“My ma and pa didn’t like it,” he muttered, eyes still downcast. “Godly reasons, they said.”
“Are they aware of your current . . . activities?”
He shook his head. “Only if they’re looking down from the heavens they was always going on about. Last purge but one. Emperor didn’t like their holy books, see?”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, continuing to shuffle in nervous expectation.
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” she asked.
“Brotherhood don’t let their Blood-blessed trance. Too worried the Cadre might be listening.”
She pointed him to a stool next to the bed. “Please, sit.”
After some hesitant fidgeting, he duly sat on the stool, though his eyes remained fixed on the floor.
“It won’t hurt,” she assured him. “Though the first time is confusing.”
He clasped his hands together, hard enough to make the knuckles turn white. “Ma and Pa’s cleric told of how the trance steals part of your soul,” he said in a strained murmur. “Said you lose a piece of your soul then the gate to the heavens is barred to you. S’why they wouldn’t take me to try for the Token.”
“I thought the Brotherhood eschewed such notions,” Lizanne said. “Didn’t Bidrosin call religion the ‘triumph of delusion’?”
“She did. But it ain’t easy setting aside all you learnt from a young age, miss.”
“I’m sure it isn’t. But we have a mission, you and I, a mission that requires mutual understanding, and trust.” She reached for the Spider and disconnected the vial of Blue it held, removing the stopper and holding it out to him. “You can trust me, Hyran.”
After some more fidgeting he took the vial, eyes flicking up to meet hers for the first time. “How . . . How much?”
“Just a sip will suffice for today,” she said.
“Aren’t we s’posed to talk awhile first? Become friends or some such?”
“A brief acquaintance will suffice for basic communication.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Drink up.”
He did so, grimacing at the burn before handing the vial back to her. “They said you’d try to take all I know,” he said, watching her raise the vial to her lips. “Korian said it’s a good job I hardly know anything.”
Lizanne smothered a laugh and drank a small amount of Blue. We all see more than we know, my lad.
? ? ?
Arberus slipped back into the role of cavalry commander with practised ease, though the addition of an eye-patch and spear-point moustache did much to reduce the chance that a fellow officer might recognise a disgraced major of Imperial Dragoons. His dark green uniform and black cap marked him as a lieutenant in the 18th Light Horse, an undistinguished regiment often called upon to assist the constabulary in matters of internal security. He rode at the head of a dozen men, all members of the Brotherhood with sufficient military experience to pass for soldiers. Lizanne rode in a prison wagon of sturdy oak construction with barred windows and a slat in the floor for her bodily needs. She wore only a rough woollen smock and her unwashed and unbound hair was tangled with several days’ worth of grime and sweat. After two weeks on the road she must look quite frightful, which was all to the good. Also, thanks to a painful but necessary procedure undertaken before leaving Corvus, she had a persistent and acute pain in her lower jaw.
They met other travellers on the road, mostly traders carting their goods to the capital’s markets who were quick to shuffle onto the verge and lower their gaze at the sight of Imperial soldiery escorting a prison wagon. Occasionally they happened upon a constabulary check-point which invariably required Arberus to exchange curt pleasantries with their commander before proffering his forged orders. The sight of the Interior Minister’s crest was usually enough to discourage further questioning but not all members of the constabulary were so easily cowed.
“Can’t take any chances, Captain,” one particular check-point commander said. “What with all the trouble in the capital.” His boots thumped on the wagon’s rear step as he climbed up to peer at Lizanne through the barred window on the door.
“A traitor, eh?” he asked Arberus. “Sure she’s not a whore too? I can see her as one, but not the other. Though I wouldn’t give more than a few pins for a gobble off that mouth, the state she’s in.” He moved back, glancing to the side. “Unless you’re offering a free go?”
“Don’t let appearances fool you, Inspector,” Lizanne heard Arberus reply in a commendably mild tone. “You’ll likely find yourself short a few inches.”
The inspector grunted, looking down as he read something. “No name on the warrant,” he observed, without any particular surprise. “Another one for the ranks of the disappeared, eh?”
“My orders come directly from the Interior Ministry.” Arberus’s voice had taken on a clipped, cautionary note. “Experience teaches me the folly of looking too closely at the particulars.”
“Quite so, Captain.” The man’s brutish face lingered behind the bars a moment longer, Lizanne staring back at his predatory lust with studied indifference. More than a few inches, she decided. I’ll take his balls too.
“Very well.” The inspector disappeared, his barked commands audible through the wagon’s sides. “Raise the barrier!” The oak planking next to Lizanne’s head gave a loud thump as he pounded a fist against it. “Enjoy your time in Scorazin, my dear!” he shouted with a laugh. “I hear a whore can last at least a month if she’s generous enough!”
? ? ?
“I’ll stop by and kill him on the way back,” Arberus said. They had halted for the night, allowing her the chance to engage in the daily stretching exercises she employed to prevent her muscles atrophying during the journey. He stood at the wagon’s door, face framed in the barred window. She had forbidden any temporary liberations during the journey lest such a conspicuous breach of procedure attract attention.
“No you won’t.” Lizanne groaned a little as she raised her torso, keeping her legs straight and arms outstretched. “Much as I appreciate your chivalry, personal vendettas are a barrier to successful mission fulfilment.”
“I hate it when you talk like that.”
She looked up at the harsh tone in his voice, finding his face set with suppressed anger. “Really?”
“Yes, really. It’s like you step back from being you, becoming . . . someone else, someone Exceptional Initiatives made you into.”
“They didn’t make me into anything. They only refined what was already there.” She arched her back, sweeping her arms over her head so her body described the shape of a drawn bow. “And if they hadn’t, I doubt either of us would be here now.”