23 Thickening the Plot

‘I CANNOT ALLOW it,’ said the imperatrix, before draining her goblet. Thankfully, it contained water. Threadfin could hope this new version of his sister would last, not that it made her amiable to suggestion.

Lyrin shut her mouth with an audible click, while Beezer glowered across the broad table, this time located in a chamber adjacent to the throne room. There were several dishes on silver platters, including seafood and guck for the virals. Threadfin shoved his own bowl of guck away, and reached with a knife for a piece of rare grolg steak. Bloodier the better was how he liked it these days.

Raziel did not eat or drink, which had Threadfin wondering if angels needed to. Unlike Angelborn, who were half human, Raziel’s flesh was borrowed. Well, sort of. Suffice to say he wasn’t in on all the details of how it worked. Maybe they created the flesh with magic, or they took the body of an insane person. It wouldn’t have surprised him if they didn’t eat, but he recalled Adal had posed as a fat conclavist, and he had been a veritable glutton. Maybe it all had been an act? Must have been, he supposed.

He shrugged and stuffed the meat into his mouth, blood running down his chin. Mysteries. Angels loved them. Just another fancy word for riddles, and Threadfin hated those.

‘You must,’ insisted Lyrin after a visible effort to calm herself. ‘It is clear Paladin Virtue is his replacement, as Threadfin here has indicated. Even Raziel concurs that it is possible.’ A glance at the angel in question, revealed a solemn and silent visage. When it concerned angels, he could be a stubborn tight-lipped bastard.

‘Imperatrix,’ Lyrin continued, ‘you have already told us such replacements are chosen by their predecessors, but never raised with such speed. Unprecedented, was the word you used, wasn’t it?’

‘And with the predecessor still alive too,’ added Threadfin, still chewing. ‘I imagine that’s a first.’ The meat was tough. All told, he preferred beef but it wasn’t as readily available in Icarthya. He shrugged and reached for another. The draconic part of him was ravenous these days. He spotted Beezer glowering at him, and gave him a bloody grin in return. Anything to unnerve the old vulture.

‘What you are suggesting,’ Sarscha said in a calm and measured voice, ‘could start a civil war between Church and Throne. They know you tried to capture Rajax. They have their spies, remember, and they are furious.’

‘Furious?’ asked Threadfin. ‘The old codgers don’t even want to admit he existed. As I told you, one of them approached me late last night. He climbed all the way up to Wept, old bastard that he is. I know, it shocked me too. Must admit, I thought he’d have a heart attack. He told me who Virtue really is. They know more than you realise, and this one was so worried about having his wealth stolen, he volunteered the information. He looked ready to commit murder to protect every dralan.’

The imperatrix’ eyes narrowed. ‘Why would he fear his wealth being stolen?’

Threadfin tried out one of his innocent faces. ‘I dunno, must’ve been something I said. Let’s just say they love money more than protecting their own.’ He paused, as she continued staring at him, and then added. ‘Fine, I may have insinuated that Rajax is about to rob them blind.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said his sister, ‘I have also received messages from the Forum. You, brother, are not the only one to have had visitors in the night. Warnings and threats, in fact. Since the Church helps finance the Throne through its Forum, and thus finances our legions, I can hardly go to war with them. The answer is, no. We have already taken too many risks. Find another way.’

Threadfin swallowed a chunk of meat noisily. He had known this would happen. ‘If Virtue is an angel, and I’m as certain as I can be that she is, we can’t ignore her existence in the Forum. I do not believe in coincidence. Rajax must have placed her there before he disappeared.’

Sarscha was drumming her fingers on the table, watching him. She raised her goblet and gulped down some water, and then said, ‘Paladin Raziel is an angel, as you are all well aware.’

Threadfin glanced at the angel who was sat there listening but offering nothing. Rajax hadn’t just been in hiding. He could’ve hidden on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Instead, he’d infiltrated the Forum for whatever reason, known only to him most likely, and had gone to the trouble of finding a replacement once he’d been discovered.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ said Threadfin, ‘you were a paladin too. Not anymore though.’ Had Raziel known who Rajax was? Did the angels want to influence the imperium or control the money, and to what end?

Raziel smiled, offering up his hands apologetically. ‘There is a darkness within the Pantheon and among its paladins. A growing darkness, which does not tolerate ones such as Ralan or myself any longer. Our time there has ended. I doubt Virtue will last long either. I do not think I can be of much aid to you in this. Also, I have no desire to fight another angel, nor harm one.’

‘You know who she is, don’t you?’ Threadfin said, stabbing at another piece of steak while eyeing the angel. ‘You—’

‘Brother,’ said the imperatrix with a sharpness to her tone, ‘that is enough.’

‘Fine then. All I know is, Paladin Virtue replaced Rajax immediately after his disappearance. She’s in league with him. We must do this.’

Sarscha sighed. ‘I believe you, but she is a member of the Forum, one of twelve paladins of the Pantheon. Your plan is unacceptable. They could turn my legions against me. They have spies within the palace and among the soldiers.’

‘Turn them against me, you mean,’ mumbled Threadfin while chewing and then swallowing with a loud gulp. ‘I’ve no doubt the legions are loyal to you, and always have been. There isn’t enough money in the Church’s coffers to buy your soldiers off. Your name is a legend, a legend which cannot be bought and paid for.’

Sarscha grimaced, shifting in her seat. ‘Even were that true, I would still argue against this. You suggest risking civil war and I cannot do that. Besides, Creed would find someone to buy off.

‘Assassination would become a greater threat than before. They can also withhold all monies, which I need to continue the rebuilding. There is still a lot of starvation in the further reaches of the imperium, and despite my progress with the primes, Byrsa remains a hornet’s nest of criminals. My answer remains, no.’

‘At the very least,’ Threadfin persisted, ‘you could speak to Paladin Creed, alone if need be. We just need to talk to her.’

‘Who do you think sent me the warning?’ Sarscha said. ‘No.’

‘No,’ repeated Beezer as though there was an echo, and in a less than calm tone, glaring at everyone from beneath the hood of his black and red dalba. ‘Speaking to Creed would be a waste of time. She could just vanish like Rajax. I’ve had my eye on that old crone for some time, and something isn’t right about her.’

Threadfin was starting to feel ill, and glanced down at the platter of meat. A platter he’d managed to clear, leaving a puddle of blood. It might have been the meat, but he knew better. The Grim was stirring in the depths of his soul. Time was not on his side. Lyrin was watching him and raised an eyebrow, but he gave a slight shake of his head.

The silent interaction had not gone unnoticed by his sister. ‘I am aware of how precarious your situation is. Our situation. There must be another way.’

Threadfin sat back and shut his eyes for a moment, going over everything he knew, and especially what he didn’t know, which was of greater importance. ‘Without Paladin Virtue, we will never find Rajax. I’m certain of it.’ He opened his eyes. ‘It ends here, our search, today. Is that what you want? To condemn me and the world?’

The imperatrix rose, shoving back her chair. She strode towards one of the broad lead lined windows, looking out through the bubbled glass. Her fingers were fidgety, suggesting she needed a drink. He had to admire her restraint.

After a long moment of silence, she said, ‘You’ll have to make her vanish afterwards. Word can never get back to Creed of what we’ve done. I need plausible deniability.’

Threadfin said nothing, and neither did the elder mages. They waited, perhaps not wishing to jinx their turn of luck.

‘Also,’ added Sarscha, ‘it can never go beyond this room.’

‘The five of us here,’ Threadfin agreed, ‘and three others. Uh, no, wait, four ... no, three. Yes, three.’

She turned from the window to regard him with a frown.

He shrugged. ‘We are going to need some help. Being an angel, she is likely powerful.’

‘The three, then?’

‘My Darken, who is sworn to obey me and will never speak of it, don’t worry about that, plus Sergeant Vilt and Captain Grudge.’ Vilt was already following Virtue at Threadfin’s order, but he decided to leave that bit out. ‘Both are loyal, and have proven it many times. Besides, Grudge never remembers anything not pertaining to his dear departed mother.’

‘It may not be enough,’ Raziel noted.

‘See, I told you,’ Threadfin said, pointing a finger at the angel, ‘he knows who she is and what she’s capable of. Anyway, we’ll manage. Unless you’re volunteering to help us?’

Raziel looked troubled. Guess, we’re getting no help from you then. What use is having an angel to hand if you can’t use one now and then?

The imperatrix strode back to the table. ‘I meant it when I said she will need to vanish. I am sorry, but there can be no room for misunderstanding in this. I will not allow a civil war. Not again.’

‘I will not kill her,’ said Threadfin. ‘I’ll find a way believe me, but not that.’

‘This is war,’ snapped Beezer, ‘and in war there are casualties. We will do whatever we must. If she tells us how to find Volcanus, she will not suffer, I promise.’

‘This isn’t just about ridding my soul of the Grim,’ snapped Threadfin, eyeing his competitor. ‘You want the Crystal Sword too, don’t you?’

Beezer had been leaning with forearms on the table, but he sat back, examining Threadfin as though he was a disappointing student. ‘The war is not going our way.’ He gestured at Raziel. ‘It’s not going theirs either. We need weapons to fight with. Volcanus has the most powerful soul shard in existence.’

He then glanced at Raziel who nodded his agreement, however reluctant. ‘Dealing with the Grim is also necessary,’ Beezer continued, ‘so you can call it killing two birds with one stone.’

‘I like birds.’

‘We have no choice.’

‘I know my enemies,’ insisted Threadfin, wondering for the first time if it was true, but deciding to keep his doubts to himself, ‘and Virtue isn’t one of them. We will not harm her.’

Lyrin had remained silent during this exchange, and did not look pleased. Neither did Raziel, but Beezer was nodding his consent to the imperatrix. ‘I will make certain Paladin Virtue will not trouble us.’

‘No, she will not,’ said a new voice, as a shadow broke away from a corner of the room. To suggest Threadfin received a shock might by some have been deemed an understatement.

His chair on its side, Threadfin picked himself up, feeling a fool. Nothing new there then. Beezer’s frown from deep within his dalba confirmed it. The others, all but Beezer, looked surprised too, not that it was of much comfort. They hadn’t fallen off their seats.

‘It is ... interesting,’ said Striga, as she joined them, although she didn’t sit, ‘to meet you again, undead one. You seem nervous. It wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?’

Threadfin waved a hand in her direction, avoiding eye contact of course, while addressing his sister. ‘What is she doing here? You do know what she is, right?’

‘I ...’ Sarscha began, and it was then he realised she hadn’t expected this either.

‘The Son of Grim has sat at this table before,’ Beezer said lazily, ‘so what difference a daughter?’

‘You mean, apart from the technicality that she isn’t an actual daughter?’ Threadfin knew it was a pointless argument, no matter if he was right. He liked being right though.

Lyrin was casting a vicious glare at Beezer, and Threadfin watching them, realised what had happened. ‘Ah, I see, you’ve been plotting away behind my back. It seems you don’t trust me to get the job done, eh Beez?’

‘Because he knew you would object,’ said Striga, ‘and strenuously. However, we are on the same side, Todder.’

‘Are we though?’ Threadfin did look at her then, doing his best to appear like an imperial mage, and not a clumsy fool who’d fallen off his chair. He thought he offered a decent mage impression, when it was warranted. ‘I wasn’t asking you, but since you’re feeling free with the truth, what are you doing here?’

‘This concerns her too, and the other surviving Torments,’ said Beezer, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

‘You are referring, I assume, to the fact that the Grim, her master—'

‘I think it’s safe to say, former master,’ interrupted Striga.

‘—has latched himself on to my soul,’ he finished. ‘Bad enough I’ve got him interrupting me when he feels like it, now I’ve got her at it. Why not troop them all in here just to get on my nerves?’

‘You can hear him in your mind?’ Striga asked, stepping closer, with a look suggesting she either wanted to rip his head off or kiss him. She’d always been confusing like that. ‘What does he say to you?’

‘Nothing nice about you. Right now, he’s spitting and cursing, and sometimes giggling. I think he’s gone insane, or I have.’

The Torment grinned, and Threadfin felt cold. Virals didn’t get cold.

‘Very well,’ said the imperatrix. ‘I guess, this changes everything. The Torment will also help you capture Virtue.’ She gave Beezer a long hard look, as though she hadn’t decided whether to be pleased or disappointed. ‘If it goes wrong, we can blame it on Striga. I’m sure a Torment can handle a few angry paladins. Threadfin, you are to include her in your plans and put any differences of yours aside. Am I understood?’

And just like that, the planning for the kidnap, interrogation, and potential disappearing of an angel, not to mention, a paladin of the Church, was complete.

Threadfin had never felt so sick in all his miserable existence.