Weston chuckled. "Dear niece a few hundred miles, especially when you're heading north to south or from one side of a mountain range to the other can change what grows and what doesn't more dramatically than you'd imagine."
"Yeah whatever. I hit every damn stall in the market looking for it, and no one had it. And it's not like I could ask for it either. 'Hey pardon me shop keep, but do you sell a mushroom that causes violent stomach ailments? Very common in The Empire's capitol?' Yeah, not a question to ask on the eve of war with The Empire." Umaryn produced a small leather pouch out of her trouser pocket and tossed it on the center of the worn kitchen table. Everyone gathered close to it and looked at it, but didn't dare touch it.
"Is that the stuff?" Mal asked her.
She collapsed into a sturdy chair and brushed the dirt off her lap. "Yep. I wound up taking a weird route back here to make sure I wasn't being followed, and poked my head into that small park that's on the corner of the main thoroughfare near the market, you know the one?" After Mal nodded she continued, "Anyways, I was walking through the park and right there, on the side of a small elm tree behind a few rows of bushes is the damned mushroom. I climbed over the bushes when no one was looking and plucked more than enough to get the job done. Pays to be a little lucky."
James picked up the leather pouch and opened it. He sniffed the pungent fungus inside and his nose curled. "More likely the Ancestors wanted you to find this and put a whisper in your ear. Will this kill her?"
Umaryn shrugged. "No idea. Enough to kill her might be too much and she'll smell it or taste it. I don't think the risk of tipping her off would be worth it. Better that we play it safe and put just enough to make her really sick. "
"How long does it take to work?" James asked her.
"We used a fair amount on an elderly couple in Graben, but we were able to hide it in food to mask the taste. It was maybe an hour. Hour and a half for the man," Umaryn said.
"Wait. You two poisoned an elderly couple?" Chelsea asked, judging them plainly.
Mal looked sheepish. "It's a long story. We poisoned them to protect them."
"Let's try this Mal; I'm gonna stab you to keep you safe from danger," Chelsea said, testing the sanity of the two statements.
"It's complicated. You had to be there," Umaryn said, trying to defend her brother's line of reasoning.
"I guess so," the female sergeant said, rolling her eyes.
"So then we're set," Weston said. "We have everything we need for the morning. Tonight we go over every detail in the plan until we all know our parts inside and out, with our eyes closed. If there's time, we should try and learn everyone else's parts as well."
No one responded to his statement.
"We are all committed to this, yes? There can be no waffling," Weston asked the group. He sensed nervousness, and trepidation.
"I know it must be done," Mal said, looking at the floor. "I fear we'll hurt more innocents in the doing of it though. Umaryn and I will spend the rest of our lives trying to atone for the things we've already done, I scarcely think we can afford to hurt more people who don't deserve it."
"I agree with Mal, Weston. This plan is risky," Chelsea added. "There is a very good chance we'll have to put down innocent Apostles or City Guard simply trying to keep the peace if things get out of hand, and we all know this is apt to get out of hand. We're going to be considered criminals no matter what happens, and if the worst case should take place, we'll be villains of the worst sort for the rest of our lives."
James and Umaryn said nothing. The young couple already said it all.
Weston spoke. His voice was solemn. "I know how you feel, and I feel the same way. We risk all right now. There is no sense in saying anything different. But I would argue that the time has come for us to put it all on the line I would say. Alisanne has gotten away with the attempted murder of Catherine and Ellioth for over two decades and has enjoyed a life of luxury and high status all the while. Her own sister and future brother in law. And now, she continues to get away with the slaughter of your little sister, the completion of what she attempted two decades ago, and the complete and utter devastation she had visited on the town you grew up in. We know of hundreds dead because of her actions. How many do we not know of? I cannot abide standing by any longer. Since we met at House Kulare every morning I awake with the sour taste of unfulfilled justice in my mouth. My stomach cramps with disgust at my cowardice for not trying to seek her out before this, and I'd venture to say that you wake the same way Malwynn and Umaryn. Yes, we may hurt the innocent tomorrow and yes we may have to kill someone who does not deserve to die for us to stay alive but there will be plenty of time to say our apologies and make amends for our actions after. We are past asking for permission to do what is right. Tomorrow we do what we must do. The day after, we beg for forgiveness."
The room stayed silent, considering what he said.
"If you are not willing to kill to make Alisanne pay for what she's done, then leave here now. I have already made my decision. I will understand if you want nothing to do with what might happen tomorrow." Weston pointed to the door with a straightened finger that spoke of a dark finality.
No one left.
James walked with a young Apostle across the grounds of the Cathedral of Saint Kincaid. The sprawling gardens were lush and vibrant in the early morning sun, and the carefully orchestrated explosion of flowers smelled fragrant. The young Apostle carried a bamboo box filled with a tea service for James. The aromatic brew inside the container had far more than just tea leaves in it.
With James leading the way, the two Apostles—old and young—went to the building that housed Alisanne's offices, and walked past the relaxed guards and through the door to the wide stairs. James had walked this walk a thousand times with confidence, but like the last time he'd made the trip instead of inspiring him, the approach frightened him. He wondered what his companion thought of the walk.
The men meandered up the flights to the fancy door that Alisanne did her business behind, and upon arrival James took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Now or never, he thought. He ensured the young Apostle was waiting behind him, and he rapped his shaking knuckles on her door.
There was no answer.
Shit. He rapped again, this time a little harder. James heard a bit of commotion from the other side of the door, and his heart fluttered.
"Who calls?" James heard Alisanne ask from the other side of the heavy carved door.
"It is James, Bishop. Sorry to bother you so early unannounced. I wanted to stop in briefly to say hello, and ask a few questions about how things were going," James said loud enough for her to hear through the thick wood of the door.
"Ah James, enter please," she said.
James opened the door and walked in, shutting it after the young Apostle following scooted in nervously. James turned to Alisanne and saw her examining the Acolyte he'd brought with him. As she took the young man in, James noticed the steam rising off of a small golden wash basin on her desk. A damp towel sat nearby, and the edges of her hair were darkened, and wet. She'd been washing her face.
"Who is this young man?" Alisanne asked James, indicating the low ranking Apostle with James that was carrying the wooden case with the tea.
James turned to face the teen boy carrying the bamboo box and his mind drew a blank. He couldn't remember quite who the boy was, but he knew something was strange about his presence in the office. He didn't belong, but James knew the boy was important. He knew at least the boy was here to help him get the more important box from the shelf. "Why don’t you introduce yourself to Bishop Alisanne young man."
The brown haired boy with bright but clearly intimidated eyes gave the Bishop a slight bow. "It's exciting to be here, Bishop. I'm just carrying this tea here I made earlier this morning. I gave a sip of it to the Minister and he insisted that you try it. He said you drink a lot of tea and would appreciate its delicate nature. I hope you're not disappointed I asked to come with him to s
hare it with you?" The boy so clearly wanted to impress the Bishop.
His adoration of her forced her into a smile. She couldn't help but bask in the glow of the young man's reverence of her and her position. Her power. "I do indeed love a good cup of hot tea. What kind of tea have you brought? Get it out, serve us if you would. James, you say you've questions to ask me? Is your interest in my quest to protect the people of Elmoryn from the past becoming your obsession as well?" Alisanne picked up the towel and patted her temples and brow, mopping up errant beads of water from the bowl. She took a seat and watched as the boy took out a small clay pot and two small clay cups. It was a poor person's teapot, and for Alisanne it spoke to the station the child had come from. She wondered if the boy could be brought into her company as a trusted servant one day. Another James would be useful to her.
James had stolen a glance out of the corner of his eye at the box when she'd wiped her face with the towel. It was there, and that meant the plan to take the box could take another step forward. Today was the day. As the young Apostle began to pour the tea James knew this moment was the most crucial, but he couldn't remember why. "I suppose that all of the things that happened have piqued my interest Bishop, yes. I've become far more involved in everything. My trip to the Protectorate, meeting the twins, learning more about all that's happened. You could say that I'm far more invested in the events you've had me helping you with than I would've expected."
The boy interjected a question, "Bishop do you take honey, lemon or milk in your tea?"
She didn't even look at him. "Honey please. That's because you're devoted Minister," Alisanne said as she took the plain brown glazed mug from the boy. From a similar lidded mug he produced for her a spoonful of golden honey. It went into the mug and with a stir, sweetened the tea. She talked the whole time. "James you're dedicated. You have shown me for years through your hard work, due diligence, and loyalty to me. You've done everything the Church has asked of you without question, and asked for more. By the spirits you nearly died on that train to the Protectorate and you came right back, eager to serve. You understand that there must be sacrifices to ensure the greater good. That sometimes we Apostles must suffer in the darkness so that the flock we tend can experience the joy and wonder of a safe life in the light."
James nodded. Nodding wasn't a lie.
"May I take leave?" The tea carrying boy asked Alisanne.
"Of course. Thank you for bringing me the tea. I'll be sure to tell the Minister what I thought of it. Good day young man," she said full of charm.
He left, shutting the heavy door behind him.
"My dedication is to the people of Elmoryn, Alisanne. I want to serve them as best I can." James lifted his ceramic mug and sipped at the tea. It was cooler than he expected, and had a surprisingly complex flavor. A strike of panic hit him deep in his stomach when he realized the tea was poisoned by the mushrooms and he coughed. No, wait. The boy gave me the safe tea. I'm all right. He sat the cup down on the edge of his Bishop's desk and coughed a few more times.
"Are you all right?" Alisanne asked as she took a sip from her own cup.
James coughed a few more times, nodding all the while. "Wrong pipe I think my lady, apologies."
"Don't go dying on me James. Apostle healing arts have not yet discovered how to stop drowning. I can't heal that," she said, teasing him.
James bit his tongue and picked up the cup. They sat sipping the tea for several minutes, letting the sun outside warm them. "You think this is good tea?" Alisanne asked him.
"Better than most I would say," James said honestly.
She shrugged. The two sat silently, sipping on the warm brew for multiple minutes. James let each second slip by and praised his good fortune. He knew he had to kill nearly an hour for the mushroom to cause her illness and every moment added up to a better chance at him retrieving the box and its cursed contents.
"I'm glad to have you in my service James," Alisanne said absently.
The praise felt weird to James. She almost never said nice things, and certainly hadn't in some time due to the return of the twins. Her moment of honesty stood out against her recent days of harsh anger and paranoia. "You seem happier today. May I inquire why you seem so?" Questions weren't lies.
Alisanne yawned. It was still early in the morning. "Knowing that the twins have headed north to the front at Ockham's Fringe has given me peace of mind, Minister. They can do me no harm there, and are far from anywhere they could be to exacerbate the troubles I deal with." She stole a glance at the box on the shelf. "When the time is right to be done with them I will be told so, and with a simple command the twins will be put down, and all under the cover of war. No one guilty of their death."
"What? Put down under the cover of war? Do you know something that the rest of Varrland doesn't Bishop? Is war inevitable?" James picked up his mug and sipped again. He was angry at her comment but he knew that if he drank, she drank. She took a sip as if James had willed her to.
"James part of being a good Apostle is keeping your enemies close. I've cultured many a relationship with people from The Empire."
"Isn't that cavorting with the enemy? Treason of the worst kind?" James asked.
She shook her head. "No, don't be foolish James. The people and Parliament of Varrland hate The Purple Queen and what she and her government represents, but they are not officially enemies of the state as of yet. In a few more days though that will change."
"We are going to war then," James said with sadness in his voice.
"Yes. A grand war that will cleanse the pox of The Empire away. One that is long, long overdue. The Queen and her servants think they have grand support inside the city here, but they do not. I've misled them. Given them false confidence, made deals that cannot be made whole. They will march on Daris and smash themselves against the Varrland military. Our victory is completely assured."
"But what if they aren't smashed as you say? What if they manage to defeat the forces in Ockham's Fringe? What if they defeat the rest of the Varrland army? What if they win Bishop?"
"Inconceivable James. The Empire does not have the support of the Ancestors as we do. The spirits are on our side, and the greatest weapon against the necrotic armies of The Empire is the power of the Ancestors. Apostles have centuries of experience in battling the undead. We cannot lose this war," she said with the conviction only a mad person could have.
"But what if the Ancestors want them to win? What if there are too few Apostles?" James posed heretically.
She gave him a scalding look and downed the rest of the tea. "Do not speak such insanity. You know in your heart of hearts those that were dead before us and now eternal spirits could not support The Purple Queen and her nation of necromancers. It is unthinkable and you should pray long and diligently for better guidance in the matter James. What is good and right is on our side, clearly."
"To be clear Bishop, you have had a hand in orchestrating a war? Am I hearing you correct?"
"Yes. I'm not happy of the deaths that are to come, but history will show that their loss was a pittance to pay for the eradication of The Empire. They shall be ushered into the afterlife by our Apostle brothers and sisters to exist forever, supporting our world and The Way. You do not approve?"
James shook his head vehemently. Nodding might not be a lie but he couldn't stop his body from showing its disapproval. "No Bishop. I think this is a dangerous play and the lives of too many are at stake. Is the rest of the Church aware of this? Do you have the support of the Vice Pontifex? What of the Cathedral of Donovan in Farmington? Surely they must be aware of this?"
"I act alone, as the tip of Elmoryn's spiritual spear."
James was speechless.
"I thought you'd understand more James. Perhaps in a year when everything settles out you'll understand better. Until then, sit back safe here in Daris as a war by others is waged hundreds of miles away. We can tend to the matters of the people as is normal, and be here to pick up the pieces after the
war is won. Everyone gets to be a hero. All will be well. You will see. Have faith in the Ancestors and me James. Have I ever led you astray before?"
"You nearly had me killed on that damn train," James blurted.
Alisanne's face lost all of its softness. Seconds ago she was guiding someone she felt ignorant. His comment was another matter. She leaned forward. "What do you speak of?" Her voice was low, and challenging.
James knew he'd said too much, but didn't choose to stop. "The brigands who attacked the train. You sent them to kill the twins."
"Who told you that?" She said, turning to look out the window of her office. James could see the paranoia creep and spread through her body.
"The twins. It all made sense. Why leave any chance of them making contact with the person you feared at House Kulare if you could kill them on the way? Alisanne you never leave an opportunity, and as you say, sometimes we must suffer for the greater good. If I were to have died on that train you would've said a prayer and been thankful for my sacrifice. A replacement Minister would take my place before the sun had set the next day. I don't think you would shed a single tear over my death if it meant you accomplished something you wanted." His accusation sounded like a threat.
Alisanne was standing now. She reached into a slit pocket in her cream colored robe and fished out something small. James thought it might’ve been a weapon, a dagger perhaps, but more likely it was some kind of item to focus The Way into a spell. She meant to kill him, or strike him dumb so he couldn't betray her. Strangely, he felt indifferent about it all.
The Bishop raised her hand to point it at James but stopped abruptly when a knock came at the door. She hid the hand behind her back as if it held a bloody dirk. "Who calls?"
"The boy who brought you your tea Bishop. With the Minister earlier? Might I bring you more? I've made a fresh pot."
Her face snarled but she kept control of her voice. "No thank you young man. I didn't care for the tea nearly enough for a second cup."
The Motive for Massacre (The Kinless Trilogy Book 2) Page 22
