangerous places were markets.

  “So what're we doin' here?” he asked Henry over the clamour.

  “Like Boss said, supplies.”

  “Food?”

  Henry laughed. “You want food ask Bones ta gather ya up some rats.”

  Betrim nodded to that. “Meat is meat.”

  “We need supplies fer a job. Whatever this big one is Boss got lined up we don't have the bits ta pull it off as of now. He'll rustle us up somethin' small first, somethin' as will pay our way. Keep us supplied, keep you an' Swift in whores 'till we done.”

  “Ya could jus' open ya legs fer him, save some bits,” Betrim said with a grin of his own, it was not returned.

  “I'd rather fuck Green than that half-blood bastard.”

  Henry knew what they needed and knew where to go so Betrim was happy to just follow. After the first merchant it was clear why the Boss had sent them both. Henry was well known in Chade and the Black Thorn was well known everywhere and both were the type of names that commanded a healthy dose of fear. Merchants were less inclined to haggle up when the customer had a habit of killing folk for fun. Not that Betrim had ever really killed for fun but a long time ago he'd decided never to argue against his own reputation.

  So it was that by sun down they had procured everything on Henry's list and for a fair deal less than they were worth. Betrim had even managed to make a merchant throw in a handful of Eccan nuts to dye his hair. The paste he'd make from them would smell like shit for a few days but it was better than having a head full of flaming red locks as far as he was concerned.

  The Boss was late and when he did arrive his scowl was even deeper than usual. “Ya find us a place, Bones.”

  “Aye, jus' round corner in Oldtown. One previous tenant, long since dead an' rotting. Got rid o' the corpse but Green threw up.”

  “Fuck, Bones. Ya said ya wouldn't say owt.”

  “Aye, I did say that.”

  “Enough,” the Boss' tone was terse and dangerous. “Lead the way.”

  Bones wasn't wrong about their new home, had a smell to it that said 'dead person' but it was nothing they hadn't all lived with before. It was a single-floored wooden shack with a secure roof and two bedrooms complete with beds. Luxury living as far as they were all concerned.

  “What've ya got fer us, Swift,” the Boss asked when they had all settled down.

  “Lots of bad an' good. There's an Arbiter in town.”

  All eyes turned to Betrim, he said nothing, just continued grinding the Eccan nuts to powder.

  “Might not be after you, Thorn,” the Boss said.

  “Will be once they find out I'm here. Best we get the job done an' get out while we can.” He'd run to the wilds to get away from the Arbiters but seemed they were everywhere these days.

  “Well good news is our escapades in Korral stayed in Korral,” Swift continued. “No prices on any of us. The blooded are at war again but shouldn't make much difference here in Chade. Oh and Bones' wife is in town.”

  Bones' head snapped up in an instant and Betrim saw that panicked look in his eye that Bones only got when Beth was nearby. “Any chance we can head back ta Korral, Boss?”

  “I got us a job,” the Boss said but even Betrim could tell he didn't seem too happy about it.

  “That's why we're here ain't it?” Swift asked.

  “Not the big one, gonna need some bits 'fore we can do that. Another job, a few of 'em as it happens.” He paused and, for the first time since he'd met him, Betrim could see the Boss was nervous. “It's working fer Deadeye.”

  “Boss...” Bones started.

  “That ain't a good idea,” Swift finished.

  Betrim kept quiet and Henry did the same but she didn't look happy. Deadeye was possibly the only name in the wilds carried more weight than Betrim's. Even Green was silent.

  “She here? In Chade,” Betrim asked.

  “Not yet but she will be.”

  “Deadeye don't go nowhere without an army,” Henry put in.

  “Armies ain't allowed in Chade,” Swift responded.

  “Not all of it, no, but she'll get some of it in.”

  “None of us ever crossed her have we?” Bones asked. All eyes turned to Betrim.

  “I ain't. Only met her the once an' that was 'fore the whole eye thing.”

  “Way I hear it not having crossed her never stopped her from killin' folk,” Swift said.

  “Enough.” The Boss' voice was quiet but full of threat, enough threat to silence four of the biggest names in the wilds. “I've already taken the job. It'll get us the bits an' it'll get us where we need ta be. Good.”

  The silence held for a while as each of them came to terms with the idea of working for Deadeye. Green was the one to break the quiet. “What's the job?”

  The Boss glared at the boy. “Deadeye wants someone breakin' out o' gaol.”

  The Arbiter

  “Arbiter Thanquil Darkheart.”

  Thanquil was tired of people saying his name. It should have been a heady pleasure, after all his name was said in some powerful circles these days but he was learning the more your name was said in powerful circles the more those powerful circles want from you.

  He ignored the announcer and strode into the audience chamber with his head held high and a crystal wine stopper in his pocket. No one would miss it for a while and they'd never suspect an Arbiter to have stolen it anyway. Besides, red wine was supposed to breathe.

  The audience chamber was a long room with gaudy decorations in abundance. Blood red carpets, white silk curtains on the windows, two hearths both resplendent in their ornate golden scroll-work and both oversized, one was to Thanquil's far right and the other to his far left. In front of Thanquil was a desk, a huge wooden monstrosity stacked with papers, charts, trinkets and coins and behind the desk sat four men.

  The announcer stepped up beside Thanquil and spoke again. “Lord Farin Colth.” The man on the far left nodded once setting his multiple chins wobbling. Rarely had Thanquil ever seen a man as fat as Lord Farin. He wore a rich silk suit of blue on gold with decorative sweat stains. Golden jewellery adorned his hands and wrists and he wore a single silver bell in each ear. Thanquil knew if he could just get to shake the man's hand he could take one of the golden rings.

  “Lord Xho.” The man next to Lord Farin couldn't have been more different. Black skin instead of white. Gaunt instead of fat and hard instead of soft. The man wore a simple brown tunic and his only jewellery was a wooden bar through the top of his nose. He looked at Thanquil with small, dark eyes. Once such a stare might have cowed Thanquil but after meeting with the Grand Inquisitor, Lord Xho seemed about as terrifying as a puppy.

  “Alfer To'an.” Tall an
d plump with girlish features. Thanquil would have bet all the contents of his pockets he was a eunuch. He wore a rich blue robe with black lace-work and a silver ring on each finger. He smiled towards Thanquil in a way that reminded the Arbiter of a cat smiling at a mouse.

  “And speaking for Captain Drake Morrass, Belper Froth.” The man on the far right was tall, lean and looked more sailor than city ruler. He wore a white sailor's shirt and no jewellery save a single stud in his right ear. His face was well tanned and tattooed around his left eye.

  The announcer bowed and stepped backwards. Thanquil looked at each of the men in turn. “So Captain Morrass sends a lackey in his place.” After the words were out of his mouth Thanquil decided lackey may have been a poor choice.

  The eunuch giggled and then spoke in his high, feminine voice. “Oh most assuredly. Our Drake is rarely present. No doubt out pirating, or lately I hear he's managed to wriggle his way into the Dragon Empress' bed.”

  “Probably both knowing him,” said the fat man on the far left.

  “I see,” Thanquil said and then bowed his head a little. “Well, my Lords. On behalf of the Inquisition, and as per your request, I am at your service.”

  “Never had an Arbiter at my service before,” the fat man said.

  “I was hopin' for an Inquisitor myself.” From the pirate on the far right.

  “I assure you I am much more agreeable than any of the Inquisitors. They tend to be all doom and gloom and if one of them were here at least two of you would be on fire by now.” Thanquil said with a smile. It made the powerful circle in front of him pause as they started to wonder which two.

  “Not here for words, witch hunter,” said Lord Xho. His eyes had not left Thanquil for a moment since entering. “You have job.”

  “Yes, of course. You have a woman locked up and you want me to interrogate her...”