Mulldoos glared at Soffjian. “Told you the bitch would betray us. Betrayed the whole lot of us.”
Soffjian remained still, eyes locked forward, arms folded behind her back, jaw tight, that throbbing lightning bolt vein in her forehead the only telltale sign that she was fazed in the slightest.
Mulldoos laid his hand on his falchion, for all the good it would do, and seemed ready to stalk forward to his doom attempting to cut her down. “Always told him it was just a matter of time. Your kind can’t be trusted further than I can spit, but you, less than that. Plaguing worst kind of horsecunt alive, backstabbing a brother.”
Soffjian kept her gaze level, lightning pulsing, but didn’t say a word.
Skeelana, however, had no such trouble. “You were right about the betrayal, just wrong about the bitch. Soffjian didn’t know anything about it.”
Mulldoos looked ready to spit on the parquet, Commander Darzaak little better, and Braylar was still looking at his sister curiously, as I took a step back, immediately thinking back to the kiss I shared with Skeelana in my room. Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Why?”
I felt everyone’s gaze, but ignored it, focusing on Skeelana who was looking at me with a sad smile. “The Emperor hadn’t seized control of all the Memoridons yet. But still, you betrayed us, the Jackals, that is. Why?”
The Emperor allowed the question to hang there, and if the scrutiny made Skeelana squirm, she didn’t show it. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. “The Emperor demanded an audience with me a while back. And that’s something you can’t say no to, is it? He made it very clear that things were in motion, and soon every Memoridon would be his. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.” She turned to Cynead. “No offense, Your Majesty.”
“None taken.” He smiled, arrogant, at ease, and delighting in having everything play out as he hoped.
Skeelana looked back to me, then the rest of the Jackal Syldoon. “I thought about telling you directly, Commander. And maybe I should have. But I gambled on the Emperor pulling off what he claimed. It just didn’t make sense to throw my lot in with the losing side. So I investigated as he commanded, and reported back when we returned. Had he been wrong, I would have simply been a traitor to the Jackals. But if he was right, well, I would find a place of prominence among the Leopards and Sun Tower. And as it turned out,” she swept her arm up and around at our little assembly, “it was a pretty smart gamble, as far as gambles go.”
“Yes,” Emperor Cynead said, “your diminutive Memoridon told me all I needed to know about your little treasure hunt. And while that alone doesn’t prove you were plotting to use such knowledge directly against me if you happened to obtain it, it is certainly suggestive. And none of that was altogether surprising on your part, though I must admit, did nothing to warm my heart. That is the Syldoon way, to always be on the hunt for an advantage. After all, that is exactly why I was hoping to unearth such secrets myself.”
The Emperor leaned forward, uncrossed his legs. “But no. What I was enthralled to learn about was that peculiar weapon,” he pointed at Blood-sounder and leaned forward in his chair, eyes lighting up. “Yes, now that was entirely unexpected. I’d heard about such things, but assumed they were either myth to begin with, or if they ever existed, had rusted into oblivion. And yet Skeelana has confirmed that this is truly such a find. Now, a weapon that warns, that is tied into memory magic somehow, that could be of service to the Empire… yes, this is something very much worth exploring. Show me.”
Everyone looked at Braylar, and he twitch-smiled, completely at odds with the murder in his eyes as he stared at Skeelana. Very slowly, the captain pulled Bloodsounder off his belt, held it out, chains draped over one hand, the haft in the other.
The Emperor looked at the weapon, several things flickering across his face-greed, lust, triumph, and possibly fear, or at least hesitation. “Yes, Skeelana mentioned the Deserter Gods. Oh, this is a fabulous find. Fabulous. Two or three times, my men in the field thought they had uncovered a weapon that might prove to be something the poets sang of, a piece of legend. Each time, I was skeptical, and each time, proven right. But now… simply fabulous.” He beckoned Braylar. “Come closer. And show me the heads when you do.”
The captain walked forward a few paces until the Emperor raised a hand, stopping him just short of striking distance. Still, all it would take was one step more. Perhaps it was having three Memoridons behind him, but Cynead didn’t seem particularly worried. Rusejenna was the only one who tensed up, and while her arms were at her sides, I noticed the fingers were splayed already.
Braylar took the flail heads in hand, turned them over so the Emperor could see them better. Cynead slapped the armrest. “They are fearsome, for certain. I do hope if we ever see the Gods again, they have a friendlier cast.” He moved forward, hardly on his seat at all, again apparently drawn to take the weapon, but holding himself back as well. “Skeelana says you are wracked with pain when separated for very long. Is that true?”
I gawked at her, remembering all the things I had revealed in confidence, assuming she was beholden to the Jackal Tower.
Braylar replied, “Though I wish it were a falsehood, there is no denying that.”
“So,” the Emperor said, “If you were to hand it to me, just now, would it grieve you?”
Braylar pulled the chains tight, laughing as Rusejenna took a step forward. “Put your hackles down,” he said.
She stopped and replied with a tight smile, “Someday, I will dance to your tears, Killcoin.”
“And I on your grave.” Then he looked at Cynead again. “A little separation would not anguish me. I am happy to hand it over. But I should warn you, Lord Emperor, the bind, the curse, for a lack of a better word, that I am afflicted with. I do not know what will sever it. Nor what might cause it to attach to anyone else. I am hesitant to do anything that might potentially endanger your safety.”
Cynead gave a crooked smile. “Oh, I am certain. Your vigilance is duly appreciated, Captain Killcoin. But no, until we have studied this weapon more, and the binding with you, I am in no hurry to handle it myself. Step back.”
Braylar did as instructed, and Commander Darzaak said, “Studied, Your Majesty?”
The Emperor clapped once, loudly. “Yes, of course. It is a remarkable find, but as your captain astutely pointed out, a dangerous one as well. We would understand it, how it works, why it binds, uncover its secrets and how to make the most use of its power. This could be a great boon to the Empire. But that all requires study.”
Darzaak, as ever, did not disguise his displeasure. “All of my captains are beyond competent-”
“Of course. Or you would not have promoted them. Unless you were myopic and obtuse. Which I know you are not. What of it?”
“Emperor Cynead, I-”
“Commander Darzaak,” he mimicked Darzaak’s tone. “Come to your point.”
“Captain Killcoin can’t relinquish the weapon. Not for long. As you know, and heard.”
“And?”
Commander Darzaak said, “This study would require him then. I wouldn’t willingly turn him over to be experimented on, Lord Emperor.”
The Emperor slowly stood up, and after Hewspear he was the tallest person in the dome. “Your will in this matter is irrelevant, Commander. My Memoridons will study the weapon and its bond to your captain. You can be certain I do not want to see either destroyed or unduly damaged. But when it comes down to it, Bloodsounder is a prize beyond price, something straight out of misty legends-it is worth a thousand captains.”