Luke Scull - The Grim Company

‘Indeed, General,’ said Grand Magistrate Timerus. He placed a long finger on his chin and observed Cole as a lizard might regard a cockroach. ‘You played your part in this to perfection, young man.’

‘My part?’ repeated Cole. He was lost.

Timerus raised an eyebrow. ‘I took great pains to ensure the Obelisk was all but undefended. It was I who ordered the militia on the east gate to stand down when the Supreme Augmentor sadly passed away.’

‘You gave the city to the mercenaries? But you’re the most powerful magistrate on the Grand Council!’

Timerus tutted softly. ‘You don’t think a coup could have been achieved without influential support in Dorminia, surely? That cretinous half-man probably thinks himself very clever, but he too was nothing more than a pawn. And as for power… I found my ambitions uncomfortably stifled by the city’s erstwhile Magelord. One does not simply wait for an immortal to die of old age. A more active approach was needed. The White Lady was most receptive to my terms.’

‘She will honour the agreement,’ said the pale woman in a deadpan voice. ‘You will rule Dorminia as her regent. So long as you remember your place.’

‘Of course,’ replied Timerus, bowing smoothly. ‘I live to serve our mistress.’

Cole’s head swam. It all made sense, except…

‘Garrett and the rest… They’re dead. Murdered.’ He frowned suddenly at Remy. ‘How did you escape? You were at the temple. You fixed my nose. I remember.’

Timerus smiled, but not a single trace of warmth reached his glittering eyes. ‘Ah. He doesn’t know, does he?’

Remy shifted uncomfortably, glancing to the left and then the right and finally scratching at his grey stubble. ‘The Shards, well… We weren’t going anywhere fast. I was tired of living like a beggar. Tired of listening to Garrett’s grand schemes while nothing ever changed except his pockets got deeper. I put the feelers out. Someone bit, and it wasn’t quite the fish I was expecting.’

‘What Remy is trying to say is that he sold out your little band of rebels,’ Timerus said. ‘Fortunately for all concerned, it was me he chose to rat to. Had it been anyone else the course of events might have run entirely differently.’

‘I never expected-’ Remy began, but Timerus raised a hand to cut him off.

‘To keep up appearances and to present Remy as a credible turncoat, it was necessary for everyone involved with the rebels to die. I had the Supreme Augmentor carry out the order. I can tell by the way your teeth are grinding together that this revelation displeases you. Well, young man, sacrifices needed to be made.’

Sacrifices needed to be made . Cole’s fingers twitched closer to Magebane’s hilt.

‘Garrett was dying anyway,’ Remy said. ‘He had early symptoms of blacklung infection.’

‘If you can’t take a city by force, you crush its economy. The poisoning of the city’s merchants began last year.’ Timerus paused for a moment and inspected his nails. ‘Blacklung is a most potent creation, impossible to detect and incredibly versatile. It can kill in a few minutes — as the incident in the Grand Council Chamber so ably demonstrated — or a year, depending on the level of concentration. Why, Marshal Halendorf’s expiration was planned to perfection.’

‘About that,’ said Remy. ‘I believe the poison has found its way into the Warrens. Many of the city’s urchins have been dying recently.’

Timerus shrugged. ‘So long as it is contained, I see no cause for concern. In fact, it is probably for the best. I understand the White Lady has little tolerance for rubbish. We will commence a more thorough cleansing operation in the near future.’

Cole had heard enough. He drew Magebane and advanced on Remy. ‘You treacherous bastard!’ he screamed. ‘You killed them all! Men you knew for years! My family!’ He raised the glowing blade — only to suddenly find himself confronted by the pale woman. She loomed menacingly close, barring his way.

Remy shook his head. ‘Don’t be an idiot, boy. You don’t want to do this.’

Cole spat in his face.

The physician’s troubled expression contorted and became angry. ‘Family?’ he sneered. ‘Sasha was the only one who ever had a good thing to say about you. Even Garrett despaired of you.’

‘He loved me!’ Cole shouted back.

‘You deluded idiot. You think Garrett became rich by being sentimental? He was a merchant . He took you in because of Magebane. All this talk about your father and you being some great white hope, it was all bullshit. You were an investment. Nothing more.’

‘You’re a lying bastard,’ Cole said, his voice breaking.

Remy laughed suddenly, a thin, reedy sound that was nonetheless thick with contempt. ‘The only bastard here is you. If Garrett ever did have a son, it was Sasha. And from what I heard, she’s seen more cock between her legs than you ever will.’

A brief silence followed his words. After a moment General Zolta began to chuckle, a sharp whooping sound that set his men off. Suddenly it seemed everyone was laughing at him. Remy was in hysterics, snot dribbling from his chin. Even Timerus looked amused.

Cole began to shake. He stared around him wildly, at all those faces mocking him, showing him the truth of what he really was. With the guffaws of the men behind him twisting like a dagger in his back, he turned and ran.

Salazar, the Tyrant of Dorminia, perhaps the single most powerful wizard who ever lived, was splattered all over the Obelisk’s courtyard, looking like something a giant bird had shat out.

Eremul finally tore his eyes away from the pulpy mess and stared out at the darkening city beyond the courtyard. Timerus and his ratty old sidekick had passed out of the Obelisk and into the Noble Quarter an hour ago. Accompanying them, to his utter shock, had been one of the White Lady’s odd creatures. The Grand Magistrate’s face had been insufferably smug. It hadn’t taken long for Eremul to conclude that he must have been plotting against Salazar all along. He had clearly underestimated the fellow.

He glanced again at the remains of the Magelord. It was a strange thing, seeing the man he had hated for so long come to such a spectacularly gruesome end. Now the initial rush of elation had worn off there was an uncomfortable sensation in his chest, and upon further reflection he realized what it was.

Emptiness.

Those with nothing but vengeance to live for are condemned by their own bitter victory .

He had read that in a book somewhere years ago and had thought it a heap of horseshit — the usual tripe written by authors whose aphorisms were about as relevant to the real world as his own cock was to the satisfaction of Dorminia’s collective women.

As it happened, the bastard had been right on the money.

He stared out at the city again. Was that a scream he had just heard? He thought he smelled smoke on the air.

With a final glance at Salazar’s corpse, he wheeled his chair out of the courtyard and began the long trek back to the harbour and the depository.

Sasha watched the lurid orange flames lighting up the night skyline behind the walls of the Noble Quarter. Mercenaries continued to pour into the district, laughing and hollering and brandishing weapons in one hand and large sacks in the other. Dark shapes flitted from house to house as the Sumnians looted and murdered their way through the homes of Dorminia’s wealthiest citizens.

This isn’t right , she thought, feeling despair creeping up and threatening to engulf her. How can this be happening? She spotted General D’rak and a group of his men near the south of the plaza and hurried over to him. She ignored the leers and whistles she received as she faced up to the mercenary in the white leather armour.