by K. T. Davies
Impassive, the Corrector watched his servant open the casket. I couldn’t see what was in it, but I heard coins settle with the unmistakably heavy chink of gold when the servant closed the lid.
“The Empire thanks you for your generous donation. It will be noted.” The Corrector’s voice sounded hollow. The pair with Ludorius bowed stiffly. Beyond the obvious fuckery, something was off.
Ludo didn’t bow. He drew a breath and flexed his gloved hands. It was an insignificant gesture, but the sudden wave of magic flooded the room. I felt my chest tighten and had I not already been on my knees, I would have dropped. The Corrector gasped. A couple of the knights rocked back on their heels. The only sign Ludo gave that he was viciously attacking the Corrector’s mind with a spell of compulsion was a slight inhalation. The Mage Lord’s gaze swept the room. The knights and nobles of the Midnight Court looked like they had fallen asleep with their eyes open.
Only two of us had not succumbed. With a trembling hand, Eij reached for a hair comb that was bound in his top knot. Ludo smiled, let the glamour fall away, and once more became his twisted selves. “What’s this, sweetling? Do you want to play with Ludo?” The half of him with an arm and a tentacle remained across the table from the Corrector. The part of Ludo with the giant lobster claw apported behind Eij and before the retainer could react, smacked him across the head with a quick, vicious swipe of his awful appendage.
The servant hit the floor and stayed there. No one else reacted. They were now captives of Ludo’s power— Mother’s power. Even though he didn’t know I was here, my head was pounding. It felt like a great weight was pressing down on me, trying to grind me into the floor. I dug my nails deeper into my bloody palms. There was an ugly scritching noise as the Corrector’s fingernails broke upon the marble table.
When the battle ended, the pressure lifted. Ludo reformed, recast the glamour upon himself, and then poured a glass of wine. No one moved. They were frozen; prisoners locked within the confines of their minds.
“Corrector?” said Ludo.
The Corrector stood up, walked around the table, and knelt before Ludorius. Ludo smiled down at him before turning to the somnambulant nobles of the Midnight Court. “You have served us well, new friends. Now run along, and kill all those naughty lords and ladies of your miserable court. Kill them all, my dears! Spare no one, and burn their house down.” He tore off the Corrector’s mask and tilted his victim’s head up so that he could look him in the eyes. “And you, sweetling; you still have work to do. You’re going to take us…” He twitched. “… Take me. To meet the Empirifex.”
24
Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is nothing.
So, while Ludo smashed his way into the mind of the Empirifex’s chief advisor, that’s precisely what I did. Not that I could have done much; the weight of Ludo’s compulsion spell was crushing, and he didn’t even know I was here. I wondered what the knights and the Corrector thought in the moment before he seized control of their minds. I wondered if they felt angry or afraid in that moment of utter helplessness. I imagine it was both.
Ludo dabbed sweat from his brow before addressing the Corrector. “Until tomorrow, Andreas. May I call you Andreas? I feel that we are the very best of friends now that I know you so…intimately.”
Ludo helped him to his feet. “You should rest now, sweetling. You fought so very hard. Eat, drink, and fuck, sure in the knowledge that what you fleas do is for the glory of the Empire.” The Mage Lord departed, followed by the knights who had accompanied him and his erstwhile comrades. When the door closed behind him, the remaining occupants of the room woke from the trance none the wiser.
The Corrector wiped his bloody nose. “Look at that. I think I shall retire for the night. Have my supper brought to my room...and send some company.”
Unsteady on his feet, Eij bowed. “Very good, Corrector. Shall I count the donation?”
“What? Yes, of course, do that.” Dabbing at his nose with his sleeve, he left the chamber, followed by the remaining knights. His servant stood a moment, an expression of intense concentration on his face. Ludo hadn’t lavished the same attention on him as he had on his master. He rubbed his head, winced when he felt the lump. He knew something had happened; I could feel it. But he couldn’t quite find the shattered memory. Come on, you fucker. Remember! I wanted someone other than me to resist Ludo, to put a crimp in his plans. He shook his head and scooped up the bloody mask and the casket before hurrying after the others and dashing my hopes. I alone knew what was happening, that the fate of, not just Tobias, but the Empire now hung in the balance. A significant part of me wished that I didn’t.
Life had been so much simpler when I’d worked for Mother. My only involvement in her schemes was stealing for her and killing those coves who meddled with her business. I’d practiced more statecraft for Malin who was a very different fish compared to the old dear. He frowned on me killing his problems and would rather I waste time and effort trying to outwit them. Having lived both sides of the coin, I still hold that the best solution when it comes to dealing with incorrigible cunts is sharp and pointy.
I slumped against the wall and tried to work out what the fuck I was going to do now that Ludo had raised the stakes beyond my paltry reach. He didn’t have his sights set on ruling the Midnight Court of Appleton or Valen. He wanted nothing less than the whole, fucking Empire. He’d killed one of the few people powerful enough to stop him, and I’d done for the rest. Mage Lords, demons, the Annurashi. If nothing else, I’d been thorough.
And then there was Tobias. The world was an oil-drenched pyre, and Ludo was about to light all the torches. Galled almost beyond endurance, I headed back to the armory. I began to sweat, felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Calm the fuck down you idiot.” It wasn’t easy, but I managed to calm the fuck down. The gathering heat dissipated. I wiped sweat from my brow and laughed. I was in entirely the wrong place, and most certainly the wrong, fucking time. This wasn’t my world, I was a terrible sorcerer, and my only contacts were a bunch of play actors and a raft of idiots who were either going to hang or burn, possibly both. Not for the first time, I felt that I’d been royally screwed by Fate.
I took some armour and what clothes I could find before heading back into the relative sanctuary of the secret passageways and the comfort of shadows. I followed the sound of water until I reached the cellars, where the river flowed in, collected the waste of prince and prisoner alike before carrying it back out to the river. This time I made sure to go in the opposite direction to that which I had on entering. It was a task made easier by having eyes and senses with which I could more easily distinguish the misery of a prison from the splendor of a palace. Aside of a burning desire to do so, no actual plan to thwart Ludo had come to mind, save to kill everyone and let the gods sort them out. Not the best plan by anyone’s standards. While I was waiting for inspiration to strike, I decided that I would do what I’d come here to do and rescue Tobias.
I made my way along a deserted, underground quay where skiffs and rowboats rocked in the scummed waves. A flight of steps at the far end led up to an iron-grilled door. The air being drawn down through the grill smelled of shit, fatty meat, and blood. A strangled cry provided a fitting accompaniment to the olfactory horrors. I continued up, my senses questing for any scrap of Tobias’s scent, which I finally found on the fourth floor of the infamous prison.
The secret door opened into a recess in a corridor that was otherwise lined with cells. Upon each reinforced door was a brass plate etched with wards and numerals. It wasn’t anywhere near as grim as I’d expected. True, someone was screaming and begging for mercy and an end to their pain, but the accommodation wasn’t half bad.
The squeak of wheels and the stench of piss heralded the arrival of a bent backed old human who was dragging a wheeled cart behind him full of slop buckets.
“Who goes there?” he demanded, nervously aggressive.
I marched over like I belonged. “Nevermind that. Who’s the dut
y officer tonight?”
“Who wants to know?”
“The Corrector.”
His hooded, old eyes widened, and he fell to his knees. “Forgive my insolence!”
“What? No. I’m not the Corrector. Do I look like the Corrector?”
“Dunno…the mask.”
“Fuck’s sake. Just get up.” I helped him up. “I’m here on behalf of the Corrector.” In my head this had been easier.
“Beg pardon.”
“Yes. Fine. Duty officer?”
“Corporal Fautril. He’s just down there.” He pointed to the end of the corridor, while making all haste in the opposite direction. Corporal Fautril was slouched over a lectern desk, his elbows resting on the slope as he puffed on a long-stemmed pipe. Behind him, an open door revealed a table with one chair, set with an ale jug and a hunk of bread. A cheerful fire crackled in the hearth, and a cot bed bore the impression of his ample arse. I strutted over.
“Fautril!” I barked and tried not to laugh as he almost choked on the pipe before leaping to attention. Somewhere off to the left, another pitiful scream wounded the air.
“What can I do for you, officer…?”
“Prisoner transfer. I’ve come for Tobias Vulsones.”
“The senator?”
“Do you have more than one Tobias Vulsones?” I was enjoying the feel of the iron-shod boot being on my foot for a change.
Fautril fumbled with the pipe. “I, er—no. May I see your papers?”
“Papers?” The boot began to slip. “What papers?”
“The release papers.”
“Ah, yes, of course.”
He gave me a questioning look.
I cleared my throat, stood taller. “Look, I don’t usually do prisoner transfers. I’m usually in battle. You know, doing killing and…” I realised then that I had no idea what the fuck else clanks actually did, if anything. “…knightly things.”
Fautril cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, I can’t release any prisoners without the proper papers.”
“Yes, yes, all right. With everything that’s just happened, it went out of my mind.”
“What’s just happened?”
“Why, the captain? I thought everyone knew.”
“Knew what?”
I glanced over my shoulder and then beckoned him closer. Eager for gossip, he leaned across the desk. I grabbed his hair and bashed his head against it until the bones went out of him. He slid to the floor and I dragged him into his quarters. His nose was a mite flatter, but his face was no less handsome for the rearrangement, and he’d hopefully learned a valuable lesson about the dangers of gossiping. While the corporal moaned on his bed, I wiped blood off the ledger and found Tobias’s cell number. Much to my annoyance, the key to his cell wasn’t on the sleeping corporal or hanging on the wall with the others. As I hadn’t the foresight to shove a couple of picks up my arse before being turned into…whatever the talisman had turned me into, I hunted for something I might use to dub the lock.
The best that I could come up with in a hurry was a cloak pin and a buttonhook, but they’d have to do. Cell Eleven was at the far end of the corridor from the desk. When I got there I discovered that I didn’t have to pick the lock because the door was ajar. It seemed that Commander Rubus had beaten me to it. I gathered up the tatters of my professionally pride, crept close, and heard snoring. I peered inside. Rather than attempt to escape, Senator Vulsones was sound asleep beneath a thick, feather quilt with a wench cuddled up against him. The room was warm, the ashes of a fire glowed as content as a cat in the hearth. Stockings garlanded the bed, and empty wine bottles lay upon the table, along with the remains of a supper that had been served on silver dishes.
“So, this is what prison for nobles looks like?”
The wench opened her eyes, gasped upon seeing me, and shoved him awake.
“What the…?” He muttered groggily, and made to roll over and go back to sleep. The wench shoved him harder and he fell out of bed taking the quilt and all modesty with him. He cursed. She yelped. I heeled the door closed behind me and threw the desk sergeant’s cloak at him. “Put this on, and come with me.”
His head appeared over the edge of the bed. “It’s you!”
“Well spotted.”
“The uniform threw me.”
The wench reared like a cobra. “Wait on, he ain’t going nowhere until I’ve been paid.”
I leaned against the door. “You heard the lady.”
Tobias struggled into his breeches and turned to me. “I don’t suppose you’ve any coin?”
“Correct.”
“Typical, bloody senators.” The wench huffed. “All the bloody same.” She got up, put on her stockings and shoes and made leave. I shoved her back towards the bed. “Just stay there and be quiet.” She flounced down.
One of the few indications that we were in a prison and not some modest, but well-kept inn was the barred window, and even then there was a fine view of the keep and the city. Even the commode in the corner had a padded seat. Tobias began fussing with his doublet.
“Come on, Vulsones. We’ve got to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my mother.”
I looked at the wench. “Is that what he calls you?” She snorted. He looked aghast. Another broken wail of pain shattered the quiet. It seemed not everyone was having as much fun as the senator. “You’re mother’s gone. Now come on.”
“What?” His expression changed to one of horror.
“I mean she’s free.” I corrected. “She’s not gone, gone. She’s just gone from here, but not in a bad way. Look, she ain’t dead yet, so just hurry the fuck up.”
“How do you know?”
It would have been so much easier knocking him insensible and carry him out, but I resisted. “Your friends told me.”
“Friends?”
I leaned in and whispered. “The Third Dawn.”
He didn’t look happy. “How do you intend to get me out? This is the most heavily guarded prison in the land.” Haughty suited this cove far more than it had the priest I had known.
“With cunning, guile, and luck. Also magic.” I turned to the wench. “When we leave, you stay here and keep your cakehole shut.”
“You could always tie me up.” She winked at Tobias. He chuckled.
“Or, I could smother you with a pillow?” I suggested in all seriousness. She gave me the knife-eye, but held her tongue. “No? Then I suggest you bind yourself with a sense of self-preservation and do as you’re told.” I grabbed the senator and shoved him through the door.
Tobias Vulsones might have been a fine orator, but he couldn’t act casually if his life depended on it. Handily it was late when we left, and the gate I’d chosen was well away from the main thoroughfares in a quiet corner of the palace prison compound. Just as well because it would have been an even bigger travesty ‘escaping’ in plain sight.
“I can’t believe we just walked out of the Leads,” said Tobias.
“It was either walk out or turn us both into sentient water and float out through the sewer pipe. Trust me, this is better.” I relaxed a mite when we dipped into a side street, out of sight of the keep guards who I was sure had sniggered when we’d passed them.
We didn’t get far down the street before the heavy crunch of boot studs on cobbles coming the other way caused me to shove him into a small tavern. He had no idea what was going on as I escorted him to a table in the corner. It was a grotty hole and aside of us and a couple of rats, it was empty. The tavern keeper didn’t bother to ask what we wanted to drink. She poured two grimy mugs of wine and brought them over. “Meatballs?” she asked as she picked her teeth.
“Just the wine.” I stared pointedly at the gold bangle Tobias was wearing. He sighed but tugged it from his wrist and dropped it on the tray. She smiled. I necked the wine, which could best be described as ‘wet’.
“I still want to know why you.” Tobias wiped the rim of the mug before taking a sip. H
e shuddered, made a stink face, and put the mug down without drinking.
“Why me what?”
“Why they sent you to rescue me, particularly after you attacked me.” Despite the evidence of his own eyes, that he was still insisting that I’d attacked him made me want to punch him again. The squad of greenshanks marched past.
“I didn’t attack you. I subdued you. It’s very different.”
“But why did they send you?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m good at this kind of thing.” I looked at him over the rim of my mug. He gave no indication that he had noticed. He just continued to regard me with suspicion.
“It is too much of a coincidence that it’s you once again coming to my rescue.”
“I wanted to see you safe.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. But once they were hanging in the air, I thought, fuck it. I could tell him this much without giving away anything important. This information wasn’t worth shit to anyone but me. “You remind me of someone I used to know. He died, and it was my fault. There, are you happy now?”
He took a moment to digest my words, by which time a part of me, the idiot part it has to be said, hoped that he would magically transform into the Tobias I knew.
He did not transform. He burst out laughing. “Really?” He rocked back on his chair. “Of all things, I would have never taken you for the sentimental type. But, I suppose it does explain your peculiar attachment to me.”
The candle on the table flared. I blew it out, and raised my mug. “Barkeep! More wine.” I hadn’t expected his mockery to sting, so that was a surprise I felt the need to celebrate with a few bottles of wine.
“Shouldn’t we be going?” He made to rise. I clamped my hand on his shoulder and kept him in his seat.
