Wolves of Empire [EPIC DARK FANTASY] [Book One Complete]

Two

Sephara

Empyria, the Imperium

3rd of Satimus

The city of Empyria was afire with news of the Iron Wolf's defection, and Sephara found herself swept up by a landslide of her own making.

Courtesy of the Caetoran's worldstriding messengers, the Prodessium learned of the disastrous battle beneath Varanos's walls a mere day after the still-loyal Imperial armies, under Dobran Tyrannus's temporary command, fled for their lives. Through Endarion Boratorren's actions, the Imperium had lost three of its seven fielded armies to defection and sent three of the remaining four bolting back through Kalduran with its collective tail tucked between its legs. What had started as a moderately successful Imperial campaign to conquer the Drasken province of Kalduran had become a crippling defeat and could yet devolve into a catastrophic civil war.

Sephara knew she was partly responsible for it all.

Her uncle had been the one to turn his forces, of course, but Sephara had provided him with some of the incentive to do so. Endarion had tasked Sephara, months ago now, with finding out who had assassinated his aunt, Warmaster Novissa Boratorren. The woman's murder beneath Endarion's statue on the Path of Triumph had ignited hostilities between the Imperium and Kalduran in the first place, and at the time he'd believed unveiling the true killer would end the campaign before it began in earnest.

Rather than a single assassin, Sephara had discovered an entire network of shadowmantic killers who owed their allegiance to an immortal Arisen godking. They'd been hired by the Caetoran's nephew, Khian, to systematically murder the Boratorrens and their allies. The godking himself was Dexion Mendacium, the Captain-General of the Praevin and the man Sephara had spent a couple of months seducing.

The discovery of Dexion's true nature had been enough to convince her to keep her distance, lest the man realise Sephara had exploited their courtship; Sephara knew she'd have to return to Dexion soon, though. Not only to assuage any suspicions Dexion might have about her motives, but to fulfil the promise she'd made to Rexan Sudarium, a promise she already regretted.

Sudarium, overseer of a renegade mage cabal known as the Fensidium—a cabal Novissa had secretly served prior to her death—wanted to know who Dexion worked for, because the Arisen was being directed by someone even more powerful than himself. Sephara was certain she didn't want to cross paths with someone intimidating enough to command an immortal godking, but she'd agreed to help, just as she'd agreed to help her uncle, so long ago now. Perhaps she just had a problem saying no to people.

She sat now in the Prodessium's expansive hall, in the front row of Denjin Reign's seating beside her father's stoic form. The meeting had been called the morning after news of Endarion's defection had reached Empyria, no doubt to discuss how they were to deal with Endarion and his allies, and Valerian had arrived early. Sephara, in the guise of his common-born bodyguard, had been obligated to join him, and had already spent a good hour perched on the unforgiving stone seats, shifting her position every few minutes just so she didn't go mad with boredom and discomfort.

"My brother should not have been given those documents," her father murmured without deigning to look at her.

Any goodwill Sephara had garnered by fulfilling Endarion's task evaporated in the brief time since she'd convinced her father to share with Endarion what she'd learned. Valerian had wanted to withhold the information—documents which tied Nazhira, Khian, and Janus to the slew of assassinations—because he feared how his brother would react. Sephara had challenged him, believing her uncle had every right to know. Endarion had, after all, almost been assassinated himself. If anyone had earned answers, it was the Iron Wolf.

Of course, the very first thing Endarion had done upon receiving the documents was prematurely trigger the insurrection he and Valerian had been plotting for decades. He'd been threatened into attacking Estrid Elerius, Valerian had told her as soon as Palla returned to Empyria to warn him of his brother's actions. Rather than kill the woman, he'd turned on Dobran and, with Estrid's support, had driven the man into a hurried retreat.

Though Valerian had stressed that it was also Estrid's involvement, and not solely the documents Sephara had discovered, that had steered his brother's hand, she couldn't help but nurture blame for how this unfolded.

Even now, Valerian's words played in her head. I will hold you responsible for everything that follows.

Would Endarion have defected without the documents? There was no way of knowing, and so Sephara had to assume he wouldn't have.

"Would you rather they'd killed him in the field after he'd conquered Kalduran?" she whispered back, ducking her head to hide her mouth. "Who would've been your sword then?"

Valerian awarded his daughter the barest glance, heavy brows drawn down in customary sternness. "There were other options."

No options that didn't end with either Endarion dead or the Imperium at war with itself. As much as her father might partially blame her, Sephara had already convinced herself she'd made the right decision. After all, the Boratorren family as a whole was too powerful to be threatened, even if one of their members marched on his homeland. As far as Sephara was concerned, they had nothing to fear. Yet.

By then the Prodessium's wedges of seating had filled. Or, rather, had filled as full as they were going to get. Built to seat upwards of a thousand individuals, all separated into their Reigns, today the vast, opulent hall was glaringly empty. Most of the Imperium's nobles were either at war or at home collecting the raised war taxes; only a scant three hundred or so attended today. Sephara found her eyes drawn to the front row of Adhistabor's wedge. Usually Dobran, the Caetoran's younger brother, would occupy the central seat there, but today someone else filled it.

Her breath locked in her throat as she resisted the urge to sink down where she sat. When Dexion Mendacium's intense blue eyes skimmed across to her, as if similarly drawn, she feared she would spontaneously combust.

The Captain-General's lips twitched in a wolfish smile, and it took a moment for Sephara to force herself to reply in kind. As far as Dexion was concerned, nothing had changed between them, and they remained two people in the early stages of their casual courtship. He didn't know Sephara had discovered he was an Arisen, an immortal thousands of years old who'd once ruled the eastern half of the continent. He also didn't know Sephara had been the one to steal sensitive documents and hand them to her uncle, thus sparking Endarion's defection. Though, from what Sephara had overheard Dexion saying to Khian, he knew Sephara had stolen his keys. How hard could it be for him to make the logical assumption and blame Sephara?

Whether Dexion suspected her or not, she'd need to visit the Praevin compound soon.

Valerian caught her looking and huffed a low sigh. One of the only things she regretted sharing with her father was her seduction of the Captain-General; Valerian Boratorren was the most prudish man alive and openly disapproved of his youngest child's methods.

He couldn't utter an acidic comment, however, because the Caetoran's arrival smothered all conversation. The attendees fell silent as Janus Tyrannus, ruler of the Imperium, shuffled through the hall's centre towards the replica of the Invictum Throne at the far end. He was clad in a padded greatcoat designed to emulate current military fashion, but the additional layers did nothing to disguise his emaciated form. He was only a handful of years older than Valerian, yet he looked withered and grey, his face a sallow canvas of wrinkles, his back crooked, his steps uncertain and slow. Sephara had heard rumours that a tendency towards inbreeding further back in the Tyrannus family line—thankfully the line unrelated to the Boratorrens—had resulted in Janus's crippling weakness and his inability to sire an heir of his own. Though she didn't often listen to such rumours, Sephara found the evidence compelling as she watched her father's cousin creep along.

This was the man who'd forced her family's hand by contracting the Caesidi assassins. This was the man her father and uncle plotted against. This was the man they'd spent most of their lives dreading.

Behind Janus strode his nephew, his antithesis in every way. Where Khian, as the noble with the lesser rank, should've been his uncle's shadow, it was Janus who appeared a feeble echo of the younger man. As Warmaster, Khian was the Caetoran's voice in all things military. He'd been awarded the role after his predecessor, Novissa, had been assassinated, though his elevation was by virtue of his family name, rather than any skill or experience. It was testament to the Caetoran's domineering grasp over the Prodessium and its attendant nobles that no one had challenged Khian's elevation more than two months ago, just before the war with Kalduran erupted.

Sephara had to admit Khian played the role of vainglorious martial hero well, with his tall frame and broad shoulders, his raised head and straight back. But he'd never held a command in his life, had never fought in a pitched battle, and only touched a sword if it was to duel, where the rules kept him safe.

The Caetoran slumped into his throne, spindly arms folded in his lap. Khian took up position at his side, his proud posture rendering the Caetoran even smaller. The youthful sheen to Khian's Castrian-dark complexion only made Janus look all the paler beneath him.

"Honoured Exalt-Lords and -Ladies of the Imperium of Adhistabor," Janus began, his voice as dry and brittle as dead wood, "no doubt you have all been made aware of events that transpired beneath the walls of Kalduran's capital, Varanos, two days ago."

Even from as far away as she was, Sephara saw Janus run his eyes across the ranks arrayed around him, as if he could isolate the traitors with just his gaze. "We have lost three Imperial armies and gained three traitorous enemies. Ricardus Naevon and Kavan Aza are mere lackeys." His attention speared the wedges of Asineo and Quendinther, the two Reigns the mentioned arch-generals hailed from. Ricardus's elder brother Caelinus stared back uncowed. "Not even a full month after he barbarously razed the city of Dykumas to the ground, Endarion Boratorren turned against his own people and drove my most loyal soldiers away from the prize we had rightfully earned. He attacked the loyal defenders of his own country, and marked himself as the basest of traitors, all for the sake of the turncoat Elerius."

Anger strained the Caetoran's voice, and he thumped his weak fists against the arms of his throne. Khian, perhaps sensing the devolution of his uncle's mood, cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"The last time a general turned against his nation, civil war erupted and an empire that'd stood for millennia was toppled," the younger man proclaimed. "I am talking, of course, about Cnaeus Casus. The Iron Wolf may be just a sickly shadow of that man, but no doubt he means to accomplish the same foul deeds. He will turn against us, with Kalduran at his side, and he will topple us."

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Invoking Cnaeus Casus was a cheap move, but effective. The infamous general had brought an end to the United Empire of Adhistabor more than seven hundred years ago, when his ambition had aimed him at a throne he wouldn't have otherwise been able to obtain. He, like Endarion, had been granted the title of Paramount-General and given command of an empire's entire armed force. Most Imperials considered Casus a reprehensible villain and comparing Endarion to him would ensure the Boratorrens lost any support they might've otherwise boasted.

Not that Endarion himself had much support. Valerian had always been the face of their insurrection, the orator with the clever words, where his brother was the brutal sword who dealt in threats and intimidation. Their supporters were already backing away. After today, they'd be haemorrhaging old friends and patrons. She doubted even her father's most pandering promises would entice them back.

"I have already spoken with the Castrian ambassador, and she has agreed to provide us with more of her troops to help us defend the city, in the event the turncoats invade. We already have twenty thousand in place in Aukruna, ready to assist Arch-General Tyrannus, but we propose that another thousand be brought into Empyria." Khian watched the crowd, perhaps waiting for dissent. But he'd provided them all with an image of Cnaeus Casus reborn, and no one would deny him. "All in favour?"

Predictably, the majority stood. Valerian, trying to further distance himself from his brother's actions, climbed to his feet as well. Khian marked this, though his small smirk was too enigmatic to understand.

"In addition to defending the city in the event of a full invasion, Castrian soldiers will be allowed to bear arms within our walls."

A shocked intake of hundreds of breaths, Sephara one of them. In all the Imperium's history, only the Praevin, Empyria's policing force, were permitted to be armed within the capital's domain. The rule had been implemented as a way of keeping conflict out of the city, to avoid something like the chaos that had followed Casus's attack on his own homeland. It was supposed to convey an impression of peace and stability. To allow anyone, let alone foreign soldiers, to ignore this rule was unprecedented.

Sephara looked over to Dexion to gauge his reaction, but he was stone-faced. Either he'd already been told, or else he accepted the decision now.

"There have been further assassinations in the previous days," Khian continued, "and I would appreciate everyone's cooperation in unveiling the culprits. The Castrian soldiers will oversee this investigation and should be treated with the same respect afforded the Praevin."

At this Sephara straightened, stunned. More killings? How was that possible?

Among the documents she'd given to her uncle had been a list of all the intended targets. But that list had reached its conclusion with the attempted murder of Iana Mallian, an act Sephara had prevented. There were no more targets.

Again, she looked to Dexion. He was the Caesidi's master, the one who'd overseen the assassinations. Had he ordered more that she didn't know about?

She noticed Dexion stared at Khian, who stared right back. The pair bored into each other with such intensity, Sephara was sure she felt the heat of their anger from where she sat. There was something more going on, then, because she knew the Warmaster and Arisen had been cooperating with the murders. Was Dexion having his assassins target people not sanctioned by Khian? Would she have to seduce her way back into Dexion's trust to find out?

"We are certain Drasken is organising these killings, and we will soon have the murderers captured and punished as efficiently as we punished the Baltanos's envoy."

Sephara swallowed a snort; despite everything she'd found out, Khian and Janus still claimed the first assassinations—beginning with Novissa's and ending with the attempt on Iana—were the work of the luckless envoy Aladar Baltakis had sent to treat with the Caetoran.

"As far as the crippled wolf and his traitorous allies are concerned, be assured that we are fully capable of defending our own borders. I expect that, in a few months at the most, we will have Endarion Boratorren and Estrid Elerius, the puppet-masters, in our custody. They rebelled together, and so they can die together." Khian again favoured Valerian, flashing his perfect teeth in a bloodthirsty grin. There was no doubt what his intentions were; prolonged torture and a dehumanising and public execution for both Endarion and Estrid.

Valerian didn't take the bait, instead returning the Warmaster's regard with his usual lack of emotion. The young man surrendered to impatience and stepped back to the Caetoran's side.

After that, the Prodessium focused on its usual roster of mundane discussions and debates, and Sephara's attention wandered. She found her gaze drifting by increments back towards Dexion, as if she were a lovestruck youth unable to look away. Idiot, she chided herself.

Even now, knowing what she did, she couldn't marry up the Dexion she'd bedded with an immortal tyrant, couldn't picture him as anything other than the jocular man she'd wooed. She supposed it explained the ageless quality he possessed and her inability to guess his true age. She might've placed him in his forties by virtue of his position in the Praevin and the time it must've taken to get there, except he didn't look more than a decade older than her own twenty-two years. In truth, he'd been alive at least four thousand years ago during the Arisen Theocracies, and was probably older than that.

How could she ever stand in his presence again and not be cowed?

When the Caetoran formally ended the Prodessium and was escorted out by his nephew, Sephara shot from her seat with the intent of fleeing. It was partly to avoid an encounter with Dexion, but she told herself it was otherwise.

Her father seized her wrist. "Where are you going?"

"To find out who else has been assassinated," she replied, leaning close to whisper. "The list ended. If there's more, I need to know. We need to know."

Valerian scoffed. "My brother needs to know as well, I presume."

She shrugged. "Maybe."

He let her go, and she lost herself in the crowds filing out of the Prodessium Hall.

―

Sephara needed information, and she knew of no better purveyor of such commerce than Kesa Hult, First Mistress of the Heaven's Paramours. Though one of Empyria's most exclusive, and therefore most prized, prostitutes, Kesa had carved out another niche for herself as a respected spymaster. It was Kesa who'd first suggested Sephara seduce Dexion to gain what she wanted from him, and the advice had so far served her well. Kesa had also been the one to offer proof the Kaldurani envoy had nothing to do with Novissa's assassination, so many weeks ago now.

On her way to the Paramours' headquarters, nestled deep within the wealthy spread of the Myriad District, she'd called in on her younger cousin, Lexia, who eagerly tagged along.

"I thought we were done with this shit," the girl said as they wove their way through the wide, cobbled streets. "I'm glad we aren't, of course. I was worried life would become boring again."

Lexia had insinuated herself into Sephara's original investigation, and her aid had so far been invaluable. Sephara had decided to bring her along today mainly to keep her updated, but also because her parents, Iana and Endarion, had both been targeted during the original assassinations, and she'd taken it personally.

The Paramours' base projected from the uniform ranks of Myriad estates like it had something to prove. Where the rest of the city was built from the Novhars' original white stone, the Paramours had painted their building in flashy, luxurious shades of scarlet and navy, and draped the front with banners depicting the summery backdrop of Castrio, Kesa's homeland. Sephara and Lexia were recognised by the guards waiting at the front gate and borne in without a word.

Though she'd been inside the building several times already, Sephara still found herself lost and disoriented by the time they fetched up at the door to Kesa's private room, towards the top rear of the structure.

The fine oaken door swung open at Sephara's knocking, and Kesa Hult stood on the threshold. A sculpted statue of a woman, Kesa was tall and willowy and dark-skinned, possessing of the sort of agelessness often only found in immortals. Had Sephara not known the woman—and even been somewhat related to her—she might've wondered if Kesa was yet another Arisen in disguise.

Her son by Endarion, Bekker, stood behind the desk in the centre of her expansive room, as silent and stoic as always. He shared a rare, brotherly smile with Lexia, then resumed his disciplined pose.

Sephara felt the soft roving of Kesa's gem-like blue eyes down her body like the light touch of a lover and ducked her head to conceal a rising blush. Her uncle had once warned her that Kesa might try to lure her in with seductive looks and suggestive words, but even having been alerted Sephara still wasn't immune.

"This is an unexpected pleasure," Kesa said. She pointed to her desk and waited until the two younger women claimed a seat before taking her own.

Unlike the expertly tailored dresses she often wore, Kesa now donned simple trousers and a plain shirt under a stylised military-inspired coat of Castrian purple, its collar sharp and buttons gleaming. Somehow, the outfit looked dazzlingly extravagant on her, and Sephara suspected she'd make even rags look like a queen's garb.

"How can I be of service today, Miss Barum?" Kesa said, using Sephara's false name.

"More killings," Lexia interjected, leaning back in her seat and doing her best to look composed.

Kesa regarded Lexia with one perfect brow quirked upwards, and Sephara found herself wondering what the woman thought of the girl. Lexia was her son's half-sister, of no relation to her but irrevocably tied by her connection to Endarion. Sephara's uncle had tangled their family tree by siring four bastards by four different women in addition to his sole legitimate heir, a fact Valerian was endlessly irritated by.

Sephara clarified. "At the Prodessium, Khian mentioned that there had been more assassinations. He said Castrian soldiers were being brought in to investigate, but I didn't hear of more deaths."

"That is because they were not publicised," Kesa replied smoothly. Her lack of reaction proved she already knew the details. But then, how could she not? She had connections everywhere.

"I thought it was over," Sephara murmured to herself.

Kesa leaned on the desk, letting her unfastened jacket fall slightly open. Even here, among family and allies, she was ever the seductress. "The victims are not, like the first set, affiliated with the Boratorrens in any way."

Sephara frowned. "They aren't?" That made no sense. Dexion had orchestrated the killings specifically to crop Boratorren power, because that's what Khian and Janus wanted when they'd hired him through Nazhira.

"None of this is confirmed, of course, but my sources have provided me with names," Kesa said. "The first, Regulus Dumerian, was four days ago. He was the heir to the Corajus of Uldhen and a relative of Arch-General Byrria Dumerian. The second, three days ago, was Gallus Tetius, one of the chief suppliers of Korzha Mazilu's army. A day later was Justa Rom, a noblewoman who had recently married into the Rom family."

Dumerian, Mazilu, and Rom. All enemies of the Boratorrens, one way or another. All three of those families currently had their arch-generals in the field alongside Dobran Tyrannus, preparing to fend off Endarion as he advanced on his homeland. In fact, they were the families Valerian and Endarion had never managed to sway to their cause.

Kesa marked Sephara's understanding. "Yes, either the Caesidi have been bought out by someone else and are targeting Boratorren enemies, or…"

"Or they're going off-script," Sephara finished.

The only people who would hire the assassins to target her family's enemies would be the Boratorrens themselves, and Sephara was almost certain none of her relatives had done that. Not only was a knife in the dark not their style, but they wouldn't align themselves with the very killers who'd targeted them in the first place. Besides, no one but Sephara knew what the Caesidi were, and who led them.

Then she remembered the way Dexion and Khian had stared at one another, a challenge in their gazes. Something was going on. Dexion had wielded his Caesidi against the Caetoran's allies, a direct reversal of what he'd been hired to do.

"Why doesn't the Caetoran just unveil Dexion and have him executed?" Lexia asked. "If a dog turns against his owner, he's put down."

Kesa glanced at the younger woman. "Most of the time your turned dog doesn't possess sensitive knowledge that could cause your downfall."

Sephara nodded in agreement. "If the Caetoran or Khian tries to challenge him, Dexion will just reveal the truth. They can't touch him, and Dexion knows it. That's why he had those documents in Nazhira's office, a paper trail."

"The real question is," Kesa added, "why has Dexion turned?"

"And," Sephara countered, "who's giving these new orders?"

When she'd agreed to be Rexan Sudarium's agent in the capital, he'd asked her to find out who Dexion's superior was. Dexion himself had mentioned a master during a conversation with Khian she'd overheard. A master who, it now seemed, had changed their mind regarding which noble families they wanted to target. Or maybe they hadn't changed their mind, and Dexion's attack on the Boratorrens was just a small part of whatever larger plan he was part of. Was the entire ordeal an attack on the Imperium as a whole, then? If an unknown party wanted to unsettle, or even topple, the Imperium, it made sense to exacerbate the blossoming and well-known discontent between the Boratorrens and the Tyrannuses. Such interference would lead to the triggering of the very insurrection Sephara had had a hand in fomenting with her discoveries. If that was the case, had she inadvertently helped this hidden party by giving Endarion justification in his rebellion at Varanos?

Either way, she needed to find out. And to do that, she'd need to return to Dexion, the mastermind, the Arisen, the immortal tyrant.