Django Wexler - The Thousand Names

“Jen,” Marcus said, trying to keep his voice calm, “what are you doing here?”

“She’s doing her job as a member of the Concordat,” Janus said. His gray eyes were fixed on Jen. “Completing her assignment from the Last Duke.”

“Her assignment was just to observe,” Marcus protested. It felt weak, even as he said it.

“It was to observe,” Jen said, “unless circumstances warranted other action.”

“And they do now?” Janus said.

“I believe so.” She tossed the empty pistol aside, drew the other one from her belt, and pulled back the hammer. “Colonel Vhalnich, in the name of the king and the Ministry of Information, I place you under arrest.”

• • •

“Interesting,” Janus said, after a long moment of silence.

“Drop your sword, if you please.” Jen raised the pistol to a level with his chest.

The colonel shrugged and let the weapon fall. “May I ask the charge?”

“Heresy,” Jen said. “And conspiracy against the Crown.”

“I see.” His expression was thoughtful. “His Grace may have difficulty making that case to a military court.”

“That’s not my affair,” Jen said. “You’re welcome to take it up with him once you return to Vordan.”

“ If I return. Much better for all concerned if I were to suffer a little accident during the crossing. Swept overboard in a storm, say. I’m sure an appropriate storm can be provided. Sea voyages are so dangerous.”

She regarded him in stony silence. Janus sighed.

“I suppose it would be uncouth of me to mention that there are close to four thousand men outside who answer to my orders? I assume you have the appropriate paperwork tucked away somewhere, but they may not be inclined to examine it.”

“The men will obey their commanders.” Jen looked sidelong at Marcus. “Senior Captain d’Ivoire. I have a commission from the king and the Ministry to assume overall command of this expedition if I deem it necessary. As such, I am placing you in command of First Colonials. Your orders are to detain Colonel Vhalnich and return the regiment to Ashe-Katarion, where it will rendezvous with the transport fleet.”

The formal language made Marcus draw himself up automatically, his aches and pains forgotten. He gritted his teeth. “Jen, you can’t be serious. Heresy?”

“I believe you are aware of the colonel’s interest in acquiring Khandarai relics. If you wish to label yourself an accessory, I am willing to expand the charges. No doubt Captain Kaanos would be willing to assume command.”

“Fucking saints.” Marcus blew out a long breath. “You said you were a clerk . You were lying to me all this time.”

“I neglected to tell you everything.” Jen gave a slight shrug. “It comes with the job.”

“Of course she was,” Janus said. “She’s Concordat, Captain. This is what she does.”

“I’ll thank you to be quiet,” Jen snapped.

“Do you intend to shoot me?” Janus flashed a quick smile. “I doubt it, now that I think about it. The Last Duke needs to know what I know, doesn’t he?”

“I intend to bring you to trial,” Jen said, raising the pistol slightly. “If possible.”

There was another silence.

“Jen. .,” Marcus began.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Marcus,” she said. “Please. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“On the contrary,” Janus said. “I think he finally understands.”

“I’m not going to let you shoot him,” Marcus said. “We’ll go back to the camp, talk this over. I’m sure-”

A flicker of motion over Jen’s shoulder was the only warning. Marcus dove forward, cannoning into her, and they both slid across the dusty flagstones to fetch up against the base of one of the statues. The pistol clattered and spun to a halt beside them. A silver blur hummed through the space where Jen had been standing, hit one of the nearby statues, and bounced off with a single ringing note, sending stone chips flying. The long, curved dagger bounced twice more, leaping like a fish off the flagstones, before it finally clattered to a halt.

The young assassin Marcus had last seen in the colonel’s quarters stepped between two of the statues. He had another dagger, which he tossed idly from hand to hand. Apart from a loose pair of shorts, he was naked, his shaved head gleaming with oil. His chest was striped with bright red welts, as though he’d been whipped.

Marcus didn’t spare the time to think. He grabbed for the pistol, brought it up, and fired. The assassin didn’t even break his stride, skipping gently to one side as if dancing, and Marcus heard the ball ping uselessly somewhere out in the darkness. He was already scrambling to his feet, clawing for the sword where he’d dropped it, as the young man advanced on him and Jen.

“Idiot,” Jen said from behind him. “Get out of the way!”

She gave him a sideways shove, sending him stumbling drunkenly against a statue. The assassin whipped the other dagger at her, bright steel blurring into a line too fast to see. Jen brought her left hand up, fingers splayed, and something sparked in front of her like caged lightning. The knife glanced away as though it had struck a stone wall, and went ringing and clattering off into the cavern.

The young man’s face clouded.

“You are abh-naathem ,” he said in Khandarai. “A minion of Orlanko. We have expected your coming.”

Jen let out a long breath. A grin spread across her face, a savage joy that Marcus had never seen on her before. She let her arms dangle in front of her, fingers working like a violinist limbering up.

“You pestilential goat-fuckers,” she said, in perfect Khandarai. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“You think you are the first to come in search of the Names? We have held them for four thousand years.”

“Until today.” Jen brought one hand up and made a double circle over her chest, the traditional ward against evil. “Ahdon ivahnt vi, ignahta sempria.”

He blurred into motion, covering the distance between them with the horrible, inhuman speed Marcus remembered from Ashe-Katarion. Jen’s hand came up, palm out, and the Khandarai crashed into a wall of brilliant silver sparks just before he reached her. He’d been moving so fast he bounced , twisting nimbly in midair to land on his feet. His next attack was more circumspect, circling Jen and feinting a few jabs to test the limit of her defense. She faded backward, raising her right hand above her head.

The assassin guessed what was coming, or else had access to some sense that Marcus lacked, and he dove sideways as she brought her hand down. There was an enormous ripping sound, as though the air itself were being torn, and something flashed out from Jen in a vertical wave. It hit a statue behind where the Khandarai had been standing, a snake-headed thing with tree-trunk limbs, and cut it cleanly in half from top to bottom with a billow of dust. The separated pieces fell to the ground in a cacophony of shattering stone.

Demon. There was no doubt in Marcus’ mind, not anymore. Janus had warned him the Concordat was after the Thousand Names, but he’d never mentioned anything like this .

He levered himself to his feet and looked around for the colonel. Janus was staring after Jen as she followed the retreating creature. He didn’t seem surprised so much as in awe. That wasn’t quite right, either, though. Marcus was reminded of the very first time he’d seen the man, holding up a venomous scorpion and watching it twist with the same raw admiration a patron of the arts might show for a masterpiece painting or symphony.

“The Panoply Invisible,” he muttered. “Borracio said it passed into Church hands, but. .” He shook his head slowly. “I never thought to see such a thing.”