Solyrian Conspiracy - C M Raymond & L E Barbant

by Michael Anderle

  The man named Kirill laughed at her. “Ky, it is always the same for you. If Solyr provided each of her citizens with a bag of barley and three fattened calves a week, you would bang the same drum.” He glanced at the men on his right and left, and they nodded their approval. “The poor, the poor,” he whined in a high singsong. “If the people are hungry, they should work harder.”

  “But my people—” the woman named Ky began.

  Kirill raised a hand. “They are all our people, Ky. Must you divide us at every breath? My father would have had none of this.”

  “Your father’s body is barely cold, and already you insist on twisting his words and misinterpreting his intentions.”

  “He was a good man,” Kirill spat. “Far better than anyone here.”

  Ky smiled. “You might be more right about that than you let on. King Aurel was certainly better than the bastard who is attempting to sit on his throne.” She pointed at the jewel-encrusted seat at the end of the room. “And the Mylek won’t let you steal from us what is not yet rightfully yours. We will die first.”

  “Then die, you must!” the man next to Kirill shouted.

  The words threw the room into a frenzy. Parties on both sides began to shout and wag their fingers at one another indiscriminately. None were safe, and none were silent.

  "Sir," the captain of the guard called over the bedlam. Kirill didn't hear him. "Sir," he yelled.

  Finally, Kirill looked up from the red-faced crowd and saw his captain of the guard, his troops, and a group of strangers shackled before him.

  Kirill's face twisted in confusion. "Silence!" He stepped around the table and approached them. Ky walked double-time on his heels. "What the hell is this, Irmand?" Kirill asked. He looked down at the chained Sal, who was wagging his tail. To Parker, the dragon looked no more ferocious than a dog on a leash, but there was no telling how the big lizard made these people feel. The man’s eyes widened when they landed on Vitali.

  "My Lord, we caught these outsiders making trouble in the town square. They say that they're only here to fix their vessel and continue their voyage, but my troops pulled them out of a violent brawl. For all we know, they started it."

  Parker could see the flush rising in Karl's cheeks, and he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, more as a symbol than anything. The rearick’s muscles were tight and he was ready for action.

  "But why the hell did you bring them to us?” Ky asked. “Can't you see we’re in the middle of deliberation? A heated one, at that. Take care of the foreigners yourself. That is what we pay you for, after all.” She pursed her lips and kept her gaze on Irmand, the captain of the guard.

  He looked back at her blankly, as if he were trying to process exactly what she had said.

  "Irmand?” Ky asked again. “What is wrong with you?”

  Irmand turned toward his troops, and then looked at his captives one at a time. Parker bit inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He had seen people in this predicament many times before, but it still got him every time.

  The woman walked up to Team BBB, eyeing them. Then she turned to Irmand. "My gods, the captain of the guard has been bewitched."

  "I-I…" Irmand stammered, which brought a tremendous laugh from Kirill.

  "It is true, my friend. For the first time all day, I will admit this: Ky is correct about something.” He turned toward the others still seated around the table. "And this," he waved his hand toward Parker and his friends, "proves my point. This ragtag group is Exhibit A. Do we not need stronger defenses? Are we strong enough to protect against the enemy outside our gates? Our walls high enough, and our men strong enough? I think the answer to that question lies right before you, dear Ky."

  He turned and walked back toward the table, leaving the captives behind. Before he reached his seat at the end of the table, Ky started to clap, and the slow, rhythmic sound echoed through the chamber. "Very well played, Kirill. Where did you get them?" She nodded toward Hannah's crew. "Certainly, it took some work to get a group of foreign mages, even one this small, to come take part in your clever ruse."

  Kirill reached his spot and slammed his giant palms on the oak table. "And if an army of a thousand remnant or the pirates from the north invaded, would they also be called my charge? Not everything is a false flag, my dear.” His tone went higher, and a vein popped out on the side of his neck. He stood tall. "I will not allow my father's legacy to fall for the sake of breadcrumbs for your little urchins throughout the city. I will not let the good people of Solyr suffer at the hands of those outside these walls because your heart bleeds for people who cannot help themselves. My family has worked too hard. Too long. I will do what it takes to stop you and—"

  "Enough," Hannah yelled. As she did, she lifted her hands, eyes blazing red, and pulled her chains apart. They didn't just break; the iron disintegrated and fell as dust at her feet. Swords were drawn and the troops stepped toward her, but they stopped when they saw what came next.

  Hannah put her hands out toward the walls as her body started to levitate to the vaulted ceiling. She crossed her hands over her chest in an intricate pattern and then extended them above her shoulders toward the rafters. Wind whipped around her, lifting and tossing her hair like snakes on ancient Medusa. Lightning crackled from her fingertips. She turned her hand toward the table.

  Both sides quivered and trembled in fear. It was Ky who pointed and shouted, "The Matriarch!"

  The guards dropped to a knee as the politicians continued to tremble. Hannah flicked her wrist toward her crew, and their chains disintegrated, just as hers had. Parker, Aysa, and Vitali moved to cover the guards, and Karl grabbed his hammer, which was resting on the stone floor.

  Hannah drifted back down and landed squarely in the center of the table. All eyes were on her.

  “Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on here?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hannah followed Kirill and Ky into an adjacent room. Her crew was right behind her, the Guard and Irmand behind them. Apparently, the two elders wanted to have this conversation without the rest of the group present, but they were afraid to be alone without their soldiers’ protection. Hannah had no idea why, and she wasn't sure if it should bring her comfort or concern her. What she did know was that this group would be no match for the Bitch and Bastard Brigade.

  They entered a room that, in comparison to the throne room, was what one might consider cozy. The ceiling was much lower, only about ten feet. Instead of the enormous table and chairs, there was a circle of furniture made from what looked to be exotic leather. Nothing was spared in the house of the king.

  Kirill motioned to a large couch and a wingback chair, and Hannah and her crew took their places. It wasn't until they were in their seats that Kirill and Ky sat. Irmand and his men remained at the door, weapons in hand.

  "We will tell you what's going on here," Kirill said. "But first, I want to know about you. Who are you, and what are you really doing here? And before you answer, you should know that I have a gift of sniffing out lies."

  "And dishing them out," Ky quipped. Kirill shot her a glare.

  Hannah nodded. "Fair enough. My friends and I have traveled from New Romanov, a city many days’ travel from here to the north.” She looked at each of them to see if their faces showed any recognition of the name, which they didn't. "Frankly, we’re just exploring. None of the people in the city have traveled very far south. I guess you could say adventure is in our blood, but we’re not marauders. Not troublemakers. We’re just on our way to discover new lands, or at least we were until we got boarded."

  Ky raised an eyebrow. "Boarded?"

  "Yes. We have a ship. Not one that sails, one that flies." Kirill’s eyes widened. "It's a technology built by a comingling of the tech of the new world and the old in a city far away from here. In Arcadia, my city. When we were less than a day's travel north of here, our ship was boarded by pirates, a group of real asshats who thought they could make a little scratch taking
our ship. And maybe us."

  "Let's just say those guys didn't go home to see their mommies," Aysa added.

  "I've heard of those pirates," Kirill said, ignoring Aysa. "They have ventured toward us before, but thankfully we've been able to fend them off. Our walls are a major defense," he glanced at Ky, "but unfortunately, I'm not sure the defenses will last through a major attack."

  Hannah smiled. "Yeah. I heard most of that conversation a couple of minutes ago. Seems like you two need couples counseling. Anyway, we didn't come here to start trouble. We didn’t come to your town to solve problems either. We just happened to wander into the royal rumble that was taking place in your town square. Apparently, you’ve got some issues on your hands."

  “And what business is that of yours?” Irmand, the captain of the guard, shouted, but Kirill waved him down.

  “Let’s just say that solving issues is kind of our forte,” Hannah said. “But if you all want to tear yourselves apart, I guess that is your business.”

  Kirill nodded slowly and waited. Hannah knew he was measuring his response. Whoever this guy was, he was careful. Smart. Shrewd, even.

  Before he could respond, Ky jumped in. "You could say we have a significant amount of unrest, but this is new to us. Overall, the people of Solyr are peace-loving."

  She paused, which gave Kirill a chance to speak. "This unrest is what happens when power shifts in any city. There are those who want to subvert the group in control and question the authority of leadership. We have people who want to deny the rightful claim of tradition."

  Hannah used her mental magic to infiltrate Kirill's mind.

  This city is my responsibility now. This city is my responsibility now. This city is my responsibility now.

  The phrase repeated in his mind, and Hannah wondered if it was some kind of prayer. He seemed concerned about his place and his people. Hannah scratched an itch forming behind her ears and tried to focus on the conversation happening around her.

  "Kirill is correct," Ky said. "There has been a shift in power. The city's beloved King Aurel suffered a terrible death. The tradition of Solyr is that the kingdom is handed down to a successor based upon the king's proclamation, but King Aurel left no such direction for his city. That is why his son," Ky glanced Kirill, "is trying to gain control by certain machinations."

  Kirill shook his head. "Your mouth is full of half-truths, Ky, as it has been since your birth.” He leveled his eyes on Hannah, his face swept with emotion. "It is true. My father is dead, and perhaps he considered himself to be more than mortal, like the rest of us. He never named his successor, but most would agree on his intent. I served by his side for decades, from my youth until his death. In keeping with tradition, I affirm the compact of our city that if no successor has been named, then the people will cast their votes for the one who will lead them into the future. For us, only when the monarchy stutters does democracy step in. This is our way."

  “Okay,” Parker said. “Then why not just hold a vote?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Ky said, shaking her head. “The good king did not just die, he was murdered. How can we trust the people to vote honestly when the truth is hidden from them?”

  Kirill nodded, his face like granite. “We agree on more than I expected this day, Ky. It is true that the assassins must be found and they also will be dealt with extremely judiciously. But that shouldn’t interrupt the rule of law, no matter this chaos provides certain...political advantages for a particular group.”

  “And what exactly are you accusing me of?” Ky’s eyes narrowed. “I loved Aurel, same as you.”

  “I’m just saying that the Mylek have the most to gain from succession through a ballot. My father’s untimely demise has cracked open a door for you.”

  Ky opened her mouth to say something but held it in. As the woman’s emotions rose, Hannah took the opportunity to dip into her mind. Unlike Kirill, Ky’s thoughts were tumultuous and filled with rage. It seemed that it wasn’t unusual for people like Kirill, the Myrna, to lay blame on the Mylek people. Every city had a story, and Hannah was starting to understand pieces of theirs.

  “Be cautious,” Ky continued, her eyes faintly yellow. “One shouldn’t insult a Mylek lightly.”

  “A Myrna never does,” Kirill said. He turned back toward Hannah. “As you can see, things aren’t great at the moment, and the tension rests on more than me and dear Ky here. These damned Blue Scarves, for example, have been making trouble every chance they get.”

  “Blue scarves?”

  Irmand broke in from across the room. “The Blue Scarves are nothing but a gnat on the ass of an ox. Troublemakers with little power and fewer wits, trying to cause disarray on our streets. My men will—”

  Ky cleared her throat. “These gnats are on your ass, Irmand, and it seems that your men have done precious little to keep their random acts of chaos at bay. Your Guard is weak, and they lack discipline. With the election coming, I recommend you tighten up your ship. A good portion of our wealth goes to arming you and your men, but still, you can hardly keep them under your watch. More and more of your men are deserting their posts.”

  “Irmand is doing what he can,” Kirill said. “The city is splitting at the seams. If we do not act now, we might not have any sort of union by the time of the election.”

  Hannah stood. “Okay, so the king is dead, and all hell is breaking out, with some douche nuggets causing problems on the streets, a murderer on the loose, and a city guard that can’t keep its men in the ranks.” She looked at her crew.

  “Nothin’ we haven’t handled before,” Karl croaked.

  “Indeed. If you will have us, the Bitch and Bastard Brigade is here to help.”

  Ky looked up at her, her eyes full of doubt. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this? Why would you help us?”

  Hannah thought for a second. She considered using her mental magic to make the point but decided a forthright answer would do the trick just as well.

  “We’ve traveled all over Irth, and we’ve seen more than our fair share of chaos and bloodshed. Everywhere we go, civilization barely holds on, clinging to what little it has.” She looked around the room. “I don’t know your city, but I’ve known others like it. You might have troubles, but you also have thousands of innocent people who trust your laws and those walls. I can’t just sit back and watch the peace you’ve made here be torn apart, not if I can help.”

  She gazed at her team, the finest group of warriors and heroes she’d ever known. She could tell that they were with her one hundred percent.

  “You’ve seen but a fraction of what my team can do,” Hannah continued, “and that was enough for half your council to bow down and worship me as the Matriarch. I’m sorry to say I’m not her. If she were here, she could solve the issue with a flick of her sword. I might not be the Matriarch, but the truth is, I’ve got her blood in my veins, and if I can use that power to heal your city, then by the gods, I will do it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vitali walked through the ornately decorated hallway, hoping to outpace the screams behind him. But the great hall was large, and he was still a little uneasy navigating indoors.

  He turned a corner and found a statue he recognized.

  Kirill had set the BBB up in guest quarters. It was no hammock under the peaceful bows of trees, but it beat sleeping in the cramped rooms on the Unlawful. Two more turns brought him to the open door to the common room, where the rest of the crew had gathered except for Hannah. He stepped through it, heart still racing, and took a seat at the edge of the room.

  Sal looked up at him before curling back up into a tight, scaly ball for a nap.

  "You okay, Fuzztastick?" Aysa asked with a grin.

  Vitali lied, "Fine.”

  Aysa jumped off her round chair and put her face close to his. Her large eyes narrowed like she was trying to read his mind. “I don’t buy it. What happened?”

  Vitali sighed. “While you all were settling in, I decided
to have a look around the grand hall. The artwork in this strange land is amazing, and I guess I got lost in the sights. It turns out, however, that the people who live here are less impressed by the sight that I make. A small child thought I was a monster who had come to devour her."

  “I bet she was a Myrna,” Parker said. “They seem to have a bias against people who don’t quite look like people.”

  Karl sat on a couch large enough to make him look like a child. He raised his mug toward Vitali. "Aye, it's bad enough around here to be built fer the caves. Me stature makes me a freak too. Can’t imagine if ye covered me with fur and gave me one of them tails of yers."

  Aysa wrinkled her nose and pointed at Karl's long beard. "If you were covered with fur?"

  "Shut it, Long Arms."

  Before Aysa had a chance to shoot back her retort, bells rang from a tower somewhere in the city. After three chimes, the door flew open, and Hannah filled the space. Sal jumped to his feet and ran toward her.

  "Nice entrance, babe," Parker said to her.

  "Aysa isn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic. But the bells do not toll for me. I was told by Kirill that for years, those bells have been reserved for the beginning of city festivals," she said.

  "And what are they there for now?” Vitali asked.

  “To warn of danger.” Hannah looked at her team. "Grab your gear, everybody. It's go time."

  The three other members filed out of the room, each of them ready to get to work. Vitali sat still in his chair. He hoped Hannah would just move on, that she and his others wouldn't notice he was missing. Deep down, he knew that was an impossibility.

  "What's up, V?"

  "I'm going to sit this one out, Captain."

  Hannah's eyes narrowed, not out of anger but confusion. They had fought side by side more times than either of them could remember, and Vitali never sat out a fight. "Is there something I need to know?"

  Vitali stood and pushed his shoulders back. The Lynqi were nothing if not proud. He wouldn't defame his people’s name in front of the most powerful magician in the world. He could only hope she would understand.