Chains of the Heretic

by Jeff Salyards

  Then he turned back to Latvettika. “After that, we saw that Jackal Tower was under your control, along with the rest, and we did leave Sunwrack. We didn’t know what we could do to undermine you, but it was clear it would not happen with us caged or executed. That is why we scurried, as you say. And as to what we want—”

  She interrupted. “I do hope you aren’t going to suggest we relinquish or revert anything.”

  “Of course not,” Braylar said. “I am not in a position to make suggestions. I am, however, in a position to make demands.”

  Latvettika was not amused. “Oh? Soffjian knows as much about these Deserters as you do, and this Nustenzia knows a great deal more. We need only their counsel to adequately prepare a defense, now that you have truly warned us. The way I see it, you don’t even have enough leverage to suggest—”

  “You are neglecting some significant facts,” Braylar replied. He raised his index finger and then pointed up behind him without looking. “Fact one, my soldiers have orders to shoot you to pieces on my signal or if you make any aggressive move. Fact two”—he patted Bloodsounder with two fingers—“even if you take out everyone else in this small company and manage to strike out at the crossbows on the ridge as well, I am immune to your witchery and can take out several of you on my own. I would start with Soffjian and Nustenzia.

  “Which brings us to the rather large fact three.” He held up three fingers and spun them in a slow circle. “If we kill each other here, well, there you go, but the Empire is doomed. No one wants that. And if we do kill you all here, that won’t free the Empire—you are obviously a multi-headed snake—but it would still leave the remaining Commanders and Memoridons clueless about the immediate danger threatening them. And we would have to begin this whole exercise again with new Memoridon envoys, and less chance of winning them over, given your corpses off to the side. And since we are short on time, that simply won’t do. I would much rather we negotiate here and now. Wouldn’t you? By the way, the signal to shoot you is me holding up four fingers.”

  Soffjian’s lips were curved in the faintest beginning of a smile, and Latvettika was as silent and still as an effigy, but the other three Memoridons couldn’t talk over each other fast enough, explosive objections coming so furiously that it was impossible to parse them out.

  Finally, Latvettika raised her hand and silenced them. While she might not have been an empress, she clearly had their respect if not their deference. “In typical Syldoonian fashion, you overreach. But let us hear these demands.”

  Braylar said, “There are only two. First, your amnesty of all my men. Assuming we all survive, you will not hunt, impede, attack, or attempt to capture any of them, whether they stay or go.”

  Latvettika replied, “Considering that you were instrumental in ousting Cynead here, that is not an outlandish request. And the other?”

  “After we help you fend off the Deserters, you allow any Tower that no longer wishes to be part of the Empire to secede.”

  “Secede?” she said, with a harsh laugh. “Now that is a rather exorbitant request.”

  “Demand,” Braylar corrected. “But it’s not so exorbitant as it first sounds. The Syldoon are practical by nature. Utilitarian. They recognize strength, power, and rally to it. Surely several Towers will pledge themselves fully to your banners, not out of fear or extortion, as is the prevailing condition now in the aftermath of your coup, but because they understand that their own future and success is more fully guaranteed if they align with the strongest faction. Which is unquestionably you. And for those Towers that don’t, you would be better off jettisoning them, as they would only conspire at all times to undermine or betray you. I speak from experience.”

  Wenna said, “Towers have never been allowed to break off. Never.”

  “And Memoridons have never ruled the Empire,” Braylar countered. “But today is a new day.”

  Latvettika looked at Darzaak and Cynead. “And does Captain Killcoin claim to speak for you?”

  Commander Darzaak answered first. “This is the first I’ve heard of it. But it’s a sound idea. And I say that not knowing if the Jackals would stay or go.”

  Cynead was toying with the leopard heads on his plaque belt as he considered the question. “I would never allow this man to be my proxy in any matter. But on this particular point, I find myself agreeing with Darzaak.” He flashed a big smile. “Though I might keep the Leopards inside Sunwrack to reseize power, should you provide the slightest opportunity, I do think that sometimes culling the herd serves to strengthen it.”

  Latvettika said, “The Memoridon Assembly allowed us to treat with you here, and empowered us to weigh your information and act accordingly. But not to make promises of this magnitude.”

  Braylar was undeterred. “Memoridons do not have to be in the same room to convene. Certainly one among you can communicate with your sisters in Sunwrack. I expect they are waiting to hear from you in fact even now. But I would urge you not to deliberate long.”

  The Memoridons rejoined the Syldoon, and Latvettika said, “The Assembly does not object in principle.”

  She was calm, and her delivery was unhurried, but Braylar either saw some tell or guessed as he said, “Your investigators sent word, then. They have seen the multitude of unbloodied corpses in Graymoss.”

  Latvettika’s voice had a new edge to it. “They have. And report the same occurring at Erstbright. The city was untouched, and the populace was decimated by memory magic.” She maintained her composure as she said, “So. You claim to be able to help us defeat these horned bastards. Explain yourself. Quickly.”

  Commander Darzaak said, “How big is this Deserter force? Around thirty thousand you said? Even with the Leopards and some allies taking heavy casualties recently, and limited time to recall any soldiers from the provinces, we can still field more than two hundred thousand. That’s a huge plaguing disparity.” As he watched Braylar’s reaction, though, the deep lines in his face only deepened. “But something in your eyes says that won’t mean what it should.”

  Braylar replied, “I’m afraid not. One Deserter warrior can take out ten Syldoon. And the Wielders are far more dangerous than the Memoridons. We will outnumber them, outflank them, and hopefully select terrain and ground of our choice to engage them. But we will not be able to muster a large enough force to negate their inherent advantages.”

  Vendurro said, “But they got weaknesses.” Everyone looked at him, and he blushed a little. “Well, not many, but they have them.”

  “Such as?” Latvettika said.

  I hadn’t intended to speak, but the words were out of my mouth of their own accord. “They obviously have no eyes, so they can’t perceive the world as we do, but they do see it in a way we can’t. Only it does have its own weaknesses.”

  Latvettika favored me with a look normally reserved for the arrival of unexpected rodents. “Who is this speaking, and why should we be listening?”

  Braylar looked irritated, though whether by my interruption or Latvettika’s demeanor, it was difficult to say. “This is my company scholar, Arkamondos. He was the one who first uncovered the means of crossing the Veil, and was instrumental in our escaping the Deserters, based on his learned speculation and supposition.”

  “Very well,” she said. “Proceed, scholar. Enlighten.”

  I took a deep breath and sought the words in my head this time before blurting them aloud. “How their senses work isn’t really worth going into right now, but suffice it to say, the Deserters do not see light or color. However, they do perceive textures, contours. The physical shape of everything, in all directions at once. It is quite powerful. But also limited in some ways.”

  Latvettika seemed intrigued. At least marginally. “Limited how?”

  “Rain, for instance,” I said. “Raindrops are nothing more than tiny objects moving at great speed. They perceive those, and it confounds their senses, effectively blinding them.”

  Cynead looked up at the cloudless sky. “U
nless your learned scholar here knows how to manipulate the weather, that Deserter fact, while utterly fascinating, is less than helpful.”

  Though I wasn’t accustomed to arguing with emperors, deposed or otherwise, I still replied, “With respect, I was merely using that as an example. Their odd vision can be used against them. Surely there are other ways of befuddling them, confusing them, at least briefly so as to seize an advantage.”

  Cynead looked at Darzaak and Latvettika. “Peculiar vision that is not vision. Well. That is something we will need to consider tactically at length. Pending the Grand Memoridon’s tacit approval, of course.”

  She barely hid a scowl as she said, “What else?”

  “Well,” I replied, “as I said, they do not see colors at all. You could choose to fight them in some tall grass, arrive the night before and paint areas ahead of time that are filled with caltrops, for instance. Your men would know which areas to avoid, but the Deserters could never see the paint or whitewash.”

  Mulldoos grinned or snarled—it was hard to say with the left side of his lips still not cooperating fully. “More devious every day, scribbler. I like it.” He looked at Latvettika. “Another weakness: big bastards don’t use shields that we saw. Not any. They got brass and leather armor and skin as thick as a rooter’s but the fuckers are susceptible to arrows and bolts.”

  Darzaak tapped his sword hilt. “So back to the numbers game—we strike from range and take them out before they even get close.”

  Braylar said, “Bear in mind, they have staff slings. With the Deserters’ size and strength, and the length of the weapon, the slings are essentially siege engines—they can launch rocks or lead shot the size of your fist from a greater distance than we can shoot our bows.”

  “Fair enough,” the Commander said. “They strike first. But I’m guessing not all their thirty thousand have slings. We get within our range, we will have numbers again, can mow the big bastards down.”

  Mulldoos replied, “Stands to reason, Commander. Only these huge rootercunts got their own tricks. Besides big plaguing stones and lead, the staffers shoot pods at the onset, release a hellish smoke that brings visibility to zero and leaves you sputtering and hacking. We engaged them with crossbow cavalry just on the other side of the Veil, thinking we could just peg them to pieces from range, but they disabused us of that notion right quick.”

  “And what’s more,” Braylar added, “as the lieutenant said, they have armor of brass plates and rooter hide, and skin ten times as thick as our own. Beyond their obvious size and strength advantage, the reason they can take out so many men before falling is that they can absorb a tremendous amount of punishment. The ones we killed with crossbows looked like hedgehogs.”

  Soffjian said, “And let us not forget the Wielders. We fought them when they only had one or two, and we were soundly trounced. With such a sizable force, the Deserters undoubtedly brought more than one or two to this side. We will have to contend with them.”

  Vendurro jerked a thumb towards Nustenzia. “But we stole one of their Foci. That ought to help you Memoridons take out some Wielders, or counter them or whatever.”

  Nustenzia replied, “You forget, Syldoon—I am but one of many. The Matriarch will be here with her full contingent of Wielders and Foci.”

  “Huh,” Vendurro said. “Ayyup, that’s bad.”

  Braylar said, “And precisely why we need to explore all the ways we can take advantage of the few weaknesses the Deserters do have and begin making preparations immediately. We have many weaknesses, but time is chief among them.”

  Latvettika said, “Then let us conclude this clandestine meeting and return to the capital to continue discussions of strategy.”

  Braylar twitch-smiled. “You will forgive me, Grand Memoridon, if I do not accept your exceptionally gracious offer. We will continue discussions here about tactics and terrain and what affords us the greatest chance of achieving victory. And my company will remain outside the walls until the Jackals and other Towers march forth to engage the Deserters.” He looked at me. “Arki, let the others know we will be rejoining our Jackal brethren soon enough.”

  I nodded and turned to go and heard Mulldoos add, “Might leave off the bit about us marching off to do battle with a huge host of Deserters to save a plaguing Empire. Leave that message to Cap. He’ll deliver it so it sounds like we’ll be toasting our victory over Vrulinka’s corpse before the day is done.”

  After we met with the Memoridons in the abandoned mine, they returned to the capital, and we remained in the hills. Two days later we rode down before dawn and waited outside Sunwrack for the bridges to roll out and the gates to open. The merlons on top of the Towers caught the first rays of light first, their fanciful and stylized representations of the various charges on display: foxes and moons, pikes and beetles, elk and horses. Having entered and left the city under the cover of night the last two times, I had forgotten just how impressive it was.

  But as the gates opened and the lines of soldiers started to ride out, I realized that I didn’t really know what impressive was.

  Before riding with the Syldoon, I’d seen only fisticuffs or the odd knife fight in a tavern. But since joining Braylar, I’d witnessed intense combat in a wagon, bloody skirmishes in ruins and deserted streets, melees in the woods and the fringes of a town, larger battles between the Jackals and both Imperials and Deserters.

  None of that prepared me for the spectacle of seeing the full might of the Syldoon Empire assembling on the broad plain around Sunwrack.

  Even though I expected a massive army was going to file out of the largest city I’d ever seen, knowing it is going to happen and making your eyes accept it are two totally different things.

  I was on horseback with the rest of Braylar’s small company as the Elk Tower filed out of Sunwrack first, all mounted, even the infantry, their banners snapping in the morning breeze. As they left the bridge, they began forming up into columns fifty men wide and twenty deep. Even working with haste, it took time to assume their formations and continue making room for the next column and the next and all the ones after.

  Vendurro was watching me watch and laughed. “Something else, ain’t it, seeing a Tower ride out in force?”

  I nodded, counting soldiers, calculating, in awe at the precision they managed even with their ranks filling out more by the minute.

  Rudgi was alongside us and said, “That’s nothing. This is a smallish Tower. Just wait, Arki. You’re in for a real treat today. The Empire hasn’t sent out an army this size in a hundred years. Maybe more.”

  With the sun cascading golden down the hillside, only a few wispy clouds above, and the Tower forming up as if on parade, it was easy to forget that we were all riding to face the greatest threat the Empire had ever seen. I would have been happier if storm clouds were on the horizon, as those would have at least favored us.

  But Rudgi wasn’t wrong. More and more Towers rode out of the four bridges of Sunwrack as the day wore on, forming up, their supply wagons with weapons and provisions and pavilions and who knew what else rolling up at the rear. The plain filled up quickly, and it was truly a spectacle unlike anything I’d ever seen, as the smaller Towers (relatively speaking—the Otters looked to be just shy of three thousand, the Hawks, around five, but both still far larger than any force I’d ever seen outside of an illuminated manuscript) gave way to the middle-sized ones, such as the Foxes, Ravens, and Jackals. I assumed the Leopards and a few of the largest would be coming sometime later, but we were done watching.

  Our small company rode down, passed under the aqueduct we knew all too well, and filed in with one of the lead columns of the Jackals. Commander Darzaak was at the fore, looking grim and determined as ever, and the captain and his officers saluted him. Soffjian and a handful of other Memoridons were now a close and permanent part of his retinue, making sure their presence and control was felt. That must have galled the old man fiercely, and the other Commanders as well, but as Braylar noted at the
mines, the Syldoon loyalty, unbending to their own Tower, was very malleable when it came to pledging fealty to the power of the day—some Towers had likely already sworn allegiance to the Memoridon rule, and even meant it.

  Still, I didn’t imagine Commander Darzaak was going to be one of those.

  Assuming he lived. Or that any of us did.

  Part of me feared Braylar would leave me behind with the supply wagons, and part of me hoped he might. That must have registered on my face as Vendurro leaned over and said, “You’ll ride with us until we get close. A few days or so. Then you’ll hang back with the Commander’s column. Safest place for you, really. Just stay close to Commander Darzaak. Cap and the rest of us, we’ll be ahead, skirmishing and harrying the big bastards, but you’ll be good back there.”

  Mulldoos overheard and said, “Don’t coddle him, Ven, for plague’s sake.” He leaned out of his saddle and jabbed a finger in my chest, and I was thankful I had the gambeson on. “Listen here, scribbler. After we engage, there won’t be a safe place. Jackals will be in the center, and right up front, and this is a plaguing Deserter army we’re talking about. Not trying to make you shit yourself, but don’t go into this thinking you’ll be out there picking flowers or counting clouds, either.

  “Could be, after we piss the huge bastards off and ride back, Cap’ll want you with us, if we dismount, anyway. You can’t ride for shit. Could be, though, he’ll order you to stay with the Commander. Either way, you’ll probably need to use that crossbow and sword before the day is done. Do what I trained you to do, and you have a halfway decent chance of not dying immediately.”