Chapter 29: Loyalty

Surely, the gods must be having a laugh.

Here they were, the best agents in the Agerian Empire, handpicked and sent by the Emperor himself on a divine mission across the realm to eliminate three young people the gods themselves had declared enemies.

They had hunted their targets for days and endured hardships together along the way. And when they finally got the opportunity to take a short break from the mission to rest and recuperate—and in her case, heal—their targets had simply walked into the very tavern they were sitting in.

Relaila almost laughed at the thought but stopped herself at the last moment. Though the wound in her side was mostly healed now, it still hurt a little when she moved. She was actually glad they had chosen to retain the services of a Flow Walker rather than letting Dina heal her fully with dark magic.

In the Dark Flame’s eyes, Relaila had seen something more than the girl wanted to admit, a silent resolve founded on the pain of years of being reluctantly pushed just a little bit further out of her comfort zone each day by the gods of the world, slowly chipping away at her humanity.

Relaila knew.

Perhaps it isn’t really about Dina. Maybe it is about me.

Her realization that Remura had manipulated her thoughts still stung. She would have to think about what she could learn from the Dark Flame, small ways she too could assert her independence. Like when Dina had quietly defied her masters by arriving in Terynia a day later than Mardocar had prophesied. Not so much that the gods would bring their wrath down on them, but enough to keep the last vestiges of their consciences alive, hidden below all the atrocities their patron gods were forcing them to commit in their names.

The real problem was, of course, Sir Themur. Never having seen his eyes, she had no idea what he was thinking behind that black, spiked iron helmet of his. There had been that moment of defiance against Mardocar when they first met in Orenleaf, but that might have been triggered only by his emotional connection to the place, and her attempts to kill his great-grandchildren bringing up old memories. Afterwards, he had still seemed completely dedicated to his god.

Then again, maybe he wasn’t quite as stoic as she had first thought. At least he had made little jokes the past couple of days, something she initially hadn’t thought him capable of. Not that that was even remotely the same as questioning the gods of the world, of course. In any case, she’d have to keep an eye on him.

Still, asserting herself had to take second seat for now, she thought. No matter how she felt about the gods, they still had a mission for the Emperor to complete. Fortunately, it should be over very soon. With the three kids now securely in the hands of the imperial garrison, all they had to do now was walk over there and arrange for them to be handed over for execution. Though she still wasn’t clear on how that would work with Mardocar’s prophecy.

“You’re ready?” she asked her friends.

Dina laughed. “I was just about to ask you the same! You’re the one who’s injured.”

“I’m good,” Relaila told her. “It sometimes hurts a little, but that’s just an inconvenience, not a problem. I don’t want to wait longer than necessary. They’ve already been sitting in that cell for two days now.”

Sir Themur nodded slowly. “I agree. We can’t risk them being transferred to Blackrock. I’d prefer not to involve the officers there. Or worse, the count.”

“Yeah, let’s go talk to the captain of the garrison here, then,” she said, putting down her tankard with a soft thump. “I’m ready.”

They rose from their usual table in the corner of the Drunken Cat, left the inn, and walked briskly across the gravel-covered plaza that served as the village’s informal center. At the other end of the square there was a small stream, with a stone bridge across it, and beyond it stood the low keep that served both as prison and barracks for the local imperial garrison.

It was late in the evening, and the sun had already set. The night was warm and filled with the fragrances of high summer, from flower beds overflowing with roses and lavender, and hay drying on the golden fields.

And, of course, from the ubiquitous horse manure littering the streets. Though perhaps fragrance wasn’t the best word for that.

On the small wooden porch in front of the low stone building, the guard captain sat with his feet up on a table and his red-and-white uniform unbuttoned. Lit by a burning torch on the wall behind him, he held a small tobacco pipe with an exceedingly long stem in his right hand, from which he periodically drew, lazily puffing great blue circles of smoke into the mild evening air.

Seeing the three imperial agents approach, he quickly rose to his feet and put the pipe down on the table, casually smoothing his jacket in the process, though he didn’t have time to button it back up.

“Good evening,” he said with a deep, pleasant voice. “Glory be to the Lion! I’ve seen you around the past few days. What can I do for you, good people? I’m Captain Hallak.”

Thankfully, he didn’t put out his hand, wisely avoiding an awkward exchange. Relaila strongly doubted Sir Themur would have taken it. Though, come to think of it, she had to admit it would have been fun to watch.

“Glory to the gods!” the Knight Eternal responded, almost mechanically.

The guard captain nodded to him in acknowledgment, but other than that didn’t seem to take much notice of him, instead keeping his attention on Dina and her.

That was refreshing, and also a little surprising. Most people they met tended to address only Sir Themur, imposing as he was in his heavy black armor, and completely ignore the two women accompanying him.

Then again, she thought with a dark smile, that’s exactly what she was—a woman, and not an unattractive one at that. Perhaps it wasn’t so surprising that he chose to speak to her, after all, instead of to the foul-smelling man standing behind her.

Deciding to play on that, she smiled at the captain. “We understand you arrested three young individuals on charges of disrupting the public order a couple of days ago. Pelam Gathór, Soria Tolmar, and Larean Onyx.”

Captain Hallak straightened his back. “Indeed we did, ma’am. They were most troublesome.”

“And they’re still kept here, in Dawnlight?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m waiting for orders from my superiors in Blackrock on what to do with them. Turns out two of them are not Agerian citizens. It’s all giving me a headache.”

“Well, maybe we can help you there,” Relaila told him. She could see on his face that he was intrigued by her proposal.

“If you were to transfer them into our custody,” she continued, “they’d be out of your hands. From then on they’d be our problem, not yours. Any diplomatic fallout from their arrest would be on our heads.”

The guard captain looked genuinely happy. Given the war, he probably hadn’t cared much about the fate of the Derimar woman, but the Nimean, on the other hand… She could see how the captain might not have relished being personally responsible for increasing tensions with the Compact.

“Very good, ma’am,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “I’ll have my men bring them out to you.”

“Thank you,” she said, flashing him her sweetest smile. No use stopping now.

Captain Hallak tugged at his mustache, absentmindedly curling the handlebar. “If I can just see your credentials, we’re good to go.”

Their credentials? They were operating on direct orders from the gods here. It wasn’t like Remura would manifest a note for them.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she told him, still smiling. “We’re on a mission from the Emperor and cannot disclose the exact nature of our orders.”

For a moment he tensed and said nothing. Then he seemed to relax again.

“Of course, ma’am. I fully understand the need for secrecy and chain of command in the Emperor’s army. And I do not need to know.”

Relaila allowed herself to relax, too. “Thank you, Captain. If that is all...?”

“I mean no disrespect, ma’am, but I’m afraid there are not that many women holding rank in the army,” he told her, slowly buttoning his jacket as he spoke. “If you’re commissioned, you’re out of uniform. And if you’re not—as a captain in the Emperor’s army, I cannot take orders from a civilian.”

She could feel the smile she’d been upholding for the past minutes slowly becoming more and more strained. The man wasn’t disrupting their mission because he opposed the Empire. He was impeding it precisely because he was the Empire.

With that, Sir Themur stepped forward. Towering above the soldier in his spiked armor, the Knight Eternal was intimidating, to say the least.

“I am our credentials,” he barked. Holding up his closed, iron-clad fist a hand’s breadth in front of Captain Hallak’s face, he continued, “This is my uniform. Sir.”

The guard captain didn’t budge.

“And a very fine uniform it is, Sir,” he replied. “But the Knights Eternal are a religious denomination, in service of Mardocar. I’m afraid you are not officially part of the Emperor’s army. It would be unlawful for me to take orders from you.”

This was starting to get out of hand, Relaila thought. Remura, grant me the power to slay the blasphemers, she whispered silently to her patron, the old prayer somewhat less spirited than it used to be. She was still angry with the god of leisure for her betrayal.

To be perfectly honest, she could see Captain Hallak’s point, too. As an officer of the Agerian army, he would have sworn his oath of duty to the Lion, not to the gods.

Divine anger mixed with a heavy dose of impatience started to seep into Sir Themur’s voice now. “Mardocar is the patron of the Empire. I serve him. The Empire serves Mardocar. Your god commands you to release the prisoners to us.”

Mentally, Relaila shook her head. That had probably been the wrong thing to say. If Captain Hallak accepted that, he’d basically acknowledge the Emperor was nothing more than a puppet of the gods. Which, while technically true, would still be treason.

She could feel the change in the air.

Relaila stopped smiling. There was no longer any point to pretend.

The die had now been cast.

“Kill the blasphemer,” Remura whispered at the back of her mind, like a serpent eager for blood. Despite her private rebellion, Relaila had no choice but to obey.

“Soldiers!” Captain Hallak shouted. “Protect the prisoners!”

No one could fault him for his bravery, she thought. Too bad. The Empire needed men like him. But he had made his choice, and now he would face the consequences of it.

Well, she thought grimly, it was the role of man to live—and to die—in the service of the gods. Captain Hallak certainly wouldn’t be the first soldier she’d killed, though he would be one of the finest.

Calling on Remura’s powers, she ignited the air in front of her right hand and propelled it forward. Like the roar of a raging dragon, it engulfed the man, for a moment drowning his terrified screams. But the fire kept burning his body long after she had stopped casting it, and Relaila could see him writhing in agony before he eventually lost consciousness and fell to a heap on the ground, his life ebbing out of him.

Once again, a good man had died by her hand because the gods willed it so.

She could feel the bloodlust, the intoxicating fragrance of suffering and loss. But for the first time since pledging her soul to Remura, she dared to think this was not who she was. Perhaps the thirst for violence wasn’t truly hers, but her god’s, seeping into her mind like water being sucked up into a sponge. If her patron could manipulate her thoughts, it stood to reason her emotions were probably puppeteered as well.

That’s not to say she wasn’t complicit. On the contrary, every person she had killed since she renounced her old life to join Remura had died by her own hand. It wasn’t the god of betrayal who had struck them down. Without her doing the dark deeds, they would still be alive.

More than that, she had accepted the savagery, willingly embraced the bloodthirst of her god as her own. The source of it mattered little, when she had surrendered to it.

But no more.

She would do her job, fulfill her duty to the Empire. She would kill those who opposed the Lion. But she resolved to do so with whatever honor she had left, and reject Remura’s attempts at extracting as much pain from her victims as possible.

She looked carefully at the Knight Eternal on her left, wondering what her new resolve would mean for their working relationship. Dedicated to the gods of the world, he would never understand. She’d better keep pretending she was all Remura’s, or the dark servant of Mardocar might unleash the wrath of the abyss upon her.

Of course, deceiving Sir Themur about her allegiances was no guarantee for safety. Relaila could feel Remura’s displeasure with her decision. If her patron god decided to tell Mardocar, the Knight would quickly learn of her betrayal.

Then again, there was that little tug-of-war she had recently won with Remura. Ever since that day, her thoughts had stayed hers. Perhaps, she thought, the gods weren’t quite as powerful as she had been taught to believe. Maybe the secret of her silent rebellion was something she could keep for herself, after all.

When the soldiers finally arrived, she was ready for them.

But was she ready to face herself?

Author's Note

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