The Heresy Within

by Rob J. Hayes

  They were nearing the front of the queue now. Soon the servants would check the Arbiter's invitation and then they would be inside, among the fancy folk and the finery and Jezzet would be one of them.

  Sounds like hell.

  She tried to distract herself by looking around the grounds. It seemed a wonder to her that she'd been to Chade a number of times, twice on the arm of D'roan, and didn't know such a place existed. The manse, though inside the city, was as big as a castle. Walls near thirty feet high surrounded the estate and all patrolled by a number of private guard, not of the city guard who were, it had to be said, notorious for their disloyalty.

  Crushed stone covered the courtyard and lined the pathways into the extensive and beautiful garden that, by the looks of things, surrounded the entire manor. Huge green bushes grew in straight lines and right angles, flowers of all colours she could name sprouted from select patches of dirt, artful lanterns hung over ornate benches and cast dancing shadows while attracting the flying, biting bugs that could be found near any water source.

  The manor itself was huge, almost as large as D'roan's own home had been. Built entirely of stone and glass windows with creeping green vines winding their way up the walls. The entrance was covered by a huge porch that was held up by two massive white pillars of stone each as thick as a tree and a good ten feet high. Jezzet was impressed despite herself, Arbiter Thanquil just looked bored.

  Likely he's seen it all and more before. No doubt Arbiters are invited to all the fancy places.

  It was easy to forget this was how the fancy folk lived even here in Chade. In the wilds life was hard, brutal, short, messy and bloody but there was also this. The blooded and the folk in the free cities that titled themselves 'Lord this' or 'Lady that' had money enough to spare and they knew how to spend it to make life grand and pretty. Still seemed a waste of bits to Jez.

  “Invitation,” the servant at the entrance said as Thanquil and Jezzet stepped to the front of the queue of fancy folk.

  “Arbiter Darkheart and guest,” Thanquil said with a pleasant smile.

  The servant nodded and smiled back. “Invitation,” he repeated.

  “Don't have one. I wasn't invited.”

  Jezzet noticed guards by each of the pillars, four men in total and all of them armed and dangerous-looking. The servant stopped smiling and addressed the Arbiter in the most polite of tones. “I'm afraid this is an invitation only...”

  “What's your name?”

  “Elgin, sir.”

  “I'm no sir, Elgin. I'm an Arbiter and I'll remember to mention to Lord Xho that his servant, Elgin, is responsible for his being investigated by the Inquisition. I'm sure he'll be most interested to know why you turned me away.”

  Elgin looked worried. No one wanted to be the focus of an investigation by the witch hunters, even someone living in one of the free cities. The Inquisition could make anyone's life a living hell and Jezzet wagered they weren't above the odd assassination.

  “Of course, Arbiter Darkheart,” Elgin said in a most pleasant tone again with a nervous smile gracing his plump, hairless lips. “Feel free to enter. Uh... your sword.”

  “Will stay sheathed by my side.”

  Again Elgin nodded and then stepped aside. Thanquil grinned at the man and entered the manor with Jezzet just half a step behind. Another servant awaited them inside and, with a formal bow, started to lead them to the great hall. Jezzet stuck close to Thanquil and picked up his arm with her own. She was certain she'd rather fight every guard in Chade than step into the great hall with all the fancy folk inside.

  “Would they really do that? The Inquisition. Would they investigate Xho for refusing you entry?”

  Thanquil chuckled. “The Inquisition has better things to do than investigate every Lord that lacks courtesy.”

  Again Jezzet was fast realising that while it may be impossible to lie to an Arbiter it wasn't impossible for an Arbiter to lie right back and this one seemed quite adept at twisting the truth.

  When the doors to the great hall opened the blast of sound and heat and colours and revelry stunned Jez. Music filled the hall, spilling out into the corridor in waves. The big room, which seemed all the bigger given her recent confinement in a cell, was lit by a hundred different sources. Ensconced torches lined the walls at regular intervals, a large hearth sat in the far side of the hall, roaring away to itself despite the heat. Three chandeliers hung from the ceiling each with dozens of flickering candles.

  The hall was already filled with guests and they were more colourful than the flowers in the gardens outside. Women in finery with giant frilly dresses or sleek skin hugging silk, some red, some blue, some yellow, some purple, some green, some orange, some colours Jezzet didn't know and didn't care to see ever again. One woman wore such a slim dress of skin colour that at first Jezzet had thought her to be naked. Only once she realised the woman had no nipples and no cunt between her legs did Jezzet notice she wore a dress.

  The men were almost as bad; suits of colours to match their partners or to match their livery. Compared to the fancy folk in the great hall she in her plain blue dress and the Arbiter in a quilted doublet of brown with his brown Arbiter's cloak looked more out of place than she could say. Like two ducks pretending to be peacocks.

  “Your mouth is open, Jezzet,” the Arbiter said from her arm. “It's not very lady-like.”

  “I'm not a lady, Thanquil,” Jezzet replied in a pointed tone but made an effort to close her mouth all the same as he escorted her into the hall.

  You've seen all this before, Jez. Just been so long in the wilderness you've forgotten what it's like. They may look so very fine but put the women on their backs and they'll moan like any cheap whore and men die just as easily in fine silks as they do armour. It's like D'roan said, 'It's all just a lie to make them think they're better than the rest of the wilds.' The thought brought some comfort but was diminished when Jezzet had to admit that D'roan was the biggest liar of them all.

  “Arbiter Darkheart and partner,” the announcer announced into the hall in a voice loud enough to carry over the music.

  Some sets of eyes turned to watch their entrance, more than Jezzet would have liked but by no means a lot. The women dismissed her at a glance while the men looked her up and down with appraising eyes. Jezzet Vel'urn had felt like many things before; a warrior, a thief, a murderer, a whore but never had she felt as cheap as when the men in this room looked at her. It made her angry; angry enough to do some damage. She started looking around for some cutlery. Then their gazes were gone, back to the women they were with, to the women they weren't with or to the men they were sharing cups with.

  “That was uncomfortable,” she whispered close to Thanquil's ear.

  “You're the most beautiful woman in the room, Jezzet. You're going to have to get used to a few stares,” the Arbiter said. He was looking about the hall through squinting eyes. “You served your purpose well.”

  “My purpose?” Jezzet found herself feeling angry though she couldn't say why.

  Thanquil glanced at her. “You didn't think I brought you here to show you a good time did you? With you on my arm not a single man or woman even noticed me.”

  Jezzet felt cheap again. He's right, Jez. He bought your life and freedom; what did you expect he wanted in return? All the same she almost tore her arm away from him and stormed away but something in his face stopped her. He looked... nervous.

  The Arbiter was sweating, his jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding back and forth and his eyes darted about in a mad dance over the fancy folk arrayed in front of him.

  “Are you alright?” she asked him.

  “I... uh... need to... there.” He started walking, near dragging her with him and stopped in front of a fat man in a suit of at least four different colours, each the more gaudy than the last. The fat man wore more gold than Jezzet had seen in her life. Golden rings on every finger, golden bracelets, golden studs in both his ears and nose, even a golden choker around his fl
abby neck. Seemed a pointless waste of wealth to Jezzet, one of those rings could feed a family for a month.

  Arbiter Thanquil held out his hand to the fat man as he greeted him. Jezzet had seen the like before, in some places the grasping of hands was a traditional form of greeting. In the wilds, however, it wasn't so. Men didn't want to touch another man, not skin to skin. The blooded folk had made such a habit of murdering each other that they had resorted to all sorts of devious tactics including rings containing a poison needle. One grasp of hands could well mean death for the unwary party.

  “Arbiter Darkheart,” Thanquil introduced himself. “I don't believe we met.”

  The fat man didn't even glance at Thanquil's hand and spent almost as little time looking at the Arbiter himself. He did, however, spend some time leering at Jezzet. The woman he was with also stared at Jez but with a great deal more hostility and great deal less lust. For a brief moment Jez considered reaching for the nearest spoon and attempting to gut them both but they turned and walked away before she could find a weapon.

  “What was that about?” she asked him in a whisper so close he must have felt her breath on his ear. It didn't faze him though; he didn't even seem to hear her. His eyes were still darting about in constant motion and Jez could swear his hand was shaking.

  “Wait here,” he instructed her and took his arm from hers before striding away. Jezzet watched as he stepped into the path of a hurrying servant carrying a tray of empty goblets. The two men collided and the servant wasted no time in bowing multiple times, begging apologies, scooping up the scattered goblets and speeding away.

  By the time Thanquil returned he had stopped sweating, stopped shaking and his eyes were calm again. His nervous, jittery energy seemed to have disappeared and he was back to his normal self.

  Nothing about this man is normal, Jez.

  “What was that about?” Jezzet asked again.

  He smiled at her as he once again took her arm with his own. “Oh nothing, it doesn't matter.” His other hand was buried deep in one of his coat's pockets. “We should introduce ourselves to Lord Xho. It is his ball after all.”

  Jezzet shook her head. “He won't be here, not yet. Maybe not at all. Those that throw these things tend to turn up late, after all the other guests have arrived. D'roan used to routinely not make an appearance at all. Used to just sit upstairs in his manor while the ball went on below. He used to say it showed his power over them. While it was going on we used to...” Jezzet trailed off, not wanting to talk about it and found Thanquil looking at her. “Why are we here anyway? Why am I here?”

  “I'm here because I need to talk to one of the council and this is the only way I can do so without the other three.”

  “Lord Xho?”

  “No. You're here for two reasons. The first you've already been more than successful at. With you on my arm no one has spared me even a second glance.”

  Flattery made Jez nervous and uncomfortable but among all these fancy folk she was already more than enough of both.

  “The second reason you're here is because I may need a distraction and if I do you're going to be it.” Worrying words but the Arbiter said them with a pleasant smile.

  “You want me to distract an entire room full of the richest and most powerful people in Chade?”

  “Maybe, yes.”

  “How?”

  Thanquil grinned and looked around the gathered fancy folk. “Jezzet there isn't a man in this room who hasn't spent at least some time staring at you and you're without a doubt the most graceful person I've ever seen. I'm sure you can find some way to distract them. Failing that just start... you know... killing people.”

  “Killing people?” In a room surrounded by armed guards and some of the meanest looking bodyguards I've ever seen. The bodyguards were there, keeping to the walls, trying to look inconspicuous.

  “Yes. With a spoon if you like.”

  She shot a glare at him but he laughed it away. “And how will I know when you need a distraction?”

  A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “If I need one, you'll know.”

  “Do you enjoy being cryptic and mysterious?”

  “It's part of the Arbiter training. Over there,” he said nodding across the dance-floor. “The door on the far wall. I wonder where it leads.”

  Jezzet looked. Seemed to be an unassuming door. One of the servants' entrances, she guessed, maybe even leading upstairs. Getting all the way across the room would be hard with the music playing and the fancy folk dancing.

  “If you ask me to dance I may have to hurt you again,” she warned him.

  Arbiter Thanquil laughed. “I wouldn't dream of it. No I think we'll be better splitting up here. You draw far too much attention. Remember, if I need the distraction, you're it. In the meantime, mingle, dance, and enjoy yourself Jezzet Vel'urn.”

  She sent a dark scowl his way but Thanquil didn't see it, he was already striding away, skirting the dancers, heading for the door.

  The Arbiter

  Slipping through the door Thanquil took a quick look at his new surroundings. A long corridor leading further into the mansion and a flight of stairs that led back on themselves before reaching the first floor of the building. He pulled the door closed and breathed a short sigh of relief for being out of the ball room. All that noise and falsity was enough to make him long for the Inquisition grounds, at least there the people didn't try to hide their hostile stares.

  Nobody had noticed him leave, he was certain of that. Nobody noticed him because nobody wanted to notice him. He felt bad about leaving Jezzet to her fate but certain sacrifices had to be made. She would most likely survive one way or another. He fingered the small copper band in his pocket. The stolen ring calmed him and calm was something he needed right now. He needed to find a servant or a guard, someone to question.

  The stairs were carpeted, a thief's best friend and Thanquil's, though he had no intention of stealing anything further tonight. Of course that didn't mean he wouldn't if he got the chance.

  His footfalls made almost no sound, just a light brushing of leather sole on pile. He mounted the stairs two at a time and waited at the top, listening. He could hear nothing but the distant sounds of music. He poked his head around the corner first one way, then the other. Another corridor and again empty.

  The walls were bare of decorations. It seemed Lord Xho kept an austere home. That didn't surprise Thanquil. Xho had once owned half of the southern wilds and was reported to have had an army of fifty thousand black skins at the time. He had warred and pillaged and raped and butchered his way north until an alliance of blooded had crushed his army and thrown him back. Xho escaped the battle and with a fortune, enough money to buy his way onto the Chade ruling council after a previous member had mysteriously vanished. Now he was reported to own half of Chade itself and it was because he still knew the value of gold and didn't spend it rashly.

  It was not Lord Xho; Thanquil had come here to see tonight. It was the fat one, Lord Farin Colth. The pig was a sot and a letch and he would be here. It had taken a fair few gold coins for Thanquil to find out where Colth would be tonight. He always turned up to these balls, a courtesy, but never stayed in the ball room. He would meet and greet and then Xho would provide him with a room and a woman. Rumours said Colth had a weakness for black skinned girls, the younger the better, and Lord Xho was willing to provide, no doubt for a favour somewhere down the line.

  Through his bribes and eves-dropping Thanquil had discovered the politics of the Chade council were complicated and treacherous. Only the pirate Drake Morrass seemed to be free of the machinations of the others and only then because he rarely, if ever, visited Chade.

  Footsteps. More than one set for certain and heading this way by the sound. Thanquil tried the handle on the closest door and found it unlocked. He slipped inside the darkness of the room and waited, his ear pressed close to the door. Three sets of footsteps he counted and making no pretence at quiet. Whispered voices as well but he
could hear no more than the hiss of breath escaping lips. Two male and one female by the sounds of it.

  The footsteps came closer, passed and receded and still Thanquil waited to make sure. He turned to look at the room he had found. Never know when there might be something worthless to steal. He almost jumped out of his coat when he saw the figure on the bed. He watched for a moment but saw no movement and decided to approach.

  A man lay, stripped down to his undergarments, motionless among the sheets. He breathed and his eyes were open but he did not seem to notice Thanquil. The Arbiter waved a hand in front of the man's face, above his eyes. Still no response. There was a pipe discarded on the bed close to the man's left hand. Thanquil picked it up and sniffed. Casher weed without a doubt but there was something else as well, something he couldn't place. A quick search of the room turned up a uniform the guards were wearing. The guard had been drugged and Thanquil was certain he hadn't done it to himself. The casher weed was mixed with something.

  Again Thanquil approached the guard on the bed. At least he was alive, and conscious. Thanquil took hold of the man's face and turned it to look into his own. He hated asking questions.

  “Where is Lord Colth?” The compulsion didn't work, he could feel the man's will but it was like trying to hold onto water with an open hand, it just slipped through his grasp every time.

  “Colth... with whore... second corridor... down... second door on... right,” the guard spoke as if in a dream.

  Thanquil stood confused for a moment. “Why did you answer me?” His compulsion hadn't worked, hadn't taken hold. The man shouldn't have said a word.

  “I... don't know...”

  Thanquil looked at the man again. His pupils were wide, too wide but his gaze was unseeing. A trickle of blood ran from his nose and another from his ear. His forehead was hot, clammy, sweating. Whatever had been done to the man seemed to be killing him. Thanquil considered for a moment trying to figure out what had caused it but he didn't have time. He needed to get to Colth and fast. Quick enough to question the fat man.