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

Seven

Tali

Kaltoren, Drasken

10th of Satimus

The Kronhus, one of Kaltoren's many towers, didn't have a dungeon in the typical sense, but the wing set aside for the captivity of selected prisoners served the purpose well enough, as far as Tali could tell.

The room Katja Westervelt had been stowed in was luxurious, more a fine guest room than anything equating a cell. Her bed was four-poster, piled high with cushions, and covered by a blanket lined with the same greyish frosthorn fur that seemed to adorn all Drasken clothing. There was also a polished table, large enough to seat a party, and a bath the size of a small boat in one corner, behind a wooden screen.

The only things marking it as something other than a noblewoman's suite was the lack of windows—to prevent a fatal airborne escape—and the pair of guards posted at the door. There'd been fears Katja might be able to conjure if left unattended, but evidence suggested the mercenary had long since lost her grasp on aasiurmancy.

For the interrogation, the table had been moved to one side and a chair given centre stage. When Tali entered behind her uncle and Shira, Katja had already been secured to it. It was a gentle binding at best, a length of rope bound loosely around her waist to secure her. She wore a tight, restrictive jacket, the sleeves sewn into the chest to pin her arms across herself, her hands flattened harmlessly against her torso. It was a garment Tali now knew was worn by mage-prisoners, supposed to be taut enough to resist even the most ferocious struggling.

Tali spared a glance for Heller as the door eased shut behind them, waiting for him to renege on his promise to bring her here today. At first, her uncle and Shira had been reluctant to allow her to join, arguing it wasn't something a sixteen-year-old needed to witness. But Tali was no ordinary sixteen-year-old, she'd countered. Had she not spent weeks fleeing across the Karhes with an immortal on her tail? Had she not been Katja's prisoner for a time? Had she not fought for her freedom, killed for it?

In the end, it was her suggestion that she might have something to offer during this interrogation that swayed Heller. After all, Tali had spent more time in Katja's company than Shira. She would be able to catch Katja out in any lies, if what the captain spilled during her questioning clashed with the scant scraps she'd shared with Tali.

Tali's eyes settled on the mercenary in question. The woman had been cleaned, all the scrapes and bruises she'd sustained in Rabid Dog's crash either fading or bandaged. Her face, now exposed from its near-permanent covering of dirt and grime, was aristocratic and unnaturally youthful.

The Jalin stood a short distance away, arms folded, brows drawn down in consternation. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing the extensive trail of stylised aasiurmantic tattoos scrawled across his skin. She'd been told, since glimpsing the markings on her first day in Drasken, that it was the empire's custom for its Jalin to mark their magical mastery in ink; Fell's accomplishments apparently ensured most of his upper body was illustrated in such a fashion, making him something of a living symbol.

The woman who waited at the Jalin's side drew Tali's attention by being his opposite in every way; shorter than average where Fell was tall, blonde-haired to his dark brown, well-built where he was slender, cold-faced where he was friendly. As small a figure as she was, she radiated power like a thundership engine radiated energy.

The woman and Fell didn't look at one another, nor even lean towards each other in the unconscious manner of long-married partners. Anyone who didn't know them would assume them strangers.

But Tali had been primed by Heller before coming here, and so she knew who this woman was.

Malena van Kaltoren Drakaaren was, aside from being the Keizerin, Fell's wife. They couldn't afford to display their union in public, Heller had told her, because Malena ruled the empire and Fell was its Jalin. "Very rarely are those two positions occupied by a married couple," her uncle had said. "Their combined power is a threat to the rest of the Varkommer." Tali understood the essence of this dilemma through the political rivalry between her father's family and the Imperium's ruling dynasty. According to her uncle, Endarion's first wife had been executed down in the Imperium to prevent the sort of joint power Malena and Fell enjoyed.

The Jalin looked now to his prisoner, his face betraying none of the conflicting emotions he must be experiencing in the presence of a woman whose life he'd ruined. Beside him, the Keizerin cleared her throat and, for the first time, Tali considered how important a prisoner Katja was to have Malena attend her interrogation.

"Our borders have been suffering increased attacks of late, the perpetrators always mercenaries and otherwise unaffiliated forces from the Karhes." The Keizerin spoke in a disarmingly soft voice that Tali imagined could be easily raised to intimidating volumes. "This increase seems to be a prelude to a large-scale conflict, to be executed at some point in the near future. Am I correct?"

She'd addressed the question to Katja and paced to stand in front of her. Katja tensed against her bonds, then nodded.

"Tell me, what is the aim of this conflict?"

"To destroy this pitiful fucking empire." The mercenary hissed the words. All youthful innocence was stripped from her features, replaced with a rabid scowl.

Malena was unmoved. "Why?"

"I have my reasons." Katja thrust her chin at the Jalin. "I was promised that bastard, given to me alive, to do with as I pleased. I had some interesting ideas." She licked her lips, and a sliver of madness made itself known in her eyes.

The Keizerin waved a dismissive hand. "Not your reasons, Westervelt." Katja, as was apparently her habit, spat at Malena but missed. "Why do your superiors wish to destroy a nation on the opposite side of the continent? We have never made violent advances on land outside our borders, nor do we wish to interfere in the politics of others."

Katja let her eyes linger on the Jalin a moment, as if she could convey her threats through her glare alone. In the corner of her eye, Tali saw Heller tighten his hands into fists. Behind her, Shira was silent, as if she'd held her breath.

"You and that cowardly dog Sudarium are planning a second Cataclysm. We mean to stop it."

Before Malena could offer a reply, Fell released a harsh bellow of laughter. The Keizerin shot a silencing look over her shoulder, but he ignored her and mimicked wiping tears of glee from his eyes.

"How are we supposed to do that?" he asked. "This sounds like a nonsense story your leaders plucked from thin air to paint us as villains. I suppose you tell everyone I also eat babies and bathe in the blood of tortured virgins?"

Malena snapped her arms across her chest, and Fell seemed to read the wordless command, as he at last clamped his jaws. "How do your superiors imagine we can replicate what happened ten thousand years ago?" Malena asked. "Even if the details weren't lost to time, I am sure such an event would require more energy than all of us combined are capable of." She paused, considering. "The Cataclysm was caused by a Novhar, after all, and because none of us are Novhar, none of us can do what you accuse us of."

Katja cocked her head. "If we knew how, we would've stopped you by now," she said. "Erdohan's taint stains you."

The Jalin clapped his hands. "Erdohan? So, we're talking about the original villain now? I was being sarcastic."

Malena's voice clipped off the end of her husband's mocking. "Who leads you?"

The mercenary averted her eyes and shook her head, her sharp jaw jutting out in stubborn refusal.

"A man called Indro," Heller supplied. "He's often referred to as 'lord', but I don't know how accurate that is."

"He's human, likely mortal," Shira added. "Or so it seemed from what we saw of him, anyway."

Tali recalled the day in Sinnis where she and Shira had watched the man address an adoring crowd and speak of the evils supposedly committed by the Drasken Empire. She then remembered how Indro had seemed to stare right at her, and how, not five minutes later, the Novhar had confronted her in the city's streets. Heller and Shira left those particular details out, as they'd instructed Tali to.

Malena nodded. "How much power does he have? How large is his army? Where is he based? How is he funding his war?" She listed off the questions on her fingers, shooting them like aasiurmantic cannonballs at Katja. The mercenary maintained her aggressive ignorance.

"It would be in your best interest to answer, Westervelt," she pressed. "I will do you the service of granting you a punishment based on your noble status if you cooperate. You will avoid a death sentence."

Katja spat again, this time working her jaw to gather a mouthful. It spattered at Malena's feet.

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For the first time since the questioning had commenced, Malena looked back at her husband with something other than indifference. She cocked a brow and Fell moved forward to take her place before the prisoner.

Tali couldn't help but notice the amicable front he'd presented when they'd landed in Kaltoren a few short days ago had vanished. In its place gleamed what Tali could only assume was the emotionless façade of a master politician, a man who cared nothing for the individual before him. Perhaps this was the man who'd once been capable of murdering most of Katja's family in cold blood.

"Your father serves me now," Fell said, capturing Katja's attention immediately. "I caught him not long after he abandoned you, and he begged on hands and knees for his life, and that of your daughter. He works for me, doing whatever I want him to, whenever the urge strikes me. He's away right now, and your daughter is in my custody." Fell knelt before her, far enough away to be out of range of her untied legs, should she wish to kick him.

Menace weighted his tone, and his eyes gleamed with something anathema to the friendliness often found there. He was more than three hundred years old, Tali reminded herself; he'd had a long time to master his emotions.

"How many members of your family did I kill? Your mother and brother, certainly. A couple of aunts and uncles and cousins, too. Do you really think I will baulk at killing one more?"

"You wouldn't," Katja said. "She's a child."

"You remember her, then?" Fell said with a tilted head. "Renna's sixteen now. Hardly a child." He rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll punish your child in your stead, because I know you don't care about being hurt. She's a budding aasiurmancer like your father, so I'll start with her non-dominant hand first. One finger at a time, every hour until you answer the Keizerin's questions. If you talk, I'll let you see her. I'll even let you see your father, if you wish."

"Fuck my father," Katja seethed. "You want to use him as leverage against me, you should know only his dead body would please me." Her shoulders drooped. "But leave my daughter out of this."

Tali shifted in place, brushing her shoulder involuntarily against Heller's. He looked down at her and noted her frown. Calling to mind how reluctant her uncle had been to let her join him here, she smoothed her expression and looked away, trying to seem unmoved by Fell's threats and Katja's reaction to them.

"The Empire of a Thousand Kings," Katja eventually murmured. "He's based out there, has been conquering nations one at a time. Most of his forces are mercenaries, though I imagine he has a professional army made up of the soldiers of the places he's swayed by now. I don't know how he funds his conquests. As for power, if you mean aasiurmancy, he doesn't have any. He executes most mages he finds, makes the rest of them abandon their magic. I had to when I joined. So did my bastard father."

Malena took a moment to digest the information. After a prolonged stretch, she said, "Does he have any favoured lieutenants?"

"I delivered my prisoners to whichever mercenary army was closest," Katja said. "I never bothered to learn names."

Fell glanced across at Shira, and she nodded. "She dropped off Verden's survivors to a mercenary army," she clarified. "It was a considerable force somewhere in the far west of the Karhes."

"Slaves," Tali murmured, more to herself.

She inadvertently drew the attention of everyone in the room. For the first time, Katja noted her presence; something like betrayal flickered across her features, and Tali struggled to sever herself from the mercenary's plight. As tragic and unfair as the story of her family's murder was, and as irreversibly damaged as Katja seemed by her ordeals, it didn't justify her destruction of Verden and the dehumanising of its victims.

"Many were killed in the streets as the Shifting City fell," she said, more out of a need to fill the silence she'd created. "But some were snatched by the attackers. We were marched past them as they were forced to kneel with blades against their necks."

Heller's hand skimmed her forearm, and Shira set a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"There must have been hundreds of them," Tali added.

"Thousands," Shira said, barely a whisper, her words a knife to Tali's heart.

Suddenly, Tali didn't feel so guilty about Katja's predicament.

The Keizerin nodded, then steepled her hands in front of her. "Very well," she said, addressing Katja. "I thank you for all you've shared. You will remain in this room until I decide what to do with you." She turned on her heel and departed without another word. Her absence carved a considerable void into the charge atmosphere.

Katja's eyes tracked her movement, then slid back to the Jalin. "My daughter?"

Fell quirked an odd little smile. "Was never in any danger," he said. "Nor is she in my custody. I wouldn't have hurt her."

"You lied?"

"Would you rather I was telling the truth and planned to maim her?"

Tali saw some of the defiance leave the mercenary's body in her posture's slumping. Katja had been outmanoeuvred by her fear for a daughter she hadn't seen in years and, though the Jalin could claim to have never intended to hurt her, his threats had seemed authentic enough. After all, he had killed most of the Westervelt family.

"Can I see her?" Katja's voice was quiet and broken.

The Jalin's smile disappeared. "She's spent most of her life in Kaltoren, with your father, trying to live the life you denied her. She has no interest in you. I doubt your father's even spoken of you to her. It's for the best."

The mercenary jolted against her restraints. As loosely tied as she was, she managed to shift her chair forward and jostle her hands slightly down from where they were fastened to her chest. Before she could utilise the small freedom she'd won herself, Fell whistled. Like perfectly trained hunting dogs, the two guards outside the door stormed in and fell upon the struggling woman, holding her down against the chair.

Fell swept his arms towards Tali, Heller, and Shira and directed them out into the hallway beyond. The Keizerin had already disappeared, and without the presence of the two guards, the corridor rang hollow.

"Come on then," Heller said after Fell had shut the door behind them. "Why'd you have us here for that? We hardly contributed."

Fell had reclaimed his usual happy expression, the cruelty he'd displayed when facing Katja shed as easily as an unwanted coat. "I imagine our mutual friend would benefit from learning what Westervelt had to say."

Tali heard the slight note of petulance in the Jalin's tone. From the way he scoffed, she guessed Heller had as well. She supposed the Jalin still regretted losing Heller to the Fensidium.

"I imagine he would," Heller said. "You want us to pass it on?"

"I think that'd be best."

Shira interjected. "Are we returning to headquarters, then?"

"I was sent out to find Tali and get her to safety." Heller jabbed his thumb towards Fell. "We did that. Nothing else to do but go home and see what happens next."

Fell swatted the thumb away. "I imagine what comes next involves the Arisen," he said.

"Does it?"

Fell glanced at Tali. "Your niece told me an Arisen worldstrode her and Shira to Sinnis. The same one you claim chases her still. That would be one." His tone held obvious doubt at the story, but he didn't press for the truth. "Whether this Arisen is allied to Indro and his ilk might become relevant."

"Fine," Heller said, "I'll bite. You said one. That means you think there's more."

Fell wagged a finger at his former student. "I know, actually," he said. "Your brother confirmed it for me."

"I'm assuming you mean the brother who actually gets things done, and not the one who sits in his fancy estate and preaches caution."

Meaning, Tali guessed, her father Endarion, rather than Valerian, the uncle she'd never met. The thought sent a jolt through her, and for an absurd moment she hated that her father was somehow present here, many hundreds of miles away from home. He didn't belong in the halls of Kaltoren's sky-piercing towers any more than he seemed to belong in Tali's own life.

Fell elaborated. "His agent in Empyria found out the campaign against Kalduran was provoked by the Caetoran himself, who's apparently been employing an Arisen and their assassins to eliminate chosen targets. Both your brothers were on that list of targets, though I'm told both still live. This is why the Iron Wolf defected to us."

"Well, that's a lot to take in," Heller said, floundering for a reply. He raised his heavy brows. "You think the Imperium's Arisen is linked to the one chasing my niece?"

It didn't matter the 'Arisen' pursuing Tali was actually a Novhar; there was every chance the two entities were linked. After all, if two supposedly extinct immortals were alive and active at the same time, what were the chances they were ignorant of each other? Slim to none, Tali decided.

"We can't afford to think otherwise. Especially if this Indro gets his war against us."

Heller nodded. "My main question is: why does Indro think you're plotting another Cataclysm? Either someone told him, and they'd need a motive for that, or he's come up with it on his own, in which case he's delusional as well as well-funded and powerful."

The Jalin pressed his mouth into a severe straight line. "I've never had any contact with the nations across the Karhes. As far as I know, none of Drasken's rulers have. Considering some of my colleagues have been alive for millennia, you'd assume someone would know something of this supposed second Cataclysm and how we were managing to pull it off."

"Unless it's just an excuse," Shira interjected. She passed her gaze between the two men with a frown. "What you said about the Imperium's Arisen, about how the Caetoran used them as an excuse for a war he wanted? What if Indro's doing the same thing?"

Heller snapped his fingers and followed her logic. "What does a nation of mortal non-mages fear most? An empire governed by immortal mages. All Indro needs is the suggestion of ill intent, and he's got his support."

Fell said, "That's almost too neat to be plausible. If Indro turns out to be a warmongering madman, the fight will be easier for us." He heaved a sigh. "Aside from the conflicts in Kalduran and our eternal scuffles with the Karhes mercenaries, Drasken hasn't been at war since its foundation."

Tali listened with downcast eyes, wondering whether the Jalin meant for her to hear any of this. He didn't seem like the type to blindly spew whatever delicate information came to mind, and Tali's involvement with Indro and her 'Arisen' pursuer meant she had a right to know if she was still in danger in Kaltoren, but she was becoming increasingly aware of how out of her depth she was.

Heller's arguments about her being sixteen years old sounded more sensible now.

"We'll take this to Sudarium, see what he thinks," her uncle said. "Might be we get posted out in the Thousand Kings to monitor the situation."

Which meant her uncle and his cadre were leaving. For a long time. And Tali abandoned in their wake, as usual.

Fell dipped his head in thanks. "I need to discuss this at length with the Keizerin. Let me know when you're leaving, and I'll make arrangements to move Tali to the College."

He turned to leave, but before he'd made it more than a couple of steps, Shira called after him. "What will happen to Katja?"

Without looking back, Fell answered, "She's of equal use to me dead as alive, so we'll see."

After he'd left them alone in the empty corridor, Tali turned to Heller. "This is it, then."

"Don't make it sound so final," her uncle replied.

"But it will be, won't it? You can tell me. I might be a child, but I understand some things. I understand that there's a war in Kalduran. I understand something's happening in the Thousand Kings, and it'll come to Drasken eventually. I understand that the Novhar isn't done with me yet. I understand—."

Her uncle clasped her forearms, steadying her, halting her before she could talk of all the things they'd sworn to secrecy. "I don't think of you as a child who needs to be shielded from everything, Tali."

"Then why drop me off here? Why not take me with you? I can help."

"You deserve some peace before it all goes to shit," Heller replied. "You deserve time to hone your magic and prepare yourself for the fight that's almost certainly coming."

She remembered the plummeting inferno of the mercenary thundership she'd shot down with a fireball at Verden and thought of how useful such power could be to her uncle. But then she remembered how she'd fainted, twice, when worldstriding, and knew she was as untrained as Heller implied.

"We'll come back for you, once the Jalin thinks you're ready," Heller said.

When would that be? Years? Decades? How did the immortals of Drasken even measure time when a mundane lifetime was a heartbeat?

Rather than ask, she simply nodded, defeated.