I hoped so. Nodding thoughtfully, I gazed into the dregs of my beer. “I hope so.” I looked up at Sapphire. “I don't suppose you will tell me what is happening in the north?”
“We heard rumors.”
That's it? I felt like saying. That's all you are going to tell me? But I couldn't muster the effort nor see a single reason why he should tell me more. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, I advised myself. Think. Say that that is done, say the armies raised are enough to crush them and set things back in order, although I was having some thoughts on that, which for now I was trying not to conceptualize. What then? It didn't seem the right time to open a new can of worms. My thoughts were disjointed, nebulous and there were more important things.
“We have to get you out of here,” I said, meeting Jocasta's eyes and meaning it. “They will be looking for me, are looking for me now. I won't say you are crazy for bringing that stone here, you didn't know the risk. But there are turncoat battle mages among them, and the loupe. They can learn and they have stone enough to do damage. If they get their hands on that monster they could raze cities.”
She looked grimly determined. “So can I, and so can we. If it comes to it, you know we will.”
I nodded. History had shown that clearly. Rogue mages had appeared in the past, taken control of kingdoms covertly or overtly, then tried to oppose us and been crushed utterly, their followers slaughtered to a man in some cases. “I know that, but I would rather it not come to that. Wherever these necromancers come from we will inevitably track them to their source,” I glanced at Sapphire, “as soon as word gets back,” he nodded, he would report independently, “and we will crush them utterly.” We are jealous of our power, of the stone that is the source of our power. No one else would be permitted to have it, let alone use it against us. “But still, you are in danger while you are here, and that stone must not fall into their hands.”
She nodded acceptance of what I was saying but didn't respond. Dubaku had said nothing. He just sat in his chair and watched. Sapphire leaned against the door. Still. Watching. His thoughts his own.
“Where's Meran?”
“On duty. He'll be back later, this afternoon.”
“I thought he was one of them. Saw him at the gate. He saw me.” I finished my beer. Resisted asking for another. It wasn't easy.
“It's how we knew where you were. He and Sapphire were in touch.”
“How did you know I was even alive?”
“I checked the bodies,” Sapphire said.
I looked at him and thought about it. “That's either a lie or an attempt at humor.”
He shrugged. “I didn't know. But I couldn't go anywhere. There are still things to do.”
“Places to go. People to kill. Sorry. Forget that. I'm glad you are here.”
He seemed to accept my apology. I wasn't sure. He didn't give much away. Maybe naturally the type, maybe training, maybe both. I wondered where my father had found him. He was a northerner, no mistake. Pale blue eyes, dusty blond hair, pale skin.
“And you?” I turned my attention back to Jocasta
“I didn't know either. But I wanted to know for sure. The stones, I harmonized them so I could find you. I knew you were in the town, or at least that the stone was, and came looking.”
“You have another stone?”
Without a word she took it and passed it to me. “You should have this.” The ruby red stone was set in a plain silver necklace, held by a claw. It was a one carat stone, like mine, more a badge of rank than a useful tool. It was hers. I slipped it over my neck and snicked the clasp closed, tucking it into my dirty, soiled shirt.
“I need a bath. Clean clothes. What happened to you when you got here?”
“I was sneaking about in the city when Sapphire recognized me. He had found Dubaku also and he was hiding out in an abandoned cottage. Sapphire had also made contact with Meran.”
“You were busy,” I commented.
Sapphire shrugged. “You do need a bath. I have spare clothes. I steal them regularly.”
I nodded. It was the first piece of information he had volunteered and I appreciated it, though it wasn't much. I steal clothes. Different kinds, I assumed, to blend into different situations. Spy skills, assassin skills. It was a subtle admission that I had him pegged.
“They will be searching. Maybe with magic, certainly on foot, we don't have much time.”
“We know. We have plans. Trust us,” Jocasta told me. “Take a bath.”
“Tell me about the necromancer,” Dubaku said.
It was almost the first thing Dubaku had said to me since I had seen him and I gave him my full attention, meeting his expressionless eyes. “They are priests.” I put every ounce of loathing and disgust into the word priests that I could muster.
He nodded, once, and then was still again. It was all he needed to know, I guess. I told him about Jerek anyway. I wanted to talk about it, didn't want to talk about it but couldn't help myself. His expression didn't change. Not one bit. Jocasta shed a tear, almost unnoticed. I didn't blame her. I didn't tell them what the spirit had said, or what Kukran Epthel had said about that. They had found something I loved, all right. I loved booze, and my admission shamed me with its honesty.
72
The bath was good. Not as good as I had once been used to, but good. That thought alone caught me by surprise. 'Once was used to.' A month ago and for my whole life prior to that, had been reduced to 'once was' and forgotten. There was a lesson in that somewhere, but I just didn't know where. Hot water was harder to create on a small wood burning stove but we gave it our best shot. It was good enough. I soaked and thought. Slavery. That's why they were doing this.
It was a pretext, a lie, obviously. Kukran Epthel knew all about slavery, the slavery of lies that force invalid action on the believer of the lie, the slavery of oppression, corruption of the individual to ensure their obedience. He was an enslaver, no doubt. But I had been made to start thinking and I cannot stop, or lie to myself. It's my nature. So was slavery inherently evil and was I, were we, evil to practice it? I could not, for the life of me, think of a culture that I knew of that did not practice slavery in one form or another. We are not cruel, less cruel than some. A slave has rights and some freedoms, though not the freedom to leave. Many sell themselves into bondage to make money and use their skills to make more, buying themselves free in time. True, their status would forever be changed to freedman instead of free, but becoming a slave was a solution for some and for some a way to progress their careers in the halls of the powerful. A man or woman with extraordinary ability and skill can become indispensable to a man of influence and affect the law, change the world. It was no small thing. Those made slave due to conquest were our enemies; and what were we supposed to do to them? Leave them to ferment rebellion? Kill them all? No. Better to remove them and give them a new life, should they choose to accept it and work within a legal framework to better themselves. Some also worked their way free and stayed or returned home as they pleased. Those who returned were changed and developed by exposure to our civilization, our open, honest, slightly corrupt way of doing things. They usually did well, changing their own culture somewhat; they often acted as ambassadors of our civilization, knowingly or unknowingly. Some became administrators and furthered our cause.
And what was our cause? Freedom, peace, prosperity. Do what you want but don't be a pain, do not harm us in any way or we will harm you, do not interfere with trade. That was it in essence. Okay, one or two adventuresome patrons had instigated wars and prosecuted them ruthlessly. They had the power, and the freedom, to do so. They had not, in the long run, prospered. On one occasion that immediately sprang to mind the ruler in exile had petitioned another patron to prosecute the offender and won. It didn't help the dead, but every single slave taken in the campaign had been located, compensated, and returned home at the expense of the losing patron. One or two civil wars had occurred when one patron took the part of defending a foreign land against what he deemed an unwarranted war. Not for free, I might add; we are not selfless and I saw no reason why we should be. Some lands had been given over for his tax gatherers to loot; and I freely admitted to myself that tax gathering is no more than demanding money with menaces. What else can it be? It is the same everywhere. It has to be said that some patrons were immoral, cruel, arbitrary, but what can be done about that? Having gained power a sane
