“And as to trustworthiness, the first scribe’s only lapse of honesty was exaggerating some of his skills. He wasn’t as competent as I was led to believe, but he did not betray us-the simple sod happened to walk into the path of an arrow that was made for me. His crime was clumsiness. It was only the second who actually tried to sell us out. Arki did not fail such a test. He is loyal. Though clumsy as well, which does cause me some consternation, I must confess. But we could easily be on our fourth scribe by now. And we are not.”
The Tower Commander looked at Hewspear and Mulldoos. “Are you of the same mind as your captain here?”
Hewspear said, “I have been wagering on his worth since I met him, and he has not disappointed yet. He even managed not to get himself killed in a few fights, which is somewhat miraculous when you consider his limitations on that score.”
Mulldoos looked at me, pale eyes unreadable, but never comforting. After a long pause, he replied, “I trust my brothers in arms in the Jackal Tower. I trust Cap. That’s where my trust begins and ends. Scribbler here ain’t a Syldoon. Never could be one in a thousand years.” I thought that was the end of it, until Mulldoos added, “But he does have more mettle and grit than you would suppose, just looking at the skinny bastard. And he’s proved useful a time or two.” He said this last grudgingly, but at least he said it. “Do I trust him? No, not a brother, like I said. Do I distrust him?” He shrugged his big shoulders. “Not as much as most.”
“A ringing endorsement,” Hewspear said.
“Considering he’s only been in the company a short while, it’s as like to be as ringy-dingy as he’ll get. And if any of you halfwits was being square here, you’d admit the same.”
Darzaak considered everything, staring at his hands on the table for a moment. “Fair enough. So, Arki, your good captain here managed to acquire quite a bit of old parchment by all accounts. Were you able to translate it then?”
“No. That is, yes, I translated a good amount of it, but not all. Not yet.”
The Commander looked at Braylar. “Not used to doing debriefings, is he?”
Braylar gave the smallest of smiles. “He is smarter than he looks-I swear it. Arki, explain what you uncovered so far.”
I had my writing case in my lap, but everything else had been carted off with the chests of documents. “Of course, Captain. But my notes-”
“Aren’t necessary, just now. The Commander doesn’t want every little detail. Only what you discovered about the Temple of Truth, and their efforts to control the memory witches of yesteryear. Broad strokes if you would, yes?”
I noted that he pointedly did not mention Bloodsounder, or what I assumed were related weapons that had been referenced, like the sword Grieftongue. And so after collecting my thoughts, I recapped as best I could.
When I was finished, Tower Commander Darzaak looked at Braylar again. “So. The puckered arse then. Was he able to elaborate at all?”
“He was indeed,” Braylar replied. “According to him, the underpriest Anroviak was burned alive after his trial. Which should have dissuaded any from continuing that line of thinking or research. The Temple continued hunting and killing the witches. But there was another priest who discovered some of those early records. Likely the very same Anroviak memoir that survived to this day, and some other documents as well. And this priest, Untwik, carried on Anroviak’s work on the sly. And apparently made some headway.”
“Discovered the frames, didn’t they?”
Hewspear said, “Well, the Syldoon have a long history of appropriating ideas from other cultures and improving on them. We simply didn’t know it was this long.”
Darzaak nodded. “So the Anjurians controlled themselves a few witches. We figured as much already, our own accounts hinted at it. But good to substantiate. Still leaves the real big question, though, the one I sent you boys prowling around there for in the first place… did they figure out how to siphon control, steal it from someone else? Break it, rebind it? Anything like that?”
“That’s actually several questions, Commander,” Braylar said.
“Same question in different clothes, more like.”
“Fair enough. The answer to one and all is no, not that we discovered. Henlester professed no knowledge of anything like that, and though he is a slippery eel, everything he volunteered corroborated what Arki had already learned. So I am inclined to believe him. Though you could certainly put him to the Memoridons to test that theory. But either way, Arki still has at least one chest to go through. We might yet unearth what we’re looking for.”
The Tower Commander nodded slowly. “Aye. That we might.” He didn’t sound convinced. Then he said, “You’ve done good work. I’ve read the reports-you’ve suffered losses, and likely more besides since those were penned. The Emperor in his infinite wisdom might have fucked you in the ear some, but could be we still find a way to make something out of it.”
Braylar leaned forward in his chair slightly, gripped the edge of the table. “So why did the Emperor recall us? What is happening here?”
“Wasn’t just you. Cynead summoned back every operative in the plaguing field. You might have been the last, but if there is anybody else out there, it doesn’t matter. The Emperor is short on patience and long on pomp. Called for a Caucus of the Towers, two days from now.”
Mulldoos curled his hands into fists and the look on his face said he wished he could use them on someone. “Never a good thing, a Caucus. Always ends bad for somebody or other. What do you suppose he’s planning?”
“Well, last time it was a bloody business, for certain,” Darzaak replied. “No telling what his motive is now-long on pomp and secrecy, I should have said. But no, it’s not like to be a good thing at all.”
Vendurro asked, “Do you suppose he-” He stopped whatever question he had in mind and tried a different route. “Are you thinking it has to do with Thumaar? Should we be planning escape routes?”
Braylar shook his head. “No, he would have dealt with that in the dark, and only announced anything of the sort after he had rooted out the opposition and destroyed them. Not cause for a Caucus. He has another play in mind. He wouldn’t recall every operative, summon the Towers like this, unless it was something bigger.”
Darzaak agreed and added, “Most of what you boys have been doing was the continued work Thumaar started years ago. To be frank, I am surprised Cynead let you back into Anjuria after Thumaar was ousted. No, I suspect Captain Killcoin has the right of it. The Emperor recalling the lot of you is a bold move, but it serves a larger purpose. And that puts me at ease about as much as sticking my cock in a hornet’s nest.” He stopped and looked at me again. “Get yourself cleaned up, Arki. A bath if you like one. Some food, some rest. Then we need you back to it. Keep translating. Dismissed.”
I stood awkwardly, nearly dropped my writing case, and nodded. “Yes, Commander Darzaak.” I wasn’t sure where to go, and was reluctant to ask.
Darzaak must have seen it on my face. “Ven, show him the way.”
Vendurro stood up alongside me. “Aye, Commander.”
“Oh, and lad?”
Vendurro had been starting toward the door, turned and stopped.
“I was might sorry to hear about Gless. He was a good soldier.”
Vendurro straightened up, nodded. “Appreciate that, Commander. Appreciate that.”
As we walked down the corridor, I said, “As always, I feel as if there are a hundred things I have no understanding of.”
Vendurro laughed. “A hundred? Try a thousand. This is Sunwrack-even them of us who spent most of our lives here have no idea what’s happening half the time, or like to happen two days from now. Place ain’t called Capital of Coups on accident. Towers eliminate Towers, form alliances, break them just as quick, all positioning for power or to keep someone else from seizing it. It’s actually worse when we ain’t at war. Nothing brings the Syldoon together like a common enemy.”