The Hidden Relic (The Evermen Saga, Book Two) (40 page)

And at least one couple made up for lost time.

43

P
RIMATE
Melovar Aspen brooded in his lush chambers at the Imperial Palace in Seranthia when two separate messages came to tell him he was losing the war.

When Melovar had first heard about the desert men and their siege of Tlaxor he'd diverted the legionnaires he was sending to Halaran and instead sent them towards Petrya. While the reinforcements were still travelling, where they wouldn't do anyone any good, the first message arrived to tell him that this desert prince had conquered the unconquerable city. Prince Ilathor had somehow crossed the boiling waters of Lake Halapusa to the Petryan capital, storming the gates and taking the city.

The Petryans were now out of the war.

Haptut Alwar was dead — caught trying to flee, they said — and the warriors of Raj Hazara would soon be pouring through the Gap of Garl and heading for Tingara and their evident goal, Seranthia.

Then the second message arrived. Moragon, the fool, had been touring Loua Louna when the Alturans crossed over into Halaran, and by the time he'd turned back to seize command of the situation, the Alturan commander had retaken several towns and then liberated Ralanast itself.

Moragon's men in the Ring Forts tried to drive through to the city, but they'd encountered a second army left in waiting for this very eventuality. After a great battle near Mornhaven, the Alturans had left the field victors, and soon the Ring Forts would once again be in the possession of the allies.

Moragon had been forced to pull back to the Azure Plains in Torakon. His position in Loua Louna was untenable, he said.

He then told Melovar the latest piece of bad news with his customary directness. After a coup in Vezna, High Lord Dimitri Corizon had been removed from power.

Now the Veznans, also, were out of the war.

The Primate looked at the ancient book of the Evermen, holding its secrets fast as it sat innocuously nearby. He picked it up and hurled it at the ground.

A guard poked his head in.

"Get me Zavros," Melovar said. "Now!"

As he waited for Zavros, the Primate gathered his thoughts. The Akari had rejoined the Tingaran Empire and Dain Barden was now at Melovar's disposal. The Primate would continue to dangle the relic in front of them, but first, it was time for the Akari to show their worth.

They wouldn't fight in the warmer lands; that was what they had said. Perfect — Moragon was now in Torakon, and the desert men were heading for the Gap of Garl. It was time for Melovar to find out if the revenants' reputation was deserved.

"You summoned me, Your Grace?" Zavros asked, bowing as he entered the room.

"You told me the new plants were functioning well, Zavros. Obviously not well enough. They've taken back Ralanast. Moragon is giving up Loua Louna and pulling back to Torakon."

"It isn't my plants that are to blame. The facility near Ralanast was the first, so problems there were inevitable, but the two other facilities are functioning well. Each body has a certain cost to transport to the facilities and dispose of, as I'm sure you can imagine, but we are easily recouping this cost in essence using the Akari's technique." Zavros paused. "However, Primate, essence isn't everything; you know that better than any. There is no substitute for enchanted weapons from Altura, constructs from Halaran, and Louan orbs and mortars. Half the world's industry is gone, Primate. We've been set back a hundred years."

"It won't matter when I send in the Akari," Melovar said. "Perhaps it's time to convert our friend Dain Barden."

"Are you sure that's wise, Your Grace?" Zavros said. "The Akari are a tight-knit people, and the revenants can just as easily be turned on us as our enemies. It might be better to save that card to be played later, when the revenants are far away."

"Fine," Melovar snapped, the pain of his ruined flesh returning. "I can control him with or without the elixir." He looked around for the one thing that seemed to ease the pain. He finally found his crystal goblet resting on a nearby table, and drank the foul black liquid greedily. "We'll send the Akari to combat the Alturans in the west and the desert tribes in the south," the Primate said, setting the goblet down. "Moragon's legionnaires will fight with them, and we can control Tingara with the templars."

"A wise decision." Zavros nodded. "Sending the Tingarans away is a good idea."

Melovar caught something in Zavros's tone. "Why?"

"Primate," Zavros licked his lips, "word is starting to get out. Think about what the first Emperor did to the Akari. He cast them out and banished them to the north, because people find the idea of animating the dead repulsive, and the concept of recycling the used-up bodies even more so." Zavros let his words sink in. "Then think about what we're doing. We're not the Akari — we don't ask our people to serve in death as they did in life. We're taking prisoners of war and murdering them for the essence in their bodies. Even our own people with the taint won't stand for it, Primate, the Tingarans especially."

"You're one to lecture," Melovar snapped. "What about the things I hear you're doing at your laboratory? Playing with the stuff inside people's skulls, testing how much pain a person can endure before he is rendered insane? Trying to breed women with other creatures?"

"What I do," Zavros said stiffly, "I do for knowledge."

"And what I do, I do for the masses of the world, to show them all that there's another way to rule, with unity above all else," the Primate said.

"I know," Zavros said. "I am with you, Your Grace. I am merely showing you what other eyes see. The masses still respect the Assembly, as they still worship the Evermen. But be careful, Your Grace. I merely ask that you be careful."

After Zavros left Melovar picked up the book of the Evermen. Now, above all else, he longed to find this powerful relic. It was a weapon. He knew it would be a weapon. He lusted after it, thought about it night and day.

Where was it?

44

A
MBER
was stunned by the wonderful normalcy of what she was doing: she was at the market, shopping for the ingredients she would use to cook Miro's supper.

She knew she was welcome at the conference, but Amber had no desire to be with all the lords and officers as they decided their next course of action. She knew Miro would come up with a good plan, and he would tell her all about it afterwards.

But even as Amber picked up and examined withered yellow peppers, squeezed old potatoes, and weighed onions, she still felt apprehensive. It was only the day after the liberation of Ralanast; what if there were some of the Black Army's soldiers still in the city, desperate men who had taken to hiding and hadn't yet been found by Miro's men? Amber tried to force down her fears. Surely she had nothing to worry about.

Miro had tried to reassure her. "Remember," he'd said, "to the guards you were just another prisoner."

Amber had thought about Moragon, and the son the Tingaran High Lord thought was his. "I know," she had said, knowing it was a lie.

More frightened of telling Miro her secret than facing the streets, Amber had refused Miro's offer of an armed escort, eager to turn the conversation to another topic.

Part of Amber thought the journey to the market would do her good. Amber loved to cook and the act of doing something she was familiar with, on her own and completely independent, would do wonders for her confidence.

As she looked at her basket and the items she had gathered, Amber realised she was starting to enjoy herself. She would finely slice the mushrooms and olives and crush the walnuts, combining the trio over a hot pan. After she scooped out the seeds from the peppers, she would stuff the mixture into the cavity of each, and roast them in a hot oven.

Having finished up at the vegetable market, Amber turned down a side street. She wanted to purchase a whole chicken, flattening it and seasoning with herbs and lemon zest. She thought she'd seen the butcher's stall down this alley…

When she didn't find it, Amber halted and turned around, then took a left turn, still looking for the butcher's stall.

Amber suddenly stopped in her tracks, realising she was lost. She began to tremble, but held herself stiff and strong, promising herself she wouldn't be afraid. If she simply followed this street to its end, she would soon be back to where there were more people.

Her face set with determination and her elbow looped through her basket, Amber walked forward, ignoring the cloaked figure huddled in the doorway she was walking past.

Amber wrung her hands as she walked, so nervous that when a hand thrust out and grabbed her shoulder, she didn't even scream, only whimpered. She looked up into the round face and tattooed cheek of a Tingaran.

Surely this was a nightmare. It wasn't happening.

He pulled her roughly to him, so close Amber could smell the stench of his breath. The basket fell out of her arms, clattering on the cobblestones. A few mushrooms rolled down the street, down, down, down…

"You're the whore what gave Moragon that brat," the Tingaran said, holding Amber's arm in a grip of iron.

Amber opened her mouth to scream, but his hand clapped over her mouth.

"None of that, love," he said. "You talk nice and quiet, else I gut you here." The Tingaran slowly lifted his hand away from Amber's mouth.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Amber said.

"Yes. Yes it's you. Luck, she's with me. They can't call me deserter if I bring you in."

"Please, let me go," Amber said.

She felt herself turned around and pushed against the wall. Her hands were tied behind her back at her wrists, and a balled up piece of dirty cloth was thrust into her mouth.

"There's a few of us," the Tingaran said when he was done, "all wondering how we can get home without being hung as deserters."

Amber cried out, but the sound was muffled. Lord of the Sky, was this really happening?

"Don't worry, girl. We'll get you back to your one-armed lover safe and sound. I expect the High Lord will reward us, for bringing you in. You're coming with me."

~

M
IRO
was glad Amber hadn't come to the conference.

As the area of land under the allies' control grew, the truth about the prison camp became impossible to hide. It sickened them all to their core, and if there was one thing they agreed on, it was that they needed to push all the way through to Seranthia, removing Primate Melovar Aspen from power and ridding the world of his evil.

Much was clear now that had previously been rumour and speculation. Recovering as she was, Amber shouldn't hear this.

Miro knew the whole picture now. Some valiant men, perhaps templars rising up against the Primate, had destroyed the Assembly's relics in Stonewater. With their ruin, the Primate's source of essence was gone. This courageous act had levelled the playing field, as both the Black Army and Altura's supplies of essence dried up, and the Primate could no longer produce the elixir he used to control the leaders of the houses.

However in the last few months the Black Army's devastating use of orbs, dirigibles and avengers had increased. The Primate had some new source of essence.

And now they knew what it was.

"We've destroyed the facility completely," Marshal Beorn said, "and the vats with it. I don't think it would do the common people any good to know what went on there."

"Agreed," High Lord Tiesto said. "However I think we can safely assume this wasn't the only site."

"Rumours are that there are two more, both in Tingara. I think Tingara makes sense," Miro said, "simpler logistics and faster transportation of the essence to where it's needed."

"Lord of the Earth, what a mess," High Lord Tiesto said.

"We should make the location and destruction of these… facilities… a priority," said High Animator Salvatore.

"There just happens to be an army in the way," a moustached Halrana lord whose name Miro couldn't remember said wryly.

"There are some items of good news that I think we should discuss," Miro said. "First: the situation in Vezna. High Lord Tiesto, I think you'll like hearing this. Marshal Rogan?"

Rogan spoke, "The Veznan High Lord, Dimitri Corizon, had the taint." Rogan inclined his head to acknowledge Miro. "The Lord Marshal here was on a fact-finding mission in Rosarva when Dimitri was first given the elixir. Dimitri Corizon has since become the Primate's man through and through." Rogan paused. "However, just over a week ago, a minor lord and the captain of the High Lord's personal guard swept Vezna's leadership clean."

"It can't have been easy," Miro said.

"That's incredible news," High Lord Tiesto said. "How did they succeed?"

"Well," Miro took up the conversation, "as you know Vezna is administered from the Borlag, in the heart of Rosarva. Around the Borlag is a moat, and the only way to cross the moat is via the Juno Bridge, a living system of vines and plants, imbued with the cultivators' lore. An activation sequence must be spoken to be allowed across the Juno Bridge, otherwise the bridge… reacts."

"The two conspirators changed the sequence at a very opportune moment," Rogan said, "and let the Juno Bridge do the work for them. They took out Dimitri Corizon and his coterie in a single sweep."

There were murmurs around the chamber at the news.

High Lord Tiesto smiled, turning to Miro. "Yet you've been there, yourself, Lord Marshal, and survived to tell the tale. One day you'll have to tell me that story."

"At your convenience." Miro smiled. "So, High Lord, we can safely assume the Veznans are out of the war."

"Can we expect any assistance?"

"It's highly doubtful," Rogan said. "The Veznans, true to form, are already implementing an isolationist policy. I'm sure they wish they'd never entered the war."

"Leaving us to pick up the pieces," Tiesto said.

Miro looked at his second-in-command. "Marshal Beorn, you're the most up to date with the Petryan situation."